To Protect and Serve
by Laura Picken
Summary: Crossover with Quantum Leap. Sam leaps into Jim Ellison, and has to learn how to deal with Jim's Sentinel abilities (not to mention having two Guides) before a murderer kills Blair, Simon, and the rest of the Major Crimes Division.
Hi all! At first, I thought this was a weird concept- until you guys started bugging me to finish the story. So many of you have been telling me how much you loved Quantum Leap I'm beginning to wonder why someone else hasn't tried this sooner. (Hint hint? No, Dawn, I'm not making another story suggestion. - This- one's for Sue! *g*) Anyhoo...
Disclaimer: The Sentinel and all related characters belong to Pet Fly Productions and UPN; Sam, Al and all related characters and concepts from Quantum Leap belong to Bellisarius Productions and (I think) at the moment, the SciFi Channel. I'm not making any money off of this, I do it purely for fun, so please don't sue, okay? If you who are TPTB don't like the crossover, let me know and I'll take it down.
Commissioner Diane McPherson, though, is mine. Please don't use her without permission. I'll probably give it if you ask, though! In terms of a frame of reference to my own stories, this story is pre - "Blinded by the Light" but after "Stage Fright".
All who are not TPTB, however, are also more than welcome to e- mail me with constructive criticism, praise, even flames! Go on, I dare ya...
Also, two major warnings: this -is- a death story, but I will tell you that I do - not-, and will not now or ever write a story in which I kill off Jim, Blair, Simon, Joel, Rafe, Brown, or Naomi. Sorry guys, but I don't consider that entertainment. Oh, and I will go back on something that I wrote at the beginning of Blinded by the Light: this is probably the one and only story where I -will- include Forensics chief Cassandra Wells, aka Cassie. Those of you who know me have probably already put two and two together - read on and enjoy... *vbeg* hehehehehehehe... ;-)
Acknowledgements: (There are a lot of them for this one, folks! I had a lot of help.) A hundred thousand thank yous to - Sue- Wells (not to be confused with Cassie), who's been kind enough to beta read this for me and let me borrow all her zines to make sure the QL side of this makes sense.
I cannot thank my beta readers enough on this one - Dana Terry, D.L. Witherspoon, Lya Crichlow, Danae, Beth Hlabse and Vera Barga. (Forgive me, gang, if I left anyone out.) Everyone of them saw something different that could be improved-things I never would have caught. I was scared that with so many betas, there wouldn't be anyone left interested in reading the story, but I've been turning people away! You guys are -so- cool...
Thanks also to Odonata and Elizabeth Grace who are letting me quote their wonderfully scientific discussion about exactly -why- Jim has enhanced senses (along with Songbird who informed me about their little conversation in the first place).
Anyway, on with the show...
The disorienting effect of leaping was nothing new to Dr. Sam Beckett, but the first experiences in this new body, even his Swiss-cheesed memory told him, were like nothing he had ever been through before.
Before he was even able to open his eyes, his ears were assaulted by a deafening cacophony of sounds, ranging from a crying baby that sounded like the child was right next to him, to a bizarre pounding that sounded like it was right above his head.
He wanted to scream, but the rush of cold air that he felt in his throat and his lungs every time he took a breath kept him from uttering a sound. And the smells that were assaulting his nose-from the scrambled eggs and sausage cooking downstairs, to some type of weird herbal combination he couldn't identify-were so strong they were turning his stomach. As he started to toss and turn in the bed, he felt every fiber of the cotton sheets beneath him itch like he was sleeping between sheets of burlap, so he froze where he lay. Even then he was easily able to feel every thread of the sheets above and beneath him and every stitch of the cotton thread that was holding his boxers together.
So what had just happened to him?
As he lay as still as possible, barely breathing, eyes shut tight, all Sam could do was think to himself, "Oh boy!"
[What's with Jim?] thought Blair. He had been downstairs for an hour fixing breakfast, which was rapidly getting cold. Jim had been emphatic about making sure that the younger man had set his alarm clock to get up early for the briefing that the Commissioner had talked to them about late last night. Apparently six or seven police officers had died of mysterious causes within seven hours of each other on Friday night. Since, when the commissioner called, the coroner's report was still pending, she was going to give them the information when they got to her office - which was where they were supposed to be in less than an hour. Yet Blair had not heard so much as a peep out of the Sentinel that morning. Worried that his friend might have taken ill, [or worse, Blair thought in frustration,] Blair climbed the stairs to Jim's bedroom.
He didn't like what he found at all. Jim was laying in his bed, arms at his sides, eyes shut tight and fighting off some sort of very obvious pain. He didn't move an inch from that position, but Blair could see clearly the beads of sweat forming on the older man's forehead. Rushing to his friend's side, he kneeled next to the bed. Gently laying a hand on Jim's arm, he whispered, "Jim? Man, what's going on?"
