"Al, I really don't feel right about wearing this here." Sam tugged uncomfortably at Russell's clerical suit as he and Al sat at the bar at The Craze, a rather sad club considering the town's population, but busy enough for them to blend in. If Sam didn't feel like he stuck out like a sore thumb, that is. Why he'd let Al talk him into wearing this, he didn't know. He thought he was supposed to be the one with the power of suggestion.

"Relax, pal," Al said, bobbing his head to the music and drumming on the bar, "Without the collar, no one's gonna know it's a monkey church suit."

"I'll know," Sam hissed through his teeth, "And why do I have to wear it?"

"It was the only black thing Russell owned. Vampires are supposed to wear black, right? So?" As if that answered anything, Al nodded decisively and took a sip of his virgin drink. Sam simply sat there in tense irritation. "You've gotta play the part, Sam." His sentence was barely finished when an attractive brunette brushed lightly past him, eyeing him flirtatiously. His eyes trailed the length of her in appreciation. Leaning in toward Sam, he said conspiratorially, "Hey, you know that sexual lust vampires seem to exude? Well I think werewolves have some of that mojo too. I've been gettin' looks from honeys all night...Not that Al Calavicci ever had a problem in that department." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Al!" Sam whispered scoldingly, "You're a priest!"

"No, Russell is a priest," Al corrected him, "And I see nothing wrong with a little...animal attraction..." He flashed a charming smile at another woman who was eyeing him across the bar.

"Al!"

Reluctantly tearing his gaze away from the woman, Al rolled his eyes. "Whoever heard of a Boy Scout vampire? Don't make this weird, Sam."

"Yeah, Sammy," chimed in Vanessa from her seat next to them. Perfect. Just what Sam needed: someone to encourage Al's bad habits. She jiggled her crossed leg and wiggled her toes. As they sat there, werewolf, vampire, and ghost, Thriller began to blare from the speakers. Sam remained stoic. It was almost like the beginning of a bad joke. "Ooh, there she is!" Vanessa wagged her finger at a dowdy girl in a thick sweater, who took a seat at the far end of the bar.

"You sure?" Sam asked as he appraised the young woman.

"Yeppers," Vanessa confirmed in a serious, detective-like tone, "she matches the description."

"Go get her, killer," Al encouraged, patting Sam on the back. He winced. "Er-forget that last part."

"Thanks, Al," Sam replied wryly, sliding from the barstool and making his way toward his target.

Sally stirred her drink absentmindedly, unaware of Sam's approach. Making his best attempt to look suave, he ended up tripping over his own feet on the way. Luckily for him, Sally was distracted by a bug on the counter. With a quick snatching motion, she had the bug in her hand and popped it into her mouth. Sam had to take a second to wipe the grimace off of his face before he approached.

He cleared his throat. "This seat taken?"

"Huh?" Sally uttered in surprise, looking behind her, "You talking to me?"

"Yeah, um..." Sam forced a grin, "Beautiful." It was lame, and he knew it. He was not usually the type to go out picking up women, and certainly not one to try and manipulate one for information. He felt wrong doing it. Hypnotism or no, he didn't want to toy with someone's emotions. But...lives were on the line, and not just his. He glanced over at Al and Vanessa, who both gave him thumbs up of encouragement.

Sally blushed deep red. "Oh, I...I've never been called that before."

Suddenly, Sam found himself feeling sorry for her. Genuinely, he asked, "Really?" She shook her head. "It's true. You are beautiful," he said in earnest. He really meant it. If she took care of herself, combed her hair, and maybe dressed in something that fit properly, she would clean up well. It occurred to him that someone who clung to the fruitless hope of becoming a vampire for so long, following someone who certainly didn't care about her wellbeing, was probably a very lonely individual. He felt like giving her a hug.

Behind him, Al was gesturing to get a move on, but Sam didn't feel like hypnotizing her now. He wanted to make sure she was okay. And so, he sat on the stool next to her and grinned. "The name's Danny." He extended his hand, and she shook it shyly.

"Sally."

