Message-Id: <199801042326.PAA19148@f140.hotmail.com> From: "Carol Belyea" Subject: Chances - Chapter One Date: Sun, 04 Jan 1998 15:26:27 PST Chapter 1 Stallion's Gate, New Mexico Sunday, September 3, 2000, 7:02 a.m. When Sam regained consciousness, he found himself laying in a hospital bed. It was in the corner of a blue room, he observed. The blue walls were definitely out of the ordinary, dimly glowing with an eerie hue. There also seemed to be an invisible energy humming within them, giving an almost magical feeling to the human soul. The floor was covered with black linoleum that had been cleaned and recently polished, giving anyone who walked on it the breathtaking feeling of floating on thin air. Sam stood up and wandered around the room. It felt somewhat familiar to him. But he didn't know where the feeling of familiarity was coming from. Suddenly a door that Sam hadn't noticed, slid open to reveal a beautiful woman. She had thick curly brown hair. Sam stared at her, hypnotized by her beauty, and noticed clusters of smiling people behind the door. The woman ran up to him and threw her slender arms around his neck. "Sam, I've missed you so much!" She said on the verge of tears. With the simplest touch, Sam instantly remembered. "Donna?" ****************************** Most of the Project was constructed beneath the crusty desert floor. Three out of the ten levels were above ground and took up part of a mountainside. Each level was a maze of sterilized metallic hallways, almost tube-like pentagons. Though after spending five years there, one gets used to it and is able to find their way through the futuristic labyrinth easily. The whole Project was controlled by Ziggy, the egotistical hybrid computer that Dr. Sam Beckett created with Al's and his own DNA, enabling them to be holographically linked by their brain wave patterns. Ziggy is the most advanced computer in the world and it was a pleasure for Dr. G.F. Crosnolf, the head programmer whom everyone simply called Gooshie, to program her. All the project's living quarters were on the two top most levels, above ground. The majority of each apartment was carved into the mountainside but each has a sliding glass door leading to a balcony that was open to the outside desert air. The quarters that most of the project's general staff occupied were on the lower deck. Storage rooms, ventilation, and elevator shafts took up the core area of both living quarter levels. On the upper level were quarters that accommodated senior staff; Gooshie, the head programmer. His wife, pulse communication technician Dr. Tina Martinez-O'Farell Crosnolf. Project observer/Administrator Admiral Al Calavicci and so on. Dr. Sam Beckett once lived on the same level too, but his absence never meant the end of him to his wife, Dr. Donna Elesee-Beckett. She knew he would come home some day and always saved a place for him when the time came. So now she lived alone in the apartment across from Al. It has been three days since Sam leaped out of his last assignment. Since then, everyone at the Project has been enjoying their respite. Especially Al. His job was the hardest of all and he wonders, sometimes, why it had to be him. Experience maybe? That could be true. During the more chaotic Leaps, his adrenaline starts pumping and he gets very little, or no sleep at all. Being a 60-year-old admiral still in the Navy has that effect on a person. He always keeps his cool and stays in control; unless it has something to do with the Bermuda Triangle or anything else beyond human understanding. Then his superstitions get the best of him . . . But right now there was absolutely nothing to do. No worries. No hassles. Nada. Zero. Zip. Zilch. The sunlight was streaming brightly through Al's bedroom window, the morning rays casting shadows at odd angles in the room. He lay peacefully in his disheveled bed, wearing his most conformable red silk pajamas and hoping the peace would last. He dreamed about his life before it became a nightmare. He always had fun with Sam. They always played basketball outside by the garage, gave each other high-fives without passing straight through each other. Those "fun" days were over. It ended the very same moment Sam stepped into the Accelerator. Without Sam, Al almost had nothing to live for . . . except for keeping Sam's ass off the line. Though he had been married five times, he had never had any children, let alone a family. Sam was as close to a family as he was ever going to get. No cared about him as much as Sam did and he hoped he would come home soon. He always hoped yet it never happened. Al, being projected as a hologram that only Sam can see and hear, always felt frustrated when his best friend was at desperate straits. All Al was able to do was stand to the side and yell unheard words at Sam's harassers. He was still asleep, thinking, wondering, hoping . . . when the hybrid hunk of junk interrupted the calm. "Good morning, Admiral