Chapter 10
United States Virgin Islands
March 2010
Three days after the gay bar
The day after Jack and Rose had enjoyed an evening on the town - culminating in dancing at the gay dance club - Rose couldn't help giggling as she recounted the fun she'd had the night before. She told Jack that after the initial trepidation she didn't even pay attention to the fact that she looked like a man to everyone else. The night had just rushed away with laughter and stories, making for an evening that she knew she would remember for the rest of her life.
Now, it was a day and a half later and Jack Harkness was escorting her back to their rented beach house, having enjoyed a lunch in a little pub only a few miles from where they were staying. He'd just helped Rose out of the Jeep when his Blackberry rang.
"Harkness," he answered, a lilt in his voice that conveyed his good mood.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Al's voice left no question that he was upset.
"And hello to you too, gorgeous," Jack countered back. "Right now, I'm dressed in only a pair of thongs which really shows off my..."
"Cut the crap, Jack. Do you know what you're doing to Sam's reputation?" He paused but not long enough for Jack to get a word in edgewise. "Not to mention that his mother is upset now as well. And that doesn't even start to address how his brother, sister and ex-wife feel about what they've seen."
Jack blinked for a moment, motioning Rose to go on in the house without him as he stood on the veranda. "What exactly have you and the Beckett clan seen that have your knickers in bunches? And how am I supposedly involved in this unexplained disaster?"
"Did you go dancing with Rose in a gay bar?"
"Um... well... even if we did," the Captain said frowning, "how would you know?"
"Well, let's just say a whole hell of a lot of people know about that or at least think they do. At least anyone who's looked at the cover story of the American Inquisitor. You know, that cheesy rag that is prominently displayed in every grocery store in the country?"
Jack shook his head. "Either I really shouldn't have had that beer during lunch or you just said that everyone and his mother knows I was out dancing with Rose because of a tabloid newspaper."
"That's what I said, Jack. I know this is the same newspaper that keeps saying 'Elvis is alive and well and here's the proof' but now they're playing the same game with Sam. You know he hasn't been seen for years. We've had the cover story that he's chosen to become a recluse. Now there are questions as to whether his divorce was because of his boy toy." Al paused and then added, "That would be you."
A laugh emanated from the former Time Agent. "I am many things, Al. But I don't think I've ever been called someone's boy toy. It's just talk. What, they have a picture or something?"
"Yeah, they have a picture. You and Sam for all practical purposes cheek to cheek." Al huffed. "You two are on the freaking cover!" He calmed down a little. "I've already put out a press release that whoever this man is, it's not Sam."
Jack leaned against the side of the house. "Al, it was a little dancing in a secluded little dance club. She wanted to go out dancing. I wanted to go out dancing. Where would you have me take her? To a regular dance club where we would have stuck out like a sore thumb? I'm surprised anyone even recognized his face."
"Couldn't you have just danced at the house?" Al sighed. "Well, water under the bridge now. As to recognizing him, since he's been gone, stories appear from time to time although they're usually more in the realm of 'whatever happened to' type of stories. This one was a bombshell."
"Real bombshells explode, Al. Bombshell stories of missing people being seen like Elvis are more likely to be duds." He took a breath. "But if it helps, we'll keep to the house and go a bit stir crazy. Just for you."
"Maybe you should just consider coming back," Al suggested hopefully. "I did put in the press release that Sam was nowhere near the Virgin Islands."
"So much for the house then. You know the paparazzi. They hear that someone isn't somewhere, that person has to be there somewhere." There was a pause. "Has the real Sam Beckett shown up on the radar?"
"Not yet, but you know that could happen at any moment."
"Yes, it can," Jack told his friend. "But until it does, Rose and I are having a great time. So, if we can't stay here, I'll just book a private plane and go somewhere else. I figure we may be gone another week or so, depending on the ways of the wind."
Al reached his hand to the bridge of his nose and pinched. "Why did I know you were going to say something like that?" He let out a breath. "So where the hell are you going?"
"I don't know. Maybe Miami."
"Miami!" Al exclaimed. "You can't..."
"Sure I can. But I'll keep Sam's aura under wraps. No more tabloids, Al."
The older man sighed again. "Fine. Just lay low, okay? Don't go out much and when you do, make sure Sam's more incognito."
