This Quantum Leap™ story utilizes characters that are copyright © by Bellasarius Productions and Universal Studios. No infringement on their respective copyrights is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan fiction story is written solely for the entertainment of the readers and is not for profit. All fiction, plots, and original characters are the sole creations of the author.
Too Smart for His Own Good
Chapter One - Nightmares Really Do Come True
Tall, elegant and very beautiful, her piercing eyes projected a disquieting allure. With maliciousness, she stared at the kaleidoscope-dressed man standing on the far side of the room. Completely oblivious of her disdain, he chattered, "Beckett's memories are gone. He's harmless."
Gazing deeply into the shallow eyes of the dizzy man, she fumed, "I know that, you fool."
Without acknowledging she'd said a word, he blithely babbled, "But Calavicci isn't harmless. He remembers everything. What are you going to do about him?"
Annoyed at the mention of Beckett and the insignificant little Admiral she sighed with utter condescension, "It's brilliant and ever so entertaining."
The experiment was over. It had been a long ten years. Leaping from person to person was now history and the time had come for Dr. Sam Beckett to sit back and finally take a deep breath. He wasn't used to looking like himself. The gray forelock in his brown hair was a new addition. So were the crinkles around his eyes. When he passed a mirror he was startled by his own reflection. It felt odd being Sam and he wasn't sure he was dealing with it well. The only good thing that happened was within days, his pre-leap memory returned. He had all of it back, but sadly, also completely lost the memory of his leaps. To know what happened in a certain situation, he had to access Ziggy, the parallel hybrid computer he designed, or read Admiral Al Calavicci's detailed journals. This lack of remembrance made Sam, on occasion, doubt what they accomplished. At times, it seemed to him the adventures were all stories by a very imaginative and creative Admiral, written as a cover-up for Sam's mental breakdown. The lack of reality disturbed him.
Unlike Sam, the Admiral remembered all the leaps, all the variations in time, all the ramifications of those variations and now that it was all over, it was proving to be overwhelming. With hundreds of lifetimes worth of memories to sort out, he wasn't sleeping or eating well. His self-assurance flew out the window and fear was always present in his dark eyes. Al needed to know where Sam was at every minute as if not knowing meant Sam would disappear again.
Sam had some of the same fears. He needed Al's advice in almost every situation. Before moving on seemingly inconsequential decisions, he waited for Al to guide him. The dream of being home wasn't panning out as they had assumed it would. Both men knew something was very wrong, but neither wanted the other to worry, so each kept it smoldering inside.
It was inevitable that the focus of most people's attention was on the younger man, the time traveler who became lost in his own experiment. Al didn't mind. He felt lucky to finally be left alone, able to disappear behind the monumental job of Project Administrator. Sam had committee meeting after committee meeting, writing the reports and finalizing the presentation paper for the Nobel Committee. It was already hyped in various media that Beckett and Calavicci would be the winners of the Physics Prize for the year 2005. Time Magazine said so with a cover story. So did Newsweek, Scientific American and most of the legitimate academic journals as well. Sam was excited about the possibility of a second Nobel and even more excited about Al getting his first. In all honestly, Al didn't care about the Nobel Prize and even requested his name be left off the paper as co-creator of the project, but Sam knew the truth. Without Al, the project would never have happened and, after Sam's impetuous first leap, could never have been successfully concluded. After all, the Admiral saved Sam's life 41 times in the ten years he leaped about in time.
Ten months had gone by since Sam returned from wherever. It was Saturday. Al was intense at his computer attempting to locate a lost file in the 18,829 billion gigabytes of Ziggy's memory. If Ziggy had done the search, it would have been over in a thousandth of a millisecond, but Al took his loss of the file as a challenge. He found it after fifteen minutes of searching. Then, there was the maintenance report to review and the budget to look at.
Sam poked his head in. He and Donna had completed the first draft of the paper regarding the results of Quantum Leap and it needed Al's total recall of all leaps and his literary expertise to make it readable, understandable, and acceptable. "Beth said you were here already. Could you look at this draft of the Nobel paper? We think it's almost right, but you're the wordsmith."
