Message-ID: <372D1BD4.F5416D39@netzero.net> Date: Sun, 02 May 1999 23:45:34 -0400 From: Ann Marie Tajuddin Subject: Agenda 8 Ann Marie K. Tajuddin Hidden Agenda 8 ------ "Hidden Agenda" Part VIII April, 1995 Emmitsburg, MD "Verbena!" Sam exclaimed in surprise, drawing several curious looks from those in the office. Verbena glanced around him and he suddenly seemed to be aware of how much interest he was attracting. He stepped out of the center of attention, finding his way to the ladies room after just a few wrong turns. "Nice outfit, Sam," she murmured, hiding a grin. Sam waited until the door pulled closed before replying. "You can see me as me?" he asked with scientific curiosity. She squinted at him. "Sorta. It's like a fuzzy afterimage, but it's not very strong. I couldn't even see the woman you've leaped into in the Waiting Room." She took a step back. "You could do well to shave your legs, though." He sighed. "Please, I get enough of that from Al. Speaking of which..." There always seemed to be a good reason for Al's random, though seldom, absences from the Imaging Chamber. It had only happened a few times, as far as Sam could recall, but it was always disconcerting, both because he worried there was something up with the funding, or because he worried there was something up with Al. Each time it happened, it always seemed to leave him feeling abandoned, lost. As if the one connection had been severed and he'd been left alone, even though there was someone else there to observe. Truth be told, it was as much the attraction of one constant as the man himself that made Sam uneasy when he was gone. "Oh, don't worry about it, Sam. He went up to Pennsylvania to meet with a scientist who has an idea for some improvements for Quantum Leap. You leaped back in rather quickly and he got held up, so..." "Held up how?" Sam asked, somewhat suspiciously, as if afraid he was being lied to. She seemed calm and relaxed, though, and an internal guide told him he didn't have cause to worry. "Oh, he's driving back. He told me to tell you that everything was fine and he'd be back as soon as he could," she reassured him, seeming to sense his need for it. He chewed on his lip, then turned to face the mirror at his back. An attractive blonde stared back at him, batting long lashes as he blinked in amazement. She was maybe 5'3", 5'4", short hair that curved around her ears elegantly, and deep hazel eyes. When Sam smiled, her face lit up. She was absolutely charming, not to mention that she had the perfect figure. "Al's gonna hate himself for missing this one," Sam observed with a wicked grin, turning once to catch the entire picture. "Enough to make him cry," he added, glancing at Verbena. "I'll let him know," she returned with a smile. "It'll get him back faster." Sam turned back to her, resting his hip against the counter. "Well, what's the story?" "We don't have a whole lot, yet," Verbena warned, lighting up the handlink and punching in a few codes. "Ziggy's in a tizzy because Al left. I can't tell if she gets upset because she likes him, or she just likes picking on him." "Most likely a little of both," Sam noted, crawling through fragmented memories of her leading Al in circles of logic and taking extreme pleasure in it. Al would be pretty proud at being able to follow her until he realized the trap, and then he would inevitably be banging on Sam's door, demanding they 'do something about the over-evolved dishwasher'. She'd never been as manipulative with Sam, but that was probably because he didn't tend to get as riled up as Al did. Ziggy obviously liked a good show. "At any rate, we have a little of the background, but not enough to get us through this leap, so I sure hope she straightens out. I may have Al give her a talking to over the phone. And he may be back before it's over," she amended, a little guiltily. "Anyhow, back to this: your name is Regina Prather, but everyone calls you Gina. You work at an advertising..." She shook the handlink meekly, to no avail, then glanced helplessly at Sam. He shrugged, grinning a little. She mirrored the gesture and whacked it on the side, then laughed slightly. "All these years, I figured he did it for kicks. Anyhow, you work at an advertising agency, have worked here for the last five years: you've been working your way up. You hold a Bachelors in communications and this was your first job out of college." "How old?" Sam questioned. "Um...26. You live by yourself outside of town in an apartment, and you have a grandmother in a nursing home in Baltimore that you visit every third weekend in the month." He nodded and wiped a hand over his face. "When am I?" "Uh... April 4, 1995." "I don't supposed you know what I'm here to do..." Sam surmised, a little disappointed. He hated this woman's wardrobe already and the sooner he could get out, the better. "Afraid not. We only just started running scenarios on Gina's future. As soon as we know, I'll tell you, but, for now, just keep an eye on yourself and any coworkers. Maybe we'll get lucky and figure it out." "Yeah," Sam agreed without conviction. "In the meantime, tell Al to get his butt back here. No reason I should be the only one working..." November, 2000 Moores Hill, IN Al and Celia met in the lobby for breakfast before starting out. It was early, but Al was feeling rested and refreshed, thank goodness. Maybe he'd even be able to keep his temper with her today. As she came down, he saw that was most likely going to be the least of his problems; he could tell right off the bat by the fact that she avoided his gaze that she was still extremely uncomfortable with what happened the night before. It was perfectly reasonable, he figured, who wouldn't get upset recounting that incident? They sat down together without much conversation except what etiquette dictated, and they were halfway through their meal when Al got the call from Project Quantum Leap. By the time he hung up, he knew he had two good reasons to get back to Stallions Gate as quickly as possible: Sam may need him, and he definitely needed to see this woman Sam'd leaped into. Plus seeing Sam in her clothes was going to be good for a few kicks. "We've got to get on the road and try to do this straight through," he informed her, tucking the phone into the inside pocket of his jacket. "That's a long way without stopping," she pointed out, sipping tentatively at her coffee. "What's wrong?" "They need me in New Mexico. I told you I couldn't do this," he added, accusation he hadn't meant to express