"You mean Rose. Sam's still with the Doctor," Jack corrected teasingly. "Besides, if what you say is true... don't you think he's hot in that green silk shirt?"
"Yes, I know Sam's still with the Doctor. Why is beyond me but it is what it is," Al said, resigned. "However, Sam is who people see so give his aura a low profile. As to the other..." Suddenly he had a picture in his mind. "You're not... I mean... the two of you aren't..."
"As tempting as the prospect may be to have two gorgeous faces with me in the same bed but only have one body... No. We're not. Rose and I have never had that sort of relationship. So, put away your shotgun, daddy. Your little girl is still safe from the big bad wolf."
"Good. Keep it that way," Al said. He finished the call and hung up, hoping that this tabloid situation would resolve itself soon.
Jack shut off his cell phone, slight disappointment on his face. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted, he thought as he tucked the phone away and walked into the house.
"Was that Al on the phone?" Rose questioned with a grin. "You shouldn't tease him like that, you know."
"Yeah," Jack said, a slight frown on his face. " Unfortunately, he's become even more of a fuss bucket than normal."
"Well, if you continue to flirt with a married and completely heterosexual man..." she started.
"That's not why he's upset." He stopped for a moment and then looked Rose in the eyes, "We were seen. More than that, we were photographed."
"And?" she questioned before realization came to her. "Oh. You mean, you and Sam Beckett were seen and photographed," she translated. "Or at least that's what the photo shows."
"Exactly. Since Sam has always been firmly in the heterosexual camp, Al's afraid that these photos will be interpreted by some as showing something else. Some might even see this as the reason for his divorce."
"So... where did we get seen?"
"During our dancing excursion." He grinned. "I guess I'm supposed to be the one who turned his head."
"If it were anyone, it would be you, Jack," Rose complimented, her tongue sticking out between her teeth as she smiled. "So, I guess we're going back then," she continued, her tone changing to reflect her opinion on the matter. "And we were having so much fun."
He shook his head. "No. We'll have to move to another location. The camera hounds will be looking for Sam here. I told Al we're going to Miami but, even there, when we do go out, you'll need to 'disguise' yourself a little. You deserve this respite from the waiting room and I'll be damned if you don't get it. Besides, there's still time before Sam might leap."
The smile returned. "You seem so certain about that." She let the matter go, knowing that Jack wouldn't tell her why he was certain. "All right. Scarf and sunglasses from now on. Well, figuratively speaking anyway."
"Yes, sunglasses. No to scarf. If they do get another picture, that would just solidify things for the tabloids. I'm thinking Al would very much appreciate you wearing a baseball cap or something," Jack told her. He gestured her towards her room. "Better get packing. We've got a plane to catch."
DWQLTWDWQLTW
Inside the TARDIS
The last few weeks had been a roller coaster for the three travelers but now, after dropping off his friend, Jordgen Pelz, now known as Genardt Penzel, the Doctor felt they had experienced quite enough off-Earth excitement for a while. Sam was fully recovered from Zante's Bronchial Influenza although it would be a few days before he had all of his energy back. Glad, on the other hand, was still showing signs of post-traumatic stress, due to having been kidnapped by underground slave traders and tormented while they were on the capital planet of the Great Meridian Conglomeration. Fortunately, the girl hadn't been assaulted sexually while she was missing, thanks to Pelz' connections in finding her and helping the Doctor bring her safely back to the TARDIS.
The Doctor was now spending his time checking and rechecking the coordinates. He was going to land where he expected and end Sam's comments about his 'driving skills' once and for all. Everything seemed exactly on profile and so he leaned back in the Captain's chair awaiting the return of his two current companions, who had apparently decided swimming in the library pool was to become a daily event. The Gallifreyan didn't mind the activity in the least: it helped both Sam and Glad with their recoveries, giving Sam the exercise he needed to rebuild his strength and giving Glad the confidence she needed to cope with the events she endured.
He found that as he considered them, his mind turned again to Rose. He wondered how she was holding up at Project Quantum Leap. Oh, he knew that Jack would make sure that she was comfortable but... He sighed, knowing that his concern for her safety had more to do with his missing her than anything else. He couldn't wait to hold her in his arms again, return her beaming smile, and take her hand and run as fast as they could...usually away from something that was seriously dangerous. Only this time, he knew in his hearts that Glad would be holding his other hand. He found himself genuinely smiling at the thought.