"Put it on my desk. I'll get to it as soon as I can."
Using the puppy dog face that always worked on his friend, Sam asked, "Before the party?"
The party slipped his mind. Knowing Sam, he didn't bother looking up. That face would get him and he didn't have time for it. The Admiral shook his head and pointed to the six inches of paper piled up already. "All of this needs to be handled today."
Sam was disappointed, but he understood. "No problem, Al, but remember, our flight leaves at noon and you're the pilot." He plunked an additional two inches of paper on top of Al's pile. "Got to go help Donna with the baby. Your godson is a handful." Then he walked out.
A quick look at his watch told him it was 8:15 and he'd already been working for three hours. He hadn't eaten breakfast again, but then nothing felt like it would stay down. He didn't even want to think about the reception tonight. People were gathering to publicly congratulate all on the successful return of Sam Beckett and the completion of Phase II of Project Quantum Leap. It would be a white tie affair at the ever chi-chi Monticello Hotel for 350 of Sam's and Al's closest friends. It was a night for the Navy tailcoat and all the fancy hardware hanging off his pocket and the big one around his neck, the Congressional Medal of Honor. Photo opportunities would be abundant with local and national press scheduled to cover the event.
Al, Beth, Sam, Donna and others would be spending the night at the hotel because the first meetings regarding Quantum Leap's Phase III were beginning at 7:30 the next morning. It was a formal meeting and an important one. Vice President Diane McBride would be representing the feds. There were preparations to be completed. Al had to check with clerical to be sure the packets of information he requested were ready and on their way to the conference center.
It was getting late. He didn't need the aggravation of the ridiculous unlawful dismissal suit. Al threw the one-more-piece-of-annoying-crap on the credenza behind him so he could deal with it when he got back from Albuquerque.
Where was the last estimate on the cost for Ziggy's modifications for Phase III? He needed that for the morning. He should eat, but not yet. Bag lunches were scheduled for the jet flight to Albuquerque, though food held absolutely no appeal for him. He wondered how he was going to fake eating the rubber chicken that night. His stomach was in knots. His clothes, (another annoying detail) - hopefully Beth packed for him and he wouldn't have to worry about that. He had to call the hangar and make sure the jet was ready. When he reached for the phone, he could see his hand shake a little. Even though he was scheduled to fly, he decided to ask for another pilot. Flying was one of his greatest loves, but he wasn't stupid. With his hands shaking, he wouldn't pilot. His machismo wasn't tied into doing dumb stunts like flying when he wasn't shouldn't. Now he had to fabricate some story explaining why he wasn't piloting the jet.
The phone rang and if he had money on it being Beth, he'd have won. It was 11 o'clock and the plane would be taking off in an hour. In a sheepish voice, he asked if she packed his uniform, all the fruit salad for his breast pocket, etc. She had and he told her yet again that he loved her. It was past noon when Al packed up his desk and made his way to the hangar knowing he was in hot water.
His late arrival, while completely expected, was not appreciated by the contingent aboard the Lear. The manifest listed three Calaviccis - Al, Beth, and Allegra, the youngest of their four daughters. The Becketts were there, so that made five. The pilot made six. The jet seated twelve, so there was room to spread out. Al excused himself and made his way to the back. He sat alone and watched the New Mexico sky shining bright and hopeful. While other hearts onboard were light and full of anticipation for the evening, Al was uncharacteristically low-key. Allegra noticed it first and sat next to him. "Hey, there, Dad. What's going on?"
He looked into her dark eyes, a uniquely beautiful color that Sam called "Italian Chocolate." Taking her hand, he said, "You are so beautiful. How did I ever father a kid like you?"
Allie was a bright kid and tuned into her father better than anyone including Sam and sometimes even her mother. "Okay, Dad, what's up? Are you feeling alright?"
