Just Another Leap

Lorraine Anderson

Note: This is pre-Donna Elisi

Sam kept his eyes closed, delaying the inevitable. He was lying on a padded table. He could smell the tangy smell of drugs, antiseptics, and other things best forgotten -- he must be in a hospital or a clinic. He chewed his lip and sighed, wondering what had made him pass out after he Leapt in.
"Oh, you're awake, are you?" a friendly voice said.
He opened his eyes. Standing over him was a white female with her red hair drawn back into a bun. She was wearing a lab coat and had a stethoscope around her neck. Automatically, he studied her further, trying to decide what year he was in, but her image was strictly neutral.
"Who are you?" he ventured.
She laughed gently. "My name is Anne. I'm a doctor."
"I figured that." Sam pointed at the stethoscope, then blushed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to sound cross." He looked around. The room was bare and nondescript. No windows. "What am I here for?"
She smiled. "I was hoping you could tell me that. You arrived here, then collapsed before anyone could talk to you." She sobered. "But first things first. What's your name?"
Uh-oh. "I... uh... don't remember," Sam said, taking the safe course. "Didn't I have any identification?"
The doctor frowned and chewed her lip. "You... didn't come with any identification."
"Ah," Sam said. "I didn't come in with anybody, then."
The doctor shrugged and smiled. "No."
He looked down at himself. He was wearing white pajamas. "Did I have any clothes besides these?"
"No."
Sam rubbed his forehead. "We have a problem then, don't
we?"
Anne laughed. "We certainly do!" She went toward the door. "Well, I think you just need a little reminding. Tell you what... I'll just get a lady who's an expert on these kinds of things. Ok?"
"Oh..." Sam said. "A shrink." Was it possible he was in a mental hospital again? He winced, thinking of the last time.

"Yes," Anne smiled. "A shrink. I'll be right back." She disappeared out the door, and he heard a distinct click.
"I'll be waiting," he said ruefully to the door, then got up and tried it. He was right. It was locked.

Sam was exploring around the room when the door opened again. "We're here," Anne said cheerfully. "Before we get to work, do you happen to remember who you are?"
Sam slowly turned around, then gaped. "Verbena!" The elegant black woman put her hand to her mouth and quickly backed out of the room. Anne had gone pale. "Are youVerbena Beaks?" she asked hesitantly.
Sam looked at her, puzzled, slowly realizing, then looked around the room. "No. That was Verbena Beaks! Doctor Beaks! You thought I was Verbena...?" He sat back against the table and looked at her cautiously, hardly daring to hope. "Um... you wouldn't happen to know Al Calavicci, would you?"
Anne's mouth dropped open.
He started grinning. "Is this Project Quantum Leap?"
"Doctor Beckett?" she said slowly.
He raised his face to the ceiling, silently thankful, then smiled at the doctor. "Call me Sam. Would you get Dr. Beaks back, please, and for heavens sake, call Al!"
The Doctor, still pale, ran for the door and opened it wide just as Al walked in. "Verbena just ordered me to get in here, and why. She's waiting outside. Having trouble?" Sam just grinned, walked to Al, and grabbed him by the arms. Al looked at him, startled. "Al. When did you hire a doctor that I didn't know?"
Al looked sharply at Anne. She was still looking distressed, but she managed a small smile and nodded. "Sam...?" he said tentatively.
Sam nodded.
Al wiped at his eyes. "Oh, God. Sam. You're finally back!"
"It's good to see you in person, my friend." Sam laughed. "Anne, could you please get Dr. Beaks? I think I scared her to death!"
Al laughed. Anne smiled, then practically dove towards the door. "And spread the news around," Al yelled.
"I was going to!" Anne grinned. She smiled even more as she saw the two wrap each other in a big bear hug.

The Infirmary started getting crowded as people started pouring in the door. Sam found himself giving hugs to people he had never even met, but he didn't care. He was home! He even gave Gooshie a hug, who jumped out of his skin.
Just as the room reached capacity, Al jumped on the table. "This is no place for a party," he yelled. "Somebody open up conference rooms three, four, and five, get those damned partitions down, get the beer and chips and the music and we'll really have a blowout!"
"Al," Sam protested as people merrily exited the room. "I just got back. A party...already?"
"No," Al said. "A party. At last. This party has been planned for years." He looked concerned. "I'm sorry, I'm not thinking. Tired, kid? Are you up to it?"
"Tired. No," Sam sighed. "A little weary, maybe. I can't believe I'm back. I keep wondering whether this is just a dream -- or perhaps a trick."
Al smiled. "No dream. No trick. C'mon. Let's get some real clothes on you. You'll feel better when you get to the party."
"I'm not so sure."
"I'm positive," Al said, pulling him out of the room. "C'mon, Sam. You're going to disappoint a whole lot of people if you don't go, you know."
Sam laughed. "Anne," he shouted across the room. "Will you release me for the party?"
"I should do an examination on you..." The crowd groaned, and she laughed. "...but I had better wait if I don't want to be killed. Afterwards?"
"It's a date."