"What in the world is he doin' over there?" Al asked aloud, narrowing his eyes at Sam as he chatted politely with Sally. He thought he could almost hear what they were saying, but the sound of the club's music drowned them out. Sighing, he downed the last of his virgin daiquiri. Much as he appreciated the extra female attention he was getting, bars were infinitely less fun to hang at when you couldn't drink, and he felt like a tool ordering virgins. He'd much rather slip into bed with one. Deciding he should push things along, he clanked his glass onto the counter and muttered to himself, "What would the Prudent Prince do without me?"

As he approached Sam and Sally, Sally was just getting ready to leave. She smiled thankfully and took Sam's hand in both of hers. "Thank you so much, for everything."

"I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it," Sam said, grinning, "Remember, Sally: you don't need immortality to be special. You're a wonderful person, and you're going to find someone who makes you feel as important as you are."

"Thank you! Thank you!" Sally blushed, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and left.

Al's mouth hung open. "The hell was that, Sam?"

"Sally and I were, um..." Sam scratched at his ear, "having a little talk. She was feeling lonely, and I convinced her that following a vampire wasn't a great lifestyle choice." His face split into a grin. "Al, she's really neat. She has this knitting class she-"

"Saaam!" Al cut in sternly, "You didn't hypnotize her? You just booked us a one way ticket to Nowheresville!"

"I didn't need to hypnotize her," Sam beamed, leaning against the counter, "Not everyone has to be manipulative to get what they want." Admittedly, he was rather proud of himself. Not only did it feel more honest, but it also felt like he was holding onto what made him Sam. And that was immensely important.

"You found out where our vampire is?" Al questioned in surprise.

"Well, she didn't know," Sam admitted, and Al's eyes went skyward, "but I did find out who it was! And that there's only one vampire at work here, which narrows things down. That means her master has to be the one who bit me."

Hand on his hip, Al appeared to reluctantly give him credit for his findings. "Great. Who's the guy?"

"Well, she's...named Daisy." Sam quickly retreated into his glass of water.

Al's annoyance disappeared with a guffaw. "Oh, a lady, is it? A lady named Daisy?"

"Al..."

"You sure know how to pick 'em, huh?" Al chuckled, "Hoo boy, whoever heard of a vampire named Daisy?"

"Whoever heard of a werewolf named Al?" Sam retorted, but Al continued to laugh, long and ceaselessly. Sam decided to be more professional and get back to business. "Let's review. We know...Daisy, has attacked mostly homeless people, probably to raise less attention. So, until the Project can contact us again, we should try and stick to places homeless people frequent."

"That sounds like a safe bet," Al agreed, the last of his chuckles dying down, "But where do, uh, where do we start?"

"I heard about something at the soup kitchen..." Sam hinted with a smirk.

Nearby, unknown to them, a very unhappy vampire watched from the shadows. She was losing her new recruit in some sort of "heroic" crusade. With a quick push in the right direction, however, she knew he'd be changing his tune. First, she had to get rid of his co-conspirator. A quick sniff determined that he was a werewolf, which meant his blood was too vile to drink. But, as she'd found out during her time as vampire, there was more than one way to skin a cat. Or a dog.

As it turns out, Sam had recalled seeing a flyer in the soup kitchen about a church picnic, which meant free food, and that meant homeless people. That also meant, unfortunately, that Al would be back in his clerical suit. He felt like an impostor. And, he supposed he was. Growing up Catholic, he'd found one thing they loved was heaping on guilt, and that didn't bode well for someone who was guilty of something 95% of the time. But now, he was the one meant to be judging others, preaching of hellfire and brimstone, and all of the things that had frightened him so much as a child. Nowadays, he was still afraid of the devil, but he didn't need no priest to tell him that. Presently, though, his thoughts were on why on earth they were having a picnic in the fall.

Oh yeah. He'd made a mess of the church when he'd turned into the Dog-faced Boy. This was their way of lifting everyone's spirits, not to mention collecting donations to repair the damage. Guiltily, Al placed some of Russell's money in the collection jar. He figured Russell would probably do the same if it had been him. Yeesh, it had been decades since Al had been a practicing Catholic, and that guilt still worked on him.

