PROLOGUE

New York, New York

November 22, 1966

The electrical phasing finally disappeared leaving Sam’s senses focused and sharper than he could imagine at the time. He could feel the air around him: cool, crisp, and full of tension. As he looked around the corner, he heard it. Gunfire. Close gunfire. His initial response flattened him to the pavement.

He looked up around quickly wondering what the hell was going on around him when he heard a voice beside him say, "Stay down!" He looked up to his left, seeing a man dressed in a simple suit. The black-haired man pulled a gun out of a holster by his side and slowly started to edge himself toward the inherent gunfire. Sam obeyed by plastering himself back to the pavement as his hand moved to his back pocket, trying to find out just who he was, hoping that he would be able to find out exactly when he was as well. He pulled out a worn leather wallet and jumped at the sound of more gunfire. 

The well-dressed man fell to the ground, crying out in pain. He looked toward Sam as blood began to seep from the wound in his chest. Sam quickly moved to the man, putting his hand over the others in an effort to stop the bleeding.

"Get out of here, Mr. Harris," the downed man ordered firmly, despite his pain. "Now!" His eyes drifted to the right of Sam as the assailant appeared unexpectedly behind him. "Oh shit," he whispered.

Sam quickly swiveled to see the assailant as he leveled the gun at him. He barely let out a panicked cry before he felt the sharp, intense pain of the bullet entering his chest. The shot knocked Sam back against the pavement with a stunned expression on his face. He had been shot before but, this time, it felt ten times worse. 

Moving closer to see where the bullet had entered, the assailant viciously sneered at Sam. "That ought to do it. Next time you mess with us… but there won’t be a next time, now will there? Ciao, Mr. Harris." He slowly turned around and began to walk away, stashing the gun in his long trench coat. 

He watched as the man walked away. He extended his arm out to him in an obvious attempt to ask for help before dropping his hand back to his chest. He knew that he had to try and stop the bleeding before he bled to death. He glanced down at the blood as it began to seep into his white shirt. Placing his hand at the entrance of the wound, he sucked in a deep breath of air through his teeth as he felt more pain from the pressure.

The Imaging Chamber door clunk zoomed open and Al quickly rushed onto the scene yelling as he came. 

"SAM! Sam, you’ve got to get out of here! Ziggy says…" Al’s voice faded when he saw Sam lying on the ground, his hand bloodied on his chest. 

"Al?" Sam barely breathed his name out, closing his eyes at the pain in which he was engulfed.

"Oh, gawd, no!" Al hurried to his side, kneeling beside him and tried to touch Sam, his hand flowing through Sam’s shoulder as he did so. "Sam… Sam, hang on, buddy. I’ll get you out of this."

Al quickly lifted the handlink to get information. The chances of Sam’s survival were dropping too quickly for comfort. He quickly lowered the handlink not wanting to look at the odds of his friend’s survival.

"Al?" Sam asked again, seeing him looking at the handlink. "I’m dying, Al. I know that I am. Too close. Not enough time," Sam said with a swallow and leaned his head back down on the pavement, exhausted from just that small movement.

"Damn it, Sam! Don’t talk like that!" Al ordered firmly. "You are not going to die! Sam! Sam, damn it, don’t you give up!"

Sam closed his eyes, wanting to be free from the pain that was so engulfing. He felt as if his body was being torn in two. "Al…" Sam’s voice was barely evident as he turned his head toward him, his eyes still closed. "I want to go to sleep, Al."

"NO!" Al ordered firmly. "You hang on, Sam! You hang on!" He made the decision at that moment, seeing his best friend growing weaker and paler. "You are not going to die," he said firmly, standing. He wanted to hesitate but he didn’t dare. There wasn’t enough time; even Sam knew that. He punched in the exit code and opened the Imaging Chamber door, hurrying out as quickly as humanly possible.

Sam’s blood was beginning to spread further than his clothing, spilling onto the pavement beside him. Hearing Al’s order, Sam opened his eyes against the sun that was above him and looked for his buddy. He wanted to tell him goodbye. He knew he was dying and all he wanted was to say his farewells. "Al…" Seeing Al run out of the Imaging Chamber, Sam felt suddenly alone.

This isn’t how I’m supposed to die, is it? Sam asked as he looked into the sun above him. I’m here to help people. I can’t help them dead. Or can I? He vaguely remembered someone by the name of Stawpah. He stuck one hand out toward the sun and said slowly, "Thy will be done."

PART ONE

Project Quantum Leap

Stallion’s Gate, New Mexico

April 1, 2001

Al began running through the Control Room, tossing the handlink towards Gooshie before almost literally ripping off his clothes. "Get me a damn Fermi Suit! Now!"

"Ooh, Admiral, nice legs," Ziggy purred.

Al glared at the sphere with fury. "Zip it, Ziggy! Get that Accelerator up!"

"Yes, Admiral. Already second guessing you," Ziggy acknowledged Al’s order.

Sammie Jo quickly handed him a Fermi Suit and began to pick his clothes up from the floor. "Al… What are you doing?" Sammie Jo asked softly as Beth came into the room, noticing the entire hubbub in the room.

Al yanked the suit from Sammie Jo and quickly got into the tight outfit, making sure that everything was in proper order. He didn't spare her a single glance as he started for the Accelerator. "The only thing I can do. That any of us can do." He didn't even really notice that Beth had entered the room.

"Accelerator Online," Ziggy stated.

"What in the hell are you doing, Al?" Beth ordered as walked up to him as he headed up the ramp. "You can't leap!"

Al turned and looked at her firmly. "The hell I can't! Sam'll die if I don't!"

"Al…" Beth looked at him frightened and confused, not understanding. "Nothing can be that bad, Al. You don't have to do this. It's too risky. I could lose you just like Donna lost Sam!"

"You could lose me!" Al emphasized. "But you won't. If I don't go, Sam will die!" He kissed her passionately on the lips. "Just have a med-team down here before it's too late." He took a deep breath and kissed her yet again. "I love you." 

Beth was blown away from the passion that was given to her in that kiss. "I love you too!" she yelled out as he went into the Accelerator and the door slid down shut before her.

"Ziggy, I want a full med team here, STAT!" she ordered.

"On their way, Mrs. Calavicci," Ziggy stated.

Al could feel the energy begin to surround him and fill him. It was exhilarating but the only thing that ran through his mind was a prayer. Please, God. Don't let me be too late.

The Accelerator began to whine up. The power on the Control Board began to grow, causing the room to shake from the intensity. The energy burst from the Control Panel lit up and disbursed to several local points in the room, causing the Accelerator to billow smoke as it took Admiral Calavicci into another time, depositing Dr. Beckett on the Accelerator Floor.

Sammie Jo, having assisted in the leaping process for Al, left the console and hurried to the Accelerator Chamber door. Her eyes widened in fear as a pool of blood began to form just below the prone figure there. "Oh, gawd!"

Beth and the medical team, which had just entered the Control Room, headed toward the Accelerator Chamber. Beth rushed into the room ahead of the team, pushing Sammie Jo out of the way. She was already in her adrenaline state, knowing that her patient was in a dire position and needed emergency help. The team quickly assembled around their patient, each in their own mind set of saving him. 

Beth quickly checked Sam's pulse, searching for the thump that would tell her that he was alive. There was none. "Geezus," she whispered. "No pulse," she told the rest. She didn't have to tell them what to do. A couple of med-techs were already in the act of trying to stop the bleeding. 

Hands flew over Sam's body, each having a certain job to perform. While some were stopping the bleeding, others were inserting an IV, a breathing tube, checking and double-checking his pulse and yet others to the side of him where setting up the defibrillator readying it for their Nurse Practitioner.

Beth pumped Sam's chest, determination in her face. "Don't do this, Sam. Stay with us." She breathed into his mouth, trying to bring him back. After several attempts, she knew it wasn't working. She quickly gestured for the defibrillator and took the pads. "Clear!" she ordered before sending the electrical current into the patient.

One of the med techs reached into the bag they carried down the hall and pulled out a syringe and a small vial marked "Adrenaline" on its side. She quickly filled the syringe to the appropriate dosage and set it to the side, filling another one in case it was needed. 

Beth noticed the syringe sitting next to the tech and motioned to it, grateful that her team knew her well enough to know that she would call for it if it were needed. She took it quickly and plunged the needle into Sam's heart, but didn't push the plunger in yet.

She quickly checked for the pulse she wanted, watching and making sure everyone was working on their tasks. It seemed that they had found the source of the blood loss and had temporarily clamped the artery that had been severed. 

"Don't give up, Sam," she told him, pushing the plunger in and taking the syringe out before pumping again, breathing again.