Three hours later, Sam decided Al was right. He did feel better after he got to the party. They seemed even happier to get him back than he was to be back. Then why did he have this niggling feeling in the back of his mind?
He sat down in the back of the room, took a swig of pop, and looked out over the crowd, wondering whether he was supposed to know most of them. At least a quarter of the staff seemed completely unfamiliar -- some of which could be attributed to normal turnover -- but he still had doubts about his memory. For example, who was President? The last one he could think of was Ronald Reagan. And he knew that only took him up to the late 1980's. And closer to home, who was that lady Al was dancing with? Did he know her? Al seemed to think that he did.
Perhaps he was worrying too much. He looked down at his clothes. He had been to his office, picking up his clothes. His clothes. They were actually his. His jeans. His shirt. He was getting so tired from wearing other people's clothes. Hell, he was getting tired of living other people's lives. Then why did he feel so disappointed?
"You look rather depressed, Dr. Beckett," said a female voice.
Sam started, then smiled at Anne, who had sat down beside him. "I thought I told you to call me Sam."
She smiled. "So you did."
"Besides -- you have the advantage of me. We never were introduced, Anne. When did you join the staff?"
"Shortly after your first...uh, Leap," Anne said, her smile fading. "After they realized you needed around the clock..." She blushed.
Sam snorted ruefully. "I kept having pronoun trouble, too." She laughed. "I meant the person in the Waiting Room. Anyway, they needed around the clock care. You could never tell how a subject might arrive." She blushed even deeper. "I'm sorry. I've always imagined what you might be like, but..."
He looked at her. "I'm sorry if I scare you."
She smiled. "Hardly that. It's just that I've been looking at your face for three years...yet this is the first time we've met. To tell the truth, I don't know how to react around you."
"Hey, I don't know how to act. I've been acting like other people so long..." He sighed, then smiled. "You seemed more confident in the Waiting Room."
"I knew all the right things to say."
"You have a good bedside manner."
"I've had to develop one. Most of the people in the Waiting Room were either very confused or very frightened or very mad, or all three at once." She smiled. "I take it you didn't know about the bodyguard outside the door, just in case you..." She blushed again.
"Just in case 'I' got loose, huh?"
"Yeah."
"I'm sorry."
She look startled. "It's not your fault."
"Indirectly, it is."
"Well, yes." She jolted him slightly by her reversal. "But it's a great achievement, Sam. Don't feel guilty." She looked a little shocked at herself. "I'm sorry. Here I am, telling the genius of the project what to do."
He smiled ruefully. "This 'genius' could've used somebody to stop me from getting in the accelerator."
She smiled. "I wasn't around then -- and I'm certain I couldn't have stopped you from doing anything you wanted to do. Besides, it worked, and you're back. It just took a little longer than expected, right?"
Sam sighed and smiled. "I guess you're right."
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped. "Of course, she's right."
"Jeez, Al! I thought you were bad as a hologram, sneaking up on me all the time!" He looked at the dance floor. "Where's your blonde?"
"Oh. Well, I was tiring her out. She took five. We have a date for later. Good thing Tina's out of town." He leered in anticipation.
Sam shook his head. "Again? I'm not sure I believe half of your stories."
Al looked shocked. "Would I lie?"
"Well...I just remembered who she is. She's married. To a man who would make a weight lifter look like a lightweight."
"Divorced." Al pointed a finger in Sam's face. "So there."

Sam looked doubtful. "Divorced?" He looked at Anne, who nodded. "Oh. Well, I guess I have a bit of catching up to do." He laughed. "I never did find out your last name."
"You two have been in this corner, talking for the past twenty minutes, and you don't know her last name? Oh, Sam," Al said, looking profoundly disappointed. Sam grimaced, and Anne laughed. "Dr. Samuel Beckett, meet Dr. Anne McPherson. Anne, meet Sam."
Sam laughed. "Pleased to meet you."
Anne attempted a curtsey, sitting down. "Charmed, I'm sure." She gave Al a mischievous look. "I may be one of the few woman on the Project who hasn't been introduced to Al between the covers."
Al rolled his eyes.
"Slowing up in your old age, huh?"
"Nothing of the sort," Al said. "She's the daughter of an old friend of mine. Remember Pete McPherson?"
"Oh. Yeah. He lives on the East Coast, right? You've visited him a couple of times since you've been out here."
"And I have morals where something like that is concerned."
"Oh. Well, nonetheless, if she hadn't been..."
"I would've tried my damndest," Al said sincerely.
"Uncle Al," Anne said. "I love you dearly, but you're just not my type."
"Yeah. I know. He's your type." Both Anne and Sam blushed. "Hey, two at one blow!"
Sam gave him a dirty look. "Did you come over here for a reason?"
"Well...yeah. People are starting to drift off. I thought it might be a nice idea if you gave them a short speech. You know, thanks, and all that. PR stuff."
Sam made a face. When he saw Anne's expression, he explained, "I hate public speaking."
"Well, they've worked their tailbones off trying to keep the Project going. I was here, remember?" He tugged at Sam's arm tentatively, as if he expected his hand to pass through it. "Just a short speech. Then you can go home."
"Home," Sam said, and a smile came on his face.
"Al can't understand someone not wanting to draw attention to themselves," Anne chortled.
"I know," Sam said. "I know."
He stood up quickly, then got up on a chair. He felt dizzy for a moment, then someone took up the cry of "speech, speech!" Wondering how a farm boy from Indiana got into this position, he smiled at the crowd.
After the staff quieted, he started. "As all of you know, I've been gone a long time. It's been a long journey home." His voice broke slightly. "I understand you have all been working very hard to further the Project, and less importantly, to help me."


