From: Sean Smith X-From: rkwong@engin.umich.edu (Roberta Chi-Woon Kwong) Newsgroups: alt.tv.quantum-leap.creative,alt.ql.creative Subject: "Quanta" part 14/17 Date: 7 May 1995 22:08:28 GMT Message-Id: <3ojgcs$s61@srvr1.engin.umich.edu> This is being posted for Sean Smith , who is having some difficulty posting from his account. Please direct all comments to him. The following re-formatting has been done in this section: Replacement of smartquotes Replacement of tab spaces Adjustment of line length The actual text remains untouched. -------------------------------------------------- Sam looked across the room where an exhausted Dana Scully lay sprawled across the bed. Her head rested on one arm, and the other was pulled up next to her head. He had paused to pull the orange coverslip over her, and now she made only a diminutive lum p on the bed. Only her shock of now dried red hair gave her away as she slept. Sam had managed to exhaust his partner after much effort. It seemed that she had needed that brief moment in which to vent some frustration. After their 'fight,' Dana seemed much improved, less withdrawn. Beckett was glad he'd helped, but now, after all was said and done, he had not Leaped out. Somehow, whatever it was that needed his attention was still undone. And so he was now slipping out of her room and into the night. The clock on the bedside table showed that two and a half hour had passed, and it was after two in the morning. He still could slip out of the room, and get to Sacramento without Dana. He knew it was for the better this way; there was no chance of letti ng her get hurt in the process this way. But, looking back to where she trustingly lay in the grip of sleep, he still felt like a betrayer. Sam looked over to the hanger that held his wool jacket. It was still damp, and useless after the amount of water it absorbed. Quietly, he grabbed her thick leather coat, and slipped it on. It fit him rather well, though he wouldn't risk the noise of closing it until after he left the room. He slipped a black shooter's cap over his greying brown hair, and checked himeself in the mirror. His reflection was that of Fox Mulder, a handsomely trim young man in a dark shirt and leather jacket. He almost looked like a stylish vacationer, were it not for the heavy black cap, and the slight bulge from the large pistol under his arm. Before he tried to figure out why he was doing this, he left quietly, and disappeared into the storm. * * * The black plastic windsheild wipers squeaked each time they swept across the glass. And each time that small noise came in the middle of the night, Sam Beckett jumped a little inside. Nervously, he adjusted the car mirror for the third time in ten minu tes. He appreciated the lack of traffic on the road at this time of night, although the drive through the flat, featureless terrain on a dark, moonless night was bothering him more and more as he drove. With a faint pop, Al Calavici appeared in the seat next to Sam, smiling broadly. Sam jumped, and the small import car swerved slightly in its lane. "Jeez Sam! I thought you were a better driver than that!" He stuck his cigar back in his mouth, and straightened the lapels of his purple jacket. "Al! It's bad enough I'm driving toward certain doom in the middle of the night through a downpour. Do you _have_ to appear like that?" He was getting anxious enough to lose his sense of humor. "I don't know. Do you think it would help if I faded in and out? I could rattle some chains for you." Al batted his eyes and tried to look helpful. "No, thanks. I don't need a purple ghost with a silver tie." Sam managed a smile at Al's wounded expression. "What? You don't like this tie?" Sam nodded. "It's a classic, _Doctor_ Beckett. A regular work of art." He nodded sagaciously. "I could come up with a lot of words to describe that tie, and 'regular' isn't one of them." He had to laugh at that. "Al, from the way you're dressing, and the mood you're in, I take it things are looking up?" Sam risked pulling his eyes from the road, and shot Al a questioning glance. "Yup. There's a sixty-two percent chance Dana'll live now. And Fox, in our time, is looking better." Sam rapped his knuckles on the steering wheel. "Great. So how 'bout me?" Al seemed a little crestfallen. "Well...you still disappear. But now Dana files the report and investigation. So we've got all the records back." "Great. Does this mean Ziggy will be able to sift through all the data and come up with a better answer than this?" "I hope so, Sam. I don't like sending you out here." "Yeah, well I don't like being sent out here. I mean, what can I possibly do to stop these people?" He shrugged. "You could blow up their Project." Al winced in anticipation of Sam's response. "What? Are you nuts? I'm not going to go around like some, some mad bomber!" "Okay, okay. It was just an idea." "A real bad idea Al." Sam kept his eyes on the black road ahead of him as the light from an approaching car filled the cab. "It's still the best we've got, Sam." The car passed by, leaving Calavicci glaring at Sam. "Well tell Ziggy to go through all the files we've got, and come up with a better idea." Beckett nodded to himself as he spoke. Sighing, Al, tapped his handlink, and disappeared with a soft pop. Sam jumped again, this time at his abrupt disappearance. Sighing, he adjusted the bomber jacket around himself, and kept driving. He had figured that the military base was the best pla ce to start searching for the other Project. He turned down the heater in the car and drove on. * * * Fox vaguely felt someone sit down next to him on his bed. He felt so tired he barely stirred, his head turning slightly. A cool hand touched his forehead, and a soft voice called his name. He blinked, and looked up, slowly. Donna was sitting next to him, wearing a loose white dress. "I'm beginning to get used to waking up in hospitals." Mulder's voice was deep and rough from disuse. "Somehow I'm not surprised. Did you get some good sleep?" Donna withdrew her hand, laying it on her thigh. "Some. I haven't been asleep long." It wan't a question. "No. I just thought you'd like to know that Dana's safe. Sam's going to stop the other project, and then it'll all be over." Donna smiled at him. She felt that the best part of being a doctor was telling them the good news. "How?" Fox rubbed sleep from his eyes, blinking. "Sam left her behind at a motel. He's heading out alone. And now we have access to all your files; they no longer get erased because Dana is still there." Mulder sat up, leaning on his left arm. "I'm impressed. How did he get her to wait for him? I could use that trick myself." He grinned at Alisee mildly. "Sorry Mulder. Sam just set out once she'd gone to sleep. I guess my husband thinks she's as determined as you do." Fox's brow knit. "Donna, there's no way she's going to let him get away with that." "She's asleep and stranded in the middle of the night. She's not going anywhere." Dr. Alisee tried to reasure him. "You don't know Dana. She'll be after him in no time." Mulder slid off the table, and clutched Alisee's shoulder for support. You've got to get me to the Control Room, right now." "Why?" Donna helped Fox stand, despite the fact that he towered over her. She realized suddenly just how thin he had become, and how quickly he'd deteriorated. "'Hell hath no fury,' Donna." * * *