Sammie Jo stood to the side of all the chaos around her, her head shaking slowly back and forth, her mouth open. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to help but she was glued to her spot. The only thing that kept going through her mind was "There's so much blood, just like..." The thought stopped before she let the name slip out into her conscious mind. She didn't want to go back into her past again and she didn't want to remember anymore. "Dad, please don't give up," she stated softly as she went to her knees to start praying.

Several guards who were gathered at the doorway parted for even more med technicians as they came in the Accelerator Chamber with a gurney to safely transport Dr. Beckett. They were just waiting for the destination; the infirmary or the morgue was the question.

After a moment, Beth felt for a pulse again. "Gaddammit, Sam Beckett," she muttered, her hands ordering for the pads again. Quickly, she put them in place. "Clear!" she ordered again, again jolting electricity into the man. She handed the pads over and again felt for a pulse before sighing with relief. "Don't you dare do that again," she whispered, making sure that he was breathing as well. "Let's get him to the infirmary. Now!" she ordered her team.

Sammie Jo looked up as she heard Beth and her chin quivered as she watched them move him from the floor to the gurney. The team quickly took their patient away from the AC and, as she watched them wheel him away, she stood and stopped Beth with her hand. "Is there anything that I can do?"

Beth considered her request. "What's your blood type?" 

"B-negative," Sammie Jo stated after a moment of reflection. 

Beth nodded at her response, and smiled at her. "Come on, we need you in the infirmary."

Both scientist and nurse practitioner raced down the hallway to the infirmary. By the time that they arrived in the infirmary, the other med techs already had Sam prepped and had equipment set up, monitoring him.

The surgeon was scrubbed and ready for surgery even as Sam was wheeled in. Beth guided Sammie Jo to a table and sat her down. "We need a donation," she told her plainly.

"Take all you need. Hell, you can just go ahead and take it straight from me and give it all to him. Just save him, Beth."

Beth laid her hand on Sammie Jo's arm smiling sadly at her. "We won't use all of it." Without another word, she turned around and quickly set to work.
 

PART TWO

New York, New York

November 22, 1966

Al opened his eyes slowly. The first thing that was revealed was a bright sun nearly blinding him. He turned his head and slowly sat up. ‘Where the hell am I?’ He looked around with confusion before his eyes focused on a black object just a foot away. Slowly, he picked it up and glanced at the driver's license just inside. ‘There is no way in hell I look like this bozo,’ he thought sarcastically. 'The guy looks like a corpse.' 

The well-dressed man beside him slowly turned his head towards Al. "Mr. Harris?" he whispered softly.

Al frowned a bit in confusion before his eyes found the source of the whisper. He forced himself not to jump in shock at the sight of the wounded man and quickly went to the man's side. "Where are you hit?" he asked, seeing the blood that soaked the white dress shirt.

"Don't worry about me. Go... go before they come back to finish the job," he said as he closed his eyes once more, never to open them again. His body went limp, his head resting at an odd angle.

Al looked at the body for a moment, confused and frightened at the same time. 'What the hell is happening here?’ He slowly stood up and looked around yet again. Something the man said made his heart tighten. "Come back to finish the job?" he questioned quietly, getting the eerie feeling that he was the job the man was referring to. Quickly, he reached down and picked up the gun that lay beside the man and started away, keeping his eyes wide open for any kind of trouble.

He found refuge in a worn-down motel and slumped onto the bed provided, exhaling with a hint of relief. He didn't care that his clothes were stained with blood. He was just plain tired. Closing his eyes, he tried to relax but found that he couldn't. Something was nagging at the back of his head. With a sigh, he sat up and eyed the phone with question.

"555-4962," he muttered under his breath, not knowing where the phone number came from but knowing that he had to call it. Slowly, he lifted the receiver and dialed before waiting for an answer.

A soft sultry voice answered the phone. "Hello?" When there was a pause, she asked, "Nick? Is that you, Nick?"

He hesitated. The voice didn't sound familiar but it sounded very concerned, and the name she called him by didn't sound familiar either. But he supposed he had to be Nick, even though he couldn't remember his own name, or he wouldn't have called the number.

"Yeah, it's me," he said with trepidation, waiting for confirmation.

"Oh, God, Nick. I've been so worried about you. Where are you, baby? I called all the hospitals in the area. You haven't talked to me in over two weeks! Please, Nick.... Please, let me come see you. I miss you, sweetheart." Tears were evident from the slight gasps between her words, as if she had been crying for some time and the crying had been reduced to hiccuping sobs and sighs.

The sobs touched Al's heart. He couldn't just let this woman, who obviously cared for him, to be so far away. He ignored the nagging little voice that told him to stay quiet.

"I'm... I'm in some hotel on East Street," he told her.

"East Street.... East Street ... let me think. There is the Hilton on East Street... but I doubt that you'd even pick there, huh?" The little giggle in her voice helped to calm the frayed nerves. "Wait... are you talking about that hotel that over by the docks? The one that looks sort of run down? That one?" 

"Uh... yeah," Al answered after a moment. "Room 314." He hesitated. "It isn't exactly the best place for a lady."

"When have I ever been considered a lady?" She laughed. "This Bronx girl has gotten into more fights than you have, I bet. I need to put a little something on my face, and I'll be right there. Don't you worry about me, sweetums." She made a kissing noise into the receiver and then hung up the phone without a goodbye.

Al slowly hung up the phone, thinking about her comment about how many fights she had been in. "I doubt she's been in more fights than me," he muttered, moving away from the phone as an image of a pilot's seat flickered through his mind. ‘Am I a pilot?’ he wondered. 

Within twenty minutes, there was a light rapping at the door. There was a pause then another light knock, this one with more urgency in it, and a little call. 

"Nick?"

Al carefully went to the door and looked through the peephole to see a woman's blond hair on the other side of the door. He opened the door hesitantly, the chain stopping the door, causing the woman to turn around.

On the other side of the door stood a blue eyed, blonde-haired drop-dead ringer for Marilyn Monroe. Her lips painted a brilliant shade of red, curled into a smile as she saw his face. "Nick, please let me in." She nervously looked around outside obviously not sure that she wanted to be outside alone. She tilted her head to see him better in the doorway. "Please?"

Al didn't exactly know what it was about her that made him trust her but he did know that he was a sucker for the way she held her head. It reminded him of someone, but he couldn't remember whom. Without a word, he closed the door and released the safety chain before opening it to let her in. 

She gasped at the blood on his shirt, her hand coming up to her mouth. "Nicky, are you hurt, baby?" She went to him, and softly began to lift his shirt, regardless of how he kept softly slapping her hands down.

"I'm... I'm fine. Really. I'm fine. It's not even my blood," Al insisted, trying to keep the woman from completely undressing him. 

Unconvinced, she succeeded in at least unbuttoning the shirt to hold it open for her to see for herself. She saw where the bullet had entered the shirt, but didn't see the wound. She put her finger in the whole and laid the shirt back on his chest seeing where it would have landed on Al and did land on Sam. "How?" she asked as she ran her other hand up his chest.

Al looked at the hole in the shirt and at her hand as it grazed his chest. "I don't know," he said honestly, a confused look on his face. ‘Was I shot?’ he wondered.

She made a face as she looked at the blood, feeling its heaviness on the shirt, and stripped it off of him. She quickly took it to the bathtub in the other room and put it in water to soak. Coming back to him, she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close to her. "I was so worried about you. Are you sure that you're okay?" She laid her head on his shoulder.

"I think so," he answered with a frown. Somehow, having her so close to him was a bit uncomfortable. He was beginning to wonder if he hadn't been hurt somehow. After all, what kind of man doesn't want a gorgeous blond laying her head against his half-naked body?

Slowly, she began to kiss the nape of his neck.

"I think..." he started to say. His sentence ended the moment he felt the kiss on his neck.

"What was that, honey?" she said as she kissed her way from the nape of his neck up to his ear. Her hand began to run along his spine in a soft seductive manner, while her other hand came to rest at his belt, as she began to unbuckle it.

"I..." He took a breath, sighing at her enticing actions. "Aye-yi-yi!"

She softly giggled at his sound as she turned back to look at him. "I'll be right back." She popped him on his rear as she walked toward the bathroom.

Al exhaled quickly as he watched her saunter away. Whatever the hell was going on and wherever he was, he could say one thing. It did have its little quirks -- and big ones. Nice large round ones. "Oh, boy!" he sighed.

She came back out of the bathroom. What had once been a blue eyed, blonde replica of Marilyn Monroe was now a blue eyed, brunette. She smiled at him with the same colored lips, also still wearing the same long coat that had been wrapped around her. She came back over to him, and flipped back her shoulder length brown hair with a little nod and opened the coat partly, only showing her leg, her eyes giving away her meaning of what lay underneath. She began to move her coat a little more. She slipped down the top part of the coat, revealing bare shoulders. 