Sam and Galadriel returned to the console room, cleaned up and fresh after their swim. Even as they did so, the TARDIS jolted hard, forcing the three of them to grab hold of the nearest object, namely the console. "What?" the Time Lord exclaimed, clinging tightly to the console as he pulled the monitor to where he could see it. "Oh, no! Not again! What in the Eternal's realm is wrong with you lately?" he berated the timeship.
Sam looked askance. "What was that?"
"We're being pulled off course... again!" the Gallifreyan exclaimed. Another jolt rocked the TARDIS, sending the Doctor to the floor while Glad stumbled into the Captain's chair.
"Can't you fix it?" she complained, gripping the chair.
"I'm trying!" he answered with a growl.
"You got a barfbag anywhere?" Sam asked, his face looking a shade greener.
"I don't get motion sick," the Doctor replied, getting to his feet only to fall again when another hard jolt hit.
"I do," Sam said, heading out the console room to find a place he could toss his cookies.
As suddenly as it had started, the TARDIS was motionless, the atmosphere heavy with uncertainty. In the distance, the sound of Sam vomiting hit the Doctor's and Glad's ears, causing the Time Lord to wince with sympathy. "Sorry," he murmured as he found his feet again, helping Glad to stand as well. "Are you all right?" Seeing her nod an affirmation, he called towards Sam. "Sam, are you all right?"
The leaper called back, "Not really but as long as we don't go on another roller coaster anytime soon, I'll be okay."
"She shouldn't have done that," the Time Lord complained, walking around the console with a frown on his face. "This is impossible. I quadruple checked everything! We shouldn't have been pulled off course. Well... maybe a few hours or so but this?" He pulled out his specs, perching them on his nose to get a better look at the instruments on the console. "Coordinates are still set to New Mexico 2009. Directional locator is working just fine. Dimensional stabilizer... well... that's always been a little off but it shouldn't have made us quake like that. Where and when are we exactly?" Pulling the monitor towards him yet again, his frown grew. "What?!"
"What's... what?" Sam asked, walking back into the room and hearing the Doctor's last word, not sure he wanted to know the answer.
"We're in Peru!" the Gallifreyan informed him. "Same time frame that I programmed but completely the wrong place. And that's not possible."
"I thought we were going to New Mexico. Can't we just skip Peru?" Sam asked, a little down that he still hadn't made it home.
"You don't get it, Samuel. We're in Peru!"
"Yeah... and?" He sighed. "I just want to go home."
"And I want you to go home. I really do. I made absolute sure that the coordinates were correct and that the TARDIS would land in New Mexico. Even her being an old ship would not account for the coordinates being this off twice since I met you, especially since they've been fairly accurate for the last several centuries. Well... it did land in 1869 instead of 1969 but I think that was my fault."
"Well then, why don't we just reset the coordinates and leave?" Sam questioned.
"Oh, but where's the fun in that?" the Doctor questioned, his attitude instantly changing. "We're here, aren't we? Let's go out and explore! Besides, Glad's never been to Peru. Have you?" he called back, pleased that Glad had already followed him down the ramp. "Stop being a spoiled sport, Sam! You'll love it!"
Before Sam could say anything, the Doctor and Glad left the TARDIS to find themselves standing in the middle of a well-adorned living room. The Gallifreyan frowned, looking around the room with intense eyes. "I know this place," he murmured to himself, carefully walking around the room, his eyes searching.
"Sam?" Glad called back towards the timeship. "Come on!"
"I'm coming," he answered. He sighed once more and exited the TARDIS. "We were pulled off course to visit a living room? A Peruvian living room?"
"Not just any living room," the Time Lord told him. "I've been here before. Long time ago." He looked around again. "Still exactly the way I remember it. Which means..."
As he spoke, an elderly lady hurried into the room, a stunned look on her face. "Doctor?" she asked hesitantly but hopefully.
The Doctor gave her a half smile. "Doris," he greeted. A moment later, he found himself returning a hug from her.
Glad quickly moved behind Sam, uncertain about the strange woman that had come into the room. Her time in captivity had already told her that someone could appear to be friendly and be exactly the opposite. And though she wasn't afraid of other people anymore, she still wasn't comfortable without her support structure in place, namely either the Doctor or Sam within reaching distance.