Calavicci!" She sound much to cheering for a computer. Al pretended to ignore her and kept his eyes closed as he said, "Five more minutes, mommy." "Very droll, Admiral." Ziggy responded to the joke. Al surrendered to the inevitable. He slowly sat up and yawned, "Can't I ever make a girl laugh?" Ziggy answered as if she were grinning. "Not this one." Al sighed knowing that now was the time for business. As he rubbed his eyes he said, "Okay, Ziggy. What's the scoop?" He got out of bed to prepare for another day when Ziggy announced, "Dr. Beeks said to report to the Waiting Room at once." As he rummaged through his closet for a suitable ensemble, Al rolled his eyes. "So what's new?" The computer's "grinning tone" returned. "Only the fact that there are over 78 staff gathering in the Waiting Room . . . greeting their newly arrived Project Director." Ill with anticipation, Al almost dropped the Armani suit he just pulled out. He had to be dreaming but . . . he felt awake. Ziggy continued, "He anxiously awaits your arrival." Trembling hands passed through his curly black hair. "Sam? . . . He's . . .," He cracked a smile, "He's home?" It sounded almost impossible to believe. "You're kidding, right?" "I never kid, Admiral." Ziggy replied with a hint of annoyance. The dream that both men prayed would come true finally had. ******************************** Deciding there was no time to postpone his arrival any longer, Al immediately sprinted out of his room still dressed in his night clothes. Though he did manage to keep at least some decency by quickly thrown on a robe and forcing on a pair of slippers. He ran all the way to the Waiting Room. While he stood in front of the metallic door, he was almost afraid of what he might find on the other side; trying to decide if it would really be Sam or someone was playing a sick joke. Denying his doubt, he lifted his hand and rested it on the palm-scanner. There was the sound of a machine's gasp, like a small piston gasket. Then the loud hum of the door sliding up much to slowly for Al's eyes. Five years. Five years? Has it really been five years of waiting? Of constantly going through painful situations? Of too many close calls? Of almost losing his buddy? The door was open now, the door to renew his friendship . . . his only family. But he couldn't see the happy sight everyone else saw. He stood on his tip-toes but could barely the center of the room. He began elbowing his way through the immense crowd. " 'scuse me . . . pardon." After pushing, shoving and practically swimming through the multitude, he reached his destination. The sight that greeted his eyes was far too fantastic to be real. As he saw Sam embraced in the arms of his crying wife, his own emotions were unleashed to quickly. His dark, chocolate brown eyes grew soft and moist. The reunited Becketts pulled out of their embrace, wiping away tears of joy. Al just stood there, speechless. Donna noticed he was there now. "It's your turn to say hello, Al." She stated with a gentle smile. The name caught Sam. He turned around and focused on Al through the glaze in his eyes. He didn't even know he was there. "Al?" He asked. He went over and stopped right in front of him. He tested his imagination by first lifting a hand to Al's shoulder. Al simply laughed through threatening tears. "Are you just gonna stand there?" Al asked humorously. He held out his arms with a big smile. "Come here, you goof." It didn't take long until the eccentric Italian held Sam in his arms, hugging him for all he was worth. Now they cried. "Welcome home, Sam." Al choked. "Thanks, Little Buddy." Sam responded in the same tone. When they finally pulled out of their bear hug, Sam noticed something unusual about his friend. "Al, you're crying." Al joked, "No, I'm just trying to see rainbows." They laughed. Then the physicist noticed another familiar person. She was tall, slender, attractive and the Project Psychiatrist, Dr. Verbena Beeks. Sam smiled. "Hey, Verbena!" She approached the two friends, smiling back. "We're all glad you back." She declared. Sam hugged her and said, "Thanks." Donna joined the group, putting her arm around Sam and whispering tentatively in his ear, "I've got a surprise for you back in our room, daddy." Despite her obvious clue, Sam didn't get it. Al smiled broadly, knowing full well what this surprise was. Sam looked in Al's direction with a confused expression asking what it was. As if he read Sam's thoughts, Al answered, "Find out for yourself. You're not gonna sucker me into telling you." Sam just laughed at the coincidence. "How did you know?" "I heard somewhere that when your good buddies with someone, you can read their face like a children's book." "I think I agree with that." Sam laughed. By now, everyone began to depart, one by one, from the waiting room with a smiling face and a clear conscious. With an arm around his wife's waist, Sam and Donna followed Al out of the Waiting Room together, side