Al's eyebrows raised as he looked at her, not needing much of an imagination to know what she didn't unwrap. But, at the same time, he couldn't get the image of a blood-covered chest from his mind. He found he was having difficulty breathing and he felt a little sick. ‘What the hell is wrong with me? This gorgeous woman wants me and... Oh, gawd! Who died?’ he thought suddenly.

Seeing his face, change from desire to complete and total shock, she went to him, laying her hand on his arm. "What is it, baby? What's wrong? You were hurt and you're hiding it from me, aren't you?"

Al took a shaky breath. "Someone died," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I..." He swallowed tightly. "I can't remember!" He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling devastated but not knowing why.

"You can't?" She quickly reached into her coat and pulled out a pistol, putting it to his head. "Or you won't?"

Al quickly turned his head towards her in shock. "What?!" ‘Just great! Just freaking great!’

"Come on, Nick. We know that you killed Jim Davidson. Admit it and we can work something out."

"Who?" Al questioned, slowly making his way away from the woman. 

She cocked the revolver that she had and aimed it plainly at him. "Have a seat," she said as she finally disrobed from the coat, having on a pair of shorts, and a red and white halter-top on. She never took her eyes away from him. "Tell me what you know about Jim Davidson's murder. We know that you did it. All the evidence points to you. The only thing is ... you may not believe me now, but we can help you. If you are truthful, we can keep you from spending the next ...oh ... life sentence out of jail. First, tell me, did you kill Jim Davidson out of malice or was it self-defense?"

"I...." he started, trying to figure out what was going on. First of all, he didn't know who the heck Jim Davidson was. Second, he didn't know who this woman was. Third, he did not like being accused of murder and her accusations were only getting him mad.

"Listen, lady, I don't know what the hell you are talking about. Now, I called you because I need some help and I damn sure didn't expect you to go brandishing that thing around for the hell of it," he told her with a growl. "So, put the gun down, all right?"

Even as the woman put her left hand up to steady the gun in her right, a white rectangular door opened from out of nowhere off to his right. A young brunette stepped through the door holding what looked like a recorder. She glanced around the room, then her eyes came to rest on the lady with the gun and the man it was pointed to. She placed her hand to her head and blinked her eyes as if she had been in a daze. "Oh man, I think I'm gonna be sick," she said softly before the mechanism in her hand began squealing at her loudly.

"Okay... Okay. Give me a minute. I'm not used to this sensation that I'm having here, Ziggy." She looked up at Al. "Okay... ahm, Admiral, you need to tell that lady here.... Paula... Paula Rumen – she’s an agent with the FBI, tell her that you killed Jim Davidson out of self defense."

Al quickly turned his head at the sound of the young lady's voice, not having seen her enter the room. He didn't know how this young lady got in without him hearing the door open and close, but he didn't care. He didn't even realize that she had called him Admiral for a moment.

"You're right here! Why don't you tell her?" he said with forcefulness, drawing a strange frown from Paula.

The young woman looked up from the mechanism in her hand and brought her left hand up to smack her forehead. "Admiral, you have to tell her. She can't hear me. She can't even see me. You can see me because I'm linked to your ... ahm... oh never mind the technicalities... just tell her. Ok?" she said, frustrated. "Oh… and look at her... not at me."

Al frowned at her words, even more confused than before. He looked at Paula and then the young woman before looking at Paula again. "I... killed him in self-defense?" he said, unable to keep the questioning tone from his voice.

Paula looked at him with a knitted brow. "Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?" she asked as she took another step toward him.

Al leaned back a bit at her stepping towards him. "Would you believe both?" He took a breath. "Listen, I swear to you, I have no clue what you're talking about." He looked at the young woman. "Either of you. So if one of you would just tell me what the hell is going on, I'd greatly appreciate it!"

Paula lowered her gun slightly. "Nick, I know you weren’t expecting this. I mean, we’ve been dating for a while and I never told you…" She looked at him firmly. "I’m FBI… and if I have to shoot you, I will. But I want only the truth from you."

Sighing, the younger woman approached him from the side and faced Paula. "Okay... what I'm about to tell you is going to make you think that I'm nuts, but here goes. You, Admiral, have left your reality. Actually, you are in the year... 1966. You have replaced another person and he has replaced you. You're here to help put something right in his life, then you'll leave. What you have to do, is tell Paula here that you, I mean Nick, killed Jim Davidson out of self defense and then ..." The mechanism in her hand squealed. "Oh boy.... then you have to keep yourself and Paula here alive for the next 24 hours."

Al frowned at her words. It didn't make any sense at all, especially with her constantly calling him Admiral and talking about Nick in the third person. It also didn’t help that she and Paula were speaking at the same time. If he wasn't Nick, then who the hell was he? He looked at Paula, noticing the confusion on her face that was tinged with impatience.

The brunette couldn't help but be flustered. She began to pace, not realizing that she was passing through objects in her way. She walked through an end table, then turned took four paces and walked through a part of the bed. She was so mesmerized by the mechanism in her hand, reading its lights and screens that when she finally stopped her pace, she was in the middle of the bed -- her upper half appeared to be floating while the bottom half had vanished. "This doesn't make any sense at all," she finally said as she looked up at the two people in the room. "If you already told her about Jim Davidson and having killed him in self defense, then you should be leaping." She slapped her hand against the mechanism, and it squealed loudly.

Al's eyes were strictly focused on Paula, who still kept her gun on him, but he was getting a weird feeling about this new woman who was speaking in riddles. It took everything he had not get hysterical when he saw her walking through the bed. Okay, I'm hallucinating, he told himself. I'm hallucinating a very familiar young woman who is talking about leaping... whatever the hell she means by that... and who can walk through things. Either that or I'm seeing ghosts.

Paula couldn't help but look at him with a frown. She softly shook her head. Something was very wrong with him. But, she kept her gun on him not wanting to fall into any trap where she might lose her gun. "It ain't going to work, Nick. I'm not going to fall for the crazy act. I wasn't born yesterday."

The young woman looked up at that remark and snickered. "You said it, sister, not me." Rolling her eyes, she looked down seeing that she was in the middle of the bed. "Oh... sorry, Admiral." Casually, she strolled out of the bed and stood beside him once more.

"Why do you keep calling me that?" he demanded, looking at this young woman, whose name was on the tip of his tongue. His words caused Paula to growl. 

The young brunette dropped her shoulders at his words. "Why do you call a cat a cat, and a dog a dog? Because they are one," she answered for him. "You are an Admiral, sir." To prove her point, she saluted him. "And if you continue to act this way in front of her," she pointed to the woman standing before them, "Then you’ll be the one with the bullet hole right about here." She motioned toward his chest but her hand passed through him. "Oh… sorry." 

Al gasped at her actions, jumping back slightly before forcibly making himself still once again. He looked from the young woman to Paula and hesitated.

Paula took a step towards him and raised the gun higher. "Well, Nick, which was it, malice or self-defense? Or aren’t you sure again?" It was apparent that she had rung completely out of patience.

Al swallowed tightly, seeing that she was definitely serious about using the gun in her hands. "Self-defense, 100 percent self-defense," he answered more firmly than he did before, though he couldn’t remember ever having killed anyone in his life. For that matter, there is very little that I can remember.

Paula looked at him as she raised an eyebrow and nodded at him. "I knew that you couldn’t kill out of malice. But I had to be sure." Slowly, she lowered the gun, sighing with relief.

"Well, now that she has lowered the gun... why don't we go to the head together and we can talk more... ahm... privately?" 

Al nodded slightly. He looked at Paula warily. "Are you done with that for now?" he asked carefully nodding toward the gun. "Because I’d rather not be shot anytime soon." When she nodded, looking a little embarrassed and a lot relieved that she didn’t shoot her lover, Al exhaled with a little relief. Slowly and methodically, he made his way to the bathroom, watching Paula like a hawk. Still, he didn’t turn his back on her as he entered the bathroom and closed the door.

The young brunette watched as he walked toward the bathroom. Looking down at the handlink, she moved her finger above it in a circular motion to find the button that would relocate her. Finding it, she pushed it and magically reappeared in front of the Admiral, who was leaning against the bathroom door. 

Al jumped slightly when she appeared, causing the door to shake slightly. Closing his eyes, he tried to calm down his rapid heartbeat.

"Oh, sorry about scaring you like that, sir. I’m still getting used to the handlink. My first time with it, ya know," she said with a grin.

Al frowned and looked at her with trepidation. "Who and what the hell are you? And what’s that… thing?" He pointed to the mechanical device in her hand. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Oh yeah… I bet you have that memory loss thing that Gooshie was talking about," she said as she moved a piece of hair out of her face.

"Gooshie?" he asked with a slight frown. "Geeky guy with unruly red hair?"