A murmur of protest swept across the crowd. Sam held up a hand. "I want to apologize for all the trouble I've put you through, and I wanted to thank you from the bottom..."
Suddenly, he turned pale. The room seemed to spin. He barely heard a scream as he fainted sideways off the chair.

He was out only a minute. He woke to see balloons floating over him, then he closed his eyes, shook his head, and opened his eyes again. The faces came in focus. Anne was taking his pulse, and another hand was wiping his face with a wet cloth. He sat up. "I'm all right," he said, then his head started to hurt. He put a hand up to it.
"No, you're not," Al said from someplace, and a hand pulled him back down again. He looked back to see Al, wet cloth in hand. "Judas," he muttered. "I knew you hated public speaking, but..."
Sam smiled and snorted. "I don't think that was it, pal. I just felt a little weak." He looked around at the group staring down at him. "Anyone got an aspirin?" The crowd stirred as a group of people started sprinting for their offices.
"Oh, no!" Anne said. "No aspirin for you, not yet, anyway. Some tests, some blood work, a EEG..."
Sam looked up at Al and winced. "Physician, heal thyself..." Anne said. "I've heard that doctors make lousy patients. And I think you better spend the night here under observation."
"Can she do that?" Sam said, eyebrows raised.
Al shrugged. "She's the senior medical doctor here right now -- except for you, and you don't count."
"Not the Infirmary again."
"It's the best spot we have...unless you want to go to the hospital," Anne smiled.
"Oh, all right. I've been gone so long that a couple more days won't matter." A thought popped up, but Sam shivered and suppressed it.
"What?" Al said.
"You don't want to know."
"Out with it."
"Suppose...just suppose I was sent back because I was seriously ill?" he muttered, unwilling for the crowd to hear him.
"You're right." Al grimaced. "I didn't want to hear that."