by side. ******************************** The whole day had been spent all in good fun; talking, laughing, hugging, catching up on past times, retelling memorable stories . . . and meeting new people who had just entered the world. Later that evening, Al had made reservations at the local Italian night club called La Dolce Vita (The Sweet Life) and invited the entire senior staff. Dressed in cocktail dresses and suits, they all drove out to Santa Fe, ready for a night on the town. The night club wasn't hard to find, especially with the neon sign flashing wildly in a different assortment of colors and shapes. Then there was the loud techno-music pumping all the way outside. It's the strangest combination of nationalities I'd ever seen, Sam thought once they got inside. But then again, so was Al. "I know what you're thinking," Al yelled over the volume of the music, "It's probably the weirdest thing you've ever seen, right?" "Stop that!" Sam yelled back with a smile. Donna was at his side in a short and delicate teal dress. She giggled at what she heard from the two. "I knew it!" Al exclaimed. He smiled and gave Sam a friendly slap on the back before going up to a hostess at the front desk. "Reservations for Calavicci." He stated to the brunette. She glanced down at a clipboard and pad. "Right. How many in your party?" He stated with a mischievous smile, "Miss, we are the party." "Oh, so you're the one with the special reservations. No wonder it didn't say how many. Right this way, sir." As she led him, everyone else on the staff followed him. They were led to the main area of the whole joint which was in front of the dance floor. Al took a seat at the head of the long main table. Sam pulled out Donna's chair so that she can sit, then he sat next to his friend and his wife. People were filling up the main area now. Some immediately went to dance. Verbena came in and took a seat next to Donna. "So, how's Don Quixote and Sancho getting along?" They both looked towards the two men who were deep in conversation. "Great." She smiled at them. "They deserve a vacation." "We all do. I wonder what are they talking about?" Verbena asked, noticing the sudden outburst of laughter coming from the other end of the table. "Are you serious?" Sam laughed. "Of course I am. Would I lie?" Al asked, grinning. "Naw." Sam said sarcastically. "Yeah, well. You're still a choir boy." "And you're still a jet jock, Bingo." Sam emphasized his friend's nickname. He curiously looked around the party palace then looked at Al with the same look of curiosity. Al couldn't help but notice 'The Look'. "What?" He asked innocently. "You're actually paying for this?" "Sure . . . with a little help from your bank account." He said with a smile. Sam's voice went up an octave when he shrieked, "What!?" "Just kidding!" The immediate words that came from Al and the smile on his face made Sam relax a bit. He should have known it was a joke. That's what Als do best! "Do me a favor and don't worry about who's paying. Would I really be that senseless?" Sam mockingly took a moment to think. "Well . . ." "Yeah, yeah. Quick! Go dunk your head! Your brain's overheating!" Grinning, Sam waved a fist in the air, "Why, I oughta . . ." Then he shook his head to himself, thinking, "Still the same ol' Al." He had to admit that he loved him, no matter what happened. Through good times and bad they would never lose their friendship. It had grown too strong. Now that it was one of the good times, though, he might as well enjoy. "I think we should order before they start driving us up the wall asking if we want to eat or not." "I think you're right." He picked up a red leather menu that was pre-placed in front of him and scanned down the choices. Sam was having a bit of trouble choosing. That's what happens when you don't understand anything related to Italy . . . including Al. Sam read the meals silently, "Let's see. Fettacini, pasta primavera, linguini alfredo, gnocchi . . .?" He asked Al, "What's . . .," He checked the name again, "ga-no-ki?" "Ganoki?" "Number eleven." Al looked around the menu. "That's not ganoki, Sam. That's gnocchi." The Look came back and told Al that what he said needed an explanation. Leaning forward, he emphasized the name of the dish, "Ni-o-ki." "Well, what is it like. Fettacini, linguini, spaghetti . . . ?" "Neither one. It's a lot like shells and cheese only it's made with potatoes and flour and topped with tomato sauce instead of the cheese. Actually, I think you'd like it." "It's sounds good." Sam said, a little unsure of himself. He turned to his wife who was having a pleasant conversation with Verbena. "Hey, Donna." He interrupted, "I was talking to Al . . ." "So I saw." She said with a smile. ". . . and he told me about this pasta we would like. I was wondering if you want to share a plate with me." Leaning forward, she looked deep into his hazel eyes and purred in his ear, "That's not all I want to share." Sam didn't