Doris pulled away and held the Doctor's shoulders. "Let me look at you now. I like the look. It's a kind face." She smiled. "Hair's a bit wilder, though."
"Well, got to take the good with the good, eh?" He grinned widely at his words. "Last time I saw you I had long curly hair, right? Blimey, that was a while ago. You look absolutely lovely. Not a day over fifty," he complimented, causing the latter to blush slightly. He glanced around the room again. "Is Alistair around?"
Doris's face fell. "You wouldn't know, would you. Of course you wouldn't, flying around time and space like you do. It's amazing you can keep a schedule."
His own face dropped with concern. "Wouldn't know what?" Seeing her shake slightly, he took her arm and gently guided her to the nearest seat, kneeling in front of her so that he was at eye level. "Doris, what's wrong?"
"They've taken Alistair. Right off the street in downtown Lima. I don't know where he is."
The Doctor's eyes widened for a moment before lowering in sympathy, pulling her into his arms again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He took a slow breath, as if to gather his thoughts, before repeating, "I'm so sorry, Doris." Slowly, he stood up. "Need a pot of tea, I think. Good cuppa will at least make things a little more... manageable." He turned and started towards the kitchen.
Sam watched the situation unfolding. He knew Glad was still behind him. He could sense that this woman was no threat to her. As the Doctor walked out of the room, he introduced his host. "Ma'am? I'm Rose Tyler and this is Glad Thatcher. Are you saying this Alistair has been kidnapped?"
"My husband," Doris clarified. "Why would anyone want to kidnap him? He's a good man." She swallowed down her anxiety quickly. "You travel with him, don't you? The Doctor."
Sam nodded. "I have been recently."
Doris looked at the younger girl, a small smile on her face. "A bit shy?" she questioned. "It's okay. You don't have to talk to me if you don't want to."
Even as she spoke, the sound of the Imaging Chamber door announced Al's arrival. "Oh, Sam! We were so worried about you! Where were you for the past three weeks?"
Sam's head turned towards his dapper friend. "Three weeks?" he questioned. "It's been three weeks?"
Glad burrowed deeper into Sam's shoulder.
"The girl hasn't spoken in three weeks?" the elderly woman questioned. "Oh, you poor dear!"
Al rolled his eyes at her words. "Sam, is there some place we can talk in private without Miss Marple?"
Sam looked back at Doris, a confused look on his face. Suddenly he realized what she'd said. "Um, no. Glad speaks fine. I just was thinking the last place I went with the Doctor, I was gone three weeks."
Glad peeked around. "Don't let him fool you. He was talking to his imaginary friend."
"Oh?" Doris questioned, looking at Sam with raised eyebrows.
"I'm not imaginary! I'm just... hard to see," Al protested. He looked at his best friend. "Sam..." he nudged verbally.
Sam licked at his lips and he turned and gave Glad a glare. Turning back to Doris, he tried to explain. "If you've been around the Doctor, which you obviously have, then you know things can get a little caca... in fact..." He suddenly noticed the scent of something burning. It was coming from the kitchen. "Excuse me..." As he started moving towards the other room, Glad clung to him harder. "Glad, I think the Doctor needs me."
"But..." she started.
"What am I?" Al questioned. "Chopped liver?"
Sam rolled his eyes at Al. "I'm sure Doris won't hurt you, Glad. Al will let me know if you need me. Let me help him."
Doris gave her a small smile. "It's okay, dear," she encouraged. "Just wait here while Rose goes and checks on him." She sniffed the air. "Smells like something's burning."
Glad reluctantly let Sam go, looking suspiciously at Doris. She still wasn't sure but she knew Sam wouldn't lie to her.
Al sighed in frustration. "Sam..." he started, watching the physicist leave the room. "Great. Three weeks out of the loop and he leaves me to babysit."
Sam, meanwhile, went into the kitchen. He saw the Doctor standing and staring, apparently not even aware of what was going on about him. "Doctor?" Sam began.
The Doctor didn't move, his back towards Sam, his hands using the counter as a support, as if he wouldn't be able to stand without it.
Sam moved closer to the man who'd in the short time he'd known him had become a friend. He put a hand on the Time Lord's shoulder. "Doctor, what's wrong?"
