From: Philippa Chapman (Glastonbury, Somerset, UK.) Date: Sun 16 Feb 1997 18:00 +0000 Subject: Close to You, Part 1/3 CLOSE TO YOU Author's forward: This was written to answer two recent questions that popped up in my mind. 1) What would happen if Al found himself irresistably attracted to the Leapee in the Waiting Room? (Most of you can probably make a shrewd and educated guess, but remember what the Leapee sees when she {in this case} looks in a mirror). 2) Why didn't 'they' get Scott/Sam to do a big action/adventure episode? Imagine 'Die Hard' meets QL, but this time Sam's got a bit of help.... And since this story is rather heavily laden with sexual tension, please be sensible and don't read on if you're under 18. 'The Lover gazed upon himself so that he might be a mirror in which to behold his Beloved and he gazed upon the Beloved as in a mirror in which he might have knowledge of himself.' Kahlil Gibran, mystic 1976/1999 Sam felt the place between the leaps ejecting him out into the cold world again, protesting, like a new-born baby. Reality rushed up to meet him. He was seated at a desk, in an office. There were crime prevention posters on the walls. Sam looked down at himself. No uniform. There was a name plaque on the desk. Sam turned it around. C. Elliott. He stood up slowly, taking in the pantyhose covering his legs as he did so. "Ohhh, boy; not *again*!" Sam saw a small circular mirror on the wall with a convex surface. He walked over cautiously, glad that his hostess liked wearing flat lace- ups. He peered at the somewhat distorted reflection in the glass. Thick naturally blonde hair, pale blue eyes in a smart navy suit. It was difficult to make out any more. Sam retreated to the desk and sighed. he mused to himself, Sam looked out of the window onto red brick Victorian houses. An unmistakeable London Taxi drew up outside. He could see glimpses of several famous landmarks in the distance. "How on Earth am I supposed to fake a working knowledge of the British police system? American police was bad enough...!" Al entered and shared the view out of the window. "Wow! Free travel to London! Okay, Sam, we're doing our best, but Miss Elliott is apparently shut up tighter than a clam. She sussed out Beena as soon as she leaped in and thinks she's in a hostage situation. Beena is considering sending me in there in my uniform.....it might help, I suppose." Al peered out of the window. "Ah, a registration plate! From that, I can tell you that we're somewhere in the mid-Seventies, at least '75..and you know where and who you are...the 'C' stands for Cassandra, but no-one here will call you that, just 'Ma'am' or maybe 'Sir' - I'm not sure how protocol works yet. I'll get Ziggy to do some fine tuning and then I'll get back to you." "Okay, Al, but be as quick as you can, please? I have no idea what to say if I get presented with real police work." Al sighed as he went back out of the Imaging Chamber. "Okay, Ziggy; Gushi - we need everything there is on British plain clothes' police, in London, around 1975 or so. Do a trace on the life of a C.Elliott, probably an officer, maybe even a high-ranking one." "I HAVE SOME INFORMATION ON CASSANDRA ELLIOTT. SHE WAS BORN IN LONDON IN 1946, THEN HER MOTHER TOOK HER TO SAFETY IN THE COUNTRY DURING THE BLITZ. IT IS 1976, JUST BEFORE THE UNUSUALLY LONG HOT SUMMER IN BRITAIN THAT YEAR. MISS ELLIOTT IS CURRENTLY UNMARRIED IN 1976. SHE HOLDS THE RANK OF DETECTIVE INSPECTOR." "Okay, that'll do for now, Ziggy. I'll see if I can get anything out of the lady personally." Al decided to grab a quick shower before he changed into his dress uniform. He walked rather stiffly along the corridoor to the Waiting Room. Doctor Verbeena Beeks was there to greet him. "I took your advice, Beena. Any change?" The elegant psychiatrist slowly shook her head. "She's not talking, if that's what you mean. We've offered her food and water, but she doesn't seem to have touched it." "Has she seen her face....I mean, Sam's face, in the mirror?" "Not yet....I decided she might really freak if I tried that. Go gently, Al." "Yeah, I know the drill, we've done it so often before...." Al took a deep breath and entered the room. A fair-haired woman in Sam's Fermi suit sat bolt upright with her back to him. "I heard you come in. Don't try *anything*" The lady whirled around and she and Al gasped simultaneously. Cassandra recovered her poise first. "Well, *you're* not a psychiatrist, that's certain. Military....but not British. Is this a covert operation?" Al was trying to remember how to breathe. Cassandra was absolutely stunning, even with her hair scraped back from her face into a tight bun. Al took in her lovely face, the baby blue eyes and the exquisite full mouth. Even if that had been all, he would have been stopped dead. As it was, the generous