She nodded with a smile. "And bad breath that could keel over a cow… that’s him." She looked back down at the handlink and then held it up toward him. "Okay, quick lesson, so pay attention. This is the handlink. The handlink tells me things from the parallel hybrid computer back at the…"

"Ziggy," he said interrupting her.

"Yes. Ziggy… Ziggy tells me stuff through this thing." Al looked at the handlink with a frown. Somehow it didn’t seem right for her to be holding it. "And… my name… ahm… well, I’m not sure that you’re ready for that just yet. But well, you can call me Victoria." Victoria saw the look that crossed his face. It was almost as if he was trying to sort everything out. "Admiral? Are you okay? I know it’s a lot to absorb all at once."

He pointed to the handlink in her hand. "I should be holding that." He looked at her, his eyes softening at the sight of her. "I know you," he said softly.

"Yes, Admiral." Victoria knew that she couldn’t help him, but she couldn’t help but grin. "You know me, that’s for sure, but I can’t tell you why. You’ll have to figure that out on your own." She took a deep breath and rolled back on her heels for a moment… a movement that she had seen him do so many times before.

The movement caused something in Al’s memory to click. "Queen Victoria," he said suddenly, the words flowing out without him thinking about it.

Victoria laughed at him. "Far from the queenly type, I’m afraid, but that’s a memory that I haven’t thought about in quite a long time. Where did that come from?" 

"I don’t know," he answered honestly. "I just remember I used to call you that all the time." He looked at her again and realized, "Your name is Victoria Jayne."

Victoria looked up from the handlink at him as he called her by name. "In the flesh… well… as flesh as a hologram can get." She walked up to him and smiled sweetly. "Well, I’m glad that you remember me. Makes me feel extra special." She couldn’t help but lift her hand up to place it on his shoulder, but the action was useless as her hand passed through his shoulder. "So much for holographic pats, huh?"

Al shuddered. "Honey, would you mind not doing that again? It gives me the serious heebie-jeebies."

"All right, da…sir. You got it." Giving him a salute, she quickly turned away and did her best not to look at him for a moment as she began to study the handlink once again. She knew that she almost blew it, and that Ziggy would have a conniption if she had let that little word slip.

Al watched her carefully as she studied the handlink. He knew in his gut that there was more to their relationship than a nickname from her past, but he shook it off for a moment. "Okay," he said as he started pacing, his mind going over what he had recently absorbed. "Okay, so what is exactly going on here? I remember Gooshie, I remember Ziggy, but the rest…" He shook his head. "It’s really foggy. Like you telling me that I’m an Admiral. I don’t remember that," he huffed. "Hell, I’m not sure of my own name anymore. I’m getting the feeling that it isn’t Nick."

Victoria looked up at him as he talked and placed the handlink in her pocket. Trusting her own instincts on this one, she said, "Your name is Al. Don’t ask for last names because I’m not going to tell you unless you remember that yourself." Seeing him mouthing his name and nodding with a frown, she continued on. "I’ve checked with Ziggy," she pulled the handlink back out and pointed to it. "And she says that all she knows is what I’ve told you at the moment. There are times when she just… well... is stubborn. But, we’ll find out why you’re her. You just believe me when I tell you that I’ll be around to help out. Okay, Admiral?"

Al laughed sickly before swallowing. "Yeah, I guess," he told her as he paced the small bathroom. "I’m… uh…" he swallowed before looking at her with pain-filled eyes as the memory of the waking nightmare came back to him. "Who died?"

She reacted with a poorly concealed flinch. "No one has died. Well… except for Jim and your, I mean Nick's, bodyguard… but no one else." ‘I hope. I haven’t heard any news on Dr. Beckett, but I’m sure that Mom is doing the best that she can.’ 

Al rubbed his face to clear his mind. He stopped pacing and shook his head. "Then why do I keep seeing, in my mind, a familiar man calling out to me… dying?" He swallowed tightly.

Victoria quickly turned away from him. ‘Coming into the Imaging Chamber and seeing Sam on the ground and rushing out to leap into him must have embedded it into his memory.’ "I’m not sure, sir." She licked at her dry lips. "But," she turned back to him again hopeful that he would understand. "Even if I did know something, I couldn’t tell you. Rules, Admiral, at this complex are very strict and can not be broken."

"I’ve broken the rules more times than I can count, so don’t give me that, okay?" Al looked at her fully knowing that what he said was true. His confusion and anger grew as he looked into her eyes. He could tell that she knew something, and was keeping it from him.

Victoria didn’t look away. She knew that if she did, he would know there was something to figure out . Her gaze shifted back and forth between his eyes as she heard the anger in his voice. Using the words that she had heard so many times from him, she said, "Well, I’m not you, am I, sir?"

"No," he answered and exhaled in frustration. "But I do outrank you. And if I ordered you to do so, you’d have to tell me… but I would think that I wouldn’t have to order my own daughter to tell me what I need to know!" It had just come out from nowhere. He just suddenly knew who she was… and it shocked him into a blinking contest with her. "Oh, jeeze. That’s how I know you."

Victoria blinked at him, and finally looked down at the handlink once more. The colorful array of buttons began to flash in a pattern indicating that this was developing into a bad situation. "Well, now that you’ve figured it out," she began slowly. "I guess we need to continue on with the briefing. Ahm… let’s see…"

Al watched her carefully. He stepped closer, and tried to place his hand on her shoulder, but his hand passed through. "Of all the people to send in to help me… why did Sam…" He took a deep sudden breath before looking at her fully. "Sam’s the one hurt… dying… isn’t he?"

Victoria looked up much to quickly. To cover her mistake, she asked, "Whom?"

When she didn’t respond properly to his question, he stood toe-to-toe with her and glared. "Isn’t he?" he bellowed. "And don’t you dare say you don’t know who I’m talking about because you do. I can see it in your eyes, Victoria Jayne!"

Victoria swallowed hard when her father bellowed at her and called her by her full name… the way he always did when he knew that she was in trouble. She just stared at him, deciding that the best answer for him was not to answer at all. Let him think what he wanted to. She set her jaw and rocked her teeth back and forth knowing that if she focused her gaze onto his that she could maintain her composure as she had so many times before in front of her father.

"Dammit!" Al yelled at her as he moved back to the door. "Why? Why can’t you just tell me?"
 
 

PART THREE

"Nick?" A knock sounded on the bathroom door. "Are you okay?"

Al growled at the question, his interrogation being interrupted by the whacko woman who had just held the gun to his head. He turned and opened the door, forcing himself to calm down. "I’m fine," he told Paula as he exited the room. He sighed a bit. "I’m just not feeling well." 

"Okay." She walked away from the door and raised an eyebrow warily at him.

Al glanced back at Victoria before heading towards the middle of the room.

Inside the bathroom, Victoria sighed and unlocked her teeth. She hated herself at the moment. ‘I should have just told him’, she thought to herself as she caught the backwards glance that he had given her. She walked through the bathroom wall and started towards him, looking apologetic.

Al went to the bed and sat down and watched Paula coming over to him. "So… what now? The FBI, huh? I guess you told me everything that I just needed to know." He frowned at her. "Except who in the hell shot my friend?" He spoke with such ferocity that it left no doubt to anyone who knew him to whom he was referring.

Victoria moved toward her father and shook her head. "No, Dad… she didn’t shoot Sam. Don’t…" But he wasn’t listening to her.

Paula flinched at his words. "I… I don’t know who killed Daemon. I …" She hesitated again, as she looked at the ground, not sure if she should look up or not – worried that she would have a gun stuck up into her face.

Al exhaled and sat beside Paula on the bed. "I believe you," he told her. But it was obvious that he didn’t really trust her as much as she would hope.

She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and when she finally did open her eyes she quickly grabbed one of Al’s hands. "I… I love you, Nick. I… I don’t want to lose you." She said, obviously avoiding his questions. "I want to be with you… only you." 

Al pulled his hand away, acting on his own initiative rather than what the leap said he should do. "So, you just decided to throw me to the FBI? Oh, yeah. I forgot. You are the FBI," he finished in a low growl before heading for the exit, grabbing the gun he had taken from the guard’s body.

"Nick," she said softly as he headed toward the door.

The handlink squawked loudly alerting Victoria. She read the information, and spoke as quickly as it was spurting out. "Dad, you need to go out the window in the bathroom. Someone just drove up and Ziggy says that it's not the FBI. It's... go... god..." She slapped the handlink a few times trying to get the information out of it. 

Al was in the middle of opening the door when a bullet whizzed past his head, causing him to hit the floor reflexively.

"Nick!" Paula stood up to go to him. She didn’t get far, falling to the floor as a bullet grazed her cheek, leaving a bloody slash.