As for that lift of spirits everyone was looking for, most people just seemed to be trying to keep warm. All except for Sam, who didn't seem affected by the cold if he felt it. He sure looked goofy though. With his collar flipped up and wearing a pair of Russell's sunglasses, his skin pale in the sunlight, he stuck out like an eerie, putrefied thumb. Occasionally, one of Danny's friends would come by and congratulate him on his quick recovery. Apparently news of his attack traveled fast.

A small voice piped up from behind Al. "U-Um...Father Gray?"

It took Al a moment to remember that was him, and he turned around to find an 11-year-old boy standing there, biting his lip nervously. The kid distractedly wiped his nose on his shirt. "Uh, yeah?"

"Could I talk to you about something bad? I dunno who else to go to."

Briefly, a wince flickered across Al's face. Oh, hell. More advice from Father Calavicci. It was one thing to try and fake it in that booth, but here this kid was, staring him in the face, coming to him with his problems. Al considered himself something of a bullshit artist, but it didn't sit well with him to be deceitful while in the guise of a priest, especially to a little kid. He could almost feel hellfire licking at his heels. "Uhhh..." His head fell in his hand as he considered making an excuse to leave. But the kid really did look like he needed some guidance. Al blew out a breath. "Sure, kid. Let's head over there." He jerked his head toward a bench a short distance from the crowd. The kid nodded, and they made their way there. "So what seems to be the problem?" asked Al as he took a seat next to him.

The little boy twisted his fingers together. "I...I wanted forgiveness."

"What'd you do?" Al questioned warily.

"I..." The boy thought for a moment, closing his brows together. "These boys at school, they make fun of me. They make fun of me because I don't have a mom. And...and I hate them. I hate them, Father!" His tiny fists were balled up in anger, which quickly gave way to shame. "And I...I know I shouldn't think the things I'm thinking. It's wrong. And-And I just want forgiveness. Can I have that? If I'm really sorry?"

Now the kid was breaking his heart, and Al couldn't help but feel a bit of anger on the boy's behalf. A kid his age shouldn't be worried about forgiveness or penance, especially when he was the one being wronged. He placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Kid...there's nothin' to be sorry for."

The boy looked up in surprise. "There isn't?"

Al shook his head. "No. There's nothing wrong with feeling angry if someone hurts you. It's, uh...well, it's how you act on it that counts. And I'd say you did a da-" He barely remembered to censor himself. "A darn good job at keeping your cool. You should be proud of yourself."

"You...you think so?"

"I know so. Look, you don't owe those boys anything, and certainly not your guilt."

The boy lowered his eyes. "But what if they keep making fun of me?"

"Well, uh, you gotta try not to let it get to you. You've got nothin' to be ashamed of," Al assured him, "I grew up without a mom, and I turned out just fine. More or less."

"You did?" the boy asked in wonder.

"Sure did. And kids used to tease me about it, too, but you know what? Eventually you're gonna realize that they don't matter in the long run. You gotta have faith in yourself." The boy nodded, but Al felt the need to say something else. He squeezed his shoulder and leaned in. "But if it's more than words? And someone tries to hurt you? You pop 'em one."

The boy's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Sure. But," Al added, a finger raised warningly, "only if you need to. You understand?"

The boy nodded eagerly. "Yes, Father." He thought for a moment. "Should I pray for them?"

Al shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure, if you want to."

"Thanks, Father," the boy said happily, standing up, "I'll do what you told me." And he took off, leaving Al grinning to himself. The kid reminded him of him, back when he was in the orphanage. If he'd gotten that same advice when he was younger, maybe he wouldn't have ended up in the hot seat with so many nuns. Maybe this priest gig wasn't so bad after all.

Yeah, and maybe he was the Queen of England.

His stomach growled at him. Time to take advantage of that free lunch.