curves lower down, stretching the Fermi suit so that it moulded to her like a second skin, proved severely distracting. Al's mouth went dry. . Al managed a reassuring smile. "Yes...American Navy. I'm an Admiral." Cassandra nodded. "And *this* is *not* a ship, so where *am* I? Make sure it's the truth, now. I'm very good at picking up liars." Her eyes narrowed. Al's appreciation of her poise rose several-fold. "That doesn't surprise me. We know that you're a high-ranking police officer. And you're not a hostage, not in the conventional sense. We'll do everything we can to make your stay as pleasant as possible. My name is Albert Calavicci, but you can call me Al, if you like." "I feel that I should call you 'Sir' in that uniform. With a name like that you must be Italian." Al's smile widened. "Absolutely, yes. Now, let me tell you where and when you are." "*When*?" "It's a long story, Ms Elliott." She looked at him very directly. "Have you got anything better to do? I might as well hear you out. This is not like anyhere else I've ever been." Al managed to keep his tone professional as he explained everything Cassandra needed to know. At last there was one thing left. With a sinking feeling in his heart he took her over to the mirrored table. He sighed inwardly. At the moment she was blissfully unaware of her new aura and so was Al. Once she saw Sam, though, things would change; they almost always did. "I don't know how to prepare you for this. Some people scream, some faint, some reject what they see. You *won't* see your own face looking back at you; it's the face of Doctor Beckett. He looks like you back in London." "I think I understand.....ohh!" she turned to Al,"Do you see him or me?" "That's complicated. When I look in the mirror there, I see my friend. But when I look directly at you, I see *you*. Ziggy did some changes, so that I could always see Sam as himself in the past." "That makes sense. I'd want it that way if it was a colleague of mine out on a mission. So, do I have to stay in this room? It reminds me of an operating theatre." She flashed a brilliant smile at Al. "Sorry, Ms Elliott. We can't have you seeing too much of the future." "But I've seen Dr Beeks and *you*. And *his* face. Your uniform is advanced, too. If I'm twenty three years in the future, then you're actually not that much older than me, are you?" Al was pleased again by her quick mind. "Ten years," he admitted, "I was forty in 1976." "I keep being told I must have a holiday. I suppose *this* is a kind of holiday....though it's nothing like Italy." Al boggled. "You went to *Italy*?" "You told me your story; let me tell you one of mine." It was over an hour later when Al finally left, walking on a cloud of delight. She had brought back to life memories of Lake Garda, Verona and Venice for Al. He had relaxed and enthused with her about the beauty of the Italian countryside and even made her laugh. It was that which nearly undid all his resolve to maintain a professional distance. It was a husky, seductive laugh and Al had been severely tempted to bridge the gap between them and kiss her, but the remembered reflection in the mirror held him back. It wasn't until he was on his way back to Sam that he started to wonder why Cassandra Elliott had opened up to *him*. "Okay, Sam." Al began, filling his friend in on all the details, while Sam sat behind the desk and nodded. He had just finished when a male officer knocked and walked in. He was tall, broad-shouldered and pushing fifty with graying black hair. "Excuse me, Ma'am. You know we've been watching the house of the Macguire brothers for some time?" Sam nodded, trying to look as if he understood, "Well, C1 thinks they might be into drugs and C5 suspects that one of our lot has been on the take and selling them information in exchange for the merchandise." Al feverishly tapped the Handlink. "Er...C1 is the drug squad, central office and has links with INTERPOL; C5 is the internal admin and you may have a bent cop on your hands," Al's eyes narrowed in a sudden flash of anger, "Ziggy says that the stake-out has been a waste of time so far....that would make sense. Your colleague's name is Smith." "Okay, Smith..." Sam began,"So it sounds like the stake-out may be corrupted. One of the officers there is tipping off the Macguires." The man nodded slowly. "We found this in a public waste-bin." He held out a sheet of paper. Sam took it and Al read it over his shoulder. It described in graphic detail what violence somebody would like to do with D.I. Elliott if he ever got his hands on her. Al became very angry on her behalf. So did Sam. "Do you think a head-on approach is best?" Smith nodded. "I'm afraid so, Ma'am. Your personal appearance at the stake-out will probably incite our culprit to action. He probably finds you sexually