The whispers of the man next to him cut through the noises assaulting Sam, instinctively calming him while the touch on his arm seemed to lessen the discomfort of the sheets. Moaning slightly, Sam was able to utter one word: "Hurts..."
[Oh man, his senses must have gone haywire during the night! What in the world could have possibly brought this on?] Blair pushed the thoughts of a possible cause aside for the moment as the Guide let his mind focus on how to help his Sentinel through the pain. "All right Jim, just try to relax, man. Take a deep breath through your nose and let it out through your mouth. I know it hurts, man, but just try to do this for me, okay? Picture your hearing dial. Turn it down until you can only hear the sound of my voice..."
As the man next to him led him through what seemed to be a familiar routine, Sam complied as best he could- -relaxing as his senses seemed to return to normal. He opened his eyes, blinking at the bright light in the room but otherwise he was able to adjust as usual. Sam turned to face the man who had talked him out of that hell. "Thanks."
Concerned, Blair responded, "Jim, what happened, man? Your senses were totally out of control there. I had to talk you through every one. What's going on? You getting sick or something?"
He thought about the question carefully. Besides the sensory assault, he felt fine. And, as a doctor, he couldn't think of any illnesses where the only symptom was severe hypersensitivity of the senses. Even still, the young man treated his hyperactive senses as normal. It was only the obvious loss of control that was concerning him. Trying to sound calm, cool and collected, he reassured the younger man, "I'm fine. Everything's back to normal."
Blair looked at him with great skepticism. Jim didn't sound fine, and he certainly didn't look fine. He knew, though, that when Jim didn't want to talk about something, he could try prying it out of his friend with a crowbar and it wouldn't work. Cautiously he directed his roommate, "Well, you better hurry up and get ready, Jim. We don't want to be late for our meeting with Diane. You know how much she hates it if I'm late. Then again, maybe it would be nice to see you get the flak this time."
Sarcastically, Sam replied, "Ha, ha, very funny," to which the younger man smiled his response.
Blair got up from the side of the bed and headed to the stairwell, declaring, "I'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes, then."
Sam called back, "Right. I'll see you downstairs." He sat up in the bed, swinging his feet over to the floor, trying to convince Jim's exhausted body to get up and get moving. He listened to the sounds of the younger man he knew was downstairs, amazed that he could hear from what seemed to be quite a distance...
Sam shook himself out of whatever self-imposed stupor he had ended up in. It was almost like he had lost himself in the sounds downstairs, forgetting even to breathe. He started to whisper for Al, his holographic companion. Even though he knew the man couldn't hear him, he wished that calling Al would immediately get him to appear, like on that show I Dream of Jeannie he used to watch as a kid. He could really use Al's help right now, because he had no idea who he was, where he was, or what was going on.
Resigning himself to the fact that Al was off doing something else for the moment, he set about finding something, anything that might let him have some clue as to who he was. The evidence was not hard to find: on a table near the bed, he spotted a police badge wallet and a gun. While he hated guns as a general rule, he did know how to use one, so he was safe on that account. He picked up the wallet and inspected it carefully. [Detective James Ellison,] Sam thought, [Why does that name sound familiar?] He pushed those thoughts aside as he looked in the wallet confirming that he was, in fact, Detective James Ellison. Sam's pace quickened when he remembered that, according to the man downstairs, one Detective James Ellison was going to be late for what seemed to be a very important meeting if one Dr. Sam Beckett didn't get a move on. Looking over the clothes in the closet, Sam picked out something that looked like what a detective might have worn to the station, and began getting dressed.
As Sam finished getting dressed, he heard the young man downstairs talking to someone. Wanting to hear what the young man was saying, he strained to listen to the young man's end of conversation:
"I don't know, Commissioner. I'm worried about him. When I found him this morning his senses were on total overload. Now he won't talk to me about it, and I have no idea why it happened."
He heard another voice through a bit of static. What was he hearing? More importantly, -how- was he hearing it?
"And you've had no possible hint that he might be getting sick or anything? He didn't take anything last night that might cause his senses to go haywire?"
"No. Or if he did, he didn't tell me about it."
Sam heard the woman, apparently the city Police Commissioner, sigh loudly. She asked Blair, "Blair, do you think I should assign someone else to this case?"
Sam muttered, "Assign someone else to the case...?" Why did that sound like a bad idea to him?
Sam tried to listen to more of this strange conversation, but he nearly jumped through the roof instead when he heard Al exclaim behind him, "Don't let her do that, Sam! If she assigns someone other than Jim to this case, Ziggy says there's a 99% chance that you and most of the Cascade police force will die mysterious deaths that might never be solved!"