"No!" Al called out, quickly crawling over to her to make sure she was okay. "Victoria!" He yelled, knowing that she would know what he wanted to know. 

Victoria quickly went to him. "Yes, she's fine. She's just got an scratch on her cheek. She'll have a nice little scar there... destroys the Marilyn look... but she's okay. Now... you have to get out of here. Come on... follow me out the window!" The handlink finally gave her the information that she needed. "God … what? WHAT!? The Godfather?" she asked as she turned her head up toward the ceiling. "No... I have to get Dad out of here now, or we will be having problems in here with him! I won't have that, do you understand? So shut up with the quirks!"

"Great! Just great! We're being shot at by Marlon Brando!" Al said with sarcasm, crawling into the bathroom with Paula in tow.

Victoria leaned back through the outside wall and pointed at the window just above her. "Come on! Get a move on! They'll be inside within the minute and kill everyone here!" 

Moving into action, Al quickly went up to the window, which he hadn't noticed before due to the white paint that covered it completely. Grabbing a towel, he smashed the window and helped Paula slip through the jagged remains. 

When she landed, she felt her ankle turn and pop, and tumbled to the ground. Moaning in pain, she glanced at her foot and the immediate swelling told her it was most probably broken.

Al skimmed through the window and held out his hand. "Come on, Fed! Move it!" 

"It’s broken, Nick! I’ll be okay. Go on! Go!" she said as she leaned back against the brick of the building, holding the injured limb. She looked up into his face and smiled. "I love you." She saw how he was taking a tentative step toward her. "Go, you silly ass… go." She shooed him with her hand and looked up as she heard the voices coming from the window. "Please," she said softly.

Victoria looked down at the handlink and impatiently said, "Come on, Dad… she can handle herself… let’s go!"

Taking a deep shaky breath, Al bent down and kissed her softly on the lips as he gave her the Magnum. He then turned and ran down the alley, searching for an escape. He came upon a road and turned away from the hotel. He could almost feel the people in pursuit and he struggled to find a safe haven.

Beside him, Victoria was punching buttons on the handlink in rapid succession, not really understanding what each one would do. She was trying to find someplace for him to hide, but nothing was working. Finally, she called out, "Dammit all to hell! Will someone in there please tell me where in the hell he can hide? Someone! Anyone! "

Al stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and looked to his right. Of all things to notice, he would have to find a kind of building that brought on vague memories. He rushed up the stairs and quickly entered through the large wooden doors before finding his way towards a small, secluded room that was reserved for only an elect few – the sacristy. He sat down on the nearest chair he could find and took deep, slow, calming breaths. 

Victoria, who had been yelling at the ceiling with her eyes clenched shut, finally focused on the location of her father's refuge. "Oh, this is good," she said sarcastically. 

Al glared at her. "Have more respect, young lady! And where the... where did you learn that language you were using? You swear like a sailor!"

Victoria looked at Al hauntingly. She wasn't sure why she felt that she had suddenly been demoted from a ranking staff member to that of a daughter already. She took in a brief breath and huffed. "I have respect for the Church. You just didn’t make a good choice to lay low. It's too small a confinement and there's only one way in, one way out. If they find you..." She let the sentence drop and ignored the rest of his comments.

"They won't kill me in here," he said firmly. "Trust me. If there is one thing the Italian mob respects, it's the Church, even if they break every commandment there is in the Bible." Al exhaled again. "But… if you’d stop distracting me, I might have chosen something different."

Victoria was about to object but stopped and closed her mouth. She pulled up the handlink and opened the door of the Imaging Chamber. "Fine. I won't distract you anymore." She turned to leave.

"Abandoning your father?" It was a low blow, but his mind was still racing from what had just happened.

She stopped in her tracks, her left shoulder dropping at his words. Tears immediately came to her eyes, but she didn't turn around. She closed the Imaging Chamber door instead to keep her from racing away. 

Al was taken aback momentarily at her silence. Quietly, he was looked around the sacristy. Finding a monk's robe, he slipped it over his head. In the moment he had to collect his thoughts, he recalled the slump of Victoria's shoulder as he had barked at her. His heart tightened at the cruel words he had said.

Victoria took a shaky breath as tears silently fell down her cheeks. Using the back of her hand, she wiped them away, then stood up straight as best as she could, but that one shoulder still slumped. "I'm sorry, Daddy." She whispered hoarsly.

Al sighed painfully. "No, Vicky, I'm sorry. It was a cruel thing to say. You were... you were just trying to look out for me." He wanted to kiss her forehead and take away the tears he heard in her voice.

Victoria didn't turn around. She couldn't until she could handle her emotions. She knew how Al hated it when she cried. She had always hidden her emotions from him, and this wasn't the time for her to cry in front of him. She wiped at her face once more rather quickly and gritted her teeth together once more, trying to focus as she had before. "What do you need me to do?" she asked through her teeth.

Al took a breath. He didn't feel comfortable with his own daughter being his Observer but he knew that he couldn't rely on anyone as much, other than for one particular man. He smiled at her, using his hand to try to turn her head to look at him. But, his hand went through her cheek instead. "Dammit," he muttered, forgetting his own lecture to her.

She quickly turned to him. "Dad, you're in a church! Remember?" She saw his face and grit her teeth again, knowing that he didn’t want her to be his Observer. "You want me to go back, don’t you?"

"Yes," he said bluntly.

"Tough sh..." She began as her left shoulder finally came back up, her anger now building at his bluntness. "Ca-ca!" She replaced the word that she wanted to use. "I'm it, Dad. You don't have anyone else. So... if you want to do this alone... and I mean completely alone... then I'll leave. But I'll be…" She stopped and shook her head. "Screw it. I'll be damned if I leave you back in the past when there is something trying to kill you." In the bluntness that once Al had called his own, she replied, "Deal with it!"

Al couldn't help but smile, then began to laugh.

Victoria threw up her arms and turned around in a circle, obviously ranting. "Great. Now my father is insane. This is just peachy. I try to save him, he goes insane, we can't bring him back, and his best friend is dying." She hadn't realized that she had said it until it was out of her mouth. Victoria's hand came up to her mouth. "Oh, Daddy, I'm sorry... I... I wasn't thinking... I..."

His laughter died down when he heard the last of what she said, his face becoming somber. He exhaled. "I'm not insane, Victoria. I'm proud. No one has ever stood up against me the way you just did... other than Sam," Al continued, not allowing her to continue her apologies. He didn't want to look into her eyes when he asked the next question. "How bad is he?"

Victoria shook her head as the handlink went berserk in her hand. "He already knows, Ziggy. What’s the point of burping?" she said softly. Looking at her father, she said softly, "We're not sure, really. They were operating on him when I came in. He'd lost so much blood. Sammie Jo was his personal IV." She stopped catching herself again before openly crying in front of her Dad and swallowed. "I ... I think that they lost him at one point, Dad. But, you know Sam. He's a fighter. He has to be," she said softly. "He has a good teacher."

Al kept his head lowered for the exact same reason. He didn't want his daughter to see him cry. He had never cried before in front of her and he wasn't about to start now. 

"Thanks," he said softly before rubbing his hands through his hair. "We better get going before the DeNiro wannabes find us." He quickly raised the hood of the robe to cover him head.

"What are you going to do? Walk out of here as a priest?" she asked, confused as he put the hood on his head. "Sorry... Dad... but you're a far cry from holy."

Al chuckled at that. "That may be true but they don't know that." He stepped out of the sacristy and started for the exit. 

Victoria nodded, understanding, and followed close behind.
  

PART FOUR

Project Quantum Leap

Stallions Gate, New Mexico

Jan 1, 2001

After hours in the operating room assisting the surgeon, Beth finally came out looking frazzled beyond comparison, her eyes tired from the strain. Taking the operating gloves and gown off, she tossed them into a disposal can and sighed as she slumped into a chair. She didn't know what to do or say. All she knew was she was scared.

Donna woke when the chair beside her moved and she blinked at Beth sitting beside her. Just from the look that she saw on Beth's face, she became immediately concerned. "How's Al?" she asked softly as she laid her hand on Beth's hand.

Beth gasped at her words and turned to her quickly. ‘Oh, my God! She doesn't know!’ She covered her mouth with her hand before taking a breath, forcing herself to calm down before going into what she had to tell her. "Donna," she started, wondering how to break the news to her.

Donna sat up straighter and patted Beth's hand. "I'm here for you, Beth. What is it? What do you need? I'll get it. Whatever it is." Her voice was apologetic and overbearingly helpful.

Beth sighed, knowing that she really meant her words but that she herself should be saying those words. She didn't see how to tell Donna without being direct with her. "Donna, that isn't Al in there."