attractive, so you'll need to be very careful. Take a gun with you and an extra pair of eyes." Sam followed his heart. "Then you'd better come with me, Smith." "Yes, Ma'am, I will. We'll get the little bast...sorry, we'll get him." Al felt he owed it to Cassandra to report on Sam's activities. He had changed to his favorite blue suit when he went in. Cassandra looked at him with surprise and a hint of something else, something Al recognised but tried to ignore. Cassie found him attractive. "Is that what all U.S. Admirals wear off-duty?" Al smiled. "Oh, *this*. No...I just prefer colorful clothes." "Very nice, too. It's a shame that you don't all wear that. You could have got one in my size. This *thing* is like something out of a sixties spy series." "Yes, I'm sorry about that. Fermi suits weren't exactly built with fashion in mind, although..." Al managed to stop himself blurting out how attractive she looked just in time. It didn't, however, stop the renewed rush of highly interested male hormones from surging through his body. "If we're going to be informal, you can call me Cassandra." To Al's surprise, she unpinned her hair, which fell in soft waves around her shoulders. The bottom-most curls just reached the tips of her breasts. Al blinked to try to dispel the images that were now running heatedly through his mind. "You look like a Cassie to me," he managed, his mouth acting somewhat independantly of his brain. Cassandra smiled winningly and almost seductively. "No-one's called me Cassie in *years*. I'd forgotten how nice it was to hear it. My first lover called me Cassie." . Al's brain trembled incoherently. He pulled out a cigar and turned away, trying to regain objectivity. "You smoke *cigars*?" Al looked away across the room at nothing in particular. "Yes.....sorry, I should have asked your permission first." He heard her throaty laugh. The inner desires went up a notch. "You're talking to a fellow addict. I don't suppose you've got a spare one of those?" Al looked back at her, which wasn't entirely safe for his equilibrium. "No, I'm sorry. I don't meet many women who like cigars, at least not to smoke them." Cassandra smiled again and the sun came out. "You couldn't possibly share the one you've got?" Al gallantly handed it over and their hands brushed against each other. He tried to ignore the jolt of awareness going up his arm. She closed her eyes and her lips closed around the cigar. Al was fixated, unable to turn away. When she handed it back, Al took it, his hand trembling. . He started to turn away, but she put her hand on his shoulder. "I can read your body language, Al. You find me highly attractive, don't you?" He looked into her face. He could no longer deny it. "Yes." he whispered, hoarsely. "It's that intense for me, too. I'd heard of captives being attracted to their captors, but I never thought it would happen to me. You are *so* handsome and I know you are trying desperately to be professional about this situation. So am I, but every time I look at you....." "Cassie, don't, please. We *can't*." She drew closer until their faces were only a couple of inches apart. "Not even one kiss?" Al teetered on the brink, tempted almost beyond endurance. "I don't think just one kiss would be enough, Cassie." "If we made it a really good kiss, I think I could handle it. You've never felt like this about a leapee before, have you?" "No, I haven't. I've had screaming, fainting, physical violence, people throwing up and tantrums. I've never had a leapee who found me attractive." Cassie stroked his face gently. Al felt his hands trembling with desire. "So this is a first for both of us." Al closed his eyes briefly, then looked back at her. "Your eyes are as blue as Lake Garda," he murmured. Cassandra slid off the bed into his arms. All the nerve endings in Al's body began to tingle in appreciation and anticipation. They both paused deliberately, spinning out the tension. Al touched her hair, then began moving closer. He decided to kiss her slowly. A last remnant of his mind began to protest weakly. , then his lips touched hers and the sheer pleasure wiped out every other conscious thought in his body. He started with gentle caresses, which she returned so fully, he felt intoxicated. He was just beginning to kiss her more deeply when the Handlink beeped shrilly several times. "Hell, damn and blast!" He pulled away, furious and frustrated. Cassie ruffled his hair. "I thought it was pretty fabulous, speaking personally." Al's mouth curved into a soft apologetic smile and his eyes glowed. "It was *incredible*, but I've got this damned gooseberry called Ziggy who's just ruined the moment. I'm sorry, Cassie, but Sam's in trouble." Al punched the Handlink. "He's got to the stake-out.....there's a house overlooking the one where the drug dealers are