"Oh my god, Sam, did you try this?" Al inquired, his mouth full of food, "I dunno what they put in these muffins, but they're yumola!"

He gestured at Sam with his muffin, and Sam's reaction was instant. He crinkled his nose in disgust, shoved his hand away, and angrily ordered, "Eck! Al, don't do that!"

"Jeez, Sam, what's got your cape in a twist?"

Ignoring Al's jab about the cape, Sam sighed and calmed down a little. "I'm sorry, I...I'm just a little on edge, that's all."

"Yeah, a vampire around church folk, I'd be edgy too," Al said, finishing the last of his muffin.

"No, I mean...being around people." Sam looked down shamefully. "That pig's blood isn't really doing it for me. And..." Deciding against continuing, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and shrugged.

Now Al understood. He nodded. "Don't worry, buddy. We'll figure this out." He cleared his throat and loosened his collar a bit. The weather was getting warmer.

"I don't think she's going show up, Al," said Sam, eyeing the crowd, "We might be wasting our time."

"Uh...hopefully...hopefully not..."

Distracted by Al's tone of voice, Sam turned to look at him again. Al was holding his stomach and looking concerned. "Al? What's wrong?"

"I dunno..."

"You look sick."

And then there was that horrible feeling again, what Al had felt in the confessional at the church. That hot, crawl-under-his skin, sick to his stomach feeling he got before...

Snap!

Al yelled and folded in on himself. With alarm, Sam ran to his side. "Al!"

"Sam, it's-It's happening aga-AH!" He screamed again as once more, his bones began to break and shift. This couldn't be happening. He thought this only happened on a full moon! Yet he couldn't deny what he was seeing: fur beginning to creep up on his hands, claws shoving their way out from under bloody nails, the immense pain he felt as his body began to change form. Sam saw it too.

"What? How?"

"Never mind how, Sam!" Al groaned as another wave of pain hit him. The crowd was beginning to stare. As Sam saw them, he began to realize the danger they were in. If Al transformed, a lot of people could get hurt or killed. They needed to act quickly.

"We need to get you out of here," Sam stated obviously, grabbing him by the arms. Al's head shot up and stared at him with yellow eyes, pleading for help. Sam looked nervously at the crowd. "It's, uh...a bad flu." He knew it didn't make any sense, but it was better than nothing.

"Hurry, Sam!" Al growled, struggling to keep a hold on himself. The seams on his shoulders began to tear.

Sam didn't need to be told twice. But as he began to pull Al away, his friend began to fight with him and snarl. "Come on, Al! We need to get out of here before someone gets hurt!"

Al was stronger than he looked, but then again, so was Sam now. Surprisingly, he was not as hard to hold onto as he had thought he would be. That didn't mean he could hold him forever, though, and they were running out of time. That's when Sam spotted, across the street, an open moving van. That would have to do. He dragged Al, who was screaming and pulling, over to the back and shoved him inside, quickly yanking down the door. Inside, he could hear Al begin to beat furiously at his prison, shoving his entire weight into it, his screams turning into animalistic sounds. Sam tensed up when door began to dent, but thankfully it held. At last, he heard a howl.

"Oh boy..."

When Al was Al once again, he woke up to find a pair of fun bags staring him right in the face. All in all, considering he felt like death warmed over, it wasn't the worst thing he could've woken up to. He reached up, pulling the magazine away, and studied the picture more closely. Mmm. Miss July. He'd seen this one before, but damn was it a good vintage. Shame about the torn edges and missing pages, marring an otherwise perfect Playboy.

Where was he anyway? The only light he could see was streaming in through cracks on either side of the door, but it was enough to allow him to see around. Various boxes and broken pieces of furniture surrounded him, apparently having been destroyed while he was...otherwise indisposed. Which reminded him. It was awfully chilly in here.

The door slid open, and Al was temporarily blinded by the sunlight. Once his eyes had adjusted to the drastic change in lighting, Sam came into view.

"Al? You okay?"

