TITLE: Starkweather: Quanta
AUTHORS: Scully3776 and Spookykat
RATED: R for strong language and explicit content
ARCHIVED: With permission.
KEYWORDS: Crossover, MSR, New Character,
Mulder/Scully/Doggett Friendship, The Lone Gunmen, CSM,
Marita Corruvabias, Mulder/Scully/Skinner Friendship,
Post S8
Spoilers: S8 (Especially Vienen)
Summary: A male version of Scully invented a time
machine that allows him to swap souls with Doggett to
change history for the better. The history he needs to
change: The murder in the county jail of the new Deputy
Mayor of Washington DC at the hands of Billy Miles. How
will he do it? With the help of the Gunmen and a guide
from the future only he can see and hear.
DISCLAIMER: Fox, Chris Carter, and 1013 productions, if
you wish to see your creations, Agent Dana Scully,
Deputy Mayor Fox Mulder, Monica Reyes, and John Doggett,
Luke John Doggett, Melvin Frohike, Langly, John Byers,
AD Walter Skinner, CBG Spender, Marita Corruvabias,
Deputy Director Alvin Kersh, Billy Miles and your
brainchild "The X-Files" again, I suggest you pay close
attention. Scully3776 and her creations Admiral Jeremy
Bailey, Mayor Thomas Swanson, Jerilyn Bailey
Starkweather and Ben Starkweather, Senator Lynn Bailey,
J. Stephen Cello III, and various as sundry minor
characters with Spookykat's creations, Davis Justin Leo,
Ana Sedai, Peter Sedai, Lilly Stratford, Manuel Ibarra
will descend upon 1013 productions in Los Angeles with
NBC, Belesarius, and Donald P. Belesarius' characters,
Dr. Sam Becket and Al Calivici. A hostile overthrow of
sporks and flamethrowers will ensue if incompliant to
our demandsâ€"don't worry, they are simple and few.
1) Accommodations in Apt. 42 (Lord knows you won't be
needing that anymore sniff! We've even worked out
sleeping arrangements.)
2) Season-long writing contracts with 1013.
3) A weekly stipend sufficient for groceries, gas,
transportation, and long distance service.
4)Both authors supplied with autographed copies of all
the DVD's as they become available on the market
You have been warned.
Prologue:
***********
While theorizing that one could time travel in his own
lifetime, Dr. Sam Becket stepped into the Quantum Leap
accellorator, and vanished. He awoke to find himself leaping
from life to life, putting right what once went wrong.
His only guide on this journey is Al, a hologram
from the future that only Sam can see and
hear, and leaps from life to life, striving to put right what
once went wrong hoping that each time his next leap will be the
leap home.
*************************************************
June 24, 2011; 7:34 AM
Roswell NM, Area51
Project Quantum Leap Headquarters
************************************
John Doggett felt like he had just gotten over a very
severe case of vertigo.
He leapt up from the glass table that he hadn't realized
till now that he was lying on, not even taking notice of
the white spandex he was donning from head to toe that was
a far cry from his understated jacket-and-tie FBI attire.
"Luke!" The little boy he lost, unfortunately was one of
the few things his Swiss-Cheezed memory could remember.
"Anybody here!" He shouted in the half Brooklyn/half
Southern accent that had been perfected over the years with
the NYPD.
Upon not getting any response he studied his surroundings
the way his finely tuned detective's instincts taught him
to. Looking around, he saw that he was in a spacious room
with undecorated stark walls, furnished with nothing more
than a couch, a desk, and an observation table. From the
sparce furnishings,Doggett was doubtless that this place
was a government-funded facility. Slowly, his memory was
returning to him. He was an FBI Agent in the x-files
division for a little more than a year now. He raked his
hand through his hair, and was alarmed not to find his own
thin curls, but straight hairâ€"hair that seemed to be longer
than his usual length. "What kinda party trick is this?"
He mumbled, then looked to the wall opposite a door, and
jumped at the reflection that wasn't his own. "Some kind
of hypnotic suggestion could enduce this." He explained.