Suddenly, the doors burst open, causing Beth to turn directly to the source. "Mrs. Calavicci! Code Blue. Beckett's not responding again!" The nurse turned around and went back into the room hurrying back to the patient’s side. Inside the room, the faint sound of a continual beep began to resound.

Beth reacted instinctively and ran back into the operating room, wishing that the whole thing could have been a bad dream. She hurried to the table and immediately began the fight to bring Sam back.

"Beckett?" Donna responded loudly as she went in behind Beth.

"Damn it, Sam," Beth whispered as she pumped his chest with all her might. "Don't you die. Al would never forgive you!" ‘And neither would I.’ As she spoke, the chief physician rushed into the room and immediately took over.

Hearing Beth say Sam's name confirmed Donna's fears. Donna went to the bed, and watched helplessly as Beth pumped her husband’s chest. She gasped when she saw Sam's face, the tubes going in and out, and she covered her mouth. 

"Paddles!" the doctor ordered when he found that his efforts weren't working. He grabbed the paddles from Beth, making sure that they were charged before shouting "Clear!" and jolting the patient, receiving the heartbeat as a response. He sighed with relief at the sound and made certain that Sam was stable before he took a step away.

Donna went to Sam and caressed his cheek as she whispered softly into his ear. "Don't leave me, Sam. You just came back. Don't leave me again."

Beth couldn't help but overhear and her heart tightened; they reminded her of her own husband out there in the past. She could almost hear her own voice saying those same words. It just wasn't fair. None of this was.

Knowing that Donna wasn't going to leave without forcing her out, Beth took a step towards her and gently took her arm. "Donna, you have to leave now," she said gently, hating her words.

Donna kissed Sam's cheek, and brushed back the gray lock of hair from his face. She didn't want to leave his side. ‘What if he needs me?’ she asked herself. She continued to softly brush his hair, looking down at him with loving eyes. Donna glanced at Beth and then looked back at Sam again. "I know, Beth. I know." She didn't move, but continued to brush his hair back, wanting and needing her husband to wake up and talk to her. 

"I'll take good care of him. I promise. But you must leave," Beth coaxed, gently pulling her towards the exit. 

Feeling the gentle tug on her arm, Donna took one last look at Sam. "I love you, Sam." With that said, she turned and left the room with tears openly flowing down her cheeks. She just hoped that she wasn't saying goodbye.

The Imaging Chamber door opened to reveal a very irritated young woman. Victoria was shaking her head and muttering under her breath. She was so irritated that she didn’t see Beth coming over to her. "I can't believe this. Dad is being so odd, and now...now I have to be the hologram. This sucks!"

Beth couldn't help but smile at her daughter's ramblings. She went up her and put her arm around her shoulder with affection. "How is he?" Beth asked gently.

"Dad's ... Dad's.... Oh hell, Mom, Dad's Dad." She said flustered. "He can be so damn irritating. How do you put up with him? He won't listen to a single thing that I say."

Beth carefully combed her fingers through Victoria's curly brown hair. "I figured he might be a little stubborn."

"A little? A little?! " Victoria's voice rose. "Jeeze, Mom, he knows who I am, and all of a sudden I was reduced from Observer to little girl!"

Beth looked at her daughter with affection. "Just be glad that he remembers you, Victoria. That's the most important thing."

Victoria slumped against the wall. "I know, Mom, but..." she sighed heavily and shook her head. "He said, quote: ‘Running out on your father?’ and then said ‘If you’d stop distracting me, I would have chosen a better place.' " She sadly shook her head. "I was going to leave because I was so frustrated at him, at the situation. I know that he's felt that way about Sam. Why does he have to be so hard on me?"

"I'm sure he didn't mean to be, Vicky," Beth tried to assure, thinking the exact same thing that Victoria voiced.

"Oh yeah, right, Mom." Victoria pushed herself off the wall walking toward Ziggy’s console. "He's been harder on me than any of the other girls. Jacqueline even said so just the other day when I talked to her on the phone." She tossed her arms in despair. "I give up Mom. I mean, really. I'll do what needs to be done to help Dad get back, but then... I'm not coming back up here again."

Beth frowned at her words. "You'd break his heart!" She couldn’t help but understand her daughter’s feelings. "Oh, Vicky, don't you see that? He adores you."

Beth sighed with understanding before hugging her gently. "Don't let him get to you, honey. You know it's all talk. He loves you, Vicky," she said gently. "More than you can imagine. He knows what you can do and he has his own way of getting the best out of you."

Victoria broke in. "At the risk of hurting is own daughter? Words can hurt, Mom. And hearing Dad say that I was walking out on him, that hurt so badly. I..." Her chin began to quiver slightly. "I know that he loves me. I know that. But ... dammit...." She turned around and punched the wall as hard as she could, the sound echoing in the room.

Her actions worried Beth incredibly and she took the hand Vicky had used on the wall. "Victoria Jayne, you'll hurt yourself that way." She quickly checked it for injury before shaking her head in frustration. She carefully touched a sore area to see the reaction on her daughter's face. Beth examined the hand carefully and saw that it was becoming more bluish by the minute. It frightened her greatly. Very gently, Beth tested her worst fear by rubbing a finger over the area, only for my daughter to call out in restrained pain.

"MOM!" Victoria said through gritted teeth. "Dammit! That hurts!"

"Of course it hurts," Beth told her with reproach. "It's broken." She looked at Victoria with motherly concern and reprimand. "Victoria Jayne, what were you thinking?"

Victoria stepped away from Beth and drew her hand close to her chest to baby it. "Of Dad, who else? I mean.... I don't know Mom. I'm just so aggravated, I could go ahead and break the other one as well."

Beth sighed, shaking her head. "Come on up to the infirmary. Let's get that taken care of." ‘If only she weren't so much like her father,’ Beth thought sadly.

"Yes'm." Victoria Jayne said as she followed her mom down the corridor.
 

PART FIVE

New York, New York

November 22, 1966

It had been several hours since Victoria left the Imaging Chamber and that gave Al plenty of time to think about everything that had happened since he leaped into Nick. He had the bad feeling that he already failed in his mission, according to Ziggy. Paula was probably dead and he was on the run still. 

Then there was Victoria. He couldn't believe he had been so hard on his daughter. He didn't know why he had pushed her away, other than the fact that, in the back of his mind, he was trying to protect her. From what, he wasn't sure. He lay on a tattered bed in yet another motel room – this time making double sure that he wasn’t followed there – still dressed in the monk's robe, staring at the ceiling. If the situation wasn't so dire, the idea of his current situation might be humorous , ‘Now what?’ He thought.

The sound of the Imaging Chamber door sounded off to the right and Victoria stepped out with a cast covering her right hand, all the way up to her elbow. Her arm hung limply at her chest in a makeshift sling. She surveyed the room again as she came in and found her father lying on the bed. "Dad," she stated in a non-committal tone. 

The moment he heard her speak, his head turned towards her. He sat up quickly, seeing the cast and sling, worry clear in his eyes. "Vicky, what happened, sweetie? Are you okay?" He stood and tried to touch her face before pulling it away in frustration. Al looked at the cast again and the worry increased in his eyes. "Honey, what happened to your arm? How badly are you hurt?"

"I'm okay," she said dryly, even at his endearment. She didn't want to get emotional, but with the medication that Beth had given her a little over an hour ago, she wasn't sure that she could hide emotions at all. The pain she was feeling from her hand was extreme, and she was already on the verge of crying. It wouldn't take much to set her off. She looked down at her arm and then looked back up to him. "It's broken, Dad. That's usually what a cast means." She looked past him as she took a few steps away. "It's also called Calavicci anger."

Al frowned slightly before nodding a bit. "The wall won," he translated, getting the feeling that, if she was anything like him, she had the renowned tendency to box walls instead of punching bags.

"Damn straight," she said under her breath. Turning to him, she said, "Doesn't matter, does it?" She frowned at him. "Maybe I should come back later," she said as she looked away from him to adjust the sling that was restricting her.

Al hesitated, wanting only what was best for his daughter. He could tell she was in pain, even if she tried to hide it. On the other hand, he didn't want her to go. He wanted her to stay and talk to him the way they never got the chance to... or so he had the impression.

When he didn't say anything, Victoria called up the Imaging Chamber door once more with her left hand. 

"Vicky, don't go," Al finally said, seeing that the Imaging Chamber door was directly behind her. "Please." He looked at her lovingly.

"Oh... yeah." Victoria said not looking at him. "I don't want to run out on my father," she said throwing his words back at him as she asked for the door to close. 

Al winced at the words he had spoken to her. He rubbed his hand over his face slowly, realizing that the brief apology he made before wasn't enough, even for him. He took a step towards her, wishing once again to be able to hold her.

"Victoria," he said gently, saying the name with the Italian accent he always used with it. "I'm sorry, baby. It was a horrible thing to say. I didn't mean it."