"Yeah, Sam, I-" Al quickly realized that, once again, he was stark naked in front of his best friend. Without the shock of his first transformation, he had the presence of mind to feel extremely embarrassed. He hid behind a large box and shot Sam a wildly offended look. "Do you mind?!"

Sam craned his head, leaned forward, and handed him a set of clothes. "You're welcome."

Al slanted his mouth with chagrin and rapidly snatched the clothes out of Sam's hand, opting not to say anything as he redressed himself.

"You okay now?" Sam asked in concern, "I mean...no..." He made his hands into claws and snarled.

"I'm alright. I think." As Al buttoned his pants, he looked up in alarm. "No one got hurt, did they? Or..." He trailed off.

Sam shook his head, and Al leaned on top of some boxes in relief. "No, I got you out of there in time. We got lucky though. If I hadn't found this moving van, it might've been a different story."

"God..." Al sighed and looked back up. "What the hell happened? I thought werewolves only transformed under the full moon!"

"They do," Sam confirmed, "Unless...something else triggers them."

Al slanted his mouth again. "Like what?"

"Like a spell, or, if they ingest wolfsbane," Sam explained. Al gave him a questioning look. "I've been doing some reading while you were...out."

"Oh. Hang on!" Al's eyes lit up as he had an idea. "The muffin I was eating! I thought it tasted different! It must've been laced with that, uh, whatchamacallit, wolfsvane..."

"Wolfsbane," Sam corrected him.

"Wolfsbane, right. Yikes! What an unlucky coincidence! Who uses wolfsbane in their recipes anyway?" Al shook his head.

"No one," Sam answered darkly, "Wolfsbane is poisonous to humans."

"What? Then why didn't anyone else get sick?"

"I think someone planted that one specifically for you."

"Why would...?" Al gasped and pointed, rounding the boxes and closing in on Sam. "Your vampire chick! Yeah, Sam! There was a woman with sunglasses there; I thought I recognized her! She was at the soup kitchen! Cowboy girl!"

"She must've found out we were onto her," Sam concluded with worry, "She must have figured if you turned into a werewolf in the crowd, you'd get caught or killed or something." Al furrowed his brows and leaned in on his hand pensively. Sam tried to be comforting. "Hey, I wouldn't let anything happen to you."

"It's not me I'm worried about."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if she's tryin' to get me out of the way, that means she wants you for something. And what do you think that might be?" Al narrowed his eyes and Sam shrugged in puzzlement. Deadpan, Al said, "Sam, you dope. Why do you think she turned you into a vampire? She wants a boyfriend, cowboy!"

"You mean, she...she wants me to...date her?"

"Sure, if you can stay steady for eternity. Face it, Sam: You're one of Dracula's brides." Al stared worriedly at the wall. Sam could only glare.

The back of the van lit up dramatically as the door to the Imaging Chamber slid open, and out came a frantic Gooshie. "Oh good, the lock is holding! Thank goodness we were able to get through!"

"Gooshie, what's the matter?" Sam asked with concern.

"We've got more information on who the next victim is," Gooshie rapidly divulged, "According to a police interview with you, Admiral Calavicci, the next victim is Karen Davies."

"Oh no!" Sam gasped.

"Karen, isn't that Danny's friend?" questioned Al, "Hey, if the interview was with me...then that means we didn't get to her the first time!"

"Which is why you need to hurry! According to Ziggy's calculations," Gooshie said nervously, "there's a 98% chance she's going to be killed in the next 27 minutes!"

"Where?" Sam and Al asked together.

"St. Micah's Church."

Sam and Al booked it out of the van immediately and headed straight for Russell's car. Overhead, the sky rumbled and darkened.

Just as Sam was starting the car and adjusting a mirror he couldn't see himself in, Vanessa appeared in the back seat. "Hiya!"

They both jumped in surprise. "Jeez! You scared the crap outta us!" Al complained.

"Sor-ry!" Vanessa moaned. "Hey, Al? You busy?"

"Extremely."

"It's just, ya know...about that unfinished business..."