"Some kind of hallucinogenic drug, maybe. Whatever the
fuck it is, helluva party trick." The only person he knew
who could rig up this sorta set-up...
"Muldah! Come on now!" Doggett shouted. "I gotta get back!
When she finds out about the case, the shit's gonna hit the fan!"
He yelled, and started to head for the only visible door
next to the observation window.
Just then, a short, dark-eyed man with a slight build,
dark, coily hair that was graying at the temples entered
the room, and blocked his way. Doggett had no idea who the
man was, but from the expression on the man's face, the man
obviously knew him.
"Who are you? What the hell kinda stunt are you trying to
pull? Did Mulder put you up to this?" Doggett demanded as
if it was one fell question. "Yes, I know it was Mulder."
Doggett answered the man's surprised reaction, "he's the only
one who would find out where to get a full-body condom costume."
"Take it easy" Under his breath, the man mumbled "I shudda
started a project pool on that question." Despite the man's
garish ensemble--this one a glittering silver jacket and
pants underneath a cranberry red top with a thin black tie
and silver matching shoes--the man's demeanor and steady
gaze bespoke authority and seriousness.
"Sir, if you don't mind sayin'," Doggett was one of those
rare people who had a forcefull drawl, "I'd like to know
what's going on. Am I a prisoner here?"
"No, you're not a prisoner." The man replied frankly.
"Then give me my clothes and I'll be on my way. I have
business to attend to." Doggett demanded, now visibly
agitated.
"So do we. Can you tell us your name?" The man persisted.
"John Doggett. Can I go now?" Doggett huffed.
"I wouldn't leave this room if I were you, Mr. Doggett."
"Why the hell not?"
"It's not what you think out there."
"What's not what I think out there?" Doggett fumed, "Look,
could you please get to the point, because I've got things
to take care of."
"What case were you referring to, Mr. Doggett?"
"That information's classified, sir, leaked only on a need-
to-know basis."
"You are not helping your own situation at all by not
trusting me, Mr. Doggett. I think you'll agree with me that
we need to know. Now," the man restarted, "what sort of
things do you need taken care of?"
The man walked over to the desk and authoritatively sat
down behind it, casually perusing the manila folder he came
in with. He took an obstinate puff of the cigar he was
carrying in his other hand and directed Doggett to the
chair in front of the desk.
"What is my own situation?" Doggett reverberated.
"You tell us, Mr. Doggett."
May 22, 2001
Newberry, SC; County Morgue
******************************
The Leaper heard shots ring out from his host's gun, and
subsequently heard a resounding thud.
Then a dazzling blue light surrounded him.
Oblivion overtook consciousness for what seemed like a
few seconds. Time, to Leaper Dr. Sam Becket lately was
quickly becoming a moot point. He didn't know if the
duration of the oblivion was really a few seconds or if
it was years sped up into a few seconds...or what the
case was.
However long the unawareness lasted, he next found
himself in the form of whomever soul he had changed
places with--leapt into--immediately yanked into the
life he was supposed to change within the next few days.
It was a small relief to him that, while he couldn't
remember much of anything before he stepped into an
accelerator, he could remember the leaps--the lives he
had lived, and changed for the better. He could at least
vicariously pretend he had some sort of past. As hard as
he tried not to, it always embittered Sam a little that
he never got to see his work finished. It made the
physicist wish sometimes that he could have a life of
his own, just once.
But leaps like his most recent, into Special Agent Dana
Scully, made all his work and grief worth it. He was
part of something greater than himself. He wanted to
help her and her partner Fox Mulder with their work, but
he knew he had his own job. By Whateveritwas's design,
he was pinballed into the next existence, usually never
to see the work he had done.
After the leap was over, Sam, as usual, was gone without
either a momento or a trace of the lives he effected,
and only in two cases had he actually seen his work
after he leapt, primarily because most people only have
one defining moment that effects their lives forever.
Fox Mulder, he would be reminding himself later, was not
most people.