Sam could have sword he heard Jim Ellison's heart skip a few beats. The woman he was hearing was on the other end of a -phone- -call-? Turning to Al, he asked the older man, "Al, how can -you- tell what- Blair?" Al nodded, confirming the name Sam had heard the hologram just use as Sam continued, "How did you know that the commissioner's thinking of assigning someone else to this case?" [For that matter, how did -I- know that?]
Waving the handlink in front of his friend's face, Al simply replied, "Ziggy. Besides, I heard you muttering under your breath. Now get down there before Blair puts down that phone!"
Trying unsuccessfully to set aside the sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, Sam casually bounced down the stairs, trying to act innocent, and declared, "Let's get a move on. Like you said, Blair, we don't want to be late for that meeting."
Blair cupped his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone and asked him, "You sure you're okay, Jim?"
Sam looked at him and calmly replied, "Blair, I'm fine. Let's go."
The look of concern did not leave Blair's face as he returned his attention to the phone. "Commissioner, Jim's just about to push me out the door here, so we'll be there in a few minutes. See you then." He hung up the phone, flashed another look of concern at his partner, then followed the older man's lead as they walked out the door.
Blair continued to eye the man in front of him suspiciously as Jim opened the door, then held it open and let Blair go in front of him. As much as the older man wanted to act like everything was fine, there were too many things that made the anthropologist think that something was up. Things like walking in front of Jim instead of beside him or one step behind. The sensory overload this morning. Not to mention Jim oversleeping. Then, to top it all off, Jim called him by his first name. Twice. [No,] thought the anthropologist, [This doesn't add up.] He decided to keep an extra careful eye on the older man that day. [If Jim won't talk to me about what's going on,] thought Blair, [Maybe I can observe it out of him. After all, that -is- part of what I'm supposed to be doing anyway, isn't it?]
As he walked over to the passenger side of the truck, Blair felt something hit his shoulder. [What the-?] He looked down to the pavement...
...and found the strangest sight he had seen in all the years he had been working with Jim.
The keys to the truck.
Confused, he picked up the keys and looked back at his partner. Sam asked him calmly, "Why don't you drive today, Blair?"
[-Now- I've finally heard everything!] thought Blair. Out loud he joked, "All right, who are you and what have you done with Jim Ellison?"
Sam tensed up slightly before he realized the younger man was joking. Nervously he laughed and replied, "Ha, ha, very funny. I just wanted to catch a few more zzzzzs before we go into the meeting, that's all. Now can we get going already?"
Blair threw his hands up in mock defeat. "Okay, okay, I'll drive." [That's one more to add to the list of strange behaviors from Jim today.] Blair walked around Sam and climbed into the driver's side of the truck. He flashed his partner another look of concern as Sam climbed into the passenger side and got comfortable. Resolving not to rest until he found out what was going on, he looked out his rear view mirror as he started to pull out of the parking space...
...and slammed on the brakes as a middle-aged man in a loud, tasteless suit seemed to appear out of thin air in the back seat of the truck. Before Sam could say anything, Blair wheeled around and looked the man straight in the eye. "All right, who are you, and how did you get in here?"
After recovering from the surprise of the brakes, Sam turned around to see Al sitting in the back seat of the truck with a stunned look on his face. It seemed that kids and crazy people weren't the only ones who could see Al.
Apparently, so could Blair Sandburg.
Resting his head against the passenger seat head rest, Sam took in a deep breath and exclaimed, "Oh boy!"
The first thing that Jim Ellison noticed as he woke up was the lights. [Well Toto, it looks like we're not in Kansas anymore...] Although the lights were bright, they were far from blinding, but he still tried to control his breathing and turn down the dial on his vision slightly, to make things a little more comfortable.
The second thing he noticed was that although he could picture the dials in his head, changing the levels did nothing. [Strange,] Jim thought, [Maybe I'm just tired.] He tried to extend his hearing past the boundaries of the room to get some idea of where he was, but he heard no sounds outside of his own breathing. [Hmmm...maybe they're running white noise generators...] It was when he tried to analyze the smells in the room that he realized exactly what had happened: not only was he being held in some sort of unknown location, his senses had been, as he had once told Simon, 'downgraded to normal'. What in the world was going on here?
And where was Blair? There was no way to tell if whoever had taken him had abducted his Guide as well. That worried Jim. He prayed silently that wherever he was, that Blair was not here, and that wherever Blair was, that the younger man was safe. He added another quick prayer that Blair and Simon would find him somehow and get him out of there. The disappearance of his heightened senses was disturbing, but survivable. And once he was able to find Blair, he was certain the anthropologist would understand exactly what was going on.
After all, he had always figured out these kind of problems before-why not now?