Al tightened his mouth, took a deep breath, and twisted himself around to face her. "Look, I hate to be rude, but there's more important stuff going on at the moment. I'll get to you when I get to you, okay?" He turned back around and folded his arms. As the car took off, Vanessa stayed where she was.

Sadly, she whispered, "Everything's more important than me."

Karen Davies knew that when she was in trouble, she could always turn to the church. She might not be able to get there every Sunday, but she believed, in her heart of hearts, that Someone was watching out for her. And if she believed in God, she had to believe that that...thing chasing her was of the Devil. In the back of her mind, she hoped it wouldn't be able to enter a house of God.

As the raven-haired woman stepped easily past the destroyed threshold, Karen was horrified to realize she'd been mistaken. The monster grabbed her swiftly by the throat and leaned in for the kill. She was prepared for a painful death when a voice rang out.

"Stop!"

Karen and the monster looked toward the threshold. There stood Danny and Father Gray! Maybe Someone was looking out for her after all.

Sam was tensely aware of the crosses around him, the feeling of dread the building filled him with. It was different than when he had first entered this church. He felt like he was invading it, an unwelcome trespasser. He felt like he was being judged. But he knew he had a life to save.

Then there was a vampire named Daisy. She flashed a toothy grin, the widest her face had cracked since the beginning of this leap. "Come to join me, cowboy?"

"Let her go," Sam ordered, sounding more confident than he felt.

Instead of answering him, Daisy's eyes flickered to Al. "I see you made it."

"You worried?" Al asked defiantly, his eyes slit.

"Not really. But it was fun to see you squirm."

Sam could tell Al was steamed, but not enough to overcome his fear. Instead, he pursed his lips and squared his shoulders, but his fists were shaking at his side. It took all of his strength not to scream and run the other way. He'd been in a lot of fights in his lifetime, but going against a vampire was one he could do without.

Sam took a step forward, attempting to fix his gaze on Daisy. Maybe he could use his hypnotism powers on her, convince her to set Karen free. It was worth a shot. He swallowed. "Let her go," he repeated.

"Join me," Daisy ordered. Her intensity outshone his, and he found himself being lost in her eyes. He faltered. Daisy turned Karen's neck toward him, and he could hear her heart thumping. He licked his lips. He could almost taste the blood in his mouth, feel it sliding warmly down his throat...

"Saaam!" Al warned in his ear, "Don't listen to her!"

Sam tried again. "L-Let-"

"Join me, lover."

Against all his senses, Sam found himself overcome with desire. He needed to drink. He needed to kill. He took a step forward.

"Saaam!" Al reached out and grabbed him, but Sam grabbed his hand and twisted it away. Blindsided by pain and surprised by the quick action, Al backed off and nursed his arm as Sam made his way over to Karen and Daisy.

"Drink her," Daisy urged softly, offering Karen to him.

Sam swallowed. She was so close, and she smelled so good. It would be so satisfying to sink his teeth into her, feel her life draining away, all of the power in his hands...He reached out, took her in his arms, and breathed in her scent.

"Sam, what're ya doin'?" he could hear Al call from behind, "This isn't you!"

Sam didn't look back. Pulling a terrified Karen closer, he leaned in toward her neck.

"Aw, Sam! No!"

"Run," Sam whispered. Karen nodded frantically. He let her go, and in an instant she was racing for the door. Daisy hissed and tried to follow, but Sam had grabbed her by the arm.

"Atta boy, Sam!" Al whooped, "I knew you wouldn't do it!"

"You fool!" Daisy shrieked, smacking Sam across the face. Once more, he found himself crashing into a pew. "I'm older and stronger than you! I'll kill you for your insolence!" She began to close in to finish it when a cross was shoved in front of her.

"Take that, ya witch!" Al shouted.

Furious, she hissed and knocked the cross out of his hands, catching him by surprise. She shot out her arm and clamped down on his throat, lifting him off the ground. "Werewolves are so useless. I can't even drain you. But I can snap your neck in an instant." Al looked very much against that idea, but he couldn't speak to argue. Her fingers tightened, she grinned evilly, and suddenly she gasped.