The disorientation and feeling of lostness and ambiguity
was something he still hadn't gotten used to...no matter
how often he leapt, which was generally in bizarre
situations--if they weren't bizarre situations, they
usually evolved into bizarre situations. Or at least
situations that seemed bizarre to Sam. To the person
whose life he had swapped souls with, the situation
probably wasn't that bizarre.
Sam felt as though he had constant vertigo. It was a
small miracle that he hadn't completely destroyed a life
from the first moment of the leap yet.
This time, after the oblivion faded, and the circle of
bright blue light subsided, and he got his bearings, Sam
found himself in a strangely familiar hallway. He had
been there before, but he couldn't quite place where he
was. It was almost a since of dejavu, but not quite. The
dimly lit hallway wasn't alien to him. He felt as though
he needed no assistance in figuring out which office was
his, but he didn't know why.
In his confusion, lost in musings, he hadn't noticed a
girl limping toward him with a hand bound in a cast. He
was fishing out his keys when she stopped at a door,
obviously waiting for something.
He looked at the paper he was holding, and nearly
spilled the coffee he was holding. It was the Washington
Post sports section, and the date said June 16, 2001. He
knew when he was, and where he was. Well...at least the
region. The girl was still waiting at the door. She
looked at him, and Sam, in his distraction, hadn't realized
that she obviously knew who he was.
"Oh! I'm sorry, Miss..." Sam read her nametag.
"Starkweather"
He said, immediately embarrassed. She wore an FBI tag
bearing the name "Jerilyn Starkweather." He couldn't
quite place it, but there was something familiar in her
hazel eyes.
"You ok, Papa? Did you forget your keys this morning?"
"Uh...yeah...I...uh...must have." He dug around in his
pocket. "Oh, wait, here we go. I feel like an idiot
now." Not far from the bottom of the stack of keys was
the number that matched the office door. He opened it,
and followed the young woman in.
He looked around the office he just entered, and
followed her unconscious cues that told Sam that he
belonged there, too. One look at the office
told him immediately where he was. He knew exactly whose
desk the one in the back belonged to. Piled high with
files and an open packet of sunflower seeds with
the "I Want to Believe" poster and about 22 pencils on
the ceiling.
I must have leapt into Mulder was Sam's first thought.
Part of him was glad to be in familiar territory, the
other part wondered what had happened to Mulder to need
altering. He walked behind the desk, put the paper down,
half-expecting Scully to come through the door at any
minute
The young woman was eyeing him quizzically, eyes
averting from him to the desk next to his.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"I'm...uh...sitting at my desk. What do you think?"
"That's...not your desk."
She averted her eyes to the desk next to the one he had
put the paper down on.
"I--uh--forgot, is all."
"Forgot? Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm--uh...just a bit tired, is all." He glanced
at her awkwardly, wondering what was going on, and
cautiously moved over to the next desk, which was
meticulously neat decorated only with a picture of a
little boy with blond hair and striking blue eyes on it.
At that moment, he noticed a familiar petite redhead
open the door.
"The results came back from the lab, definitely from the
same species. Same properties, everything."
He forgot at that split second that he was supposed to
be pretending to be someone else, and rushed up to give
her a warm greeting. It was really nice not having to
guess at people's identities.
Over Doggett's shoulder, Scully exchanged confused
glances with Starkweather. Starkweather circled around
her ear, and busied herself
with work.
"What was that for, Agent Doggett?"....
"What was that for, Agent Doggett? You ok?"
Doggett?! Who's Doggett?! Where's Mulder?!
"Yeah, I'm fine." He tried to stifle a chuckle when he
remembered how that was Scully's choice phrase in those
sort of situations.
"Anyway, I just got the lab results back. Looks like
it's the same species that was in South Carolina is the
same species on the oil rig, and the same species from
Scotland. Too bad the evidence is inadmissible."
"Evidence?"
"...of alien colonization?" Scully answered in question.
"You ok Doggett?" Starkweather was saying, looking
obviously irritated. "I'd expect this from the Deputy
Mayor, but not you."
"Alien colonization..." He mumbled, then again under his
breath, "Oh boy!"
