From: "M. Cogburn" Date: Sat, 5 Dec 1998 13:50:45 -0600 Subject: Portraits Of The Past, Part 10 Chapter Ten Sam let Margaret have the rest of the afternoon to calm down. In the meantime, he went home and packed a few clothes for the next couple of days that he would be at Margaret's house. Knowing that she wasn't going to accept his presence in her apartment, he mentally prepared for the fight ahead of him. After hearing the comment on taking care of herself, she wasn't going to like his forcefulness. He placed his duffle bag in the back seat of his car and drove back up to the school for the rehearsals for the play. Mrs. Stacey had announced that they would be doing nightly rehearsals to catch up. He parked his car in the Seniors parking lot and got out of his car. It was a good thing he had read the play completely. Now, he could practice on any part of the play with no problem. As he walked up to the drama entrance to the school, Jessica appeared in the doorway. He looked at her warily wondering what she wanted. He approached the door hesitantly and looked up at her as he approached her. She had a sly smile on her face and she took a few steps toward him. Sam opened his mouth to begin to ask her what she wanted, but before he could ask her, she threw her arms around his neck and planted a deep passionate kiss on him. Sam pried her off him and was surprised when she hugged him. "I know what you're doing and it's so sweet." Jessica purred. "You're trying to make me jealous, aren't you? You're using that reverse psychology on me and it only makes me love you more." "What?" He pried her off him again and stepped away from her. "The reason you kissed Margaret. You did it to make me jealous, didn't you?" "No." Sam simply replied. "You were the one who dared me to do it. Don't you remember? You said commit wholly or take the dare. I took the dare. That should tell you something." He tried to pass her by, but she caught him and kissed him again. Caught off guard, Sam quickly pushed her away from him. "No." Quick tears came to Jessica's eyes but were replaced by angry emotions. She slapped him hard as she could on the face and stomped off. Sam's jaw ached and he reached up to massage it as he saw Al walk out from the wall. "That's two. How many times are you going to allow that to happen?" Al questioned sarcastically. Sam grunted. "How long have you been there?" "Long enough to see the fireworks." Al looked around quickly then approached him. "I believe she still has the hots for Jason." "Yeah, well . . ." Sam began but stopped his sentence as his mind switched gears. "Has anything changed?" "Margaret." Al responded looking at Sam oddly. "Where have you been?" "No, no. I mean has history changed? Is she okay?" Al pulled out the handlink and consulted Ziggy. "Nope. Nada." Sam gave an exasperated look and sighed heavily. "Nothing has changed at all?" "No. Nothing." "That doesn't make sense, Al. The events in one's life changes everyday, so if she changes her outlook and dress, then something should change. Consult Ziggy again." Al did as Sam said only to look back up at him in awe. "Ziggy has made a fopah. She thought we were asking about her death, not history in general. Yes, it does change. She dies Monday, the first, instead of on Friday." "Monday?" "What could have changed it so dramatically?" Sam's mind quickly went through the last few days as he started to pace. "Your make over and, well . . . ." "Her fight with Jessica." Al kept track of things on his fingers as he held on to his cigar. "Ask Ziggy how she dies." Al programmed the handlink to ask the question and his eyes grew wide in awe. "According to the police report, the students where messing around with some props in the prop room after the rehearsals and they found a play knife. They aren't exactly sure how it happened but Margaret died when she stuck the play knife into her chest acting like Juliet, in the final scene." "You can't die from a play knife . . ." Sam began. "Unless it was switched with a real one." Al commented seeing Sam's point of view. * * * The rehearsal seemed fine except for a few missed lines by some of the T-birds and the extras. Mrs. Stacey let the class go an hour early since they convinced her that she had nothing to worry about. As she dismissed them, Sam walked over to Margaret. "Mind if I come over tonight to talk?" Silence. "You aren't still mad at me, are you?" Sam asked as he tried to put on a puppy dog face. It was a face even his mother would give in on. Margaret glanced at him and walked away miserably. She wasn't really mad at him, just upset. Ever since her dad had died she had taken care of herself and she seemed to be doing rather well. She glanced back behind her quickly only to catch a glimpse of his handsome features. How could she be mad at someone so handsome? She sighed then