Sam pulled on his shirt. "Well?" he said.
Anne looked at her notebook. "You're healthy. No brain tumor, which was my first... and worst... suspicion. No ear infection, either. And I think we've run every test in the book in the last two days. Maybe you're just tired."
"Verbena?"
"I concur. In spite of some memory loss, you're as healthy, mentally, as you've ever been."
Sam stopped buttoning and grinned at her. "I like the way you put that."
She smiled back. "Hey, I call 'em as I see 'em."
"Anybody sane," Al spouted. "...would've waited before jumping into an untested accelerator."
"I'm not insane, I'm..."
"Eccentric. I know."
Sam stared pointedly at Al's green, red, and blue jumpsuit with matching kelly-green tie. "Takes one to know one."
"I'm... fashionable."
Sam finished buttoning his shirt. "Uh-huh. So -- do I get to go home?"
"Any time you want," Anne smiled.
Sam grinned at her. After a while, Al cleared his throat and said, "Well, if you two are through, I'll drive him home." They both blushed, and Dr. Beaks smiled at Al.
"I can drive myself home," Sam protested.
"Uh...no, you can't, Sam. Your driver's license expired last year. And besides -- your car's in storage, remember?"
"Oh. Yeah." He grimaced. "I forgot. Legally, I'm non compos mentis, aren't I?"
"I've thought that for years," Al grinned. Sam glared at him. "Never mind. I'll give you the scoop on everything on the way home... like Anne's phone number."
"Al!" Anne protested.
"And I'll give you his later. Fair enough?"
Sam stood up and pulled at Al's sleeve. "I think you've embarrassed us both enough. C'mon. Drive me home."
"Unless you'd rather have Anne...?"
Sam smiled at Anne. "I'll take an option on that, ok?"
"Fair enough," Anne said. "See you later."
"Good to have you back, Sam," Verbena said. "Have a good rest. You deserve it."
"Thanks. I think so, too. See you later."
Al remained silent as they walked down the hall and out of the building, for which Sam was rather thankful. He felt like a kid on the day before Christmas -- happy that the day had come, but anxious about what was going to come up.
"I stopped by the store yesterday and got you some food," Al said suddenly. "And a toothbrush and all that good stuff. When it looked like you weren't coming back soon, we cleaned everything out."
"That's right. Thanks." He felt tired. "And thanks for transcribing all those letters to Mom and Katie. And Tom," he said belatedly. God, how could I forget Tom? he thought with a shock.
Al looked at Sam sympathetically. "Your phone is still on. Are you calling them tonight?"
"Yeah," he said shortly, then shook his head, looking around. "Where's your car?"
"Oh. Got a new one. Over here." He pointed to a low-slung silver vehicle with recessed solar panels on the roof. Sam ran his hand over them. "Nice. I like it."
Al stroked the hood. "Costs a little more than a gas guzzler, but they're coming down. I can get about 200 miles on a cloudy day, unlimited when it's sunny -- and extra battery storage in the back. The best thing about it is that it doesn't pollute." He smiled. "I just wish they made one that looked like a '65 Mustang."
"Not as aerodynamic."
"Suppose not."
Sam sighed. "Time didn't stand still back here, did it? I have a lot to catch up on." He got in the car and just about sat on Al's CD case. Opening the case, he fingered a CD with amazement -- they were just about the size of a quarter. "Like this. When did they get so small?"
"Oh, a couple of years ago." He grimaced at them. "I still like my record collection, though." He pulled out of the lot, burning rubber. Sam, half expecting the startup, sat back and tried to relax.
"I keep telling you that the CD's are clearer..."
"But not quite as romantic."
"Romantic?"
"Putting a record on is romantic. Putting a tape on is like putting bread in a toaster. And we won't even talk about CD players." He pushed a button, and the CD tray came out. "See?"
Sam leaned forward with interest. There was a CD carousel in the tray with six CD's loaded on tiny spindles. "Nice. Must have a hell of a suspension system to keep the laser from bouncing around."
"Well...it's more convenient. It's kinda hard to plug my stereo system in the car."
"Hmmm. True." Suddenly, Sam got dizzy, turned white, and slumped back against the seat.
"You all right?"
Sam shook his head, then wished he hadn't. "Just a little dizzy, that's all."
"You don't get motion sick," Al stated. "I've seen you on too many amusement park rides."
"Probably just tired. It'll be nice to have a vacation." Al chewed his lip. "I am going to have a vacation, right?"
"Well... yes."
Sam closed his eyes. "Ok, what's going on?"
Al looked tired. "Well... I didn't want to tell you before... but there's another Committee review on Thursday."
Sam looked at Al. "Thursday?"
"Yeah. I can handle them by myself, but..."
"...you all thought it would be better if I showed up."
"If you think you're up to it. Some of them still don't believe me. Do they think I'm in New Mexico because I'm having a nifty time with the rattlesnakes?"
Sam ignored the rhetorical question and sighed. "I'm going to have to be up to it, aren't I?"
"Well -- you are the genius on the project." "And I still have swiss-cheese-brain-itis." He looked out at the desert. "Well, I can fake it. I have before."
"Yes, you have." Al was silent a moment. "You still look like a ghost. I think I better sleep on your couch."
Sam looked at him. "I'm all right. Really." He spoke without conviction.
"Uh-huh. Would you rather turn around and go back?"
"Blackmailer."
"Then I sleep on your couch. I'm still the Observer, you know." He thought for a moment, then smiled. "Unless you'd rather have Anne... in closer proximity."
"Al, I just met her a couple of days ago!"
"So...?"
Sam smiled. "She's much prettier than you, though."
Al tossed his head. "That hurts, Sam. That really
hurts." He hesitated a moment. "Even though it's true."