He put his arm around his 16-year-old child. "I'm tired, sweetheart. It's been a long ten years and I finally got a chance to catch my breath. I just didn't realize how tired I really was."
The young girl barely recalled the times when her father's life didn't revolve around Imaging Chambers and physics so complex that only a handful of people in the world understood it. "It's weird, a good weird, not having to wonder where Uncle Sam is, but I got to tell you, it's even better knowing where you are. Every time you went into that room, I wondered if you'd come back."
His child's truth tore his heart open. Standard procedure had Ziggy notifying Beth when he was on his way home, regardless of the insanity of the hour. Allie's sixth sense woke her each time that call came in the middle of the night and she would wait for daddy to stop in her room and for them to have a quiet little goodnight hug. Reminiscent of those perfect moments, he pulled her even closer. "This whole thing was hard on you, wasn't it, Allie?"
"I don't know. It's just the way it was. All of us knew what you and Uncle Sam were doing was important, more important than anything we could imagine. I guess we knew we had to share you with the world, but there's enough of you to go around the world a dozen times."
In words, graveled and dark, he whispered, "Allie, there's nothing left of me."
Now she was truly worried. She pulled back and looked into her father's eyes. The spark she expected to see was missing and he seemed unable to focus. "What are you talking about?"
He kissed her gently on her forehead. "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."
"You're scaring me."
A distant voice, a voice he heard but didn't recognize as his answered, "I thought you were my fearless one."
She'd heard it all before. "Right. Gia the clever, Toni the smart, Peri the musical, and Allie the fearless."
"God, did I pigeon-hole the four of you that badly?" Al turned his face away in shame.
She saw how disturbed her comment made her beloved father. "No, Daddy. Trouble is it's pretty accurate. In fact, Mom says I'm exactly like you and I like that. I'd give anything to be like you."
Turning back to his youngest, he took her shoulders in his hands. "No, please don't try to be like me. Nothing connects anymore."
"Dad, I think we should go home."
By now, Beth noticed their conversation and came over. "Anything wrong?"
If he wasn't going to say it, then she would. "Dad's not feeling well, Mom. I don't think he should go to the party."
Beth, as was her habit, turned into a nurse. She immediately checked for fever, pulse and respiration. "Everything seems in order. You feel sick, Al?"
"No, just tired and I earned that, don't you think?" He flashed a very convincing smile that only served to prove that his skill as a practiced liar was still sharp. "Listen, I promise to rest a little." With that, he shooed away his two girls and sat back enjoying the flight, even if not flying himself. That's right, he wasn't flying the jet, but he couldn't for the life of him remember where they were going or how the jet stayed in the air without him being in the cockpit.
By six o'clock that evening, the party was going very well. The gowns were glorious, the tuxedos elegant, and the fancy dress uniforms created just enough of a sensation. When Al finally released Sam for inspection Donna gasped in total appreciation of the look. The usually conventional Dr. Beckett looked smashing in a not-so-conventional Armani tux. Sam didn't gasp at Donna. He simply lost his breath. With Beth's help, she decided to wear a red, body hugging, spaghetti strapped sheath that left little to the imagination and she stunned her husband. When the Becketts entered the Grand Ballroom, all eyes turned.
Al wore the most formal of Navy formalwear, his tailcoat replete with every ribbon it was possible for a now three-star Vice Admiral to receive. He opted not to wear his military sword which was a faux pas, but he didn't care. Beth slipped on a burgundy strapless number that let the world know she still had the body of a woman half her age and she was proud of it. Together, they made the second most noticed appearance of the night and they were very delighted to let Sam and Donna shine.
One of the nicer surprises for the evening was the arrival of the other three Calavicci daughters, Gia, Toni, and Peri. Gia and Toni brought their husbands. Peri, a musician, came with Mitchell Bering, a young television actor on a top ten sitcom.
The staff served surprisingly tasty Copper River salmon, sautéed exotic mushrooms and rice pilaf right before the endless speeches and toasts and photos taken and introductions to people that meant nothing to either time traveler. Photo opportunities increased with Mitchell's presence and the press, who were expected to leave right after the speeches, remained and followed the actor all night long.