Victoria turned to him suddenly. "Dad, you always say you didn’t mean it when you do something mean and cruel, even by accident. This, though, I think you meant," she said fighting off the tears that were right below the surface. She took a shaky breath. "Yea, it was horrible to say and probably you really didn't mean it but what's done is done." The words she had used, she had heard over and over through her years growing up. 'What's done is done.' And for some reason to say it back to him was enough.

Al didn't think he could feel more broken-hearted. He could almost hear himself say those words and yet he knew that it did nothing to ease the hurt. Still... He took a breath and exhaled. "Vicky..."

Before she let him say anything, she broke in, "Listen, Dad, the meds aren't helping here, and my hand is really killing me. I'm going to go back and lie down. I'll be back in a little while when this is a little better, okay?" Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the handlink to call up the door once again, but her hand hovered for a second then dropped. 

Al nodded gently, more concerned about her than ever. "Sweetheart, if you have to stay away to take care of yourself, then do it. Please. I'd rather know that you were being taken care of than for you to be here hurting..."

"Dad..." she tried to stop him, but didn't succeed. "Dad..." she tried again finally succeeding. "Do you honestly think that a Calavicci will leave someone in the past without an escort?"

Al gave her a half of a smile. "Probably not," he had to admit. He looked at her firmly. "But I mean what I said."

Victoria nodded to him. She stepped out of the doorway and closed the door yet again. She went to him and stood a foot away from him. 

"Daddy, I... I love you whether you meant it or not. I just wish..." She stopped herself from going on to say it. She couldn't tell him face to face what was really bugging her. So, she looked down at her feet remembering what Beth had said. "Why... Why is it that you are so hard on me?" Beth had told her to talk to him about it... why not now? "I can't ever do anything right."

Al slowly walked away, thinking about how to answer her. He couldn't remember being hard on her other than in the church but it sounded to him as if it weren't the first time he had been so to this woman. He sat down on the bed and exhaled.

Taking his silence as an answer, she looked up at him as he sat on the bed. "Jacqueline, your oldest daughter was able to do everything. She did everything ahead of everyone else.... you practiced on her... I understand that one. Elizabeth, my twin, never gets caught doing anything wrong and when she does, it’s a soft punishment. It's possible that she is so much like Mom that you don't see or don’t want to see any problems... and Christie... hell, she can't do anything wrong... because she's the baby. She wouldn't do anything horrendous. But me? I threw like a girl. I was the lanky one that none of the guys wanted and then when I had a potential boyfriend, you scared him off. That was last year, Dad. Poof... gone. Not good enough. Every since I was young, everything wasn't ever good enough. I'm not Jacqueline, Elizabeth or Christie. I can't live in their shadow. I can't. And it seems that you have me in all of their shadows. Why can't you just love me for me? " Victoria made her way to the floor and sat down deflated. She had finally gotten it off of her shoulders and now that she had, she felt worse than if she had just kept her mouth shut.

Al swallowed at her words. "Maybe..." He exhaled. "Maybe it's because you're too much like me," he said quietly. 

"What?" She asked softly.

"I don't want you to wind up like me," he said, raising his head. "I... I'm not supposed to play favorites. I'm your father, after all. But..."

She broke into his sentence. "Favorites??" She asked flustered. "If that is what it was... playing favorites... I guess that I know where I lie between the six of us."

Al looked at her, finally catching her eyes in his. "I was hardest on you because you are my favorite, Victoria," he said firmly. "When you were born..." He swallowed tightly. "I can't remember the details but I do remember that I was scared. I was scared of losing you." He lowered his head. "I guess I'm just a little... overprotective."

Victoria sat there, breathing deeply to keep herself from crying. She had the paper clippings from the ordeal that her parents went through when Beth had given birth 2 months early. The incubators, the IV’s placed in both babies... one being stronger than the other. And how the littler of the two had a heart murmur, a deflated lung, and wasn't expected to live through her first night. Even then I had defied the laws placed on me, and here I am now... doing it again. "I know... Dad. I'm sorry." Victoria quickly stood, not looking at him, afraid that her emotions would get the better of her.

"No, I am," Al told her as she headed for the door. "I'm sorry I was so blind with my fear of losing you to realize I was keeping you from living." He looked at the ceiling. "What a damn idiot I am!"

She closed her eyes, this time the tears overflowing onto her cheeks. ‘There they go...water works,’ she thought to herself. "Dad..." she started but couldn't stop herself from crying.

Al, hearing that she was crying, stood and went over to her. Hesitating from not knowing what he could do, he stood in front of her and looked at her with soft eyes. "Vicky, please, look at me."

Victoria looked up at him slowly, her tears still falling down her face. "Yes sir." She said softly.

He smiled at her lovingly. "The next time I act like an ass, you let me know. I love you, sweetheart."

Victoria smiled at him. "I love you too, Daddy." She wiped at her eyes and sighed. 

Even as she finished the sentence, there was a loud pop and Al grasped his arm in agony before slipping to his knees.
 

PART SIX

"DAD!" She yelled to him as she ran over to him. "Are you okay?"

Al took a deep breath, carefully uncovering his wound to look at it. "It just grazed me. But... Damn! It burns like hell!" He covered it again.

"Get down, Dad!" She hollered, as she knew that there would be more than one bullet coming. 

Another loud pop resounded and Al yelled out in pain. Victoria dropped to her knees beside him, seeing the bullet had entered near his collarbone. "Oh no!" Victoria looked up toward the heavens. "Ziggy! Get him out of here!"

Al collapsed forward, breathing hard to keep from screaming again from the pain. He struggled to at least try to cover the wound but found he couldn't even reach it. 

Victoria quickly put her hand through her father as she tried to help him cover it but couldn't. "Daddy?"

He looked at her with understanding eyes but said nothing as he started towards the exit carefully, trying to get his free hand under the monk’s robe and towards the gun tucked in his beltline. One thing he knew, he'd be a sitting duck if he stuck around here.

"Come on, Dad, we need to get you outta here."

"No shinola," he whispered. "Are any of them still out there?"

Victoria glanced out the window and saw someone starting to come toward the window. "Oh Dad..." She turned back to him with tears already beginning to rim her eyes. "Go!" 

He reached for the door handle and found the pain almost unbearable, forcing him to use his other hand, which had the gun in it. However, before the hand could reach the handle, the door started to open, and Al staggered back. ‘Trapped!’ he cursed mentally as he found himself leaning against a wall. He winced in agony of the severe pain in his shoulder.

Victoria stood there watching the scene before her unfold. She couldn't stand here and watch her father be killed by these mercenaries. "ZIGGY!!" she yelled out frantically. "Get my Dad out of here!! NOW!" As she went to him, a man entered the room behind her. "Dad..." she said softly looking at him as the tears fell down her cheeks. Realizing that she was helpless for her father, she limply said, "I'm here, Dad."

Al smiled gently at her as he slid to the floor. He knew there was no way he could fight these men with his shooting arm completely out of commission. He had previously checked the number of bullets left in the gun and knew he only had one. But he'd be damned if he was just going to let himself be murdered by these men.

The tall, bearded man who entered the room had his gun pointed up in the air and quickly leveled it on a quick sweep of the room. Upon seeing "Nick" against the wall, he cocked his head to the side, looking at him. The bearded man quickly turned at a noise at the window and quickly leveled the gun on it.

"Easy, boss. Just take it easy. It's just me," the other man said as he stepped through the window and raised his hands quickly.

Upon seeing his cohort, he glanced back at Al. "So...Nick...we meet again," he said with a leer, swinging the muzzle back to Al.

Victoria was quickly punching buttons. "Dad... that man's name is Edwards. Ben Edwards, and his, hmm, attractive companion over there is Jake Rend."

Al looked at the man with scrutiny before speaking. "Okay, Ben, we meet again. Now, how about we all make nice-nice and call it a day." He knew that there was little chance of that even as he said the words.

" 'Nice-nice'?" Ben asked humorously only for his laughter to die in his throat. "When have I ever been nice?"

"Never, boss." Jake replied as he began to walk toward the bed.

Victoria looked at Jake. "Shame. Dumb too." 

"Must be hell getting the girls, then," Al commented as he slowly stood up, using the wall as support. He forced himself not to shut his eyes as the pain surged through him.

Victoria looked surprised at her dad as he stood, leaving a blood mark going up the wall. "Dad... don't tick him off. Don't be an ass. Now is not the time."

Ben didn't look enthused at Al's comment. "It'll be harder to get the girls when you're dead, Nick."

Al exhaled. "Yeah." He swallowed a bit. "I'm not very fond of that idea. Do you think there's a possibility of compromise? I mean..." He laughed sickly. "I'm no match for you guys and you've obviously got me."