Behind her, Sam had a piece of a pew in hand, stuck straight through Daisy and into her heart. Dropping a coughing Al to the ground, she staggered to face her killer with a look of betrayal.

"So long, cowboy..." She extended her hand, smiled sadly, and her features faded to dust.

Sam gasped as he felt new life within him, and the weight of the church being lifted off of his shoulders. He took in a deep breath. Grinning, he felt his teeth. No fangs. It had worked. It had actually worked! He laughed giddily. "Al! Al, I'm human again!"

"I'm really happy for you," Al rasped, "but could you help me out here?"

"Oh! Gosh, sorry!" Sam reached out and helped him to his feet. Al groaned and rubbed his back. "Are you okay?"

"I could use a lozenge," Al joked, smirking, "but otherwise I'm okay. Jeez, what a mess..."

They eyed the extra damage the church had taken on during the skirmish. It wasn't faring very well this leap. Sam raised his eyebrows guiltily. "Should we, er...should we clean up?"

"Sure thing, Sam," said Al, clapping his shoulder tiredly, "Tomorrow." His hand slid away, and he staggered back out the door. Sam held back for a moment, looking at the large cross above the pulpit. He smiled.

"Thank You."

"One thing I don't get," Al commented as he swept up pieces of stained glasses, leaning on the broom for a moment, "is if you got to turn human again, why does Russell have to stay a werewolf? That doesn't seem very fair."

"Maybe he was meant to be a werewolf," Sam shrugged, throwing another piece of a pew into a pile. He wiped away the sweat from his forehead. This was a lot harder to move around now that he was human. Not to mention, he felt every bruise on his body he'd sustained during the fight with Daisy. "Or maybe he finds a cure later."

"I really hope so," Al said. The sound of rain pattering against the walls echoed through the church. He looked up and saw Vanessa sitting in one of the pews, staring at her hands sadly. He sighed guiltily. "Aw, Vanessa...I completely forgot about her."

"Maybe that's why we're here," Sam said, looking in her general direction. Now that he was human again, he couldn't see her anymore.

"Ya think?"

"It wouldn't hurt to try," Sam replied, nodding toward her encouragingly.

Al made his way over to the melancholy ghost, clearing his throat nervously. "Hey, Vanessa. How are you?" She shrugged noncommittally. He sighed. "I'm sorry. I wouldn't have abandoned you if it wasn't a life or death situation."

Vanessa took a moment to think. "You know, all I ever wanted was to be remembered? Just for something, I dunno what. Like...I was special, ya know?" She shrugged. "I never did anything important."

"Sure you did," Al said, upbeat.

"Like what?"

"Uhhhh...you cut hair! Yeah, lots of people need a good haircut."

Vanessa was even more depressed now. She pouted, and Al rubbed the back of his neck.

"Dr. Beckett!"

Sam's face lit up as Gooshie stepped in from the future. "Hey, Gooshie! Thanks for the heads up about Karen."

"Hmm? Oh!" Gooshie grinned, "Glad I could be of service. Are you feeling like you're still, uh...?" He squinted at Sam nervously.

Sam bit back a grin. "No, Gooshie. I don't think I'm a vampire anymore."

Gooshie blew out a breath of relief. "Thank god! We were really worried at the Project! No offense, but...some of us thought you'd lost your marbles."

"Luckily I have you here to set my head on straight," Sam replied knowingly. Gooshie beamed. "So, what's the news?"

Gooshie consulted the handlink. "According to Ziggy, Danny Price turns out just fine. In fact, he joins the priesthood, and in a year he's off the streets and renting his own apartment. He starts a program that helps provide affordable apartments for homeless people, including Karen Davies."

"That's great!" Sam exclaimed proudly.

"We just can't figure out why you haven't leaped yet," Gooshie said in puzzlement, scratching his head. Sam grinned.

"I think I know."

"Okay look," said Al, kneeling next to Vanessa, "Plenty of people go through life without doing anything important. In fact, most people do. But that doesn't make them unimportant."