suspected to be." "That's common practice." "Yes, here too. But it looks like one of your lot is working for the other side." Cassandra's eyes narrowed angrily. "I know my men and women better than anyone. Is there *any* chance of my getting a look at what's going on? I could spot something that you or Sam might miss." Al looked up at her, taking in the business-as- usual attitude. "Okay. We've let some Leapees in with me before. You'd better follow me." It was evening. Sam followed Smith from the un-marked car into the building. Two male officers were seated, hiding by the upstairs bedroom window with binoculars and a tape recorder. Smith spoke to them. "Good evening, Matthews...Johnson. Any luck?" Matthews took off the headphones that he'd been wearing. "Not yet, sir. The Macguires are giving nothing away." Sam moved cautiously over to the window between the two men, trying to be nonchalant. "Any passers by?" Al punched the Handlink and went to check. "Just people going home from work. No lights on in the Macguires' place." Sam stood up slowly. The street-light from outside illuminated him for a split second before he stepped back and touched Johnson on the shoulder deliberately, then moved over to Matthews. "Where did you hide the monitor?" Matthews swallowed slightly and looked up at Sam. "Usual - telephone tapping through the junction box, Ma'am." "It's a shame we couldn't get in there and monitor all their conversations. I'm going out on the street - I've got a disguise." Sam looked at Smith and Al significantly. Sam went through to the back bedroom and pulled out what he'd borrowed from the huge wardrobe of disguises. "What do you think, Al? Will this really work?" Sam held up a t-shirt and a pair of hot pants with a bib. Cassie chuckled next to Al. "My goodness, those are going to look strange on your friend." Al touched Cassie so that Sam could see her. Sam blinked, then Al made the introductions. Cassie could see that Sam was uncomfortable changing in front of a woman, so she let go for a while until he was finished. "I do hope this is going to work. Smith said that something slightly over the top should make the bent cop react." Cassie laughed again. "Well, I can safely say that none of the C.I.D. has seen me like *that* before. Good luck, Sam and watch both the men in there carefully." Sam and Al both nodded. Al mused uncomfortably, Al pulled himself ruthlessly back to the task in hand. Sam put Cassie's hand-gun in the pocket of the hot-pants as he went back to the other room. "I'm just going out now...." All three men looked around. Johnson rose to his feet. "Do you think it's wise, going out there like *that*?" Sam's hand covered his gun. "I was hoping we might provoke them into making a move." Matthews shuffled uncomfortably. Sam and Al's attention flicked immediately towards him. "I don't like it. It should be one of us. I'll go....they think we live here, after all." "How do they know that?" Sam's voice took on a slightly steely edge as he moved nearer. Matthews stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers. "Well, we've been coming and going at regular intervals. You know the drill." Sam looked Matthews straight in the eye and tried to smile naturally. "I'm sure you're doing a great job." Matthews licked his lips nervously. Cassie touched Al's shoulder. "It's *him*. He's sweaty, nervous....and excited. He's getting a kick out of this." Sam touched Matthews' shoulder and the other man tried to pounce. Before he knew what was happening, Matthews was on the floor, under Sam's feet with two guns at his head. "You *bitch*! I should have got that promotion, dammit. I bet you screwed the superintendant." Cassie's eyes flashed in anger. "I got my job on merit, Matthews..." She trailed off, her eyes flashing. Al relayed Cassie's words to Sam. Smith handcuffed Matthews and hauled him away. "I'm sorry, Ma'am; I had no idea." Johnson spoke out of shock. "I'll...er...go and change back and then check on the tap in the telephone exchange. I'll fill in until you can get someone else down here, Smith." "Very well, Ma'am." Smith ushered Matthews out of the room. Al waited while Sam changed back into the blue suit and accompanied him to the junction box down the road, away from the line of sight of the Macguire's house. Cassie nodded. "It's an incomplete tap. No wonder we got nothing from them." she passed instructions to Sam, who reconnected the tap and then went back carefully to the house. Johnson looked up as Sam re-entered the room. "I think it's going to be a long wait." Sam nodded and smiled somewhat grimly. "That's okay. Let's hope we can catch these criminals now." Al and Cassie left Sam to the unenviable task of a long wait through the night without sleep. "You know,"said Cassie,"I should have guessed that Matthews was the