AUTHORS: Scully3776 and Spookykat
RATED: R for strong language and explicit content
ARCHIVED: With permission.
KEYWORDS: Crossover, MSR, New Character,
Mulder/Scully/Doggett Friendship, The Lone Gunmen, CSM,
Marita Corruvabias, Mulder/Scully/Skinner Friendship,
Post S8
Spoilers: S8 (Especially Vienen)
Summary: A male version of Scully invented a time
machine that allows him to swap souls with Doggett to
change history for the better. The history he needs to
change: The murder in the county jail of the new Deputy
Mayor of Washington DC at the hands of Billy Miles. How
will he do it? With the help of the Gunmen and a guide
from the future only he can see and hear.
DISCLAIMER: Fox, Chris Carter, and 1013 productions, if
you wish to see your creations, Agent Dana Scully,
Deputy Mayor Fox Mulder, Monica Reyes, and John Doggett,
Luke John Doggett, Melvin Frohike, Langly, John Byers,
AD Walter Skinner, CBG Spender, Marita Corruvabias,
Deputy Director Alvin Kersh, Billy Miles and your
brainchild "The X-Files" again, I suggest you pay close
attention. Scully3776 and her creations Admiral Jeremy
Bailey, Mayor Thomas Swanson, Jerilyn Bailey
Starkweather and Ben Starkweather, Senator Lynn Bailey,
J. Stephen Cello III, and various as sundry minor
characters with Spookykat's creations, Davis Justin Leo,
Ana Sedai, Peter Sedai, Lilly Stratford, Manuel Ibarra
will descend upon 1013 productions in Los Angeles with
NBC, Belesarius, and Donald P. Belesarius' characters,
Dr. Sam Becket and Al Calivici. A hostile overthrow of
sporks and flamethrowers will ensue if incompliant to
our demandsâ€"don't worry, they are simple and few.
1) Accommodations in Apt. 42 (Lord knows you won't be
needing that anymore sniff! We've even worked out
sleeping arrangements.)
2) Season-long writing contracts with 1013.
3) A weekly stipend sufficient for groceries, gas,
transportation, and long distance service.
4)Both authors supplied with autographed copies of all
the DVD's as they become available on the market
You have been warned.
Prologue:
***********
While theorizing that one could time travel in his own
lifetime, Dr. Sam Becket stepped into the Quantum Leap
accellorator, and vanished. He awoke to find himself leaping
from life to life, putting right what once went wrong.
His only guide on this journey is Al, a hologram
from the future that only Sam can see and
hear, and leaps from life to life, striving to put right what
once went wrong hoping that each time his next leap will be the
leap home.
*************************************************
June 24, 2011; 7:34 AM
Roswell NM, Area51
Project Quantum Leap Headquarters
************************************
John Doggett felt like he had just gotten over a very
severe case of vertigo.
He leapt up from the glass table that he hadn't realized
till now that he was lying on, not even taking notice of
the white spandex he was donning from head to toe that was
a far cry from his understated jacket-and-tie FBI attire.
"Luke!" The little boy he lost, unfortunately was one of
the few things his Swiss-Cheezed memory could remember.
"Anybody here!" He shouted in the half Brooklyn/half
Southern accent that had been perfected over the years with
the NYPD.
Upon not getting any response he studied his surroundings
the way his finely tuned detective's instincts taught him
to. Looking around, he saw that he was in a spacious room
with undecorated stark walls, furnished with nothing more
than a couch, a desk, and an observation table. From the
sparce furnishings,Doggett was doubtless that this place
was a government-funded facility. Slowly, his memory was
returning to him. He was an FBI Agent in the x-files
division for a little more than a year now. He raked his
hand through his hair, and was alarmed not to find his own
thin curls, but straight hairâ€"hair that seemed to be longer
than his usual length. "What kinda party trick is this?"
He mumbled, then looked to the wall opposite a door, and
jumped at the reflection that wasn't his own. "Some kind
of hypnotic suggestion could enduce this." He explained.