making the atmosphere tense. Then he exhaled, relenting. "Look, Celia, about last night-" She lifted her chin to look him in the eyes. "Nothing happened last night." He gazed uncertainly at her. "I just wanted to tell you that I-" She wiped her mouth with her napkin and stood up. "I thought you wanted to get moving. I thought you had to get back to Dr. Beckett." There was something in her tone he couldn't quite identify as she spoke Sam's title, but then it passed as quickly as it had come. He'd thought today would be easier; he was obviously wrong. "Do you want to take the first shift, or do you want me to?" "I'll do it." She slung her purse over her shoulder and marched past him. *Woman's almost as good at burying things as I am,* he thought fleetingly and followed her out. They stopped first at a gas station before hitting the highway; they were only down to a quarter of a tank, but it was easier to do it now than stop later. Celia filled the car while Al scrounged around the sorry-looking store for something to hold them over to the next stop. As a result, he wasn't paying attention as Celia capped the tank, got into the car, started the engine, and started fiddling with the radio knobs. He didn't see the man who walked up from behind the vehicle, opening her door suddenly and grabbing for her, and he never heard her startled shriek. A frenzied fight ensued and, as he turned from the counter, what he _did_ see was Celia desperately trying to push him back outside, kicking, shoving, whatever she could manage. He saw her slam the door on his fingers, causing him to reel back in pain and shock, clutching his hand to his chest, and saw her flooring the gas, tearing out of the lot in what was proving a successful attempt at escape. Al dropped his bags on the dirty tiles and ran out of the building as the man headed for his own car at a near-run. "Hey!" Al yelled to get his attention, intersecting his path as he got the car door open. Al never slowed his pace and they hit the side of his vehicle together. Celia's attacker nailed Al immediately with a blow to his stomach that stunned him and he backed up a step. The man was bigger, stronger, and maybe even angrier and Al's best defense would be to gain distance and go with his strengths, but he didn't know if the man had any weapons, so he tried to keep as close to him as he could, blocking his own maneuverability, but hopefully doing the same to his opponent. Al grabbed his injured hand and he cried out, but didn't slow his aggressive style in the slightest, didn't allow Al even a minute to catch his breath. Al knew almost immediately that he wasn't going to win this one and his directive shifted from winning to stalling. He couldn't seem to gain the upper hand, pinned between the filthy exterior of the car and this man, who never let up for a second. In what could only be a last-ditch effort to get him out of the way, the man slammed Al against the side of the car and Al felt the world dim for an instant. The man let him fall away from the struggle and he stood, shakily, took several steps, then fell to his knees on the pavement, feeling sick to his stomach. He put his hand to his forehead and the wet stickiness that met his fingertips told him things were a little worse than he'd thought. He never heard the murderer drive off, but he was sure the man had. He just hoped Celia was long gone by this point. He didn't think, yet, when or even if she would come back for him. A woman was suddenly beside him, a concerned hand on his shoulder, then a man in a suit hurried to their location. "Hey, are you okay?" the woman was asking, and he shook his head, wishing the ground would stop spinning, just for a minute. He wasn't in a lot of pain, but he definitely was fuzzy and unsure of himself. The man mumbled something reassuring and helped him to his feet and led him to the curb outside the store. He sat down, grateful as things started to clear. "Do you need anything? Should I call an ambulance?" she asked him and he looked up at her, managing a weak smile. "No, I'll be fine. Just got knocked around a bit - I just need to sit here for a minute..." As if on cue, the rental car pulled into the gas station and Celia maneuvered it to his position and got out, stunned. "What happened?!" she demanded, kneeling down beside him. "You're bleeding." "Figures, he comes after you and _I_ get beaten to a pulp," he grumbled, then pushed her hands away. "Celia, it's fine," he stated in obvious contradiction to his earlier comments. "What did he do? Run over you?" "Came damn close, actually," the man offered. "Went tearing outta here as if he was on fire. Why on earth did you go after him?" he added to Al. "You what? Are you nuts?" "Won't anyone listen to me?" Al demanded, feeling more steady by the second. "It's fine. I'll sleep it off in the car." He stood up, testing his vision and balance, and he found that all he had now was a dull, throbbing ache at his temples. "Al, you shouldn't have gone after him," she said quietly. Her use of his name surprised him, but he didn't say anything about it. "If I hadn't, he'd've been right on your tail," he informed her. Satisfied that he was okay, the couple left them alone and her facade slipped. Again. "How on earth did he find me?" He opened the passenger's door and sat heavily on the seat, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his face. "I don't know, but I don't think he realizes we were together. He coulda done a lot more than just stun me, but he just bought himself enough time to get away and nothing else." "Or he just didn't want to waste any more time finishing the job," she contradicted calmly. Then she leaned against the back door. "This is such a nightmare," she said unsteadily. Al glanced up at her, then touched her hand reassuringly. "I know." She pulled away quickly, clearing her throat and rubbing her hands together as if to rid herself of the sensation of his touch. He observed the action without comment. "We'd better go, just in case he does decide to come back here." "Right." Al pulled his legs in and closed the door, reclining the seat and easing gingerly back. Celia stopped in the store to pick up the bags he'd dropped and to get him an ice pack and some Tylenol. Then they pulled out on to the highway to continue what was turning out to be a very long trip to Stallions Gate. [I hope to have the last 4 parts and the epilogue out on Tuesday. All comments can still be mailed to me at through May 5th....or at through May 15th. Thanks! -amkt]