Ben looked at Jake then back to Al before he looked away. "Compromise? After you killed some of my boys? You want a compromise?" Jake smiled a sickly smile at Ben before he brought his pistol up to inspect the sight on it.

Victoria stood beside her father, "Oh, Dad, please, I... I don't want to..." She couldn't say it. She couldn't say what she knew was going to happen.

Al didn't know what to say to that, to either his daughter or to Ben. He had a strong feeling that compromise was definitely out of the question for these men. He took a deep breath and raised his gun, praying that his one bullet would be enough. "Okay. You're going to kill me? Then get it over with." 

"No, Daddy, no!" She couldn't believe what she just heard.

Ben looked up at Al as Jake leveled his gun on Al's chest. He knew that all he had to do was nod and it would be over. Jake smiled as he looked over at Ben. He chuckled as he looked at Al standing before him. "Serves you right. You shouldn't have killed Lonnie."

Al winced in pain, nearly losing his footing in the process. ‘I could use a miracle right about now,’ he thought as he closed his eyes. 

Jake, seeing that Al had a gun, lowered his own gun and fired, the shot ringing loudly in the room, the bullet entering Al's upper thigh. Al yelled out in pain as he slumped to the floor again, gritting his teeth against the renewed agony. The gun flew from his hands just far enough that he couldn’t reach it.

"No!" Victoria screamed as she dropped to her knees, not knowing if he was alive or dead. Her hand flew to her face. She was so wrapped up in her own emotions that she couldn't hear him, even thought she was right beside him. She began to sob.

Al breathed heavily as he looked at his daughter, concern etched on his face. ‘Please, don't let her see me die,’ he thought sadly. "I'm still here," he tried to tell her in a low voice. "I'm still here."

Victoria suddenly got an idea. Without looking in Jake’s direction, she popped up, pushing the buttons on the handlink, and re-evaluated the link hoping to hit on some frequency that was close to Jake’s. She was sure that she had it when she heard a gasp coming from that side of the room. She looked up at him then, and sneered at him. "Listen here, you bastard, I'll find you wherever you are. You won't kill my father and get away with it." She took several steps toward him before seeing the gun slowly move in her direction.

Jake took several steps away from her, aiming the gun at her. "Where the hell did you come from, lady?"

Ben looked at Jake confused. "What the hell are you talking about, Jake?" 

Victoria smiled at the gun. "Go ahead, shoot me. See what happens. I won't die. I'm..." She thought about her Dad laying on the floor and looked at him, amazed that he was still alive. "I'm from hell itself," she said, her hands slowly opening up the handlink sparkling in her palm. "I’ve come to get you, Jake. I’ve come to take you where you belong."

Ben was in shock. ‘What the hell was going on?’ he thought wildly. "Jake, what the hell is the matter with you?" he shouted angrily.

Al raised his head to see what was happening. A smile slowly crossed his face. He watched the scene unfolding before him, trying not to laugh at how Jake was reacting to Victoria. ‘That’s my girl,’ he thought to himself.

Jake's gun hand wavered. He gasped at the handlink and her words before taking another few steps back in a near stumble. "You get the hell away from me, lady!" He cocked his pistol to defend himself from the vengeful creature.

Victoria turned and walked through the table, showing that she wasn't of this earth as he knew it. She began to come up to him, smiling mischievously at him. "You better run, while you still have a chance...." she said, hearing his statement. "While you still have legs." She lightly clicked her teeth together making him think that she would take bites out of them anyway.

"Stay away from me, you demon!" he shouted, firing his gun in the vain hope that it would hit her. 

Across the room, Ben hit the floor as a bullet entered his thigh. Growling at the other man's stupidity, he cursed loudly. "Jake! Get your scrawny ass back in here and help me!"

Jake screamed in fright as Victoria approached him. He dropped the gun and ran for the door. He didn't even notice that he had hit his own boss in the leg and that Ben was on the floor screaming at him.

Al took the chance the chaos allowed and reached for Jake's fallen gun, struggling across the floor to get it, leaving a trail of smeared blood on the worn carpet.

Victoria turned to see what her father was doing and frowned. "Dad... you shouldn't be moving!" She raced over to him wishing that she could help.

Ben saw what Al was doing and pulled out a gun and leveled it on Al again. "Uh-uh-uh... I wouldn't if I were you, Nicky-boy."

Al froze, only a few feet away from the gun. "Why the hell not? You're going to kill me anyway, aren't you?"

Ben looked at him sadly. "Actually, I was thinking about compromise before that idiot shot you and me, but... things happen," he said oddly as he cocked the gun. 

"Don't they?" a female voice responded as a muzzle of a gun was gently pressed into Ben's temple.

Al's eyes went to the woman with surprise. He couldn't speak, his mouth wide open at the sight of her. Paula stood before them, her voice strong with conviction. "Drop the gun."

Victoria looked at Paula with a sigh. "Redemption draweth nigh," she said with a smile. Looking up at the ceiling, she mouthed, 'thank you.'

Ben slowly put the gun on the floor and she kicked it out of the way. Her gaze met with Al's, filled with concern. "Nick, are you okay, hon?" she asked softly. 

Al could only shake his head at her question. "No, I'm not okay! First of all, I've been shot three times and, second of all, I thought you were dead!"

"No, baby-doll. I'm not dead. I was able to get away while they were chasing after you," she said with a smile. "I tried to catch up with you and finally found you when I saw the goons on your butt." Paula turned to the man that came up behind her. "Take this trash out of here and call an ambulance for Nick." Without waiting for an answer, she quickly moved to Al's side. "Let me see," she said softly. "Where?"

Al looked at her with a lecherous smile as he pointed to his lips. "Well, it could be here…" He slapped himself mentally. ‘You're a married man!’

"DAD!" Victoria said shocked at his words.

Paula smiled at him. "Yeah, it could be... but it's not." Upon a quick inspection, she removed the pillowcases from the bed to stop some of the bleeding. "Damn, boy, why'd you move around so much? You've lost a lot of blood."

"Call it survival instinct," Al replied quietly as his eyes went to his daughter and smiled with pride at her.

Paula looked down on him and shook her head. "I'm worried about you." She began to see how pale he was getting. "Dammit, where are they?" She nervously bit at her lip.

Victoria looked at her Dad's coloring. It wasn't good at all. He had moved way too much. "Daddy?"

Al smiled yet again, his eyes drifting closed. In barely a whisper, he said, "When am I going to leap, sweetie?"

Victoria looked down at the handlink and pushed the button for an update. "I don't know Daddy. Ziggy won't tell me."

Paula looked at him oddly. "Leap? You're not leaping anywhere... you're hurt."

Victoria knelt beside her Dad not sure when he would, but she wanted to be beside him when he did leap. "I love you, Dad." She hoped that she wasn't saying goodbye. 

Al smiled gently at the words. "I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered softly. His eyes opened at his words, suddenly realizing what he needed to do to leap. He looked at Paula with a smile. "I love you," he repeated carefully.

Paula's head slowly cocked to the side. "Leave it to you to get sentimental." She lowered her mouth to his for a passionate kiss before backing away and saying, "I love you too, you sap."

He took a shaky breath. "Do you think... after all this is over with... that there's the slightest chance that... well... you know."

Paula smiled at him "You want to marry me?" She asked for him, knowing that he'd never say the words.

"Is that a yes?" Al whispered, growing more tired.

Paula saw the tired expression cross his face and knew then that if the ambulance weren’t here in just a few minutes that she wouldn't have a chance to. "That's an exactamundo," she said softly placing her lips on his cheek. "Stay with me, baby."

Al's eyes opened and his head turned for him to see the ambulance driver hurrying into the room with a stretcher. He smiled yet again as a wave of electricity filled him, depositing Nick back in the past.
 

EPILOGUE

The quantum phasing vanished slowly in a twinkle, leaving Al feeling a little nauseous, unused to the strange effects that quantum leaping had on a person. As his vision cleared, he noticed a hulk of a man standing directly in front of him, giving him a glare that indicated that if he didn't say just the right think, he was in for a whooping.

"Well, Corporal? What is it? Waiting for the corn to grow or are you going to answer me!?" The man bellowed at him hauntingly.

Corporal?! Al thought with a hint of shock. ‘Corporal?! I'm not a corporal! I'm a... I'm...’ He sighed mentally. ‘I'm in deep ca-ca.’

"Sergeant, get this trash out of my face," the man ordered as he looked at Al. Another young man came up to Al and put his hand on Al's upper arm.

"Come on, Corporal Jenson. Let’s go." 

Blinking with a bit of confusion, Al obeyed slowly, sneaking glances over his shoulder at the man who has first assaulted his ears. He could have sworn that he saw Admiral stars on the man's shoulders. ‘Great. Talk about the role-reversal from hell.’