"Hi," Anne said, poking her head into Sam's office. "How was your night?"
"Mine or his?" Al said, rubbing his back. "He slept like a baby. However, his couch and my back do not fit together."
"I told you that you didn't have to stay," Sam said, looking up from his terminal.
Anne came in and looked suspiciously at the pair. "Yes, Uncle Al. Why did you stay the night?"
Al and Sam looked at each other, acting like naughty boys in a cookie jar. "I didn't want him to get lonely?" Al offered.
"Right." Anne planted her hands on her hips and stared at them.
"Ratted to the cops, didn't I?" Al said, looking the other way.
"He stayed because I had another dizzy spell on the way home." Sam sat back and smiled. "But I feel fine, now. A good night's sleep will do wonders."
Al nodded. "I was just exercising my option as Project Observer. Otherwise I wouldn't have stayed in that technological haven he calls an apartment."
"And why are you back at work, Sam?"
"Anne, you know there's a committee review on Thursday," Al said. "I was just getting him caught up."
"I thought he was going to take a vacation...?"
"Well," Sam said. "You might say I just got back from a vacation."
"Hmmph. Some vacation." Anne rubbed her chin. "Sam, I presume you did your M.D. internship like the rest of us..."
Sam looked at her, puzzled. "Of course."
"...Did you ever have these kind of reactions when you pulled 36 hour shifts?"
Sam sat back. "No. Never."
"Doesn't that worry you?" She didn't wait for an answer. "I'd like to do more tests. Maybe we missed something." The two looked at each other, then looked at her, stricken. "I don't have time for more tests," Sam protested. "We have to keep the funding going for the project. I want to get that retrieval problem figured out." He stared at the terminal ruefully. "I have a personal interest in that."
"'Once more -- into the breach', huh?" She chewed her lip. "Well --at least let me take your blood pressure and so forth."
Al smiled. "That's good. That's good. We can live with that. Get your stuff and you can do it right here."
"Here." She looked around. Sam's ordinarily immaculate office was a mess of papers and briefs.
Al saw her look around. "Oh, it usually looks that way when he's here."
She shrugged. "I'll get my stuff."
When she got back, they were still immersed in the computer screen. "I have to admit that I don't get out of the Infirmary much. Is that Ziggy?" she asked.
"No," Sam said. "I can access Ziggy from here, but this terminal is a standalone. Ziggy is too valuable to do my word processing."
Al screwed up his face. "He'd probably make nasty remarks about your writing."
"No, he'd probably sulk because he had to do something so simple."
"You know," Anne said, fitting the cuff around Sam's arm. "You two act as if Ziggy were alive."
"Well, he is...sort of," Al said. "At any rate, he certainly has his moods." Al perked up. "Hey, Sam. Maybe Ziggy's a she. He sounds like one." Anne punched him in the arm. "Well, it was just a thought."
Anne ignored him, listening through the stethoscope a moment. "Up a bit," she noted to herself, then looked at the terminal. "I hate to have a machine second-guess me...but have either of you two geniuses thought of asking him what might be wrong with Sam?"
"No..." Sam said slowly, not wanting to ask the next question. "What are you driving at?"
"You still have some memory loss, don't you? Wasn't that supposed to disappear when you came back?" She sighed and took the cuff off of his arm. "Look... I don't like what I'm thinking any more than you're going to like it. But, since I don't know you that well, I may be the most objective person on the Project right now." She pointed at the terminal. "Access Ziggy. I may be wrong."
Sam sat back. "I think I know what she's driving at."
Al stared at Sam, stricken. "Well... we'll just have to see what Ziggy thinks. But he's not always right, you know."
Sam clattered at the keyboard.
"Never did understand why you never use the microphone." Al pointed at the unused headset lying to the side of the computer.

"Force of habit, I guess," Sam said absentmindedly. "Typing was always easier for me." He looked at the keyboard then looked to the ceiling. Al looked at the screen and snorted.
"What?" Anne said.
"Ziggy sulking because nobody's talked to him," Sam said.
Al picked up the microphone. "I'll talk to you with a balpeen hammer if you don't answer Sam's question."
Sam smiled. "That did it." His smile faded, and he pursed his lips, disappointed. Then he looked up at Anne. "You're right. Ziggy thinks that this is just another Leap, too."
Al slammed his fist down on the desk, then got up to look out the window, his hands tight behind his back. "Ziggy can't be right. He must have a slipped disk," he said, not very convincingly.
"The symptoms all seemed to be there," Anne said slowly.
"He says that I seem to be a fraction of a second in my
own past."
"Huh?" Al turned around, puzzled. "That's ridiculous. How could you do that? Wouldn't there be something in the Waiting Room? And how are you able to talk to the rest of us, if you're a second behind us?"
Sam felt a bit dizzy. "He says that would explain the dizzy spells. My brain is going on overload, trying to interface with the present." He sighed. "Eventually, my brain could just shut down."
"What a nice thought, Sam!" He looked at the screen. "What does that hyperactive bread box think you're here to do?"
Sam looked up. "Even I can guess that. I'm here to convince the Committee to continue the project."
Al didn't look very happy. "That makes sense -- I guess."
Sam looked at the terminal. "I was right. That's what he thinks." He looked again, then snorted wryly. "He also said that I'm supposed to keep you..." he looked at Anne, "...from quitting."
Anne's mouth dropped open. "What... how...?"
Al looked at her, surprised. "Were you...?"
Anne blushed. "Well, yes. I was getting a bit stressed
by the people from the Waiting Room, if you know what I mean. I even discussed it with a couple of people. But how...?"
Al glared at the machine. "Sometimes Ziggy is just like the town gossip, hiding under a window." He pointed at the microphone. "He's probably listening right now."
Sam felt embarrassed. "Well, that is what he's designed to do."
"Listen in to private conversations?!" Al said. "Sneak into private files?"
"Well... yes. He's designed to gather, correlate, and categorize information, then make conclusions based on that information." He smiled. "Which is why he's sometimes wrong, because humans can't always be analyzed." He looked at Al. "You know that. You helped me with him."
"Yeah... but I didn't know how nosy he was going to be."
"Well," Anne said, blushing. "I was thinking about it... ok? The pay's rotten, you know."
Sam looked apologetic. "Government work usually is."
"But since I've met you, I'm not as convinced about quitting as I was three days ago."
"That old Beckett charm," Al crowed.
"Drop dead, Uncle Al."
"You know she didn't mean it that way," Sam chided. "Do you have to embarrass her?"
"It's fun. I like to embarrass my friends. Leave me my little enjoyments, ok?" Al looked a little petulant, then smiled.
Sam sat back. "Well, it's either get the funding and Leap, or stay here and die." He felt a band around his head, and he closed his eyes.
"Are there any other choices?" Al said hopefully, but his face betrayed him.
Sam looked up at him ruefully. "Well, let's review some more. Thanks, Anne." He looked at her a little sheepishly. "You can stay, if you want."
Anne got up. "No. I'll come back later. Looking at that stuff, I'd probably fall asleep on you." "I'd like that."
"What?" Anne grinned. "Me falling asleep?"
Sam smiled at her. "You know what I mean." He looked at Al. "Are you sure you two aren't related?"
"Insults," Anne snorted. "Well, see you later."
"See you," Sam grinned. The two turned to the screen, concentrating, Sam trying not to think of his disappointment.
Anne slipped out of the room, looking back at them sympathetically.