"Some kind of hallucinogenic drug, maybe. Whatever the
fuck it is, helluva party trick." The only person he knew
who could rig up this sorta set-up...
"Muldah! Come on now!" Doggett shouted. "I gotta get back!
When she finds out about the case, the shit's gonna hit the fan!"
He yelled, and started to head for the only visible door
next to the observation window.
Just then, a short, dark-eyed man with a slight build,
dark, coily hair that was graying at the temples entered
the room, and blocked his way. Doggett had no idea who the
man was, but from the expression on the man's face, the man
obviously knew him.
"Who are you? What the hell kinda stunt are you trying to
pull? Did Mulder put you up to this?" Doggett demanded as
if it was one fell question. "Yes, I know it was Mulder."
Doggett answered the man's surprised reaction, "he's the only
one who would find out where to get a full-body condom costume."
"Take it easy" Under his breath, the man mumbled "I shudda
started a project pool on that question." Despite the man's
garish ensemble--this one a glittering silver jacket and
pants underneath a cranberry red top with a thin black tie
and silver matching shoes--the man's demeanor and steady
gaze bespoke authority and seriousness.
"Sir, if you don't mind sayin'," Doggett was one of those
rare people who had a forcefull drawl, "I'd like to know
what's going on. Am I a prisoner here?"
"No, you're not a prisoner." The man replied frankly.
"Then give me my clothes and I'll be on my way. I have
business to attend to." Doggett demanded, now visibly
agitated.
"So do we. Can you tell us your name?" The man persisted.
"John Doggett. Can I go now?" Doggett huffed.
"I wouldn't leave this room if I were you, Mr. Doggett."
"Why the hell not?"
"It's not what you think out there."
"What's not what I think out there?" Doggett fumed, "Look,
could you please get to the point, because I've got things
to take care of."
"What case were you referring to, Mr. Doggett?"
"That information's classified, sir, leaked only on a need-
to-know basis."
"You are not helping your own situation at all by not
trusting me, Mr. Doggett. I think you'll agree with me that
we need to know. Now," the man restarted, "what sort of
things do you need taken care of?"
The man walked over to the desk and authoritatively sat
down behind it, casually perusing the manila folder he came
in with. He took an obstinate puff of the cigar he was
carrying in his other hand and directed Doggett to the
chair in front of the desk.
"What is my own situation?" Doggett reverberated.
"You tell us, Mr. Doggett."
May 22, 2001
Newberry, SC; County Morgue
******************************
The Leaper heard shots ring out from his host's gun, and
subsequently heard a resounding thud.
Then a dazzling blue light surrounded him.
Oblivion overtook consciousness for what seemed like a
few seconds. Time, to Leaper Dr. Sam Becket lately was
quickly becoming a moot point. He didn't know if the
duration of the oblivion was really a few seconds or if
it was years sped up into a few seconds...or what the
case was.
However long the unawareness lasted, he next found
himself in the form of whomever soul he had changed
places with--leapt into--immediately yanked into the
life he was supposed to change within the next few days.
It was a small relief to him that, while he couldn't
remember much of anything before he stepped into an
accelerator, he could remember the leaps--the lives he
had lived, and changed for the better. He could at least
vicariously pretend he had some sort of past. As hard as
he tried not to, it always embittered Sam a little that
he never got to see his work finished. It made the
physicist wish sometimes that he could have a life of
his own, just once.
But leaps like his most recent, into Special Agent Dana
Scully, made all his work and grief worth it. He was
part of something greater than himself. He wanted to
help her and her partner Fox Mulder with their work, but
he knew he had his own job. By Whateveritwas's design,
he was pinballed into the next existence, usually never
to see the work he had done.
After the leap was over, Sam, as usual, was gone without
either a momento or a trace of the lives he effected,
and only in two cases had he actually seen his work
after he leapt, primarily because most people only have
one defining moment that effects their lives forever.
Fox Mulder, he would be reminding himself later, was not
most people.