The music began with the honorees having the first dance. To the delight of the older couple, Sam requested Georgia on My Mind. Al held onto his beautiful bride as if they were teenagers slow dancing at the prom. He unashamedly kissed her neck revealing to all the passion he still felt for the woman who, through the grace of GodTimeFateWhatever and Sam, waited eight long years for him to come home from hell. Sam and Donna watched and noted the obvious proof that growing older with the right person only increased love and desire.
The song ended and the band started in on a tango. Show time! Al kissed Beth on the hand, spun her toward Sam and deftly changed partners. Both men were fine dancers and they loved flirting with the other's wife. The women fed into the act with their own flair for the dramatic. They were having more fun than they had expected, more fun than they thought possible. With the conclusion of the song came spontaneous applause from the crowd and true, carefree laughter from the dancers. It was the most carefree Al had been in years, but in seconds the charm disappeared. He kept up the illusion of abandon, but his heart fell through the floor realizing the temporary nature of his happiness. Something was not right, but he sure as hell couldn't figure it out. Something about the Project wasn't as complete as they thought. He finally decided he'd have to get Sam alone and ask him for help.
The dancing continued for hours. An exhausted Admiral made his way to a couch at the room's perimeter. Donna sat down next to him as Sam waltzed by with Peri, and Mitchell charmed Beth. Allegra was a couch away holding her own in conversation with the young senatorial candidate from Illinois, Barack Obama. "Al, you have to be proud of your girls."
Without a doubt his daughters were beautiful, bright and talented, but he said, "I'm scared, Donna. I don't want to leave them, but I think I have to." He didn't know where that came from or why he said out loud the words in his heart.
She took his hands, "Al, something's going on. We all can see it and I have to tell you, you're frightening us a little. Are you feeling well?" He shrugged and shook his head as if he wasn't sure what the answer was. The odd response sent a chill through the young woman. "Maybe the night's gone on long enough. It's almost midnight. Let me find Beth and you can go back upstairs." Donna smiled. "Sam and I will make your apologies."
Allegra noticed the panic growing on her father's face and excused herself. She sat at her father's side. "Daddy, are you okay?"
Donna said, "Allie, why don't you and your dad go to the room. I'll get your mom." She looked Allie in the eye telling her something was gravely wrong. "Al, Beth will be right there."
He nodded and concentrated on getting up without Donna or Allie noticing the intensity of the effort. He managed it, barely. The band was playing Someone to Watch Over Me. Giving Donna a fatherly kiss on the cheek, he smiled at her and lightly whispered, "Good-bye."
Donna was concerned to hear him say the word as if he were never returning. "Good-bye?" She tried to lighten her concern, "You're just going upstairs." He said nothing, but walked toward the exit with Allie holding his hand.
Tails don't leave a room quietly, but with Allie in tow, the Admiral did his best. At the bank of elevators, he smiled at the beautiful young woman he fathered. "Listen sweetie, I'm fine. Go back to the party. I'm just getting old."
"Aunt Donna said I should go with you," and she really didn't want to leave his side anyhow.
"Go back to the party." Like he did with Donna, he kissed her cheek and whispered, "Good-bye." The elevator door opened and he entered alone, smiling at Allie to placate her fears. "I'm fine." The Admiral lit the button for the nineteenth floor and fell back against the wall exhausted, grateful for the quiet solitude away from the ballroom. A kind of cold numbing crawled through him, his mind erased like an old blackboard washed down after a full day of lessons. Conscious awareness drifted to some other place as he watched his vacant remains slide to the floor to be discovered by the next people trying to get to their rooms.
She paced slowly and deliberately. "How delicious. It's a start, but now the real work begins."
The man's bright, breezy outfit lit the room more than the intense white light from above. "We know you're up to it, darling. Just remember, you must be brilliant and they must never know."
"That goes without saying." Her smile contained evil. "Absolutely without saying."