made her way toward the door. Sam stood stunned. He was shocked to watch her walk away without even a word. As she grabbed the door handle, he quickly ran over to her and turned her around. "You aren't still mad at me, are you?" He repeated. Unable to meet his eyes, she shook her head negatively. "Margaret, I'm sorry." He searched for something else to say, but couldn't seem to find the words. "It's okay. I was just upset. I've been taking care of myself for a year now, and I don't think I did too shabby." Margaret looked at her hands as she fiddled with them. Even as she looked at her hands, she realized she was really independent - all on her own. "You didn't." Sam replied. "May I come over tonight so that we can talk?" "Sure." A small grin appeared on her face as Sam placed his arm around the small of her back and escorted her out to his car. Their trip to the house was made in silence. Sam was too busy thinking of how he would manage to get inside the house and stay. Margaret, however, was thinking about what had happened today with Jessica. As they reached the house, Margaret grabbed her purse from the seat and noticed the duffle bag. "Going somewhere?" She asked curiously. Sam pursed his lip. He wasn't sure what was going to happen. He didn't want to blow this opportunity to be able to protect her. "Kind of." Margaret's cheerfulness slowly melted as she realized what he meant. Her anger renewed quickly at the assumption that she couldn't take care of herself. "Oh no, I thought we covered this. I don't need anyone's protection. I'm a big girl . . . . " "I know that. I trust you. I just don't trust the person that is trying to kill you. Don't you understand?" Sam said as he laid his hand on hers. "I appreciate your concern . . ." Margaret pulled her hand away, opened the car door and got out only to lean in through the window. " . . . but I don't need your protection. I know how to defend myself." She closed the door and preceded up the walkway that led to the house. Sam grabbed the duffle bag and caught up with her. He wasn't about to give up on her, not when her life depended on it. He caught her arm. "I don't care. Look, Time, Fate, or the big guy upstairs has sent me here in this point in time to help you. I don't know why, but that's how it is." "That is yet to be seen. But as far as I'm concerned . . ." She yanked her arm away from him and tried a maneuver her father had taught her before he died. She grabbed his arm, twisted it, ducked under it and wrapped her foot around his ankle. Sam was caught off balance and she flipped him over her body. Before Sam knew what happened, he was on the ground looking up at her. She bent at her waist to look at him. "I believe I'm protected." Sam pursed his lips and closed his eyes only to open them once more. "I'm not leaving." Sam said with his face flushed as he looked up into her eyes. He was embarrassed to have been flipped so easily by her. "Fine, stay on the grass. I guess it will be pretty comfortable to sleep on." She walked away from him and went inside. Sam groaned a sigh. He had never done a flip before and landed flat on his back. Sam heard the Imaging Chamber Door swoosh open and then he heard the laughter in Al's voice when he said, "Laying down on the job?" Al questioned with a wry smile as he came in through the imaging chamber door. "Don't." Sam raised his finger in the air. "Just don't." "Okay, but if she gets hurt . . ." Al let his sentence fade as he looked toward her house. * * * Donna set the tray on the mirrored table, subtly and deliberately cutting off Jason's view of Sam's face. "I hope you like hamburgers and French fries." "Hi, Dr. Alisi. Sounds wonderful. Thank you." He gave her a tentative smile and she closed her eyes to it. It was Sam's smile -- rueful and shy. As Jason picked up one of the hamburgers, he said, "Thank you for letting me talk to Ziggy. According to Sammy Jo, you just don't let anyone talk to her." Donna smiled at the female personification of the neural hybrid computer. "We don't usually. We made rules against it because a person who know too much about their future can be a danger to their past." He nodded as he munched on the hamburger then placed a French fry in his mouth. Donna cocked her head wonderingly. "Most people want to know their future, but Ziggy tells me that you haven't asked about it. Why?" "Well, whether you know the future or not, it happens, doesn't it?" He shrugged with a grin. "Nice reasoning." Donna took a sip from her teacup. "But you must be curious." "Sure, I'm curious, but that doesn't change the rules, does it? If Ziggy tells me the future, and I go back and change anything -- I'll create a paradox." Jason took another bite from his hamburger and munched thoughtfully. As he thought he looked over at Donna as she took another drink from her cup. Her dark