informer. I could hear the undercurrents in his voice just before he cracked. There's a lot you can deduce, even from the most banal of conversations." Al clearly heard the thinly disguised yearning and passion in Cassie's voice. "Absolutely," he answered,"It's amazing the coded messages you can give if you put your mind to it," "You were brilliant, Cassie." She smiled softly in understanding. "That's what I'm paid for. Do I go back to the Operating Theatre again?" "Well, I think so. It's going to be at least eight hours until Sam is likely to need me again. I had planned to catch up on some sleep." The last word stayed hanging between them, stretching the tension. "Where do you do that? There's just offices and military stuff down here." "I have a bed in my office or, if Sam's away for a long time, a condo up on the surface," Al gestured upwards. Desire thrummed inside him, filling him with intense longing. They walked almost nonchalantly along the corridoor. "This is your office, right here. I suppose I'd better say goodnight, then?" "Yes, goodnight, Cassie." Her eyes were shining and her lips were softly parted. His desire became so intense that it was almost painful. Their hands reached out, met, then suddenly they were in each other's arms. Al pulled her inside the office and locked the door behind him even as Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck. His lips found hers feverishly and they both moaned with barely suppressed hunger and desire. Al held her tight against him, revelling in the feel of her. He moved into the room, kissing and caressing all the way. They bumped into the desk and Cassie wrapped her legs around him, drawing him right against her. Cassie fumbled, trying to find the opening in the Fermi suit. Al grinned. "I'll have to help you...there's a knack to those things. And Cassie, gorgeous, you don't have to worry about...*complications*." Cassie's smile was radiant as she held him in her arms. "I know, Al. At least, I guessed." Al reached around Cassie and produced a package. He smiled seductively as he shed his jacket. "We'll just have to make sure they're not wasted, won't we?" Morning found Al and Cassie wrapped in each other's arms. He stroked her hair and face for the umpteenth time. "God, I wish I could give you more than just one night." Cassie's eyes were mischeivous. "Could you honestly give me anything that would equal what we've just shared?" "Equal...maybe, if you gave me about a month to recover. Better, *never*. You are *incredible*, my gorgeous Cassie. You're going to take away my undying admiration and a little piece of my heart. You're three times a lady, as the song goes." Cassie's answering smile was gentle, yet showed her deep satisfaction. "You are the best, Al. Never forget that. The best I ever had. I wish we could have had longer, too, but sometimes one night is all you ever get. When I'm a ninety year old granny in a wheelchair, I hope that I shall remember what we shared and I will always be so grateful." "Well, you'd better watch out, Cassie. If I'm still around, I'll be chasing you in my wheelchair for a second helping!" Cassie laughed, a full musical laugh that thrilled Al to his soul. "Al, you're incorrigable! And I'm always going to be more than a little in love with you, but I think you know that by now." Al looked at his watch. "And I'm half in love with you, but my darling, it's showtime. I have to go back to Sam and you need to get back into the Fermi suit, just incase Sam comes home." Cassie picked it up off the floor where it had been discarded over seven hours previously. "I still don't like it, even after the sexy way you removed it last night." Al grinned as he began to help her back into it. "Believe me, my beautiful Cassie; the way you fill it out is enough to make even the Pope look twice." Cassie's grin matched Al's. "It made you *that* excited?" "Couldn't you tell?" "Well, actually, yes. I could tell *that* from the moment you laid eyes on me. And last night, when you were so close, I had no doubts at all about how excited you were. But it's such a boost to the ego hearing you say so." Al walked Cassie back to the Waiting Room. He took her gently in his arms once the door was closed. "I *hate* 'goodbyes', especially when it's to such a wonderful woman as you are." Cassie smiled gently. "Then let's say 'au revoir', Al. No-one else will ever be able to say my name as wonderfully and seductively as you do." "Cassie..." She put her arms around his neck. "Ohhh, *Al*. Take care of yourself. Maybe I'll turn up here as a 53 year old one of these days." "You take care as well. You can come knocking on my door any time." They shared one last kiss, then Al had to leave her. Cassie smiled a secret womanly smile to herself. "*Three* times a lady...?" she murmured as the leap caught her.