give himself time to think and he went in for the kill. They had never felt more passion in one kiss, but they knew the kisses would get better as the years go by. ****************************** After an exhausting evening at La Dolce Vita, a restaurant which definitely pertained to it's name, everyone gladly headed back to the Project (Not all at once, of course. If that happened it would have been havoc for the highway patrol.) Some people got tired earlier than others and when they did, they left. Sam and Donna stayed there all night, though. So did Verbena and Al. They absolutely could not hide the fact that they were having a great time. During dinner, Al had mentioned humorously that it was all a "little family outing." One detail Sam made sure of was that Al was limited to exactly one glass of wine, to make sure he kept up his commitment to the promise made way back when. "Sam," Al had said, slightly annoyed, "Stop worrying. I'm a big boy now. And I've been sober for fifteen years." Al might have been annoyed by Sam's worry, but Sam remembered all too well the anger he saw in the man's eyes the night they met. Anger and desperation for someone to care. When someone finally had, he didn't know how to react. Back then, anger was the only solution. Now he's known Sam Beckett long enough to figure him out . . . almost. Though he didn't show it, Al understood his friend's concern and subconsciously thanked him for it. Sam knew how out of hand Al can get and one time, Al even admitted to some of the crazy stunts he'd pulled. Even though those night crusades were now a far memory, anything was possible. Walking down the familiar sterile halls, Verbena said goodnight to the trio and wandered off to her living quarters with her head swimming with exhaustion. The remaining three walked slowly down the hall to their homes. Donna held Sam around his middle with a husband's protective arm around her shoulders in return. Al had his hands in his pockets, head hanging and feet dragging. He looked ashamed but he felt more like the odd one out. His tie was lazily undone as for the two top buttons of his shirt. Nonetheless, he followed his friends down the infinite halls. "Al, are you okay?" Donna asked. She had noticed how quiet he had been in the passed few moments. Al looked up, a little unprepared for the question, and gave her a wry grin. "I'm fine." He lied convincingly . . . for Donna. Sam knew better but didn't say he knew. "Donna," Sam started, "Why don't you go on ahead of me. I'll be there in a minute." He had a feeling Donna knew what was up his sleeve so she didn't even try to protest. "All right. I'll be waiting." Donna purred to her spouse. She touched Al's arm slightly. "Goodnight, Al." "G'night, Donna." It sounded more miserable than it's intention to be pleasant. Sam caught it but said nothing until he was sure that his wife was in their bedroom. Sam turned to his friend. "Al, what's wrong?" He asked. Al waved off any accusation. "Nothing. It's stupid." "No, it's not. If there's something bothering you, you can tell me." Al sighed and leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know, Sam. It's just that I see you and Donna together again and . . ." That was all that needed to be said for Sam. "You've been thinking about Beth all this time, haven't you?" Al gave him the "how did you know?" look and he didn't have to say anything. Sam automatically continued, "Sometimes," his eyebrows lifted with his grin, "when you're good buddies with someone, you can read them like a children's book." He walked over to his buddy and leaned against the wall beside him. Al grinned back and shook his head. "This is getting too weird." Al stated. "I think it's perfectly normal." "Yeah, well . . ." It was his usual cut off line. But he forgot that Sam was the only person who didn't think of it that way. "'Yeah, well' what?" Turning away from the kid, Al moaned out, "Aw, Sam. I miss her." Sam walked away from the wall to where his partner stood. Resting his hand on the Admiral's shoulder, Sam said, "I know you do." Al wheeled around on his heel to face the physicist. "Do you? Do you know what it feels like to be all alone in this stinking world?" The words weren't spoken with vehemence as one would expect, but with a tone of truth. "I see how happy you and Donna are and I realize that I've forgotten what it's like to have a family. I lost everyone." Sam's eyes were kind and understanding as he looked at the shorter man. "Not everyone. I'm still here. Donna'll always be here. And you have to remember that you're Uncle Al now. Little Jonathan Albert needs a guy like you to grow up with. You can teach him things that I'll never be able to." Jonathan Albert Beckett was the surprise earlier that day. The baby was dutifully named after Sam's deceased father and his gratefully still living best friend. The first time Sam held the infant in his arms was the greatest gift. He was a father. And he'll