eyes sparkled and he felt a passion well up in him that he had never felt before. Before he could control himself, he blurted out, "I love you." As the passion subsided, he relaxed in his chair. "What . . . where did that come from?" Donna sat in shock blinking incoherently not knowing what to say. She slowly shook herself out of it. She hadn't heard those words since Sam had come home during the Simo-leap with Al. She missed him terribly and those words he just uttered -- she cherished them. "It's called merging . . ." She began. "A certain degree of merging occurs during a leap, to a greater or lessor extent depending on the conjunction of neurons and mesons as they pass each other during the transfer." Jason finished frowning not sure of what he just said. "Wait . . . you mean I have some of Dr. Beckett's memories and he has some of mine?" "Yes." She replied resisting the urge to blush. "Oh." Jason replied thoughtfully and met her gaze straight on. Donna's head began to spin. She could see the love that Sam had in his eye the day he had come back to her. He was full of love and the look startled her but it also calmed her. She broke the gaze as she looked at her watch. "I've got to go." She stood to leave but he grabbed her hand. "No, please. Stay and talk." She looked at Sam's face, realizing that inside there was a young man who needed peace of mind. She softly smiled and sat back down. "Okay." Once the pain of falling subsided, Sam placed the duffle bag under his head and began star gazing. He had been amazed by the stars ever since he was a young boy. They were the one thing that always calmed him. Al had conveniently excused himself from Sam's presence knowing that Sam's pride had been bruised. Sam heavily sighed and closed his eyes. At least he knew she was safe. That in of itself was good enough for right now. As he drifted into a light slumber, he wondered what she was doing inside. Margaret looked at her watch. It read 8:45. Too late to watch a sit-com and too early to go to bed. She walked to her room and looked at the bare canvas on the easel in the corner. She walked over to it and picked up the palate. After placing the colors on the palate, she sat down on the chair. The telephone rang. Sighing, she picked up the cordless and answered it. "Hello?" "Margaret." "Hi, Jon-Bob." "Margaret, I would like to apologize. I shouldn't have done the things I did to you today." "Jon - Bob . . ." "No, let me finish." He paused a moment before going on. "This morning when you said that I deserved a kiss, I thought you meant it. I apologize for assuming that. Then after school when you and I talked . . ." "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I shouldn't have." Margaret interrupted. "Jessica caught me in the hall and I swear, that girl will get hers one day." Margaret said angrily. She set the palette down on the bed then turned back to the blank canvas. "Margaret, will you forgive me for being an ass?" "Only if you'll forgive me." Margaret said as she got up to look out her window. She could see Sam still laying on his back and she frowned. He hadn't moved. She hoped that she hadn't hurt him. "All right. So, we're still friends?" Jon Bob hated what he'd just said, but he couldn't lose her friendship. She had been the first to befriend him when he came to this country and he didn't want to lose it. It might kill me if I did, he thought. "Still friends." Margaret paused as she wondered what she should do about the man in her front yard. She'd have to let him in, she knew that, but he had to learn his lesson first. "So . . ." As a low roll of thunder sounded outside, Margaret was placing the finishing touches on her painting. She sat back in the chair and marveled at what she had accomplished. It was a portrait of Al Calavicci and Sam Beckett. Sam was dressed in a white button up shirt, while Al was dressed in his dress whites standing somewhat behind Sam. A flash of lightning caught her attention. She quickly looked at her watch. It read 11:30. Suddenly, she yawned as she stood up to look out her bedroom window. Even as she looked out, the large cloud that had produced in the last couple of hours released its cargo. It began raining hard and she heard a yelp, then a moment later heard a banging on the door. Realizing who it was; she quickly went to the door with her hand over her opened mouth. She opened the door only to reveal a drenched Dr. Beckett. She stifled her urge to giggle as she opened the door wider for him to enter. Once he was passed her, she pushed him toward the bathroom and ordered, "Change before you catch pneumonia." Maybe he's learned his lesson, she thought. Sam held out the duffle bag as some water dripped from it. "Into what? They're all wet." He remarked flatly. As she took the duffle bag, she smiled warmly. "Well, uh, I'll try to find you