"I wish I could believe that," Vanessa said sadly.

"Father Gray?"

Al heard the small voice and was surprised to see the boy he'd talked to at the park. Vanessa gasped, but he couldn't exactly ask her what the deal was with this kid here. "Oh, hey, kid. What're you doing here?"

"He's with me," answered a woman with a long brown hair. She gave a wide smile and extended her hand to him, which he shook. "My name's Annie. Annie Tafani."

Al had to fight to keep his eyes from bugging out of his head at the name. He chanced a look at Vanessa, who was watching with just as much surprise.

"I'm Peter's aunt," Annie explained, "We won't take up too much of your time, we just wanted to thank you for the advice you gave yesterday. I don't know everything you told him, but...it meant a lot to Peter."

"Thanks," Peter said with a wide smile.

"No problemo, kid."

"He's a good boy. I know his mother is proud of him."

Al took another look at Vanessa and tears were in her eyes. He smiled. "I'd say you're right."

"I'll always love her," Peter said, nodding.

"Good," Al said, ruffling his hair, "Keep that love in your heart, and she'll never leave you."

Peter grinned, and Annie took him by the hand. "We have to go now, but...can we talk again sometime?"

"Absolutely," Al answered, then he turned to Peter, "Stay out of trouble, kid."

"I will." And with another smile, he and his aunt were gone.

Al turned to Vanessa, who clutched her heart proudly. "Peter..."

"You know something, Vanessa?" Al said happily, "I don't think you'll ever be forgotten."

For once, Vanessa was silent. She simply flashed him one of her brilliant smiles, and faded into a beam of light.

Sam stepped up beside Al, taking in the joyful look on his face. "Al?"

"She moved on, Sam."

"Errr...what are you two looking at?" inquired Gooshie, eyeing the location Vanessa used to be. He glanced at them warily.

"Hey Gooshie," Al asked, ignoring his question, "Can you tell me what happens with Peter Tafani?"

"Um, sure," Gooshie replied, plonking onto the handlink. It whined at him, then spit out the information. "Hmm...Wow! This is strange. Apparently you changed history!"

"Oh yeah?"

"According to Ziggy, in the original timeline, Peter grew so depressed over the loss of his mother that he committed suicide when he was 15. But now, he's currently attending a state university on a football scholarship! Apparently he was given a new confidence because of something his priest said..."

"Jeez louise," Al breathed, rubbing his head, "If Peter had listened to the real Father Gray, he'd be dead now. So much for miracles, huh, Sam?" He eyed a cross on the wall with disappointment.

"I don't know, Al," Sam said thoughtfully, "Maybe you were leaped in here because God, Time, Fate, or Whatever...knew that what Father Gray had to say wasn't the advice Peter needed to hear." He shrugged one shoulder. "Maybe you were his angel, Al."

"Oh, Sam..." Al groaned.

"God works in mysterious ways," Sam grinned.

Hmph. Maybe, but Al would never cop to it. But...Someone had to've been looking out for them if they were still alive after all that. So maybe there was a meaning behind all this after all.

"What about Russell?" he suddenly remembered to ask. Gooshie pushed the buttons on the handlink. "Are there any more 'animal attacks' around him?"

"No, no animal attacks," Gooshie said, and Al breathed a sigh of relief, "And actually...he quits the priesthood, ends up marrying Annie Tafani, and raises Peter as his own child. And they have two more children together!"

"Looks like he got his happy ending after all, Al," Sam said cheerfully.

"Looks like it." Al grinned, then pointed at Sam sternly, "But listen, kid. Don't you ever pull anything like this leap on me again. I mean it. My heart can't take it, and I'm getting too old for this sh-"

At that very moment, a bolt of lightning struck through the window and hit him, sending him once more through time and back to the Project. Sam got the idea anyway. Somehow, he wasn't surprised by this outcome. He looked at the cross again. "You've got a very good sense of timing."

As if GTFW was listening in, he was engulfed in blue light and sent to his next destination in history. He prayed the next leap didn't fall on Halloween.