never leave his family again, he vowed. Avoiding the mush, Al asked, "Oh, yeah. How is the little squirt?" Sam's eyes glittered. "An adorable nine pound, four ounce bouncing baby boy." Playfully disgusted, Al muttered, "That's a Beckett all right." Sam grinned. "Pretty soon, the Terrible Twos will strike and while Donna and I are happily on our anniversary, Johnny will be terrorizing Uncle Al for the whole weekend!" Al didn't share his enthusiasm. He turned around again to face the wall. "Great. So I get stuck with the kid." Sam's grin was wiped right off his face and he began to shake his head. "No, no. That's not what I meant." But it was no use. Al was genuinely upset. Sam could tell because of they way he shoved his hands back into his pockets. "Al," He began carefully, "I know it's not easy but I can't say I know how you feel. All the bad things that's happened in your life hurt me too. Not in the same way but I feel your pain." "You're probably feeling the after effects from that Simo-Leap that happened last year." Al suggested bitterly. Resting both hands on his friend's shoulders, Sam shook his head in disagreement. "No, it's more than that. You may have forgotten what it's like to have a family but you're not forgotten. To me, you're part of my family. I'm sure Donna thinks so too." Al turned back again. "You really mean that?" "Of course, I do. I mean, Donna loves you. Mom loves you, Katie thinks you're the best, I . . . Aw, hell, Al." The bear hug that came after his words told Al that Sam was telling the truth about what he had said. The hug Al gave him that morning was a "Welcome Home" hug. This was similar except it said "Welcome to the family". For Al, life as an orphan was definitely tough. No one loved him. No one adopted him because they loved him. No one adopted him because they didn't. Al knew love as lasting at the most, two years. In any way, shape or form in came in, it was love. But it always ended. Mom ran away, Dad died, Trudy was gone too, Chip died, Beth remarried, his other four ex-wives cared more about alimony then if he died or not. Children would have been nice but now Sam was all he had. "I think you're the greatest." Al whispered out, "Io ti voglio bene." Sam pulled back with a smile on his face. "What the heck does that mean? You know I don't speak . . ." Al was still quite serious. "It means I'm fond of you, kid." They began walking toward the end of the hall where their living quarters were located; Al on the left and Sam on the right. He still had the smile when he said, "Yeah, well, you're not too bad yourself. And if you get any shorter, Calavicci, we're gonna have to start feeding you some kind of extra growth miracle pill." "Beckett, I knew you were going to say that." They stopped in front of their doors and with kind eyes, Al said, "Go home to your beautiful wife. I'll see you in the morning." Sam nodded, "Okay. Goodnight, Al." "'Night, Sam." And they simultaneously entered their rooms. ********************************** When Sam opened the door to his quarters, he instantly heard lovely music that had just started playing. The song being played was called "Falling in Love" by La Bouche. It was played in a low enticing tone that made Sam grin as he followed it down the hall to the bedroom he shared with his wife. He slowly opened the door and found Donna facing the other end of the room. She was dressed in a long night gown and a white silk robe. He didn't see her smile when she him enter. Sam came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She lay her head upon his shoulder. Without opening her eyes, Donna whispered seductively, "Hi." It been a long time since the last time she was able to say that word in the same tone she used it tonight. But Sam was home now. Back in his own time. She wouldn't be up during long nights anymore, wondering if her husband was dead or alive. She secretly vowed to never let him out of her sight again. There was a lot to talk about; the Project, their new life and son. But the talking can wait until later, Donna decided. As Sam began to sway to the music and kissed Donna's neck tenderly, she forgot about the rest of the world. She turned around within the circle of his arms and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. They were still moving to the slow beat and Sam didn't let the moment pass, kissing his wife's lushes lips, tasting their sweetness. "I've missed you." Donna breathed. In answer, Sam buried his face in her long hair, savoring her exotic perfume and femininity. The music paused briefly to change songs. "I Finally Found Someone" began to play from the soundtrack to "The Mirror Has Two Faces", wonderfully sung by Brian Adams and Barbara Streisand. But Sam failed to recall the song title, movie or artists. Instead, he thought about Donna and wondered, how on earth did I ever get so lucky? Then he said outloud to the beautiful creature in his arms, "Let's make a night to remember."