The disorientation and feeling of lostness and ambiguity
was something he still hadn't gotten used to...no matter
how often he leapt, which was generally in bizarre
situations--if they weren't bizarre situations, they
usually evolved into bizarre situations. Or at least
situations that seemed bizarre to Sam. To the person
whose life he had swapped souls with, the situation
probably wasn't that bizarre.
Sam felt as though he had constant vertigo. It was a
small miracle that he hadn't completely destroyed a life
from the first moment of the leap yet.
This time, after the oblivion faded, and the circle of
bright blue light subsided, and he got his bearings, Sam
found himself in a strangely familiar hallway. He had
been there before, but he couldn't quite place where he
was. It was almost a since of dejavu, but not quite. The
dimly lit hallway wasn't alien to him. He felt as though
he needed no assistance in figuring out which office was
his, but he didn't know why.
In his confusion, lost in musings, he hadn't noticed a
girl limping toward him with a hand bound in a cast. He
was fishing out his keys when she stopped at a door,
obviously waiting for something.
He looked at the paper he was holding, and nearly
spilled the coffee he was holding. It was the Washington
Post sports section, and the date said June 16, 2001. He
knew when he was, and where he was. Well...at least the
region. The girl was still waiting at the door. She
looked at him, and Sam, in his distraction, hadn't realized
that she obviously knew who he was.
"Oh! I'm sorry, Miss..." Sam read her nametag.
"Starkweather"
He said, immediately embarrassed. She wore an FBI tag
bearing the name "Jerilyn Starkweather." He couldn't
quite place it, but there was something familiar in her
hazel eyes.
"You ok, Papa? Did you forget your keys this morning?"
"Uh...yeah...I...uh...must have." He dug around in his
pocket. "Oh, wait, here we go. I feel like an idiot
now." Not far from the bottom of the stack of keys was
the number that matched the office door. He opened it,
and followed the young woman in.
He looked around the office he just entered, and
followed her unconscious cues that told Sam that he
belonged there, too. One look at the office
told him immediately where he was. He knew exactly whose
desk the one in the back belonged to. Piled high with
files and an open packet of sunflower seeds with
the "I Want to Believe" poster and about 22 pencils on
the ceiling.
I must have leapt into Mulder was Sam's first thought.
Part of him was glad to be in familiar territory, the
other part wondered what had happened to Mulder to need
altering. He walked behind the desk, put the paper down,
half-expecting Scully to come through the door at any
minute
The young woman was eyeing him quizzically, eyes
averting from him to the desk next to his.
"What on earth are you doing?"
"I'm...uh...sitting at my desk. What do you think?"
"That's...not your desk."
She averted her eyes to the desk next to the one he had
put the paper down on.
"I--uh--forgot, is all."
"Forgot? Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I'm--uh...just a bit tired, is all." He glanced
at her awkwardly, wondering what was going on, and
cautiously moved over to the next desk, which was
meticulously neat decorated only with a picture of a
little boy with blond hair and striking blue eyes on it.
At that moment, he noticed a familiar petite redhead
open the door.
"The results came back from the lab, definitely from the
same species. Same properties, everything."
He forgot at that split second that he was supposed to
be pretending to be someone else, and rushed up to give
her a warm greeting. It was really nice not having to
guess at people's identities.
Over Doggett's shoulder, Scully exchanged confused
glances with Starkweather. Starkweather circled around
her ear, and busied herself
with work.
"What was that for, Agent Doggett?"....
"What was that for, Agent Doggett? You ok?"
Doggett?! Who's Doggett?! Where's Mulder?!
"Yeah, I'm fine." He tried to stifle a chuckle when he
remembered how that was Scully's choice phrase in those
sort of situations.
"Anyway, I just got the lab results back. Looks like
it's the same species that was in South Carolina is the
same species on the oil rig, and the same species from
Scotland. Too bad the evidence is inadmissible."
"Evidence?"
"...of alien colonization?" Scully answered in question.
"You ok Doggett?" Starkweather was saying, looking
obviously irritated. "I'd expect this from the Deputy
Mayor, but not you."
"Alien colonization..." He mumbled, then again under his
breath, "Oh boy!"