She came back in a few hours later, carrying a tray. Al looked at it, blankly, then smiled. Sam was absorbed by the computer screen.
"Official prescription," Anne said. She handed Al a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then pointedly stared at Sam.
Al waved a sandwich under his nose. "That should bring him out of it."
"...huh?" Sam said, then looked up at Anne. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't see you come in... when did you come in?"
"We got through with the briefing a couple of hours ago and got into the retrieval problem," Al said apologetically. "How long was he...?" Anne jerked her head towards the screen.
"Oh, about a half an hour."
"Sorry. I was concentrating and lost track of time." Sam winced at his choice of words, then swayed a bit.
Anne noted his discomfort, but decided to ignore it. "Any progress?" Sam slumped. "I can't even remember how I figured the equations in the first place."
"Which I say proves old transistor brain's point," Al said, glaring at the microphone. "You weren't sent here to figure out the retrieval problem. You're here to get the project refinanced."
"I suppose."
Al got up. "And you need a break. Here." He handed Sam the slightly squashed sandwich he was holding, grabbed another off the plate, then looked at Anne. "I need a break, too. I'll be down in the... bathroom."
"With your peanut butter and jelly sandwich."
"With my sandwich... oh, yeah." He looked at it. "I'll eat it before I get there." He disappeared out the door.
"He just wants to leave the two of us alone," Anne said, twisting up her mouth.
"Yeah." Sam laughed. "Do you object to that?"
"Not as a general principle," she smiled. "His methods are just a little crude."
"The thing is," Sam frowned. "He's a bit misguided. I can't get involved with anybody if I'm going to Leap out again." He suddenly noticed he was hungry, and took a bite of the sandwich. "It wouldn't be fair."
Anne frowned. "That didn't stop you before."
Sam winced. "You've been reviewing my Leaps."
"I had the clearance," Anne said. "Besides... I got half the story from some of the Leapees, so it helped when I knew all that was going on."
"Oh." Sam looked directly at Anne. "The thing is, I would like to get to know you better. I'd like to take you to dinner, as a matter of fact. But I can't guarantee when I'm going to be back after I Leap next."
Anne shrugged. "So?" She grabbed another sandwich and took a bite. "Consider this a dinner date. Take a break and let's make small talk." She looked at the computer, then at the microphone. "Although... would you mind? I don't think we want a third wheel?"
Sam picked up the microphone. "Sorry, Ziggy. Personal." He unplugged the cord, tapped at the keyboard, then turned off the computer. "We're alone now."
Anne reached behind her, closed the door, and sat in Al's vacated chair. "Great."