something. Go ahead and take a hot shower." Sam nodded as he slowly made his way to the bathroom with an irritated look. As soon as the bathroom door shut, Margaret began giggling. She found the whole situation amusing. She took the duffle bag to her laundry room and placed the clothes in the dryer to dry. Once done, she went to her bedroom closet to search for something he could wear. She pulled out her only robe and folded it over her arm then went to the bathroom door. She knocked lightly. The water suddenly turned off. "I found you something to wear." She opened the door slightly and placed the robe on the cabinet quickly and shut the door. She then went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She grabbed a can of coke just as a rectangle of light appeared in her periphery vision. The light made her jump making her drop the coke that was in her hand. "Didn't want that anyway." She said dryly. "I'm sorry, Margaret. I didn't mean to startle you. I usually do that to Sam." Al grinned crookedly as he put the handlink into his coat pocket. "That's all right." She sighed heavily and set the coke back in the refrigerator and grabbed another. "By the way, have you seen Sam?" Margaret smiled. "As a matter of fact, I do believe he just got out of the shower." "What?" Al warily looked at Margaret. Margaret?" Sam questioned as he opened the bathroom door. "Yes, Sam?" She replied with a smile and motioned Al to come to her side. The bathroom door opened wider and Sam came out hesitantly asking, "Do you have anything else?" The robe he had on was bright pink with flowery print on it and it only extended down to the middle of his thigh. Margaret and Al looked at each other quickly then back to Sam -- both trying hard to hide their amusement. Al finally burst. "You look soooo cute in hot pink, Sam." Al complemented him through his laughter. Margaret couldn't hide her amusement any longer and laughed along with Al. Sam rolled his eyes irritatedly and proceeded to the living room and sat down on the couch making sure he was decently covered. He sighed when he heard the rain still splattering on the window. Al followed him trying to rid himself on his laughter. "Sorry. Usually it doesn't bother me when you've leapt into a woman, but a jock in hot pink -- it tickled me." "Why are you here?" Sam demanded. "Is there some good news?" "No." Al rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Sam's shoulders sagged. "Then why are you here?" "I came to check on Margaret. I thought you might still be outside." Al walked about the room only to stick his head through the wall. "It's really messy out there." "Look you two, I don't need any knights in shining armor." She said as Al stuck his head back into the room. She sat down beside Sam, took a drink of her coke then folded her arms as she looked between the two. "I'm not going to get into that conversation with you again. But," Sam looked directly into her blue eyes. "I'm here now . . ." "And you're going to be my protector." Margaret mocked him as she stood. She took her coke back to the kitchen and placed the rest of it in the refrigerator suddenly disinterested in it. She went to the hallway and stopped to turn to them. "Look, you know how I feel about this, but you're stubborn, so you may stay but you'll sleep in my d . . . dad's room. There's blankets in the laundry room if you need them. Goodnight." "Goodnight." They chimed as she disappeared from their sight. "Well, I better get some Z's myself. I've got a hard day tomorrow." Al said as he stretched out his arms. "My second, no third wife is trying to milk me for more money and I've got to go to court tomorrow." Sam rolled his eyes at Al's comment. He never could keep his wife's straight, and he'd married 5 in all. "All right then, I'll see you tomorrow." He watched as Al left then sat in silence listening to the rain hit the window in the melodic plink plank. His mind went back to the poem he had read in Jason's journal. His photographic memory let him run through the poem as if it was before him. I loved you for a little Who could not love me long. You gave me wings of gladness And lent my spirit song. I loved you for an hour But only with my eyes, Your lips I could not capture By storm or by surprise. Your mouth I remember With sudden rush of pain, As one remember starlight Or roses after rain. Out of a world of laughter Suddenly, I am sad . . . Day and night haunts me, The kiss I never had. He thought about the sequences he had been in since he leapt into Jason Hughes. The poem he reasoned with himself was actually true. Jason had loved Margaret from afar only to be taken away a few moments before their supposed kiss. A kiss he never had. Sam closed his eyes and lifted up an apology to the teenager in the near distant future. With that apology said, he relaxed once more.