Al shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Sam, are you feeling up to this? You look like hell."
Sam grabbed the edge of the table to keep the Council room from twirling around. "I'm fine," he said. "Don't worry about me. Worry about them." He looked up at the podium and watched the Committee members file in.
"Stubborn, isn't he?" Anne commented to Al around Sam. "Did you take your motion sickness pill?" Sam remained silent. "I see."
"I wanted to be alert," Sam protested.
"This is alert?" "Well... I'm regretting my decision." The committee members were talking among themselves and staring down at him. "But it's too late now. Ready to testify about my medical condition?"
She looked at him steadily. "If you get any whiter, any dunce would know what your medical condition is."
"Well, at least I grabbed a bag out of the airplane," Al said helpfully, looking worried. "But I don't think barfing in front of the Committee will help our position any."
Sam snorted, and Al looked a little less worried. "I'm not sure they'd notice."
"Senator MacBride would."
She was just coming in. Sam looked at her, almost not recognizing her. Then he remembered how "long" it had been, and he smiled at her. "Oh, yeah. That's right." He remembered the Leap where he had to pose as the Senator's husband. "She's sweet."
Anne elbowed him. "She's also at least twenty years older than you are. I reviewed that Leap, too. Don't get any ideas."
Sam smiled at her. "I'm not."
Al chortled. "Jealous?"
"Uncle Al!" Anne looked disgusted.
"If you're not jealous, then why..."
"Hush down... both of you!" Sam whispered sharply, holding on to the edge of the table. "This is not the time."
To his surprise, they both blushed. "Sorry." Al looked around the room. "I hate this place. reminds me of a prison." He pointed at the tall windows. The glass was set in iron in a star pattern. "See?"
"Sort of a mixed-up colonial prison," Sam said, grinning slightly. He knew Al was trying to distract him.
"With the judges all in a row up on the stand," Al groused. "Why can't they be level with the rest of us?"
Sam looked up. "It's all psychological. Children, because of their height, have no choice but to look up at their parents and other authority figures. We just carry it over into adulthood, that's all. That's why bosses stand over their workers. That's why judges..." He looked pointedly at the podium in front of him. "...and senators place themselves above everybody else. 'In parentis locis.'"
"Go back a little farther, when man was a herd animal for a variety of carnivores. Something bigger was always a threat to Joe Caveman. But it's as good a theory as any," Al pondered. He stuck a finger in Sam's face. "What would happen if the children were born taller than their parents?"
Sam laughed. "For one thing, that's impossible. Believe me, I know -- first hand. And for another, we'd be putting our authority figures in a hole. Sounds like a good science fiction story."
Anne was looking at them. "Do you guys always ponder the meaning of life in front of a Senatorial review?"
Al winked at her. "Why not?"
"It got my mind off my stomach." Sam paled. "And I just got my mind back on it. Damn."
Al silently handed him the bag he took from the airplane. Sam glared at him. "I didn't say you had to use it."
The last senator came in and sat down. Senator MacBride noted the fact, and gave him a stern look. The man shrugged and whispered, "Call of nature." Sam caught the whisper and grinned.
"Remember," Sam said. "Not a word of the purpose of this Leap."
Al shrugged. "Mum's the word."
"Of course, Sam."
Senator MacBride looked at some papers in front of her, then looked up. "The meeting is now in session. The purpose is to review the continued funding for Project Quantum Leap."
She looked down at Sam. "However, Admiral Calavicci, it was my understanding that you had not been able to retrieve Dr. Beckett, and I'm afraid I have not had enough time to review your latest papers. Is this one of your famous stunts, or were you truly able to retrieve Dr. Beckett?"
"No..." Al started.
"...and yes," Sam continued. "I am Dr. Beckett; but no, the project did not retrieve me. If you will review page four in the latest report..."
The senators looked at page four. "Am I to understand," Senator MacBride said with a puzzled look, "that you 'Leapt', as you call it, into your own life?"
"It appears that way," Sam said with a shrug, then regretted the action. It made him dizzy. Then again, any movement seemed to make him dizzy.
One of the other senators looked up. "I see reams of information on your medical condition, most of which I do not understand, not being medically trained. It seems to say you are in two places in one time."
"He is," Anne spoke up. "This dichotomy will burn his mind up in a matter of days if something is not done."
"You are the author of this report?" Senator MacBride said.
"Dr. Anne McPherson," Al said. "She was with Dr. Beckett when he leapt in."
"How did you know about the condition?"
"The ZGE hybrid computer suggested the idea first," Al said. "Dr. McPherson followed up on the suggestion with independent instruments."
"Also," Anne said with a blush, not looking at Sam. "In the past day, there's been a flickering of someone in the Waiting Room."
"Someone," Senator MacBride said.
"Dr. Beckett. Lying on the observation table. With his eyes open. The image looks more like a ghost than anything." Al and Sam were staring at her. "I didn't want to worry you." She chewed her lip.
"Thanks. I guess," Al muttered. Sam looked thoughtful. "So that's why..." He closed his mouth. The other two looked at him.
"I noticed you didn't seem well, Dr. Beckett," Senator MacBride said. "Our schedule is flexible. Do you need..."
"No!" Al and Sam burst out. Al looked at Sam and sat back. "No," Sam continued. He looked up at Senator MacBride and saw the Diane that he knew. "No. Part of my... task, if you will, here is to convince you to continue Project Quantum Leap."
"That tears it," Al muttered. "Shoulda known he'd break his own rule."
"Oh," Senator MacBride said. She looked unconvinced.
One of the other Senators -- an older man with jet-gray hair -- pounded his fist on the table. "This is ludicrous! C'mon, Dr. Beckett, do you really expect us to believe this?"
Sam looked steadily at him. "It's the truth."
"Perhaps," the man said slowly, staring at him. "The truth as you see it." He sat back. "A very convenient truth."
"Senator..." Sam started, then realized abruptly that he didn't know the man's name. He continued on anyway. "In the past, I have always told the unadorned truth. I can see no reason to stop now." He sighed. "In spite of what the circumstances look like."
"I must admit," Senator MacBride smiled ruefully, "the circumstances are a mite odd."
Sam looked at her closely, then decided not to tell her about the mole in the middle of her lower back. But maybe he could jog her memory... "Senator MacBride, you and I have never met before, right?"
She looked at him oddly. "Not until these hearings started."
"Right." Sam smiled. "Are you sure? I seem to remember meeting you on a train to Niagara Falls many years ago."
"Niagara Falls?" she mused. "The last time I was at Niagara Falls was on my honeymoon... oh!" She looked at him, eyes wide. "That would explain..."
"...a memory loss of a certain party. Am I right?"
She sat back, dumfounded. "And I thought he was playing around when he said that name. But you tried to tell the truth, didn't you?"
He looked away. "I could never figure out why I tried to tell you. I thought maybe I panicked. Now I know."
She was still musing. "So that's why nothing happened until after we got there. That's why he was so insistent that I study the law books." She blushed, then she grinned. "It seems I have you to thank. But what did you..."
Sam sighed. "Well, for one thing, I saved your life."
Al looked at her. "When Sam and I started these hearings, Senator Brown was in charge."
"Senator Brown? That old cynic? But I defeated him... oh." "Yes."
"You know," the other woman interrupted. "You are leaving us terribly confused."
Diane MacBride blushed. "It seems that we met before -- when he was on one of his Leaps."
The older senator looked unconvinced. "Perhaps so...but I would still like some concrete evidence."
"Without going into detail, John," Senator MacBride said. "This is concrete enough for me."
"Still..."
Sam grinned ruefully at him. "That's our problem. We can't time our Leaps conveniently. If I could..."
"I would like to see it."
"And I would like to oblige. But..." Sam looked at Anne, then at Al, startled. "Uh-oh."
Al stood up. "What do you mean, uh-oh!" He stuck his finger in Sam's face. "Don't you dare. Not now!"
"It seems the Senator..." He faded out in a flash of light...
"...is going to get his wish." He finished, involuntarily, from across the table. He looked down at Al, startled, then glanced at Anne, then at himself... his image, he corrected himself. He started laughing. He grinned at Senator MacBride, sitting astonished, two seats down. Controlling himself with an effort, he glanced down at the image of Sam Beckett. "Concrete enough for you, Senator?"
The man fainted. Anne gasped and started working on him.
"You don't mean to say..." Senator MacBride started.
"I'm Dr. Beckett."
"I thought you said..." one of the other Senators said with a grin.
"I can't control it." He looked upwards. "It seems the Controller has a sense of humor."
"Sam, you sly dog," Al said. He then looked at him closely. "How are you feeling?"
Sam examined himself. "Never better. I'm not dizzy anymore."
"Well," Al said with a sigh. "That's one piece of good news."
The Senator was coming around. "Sam," Anne said. "Perhaps you better get out of sight."
"No," the Senator said, opening his eyes. "I'm fine." He stood up, rubbed his forehead, then looked up at Sam, who found it disconcerting to be glared at by himself. "Are you certain you didn't engineer this?"
"Senator," Sam said with a sigh. "If I could control the leaps, I would've shown you the experiment long before this." He smiled ruefully. "And I wouldn't have done it in quite as dramatic a fashion."
"John," Senator MacBride said. "I consider myself a good judge of human character." She shook her head. "I don't believe they were acting."
The Senator sat down and shook his head. "It seems I have no objections anymore." He looked up. "I know when I'm tilting against windmills."
Senator MacBride looked to either side. They all shrugged and shook their heads. She smiled. "You have your funding for another year. Congratulations." She got up, then moved to Sam's side. "And thank you," Diane whispered into his ear.
"Thank you!" Sam mouthed back.
"Well," the Senator said ruefully. "When do we switch again?"
Sam sighed. "I wish I knew. Can you come to New Mexico? I think we're going to have to put you into the Waiting Room until we do."
The Senator laughed. "Do I have a choice?"

"So," the Senator said. He was standing uncomfortably in the blue Waiting Room wearing the Leap suit. "I'm here. When does it happen?" He sounded tense, and Anne patted his shoulder reassuringly.
From the doorway, Sam looked at Al, who nodded, his eyes moist. Sam gripped his arms for a second, then let him go. "I'll see you soon," Sam said. He looked at the rest of the crowd around him. "That goes for all of you."
"Yeah," Al said. He didn't look happy. "Well, you can't go around looking like a senator. Go ahead and ask her."
After a final wave, he stepped in the Waiting Room and closed the door. "Anne."
She looked up, her eyes bright.
"I'm sorry things aren't working out."
"I am, too," she said slowly.
"Will you wait for me?" he said in a rush. "Will you stay?"
She looked surprised at herself. "I had forgotten..." Her voice firmed, and she smiled sadly. "I can't guarantee I'll wait for you -- but I've just decided that I'm not quitting."
"Friends, anyway?"
"Friends."
"That's all I can ask."
"I know."
The Senator looked at the two, frowning. "I feel a little odd. Is that it? Is that the trigger?"
Sam smiled sadly. "That's it, Senator." And the room disappeared in a flash of light.