The Gallifreyan pulled away quickly, startled by the touch. Turning his head to see the source, he sniffed and quickly wiped his face with one hand, removing the telltale evidence that told he had been crying. "Sam," he said quietly. He sniffed again and grimaced. "Aww! What's that smell?" He quickly identified the source of the stench being the kettle on the stove. "Nothing worse than burned tea! How idiotic am I? You don't rip open the tea bags and dump the leaves into the kettle! You'd think I'd never made tea before." Grabbing a potholder, he pulled the kettle off of the stove and put it in the sink, turning the water on to cool it. "Let's see… Doris has a spare kettle somewhere around here."
"This isn't about tea," Sam press gently.
"What isn't?" the Doctor hedged.
"Everything that's happened with you since we materialized here. This has something to do with someone named Alistair. Who is he?" He nodded towards the living room. "And who is she?" he finished.
The Time Lord started another kettle, being careful to not make the same errors as before. "Brigadier General Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, retired. She's his wife, Doris," he answered.
Sam nodded. "You know something about this, don't you." He'd experienced knowing something in an original history that no one else did and, at this moment, all the signs were pointing to the Doctor being in that situation.
The Gallifreyan swallowed tightly at his words. "Yes," he answered bluntly, his focus on pulling down the rest of the items needed for making tea, including a very colorful cozy for the teapot.
"Was Alistair one of your companions? Before he met Doris?" Sam thought back to Harry and Sally.
He chuckled slightly at Sam's words. "More like the bane of my existence for three miserably marvelous years. He was so bloody thick at times I just wanted to lock him in a cupboard until he saw things properly."
Sam smiled lightly. "A friend." He thought back to the times when he was back at the project and he and Al were working on something together. The physicist recognized the same familiarity in the way the Doctor talked about this man.
"Yeah," the Doctor agreed softly. "Close friend. About five hundred years ago... Well, five hundred years for me... the Time Lords put me on trial, found me guilty of breaking the First Law of Time, and exiled me to Earth. I already knew the Brigadier from a previous visit. When I was exiled, we came to an arrangement where he would provide me with supplies and a lab so I could try to figure out how to get the TARDIS working again. In exchange, I became a scientific advisor for the military organization he headed. Three years later, after helping the Time Lords with a bit of a problem, they lifted the exile. But by then, Alistair had become a dear friend."
"First Law of Time?" Sam asked. "There are laws?"
The Doctor winced. "I wasn't very good at keeping them. Have to be now, though. No one to pick up the pieces except for me."
Sam tilted his head. "What's the first law?"
"Thou shalt not interfere," the Time Lord paraphrased. "Never did keep that law. I interfere all the time. Well... when things can be interfered with."
Sam huffed a breath. "That's all I've done since I started leaping."
The Gallifreyan gave him a dark look. "You're different than me. You interfere knowing exactly how history played out. You interfere with things that shouldn't be touched." His eyes grew soft at his own words. "One cannot change time deliberately. Even if you want to. Especially if you want to." Hearing the kettle whistle, the Gallifreyan pulled the now-boiling water from the stove. He poured a little into the teapot, swirled it around and then dumped it in the sink. He then filled the teapot with the water and added several teabags to let them steep while he arranged the teapot, cups and saucers on a tray.
Sam shook his head. "It depends," he told the Doctor as he worked. "That's what I'm sent to do." He thought back to Maggie's death and Al's longer incarceration when he'd saved his brother. "Sometimes the price is too high."
"The price is always too high. Trust me on that." He took a couple of deep breaths, neither of which seemed to help the rising anger he was feeling. Grabbing a cup, he threw it across the room, shattering it against a cabinet door. Seeing what he had done, he gave a sick laugh. "Don't think Doris is going to be too happy with me about that."
Doris came running. "What happen..." She saw the shards of china on the ground and looked to the Doctor. "Why…?" she trailed off.
Al abruptly appeared in the kitchen, his eyes wide. "Sam, what the hell is going on in here? Glad is all worked up and I'm sure the old lady is about to call the cops!"
The Doctor ran his hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Doris," he told her. "I'll clean it up and get you a new one." He crouched down and started to pick up the shards.
Doris watched the Doctor and lowered herself beside him. She put her hands over his. "You're worried too."
The Time Lord slowly raised his head, looking into her eyes. "Terrified," he admitted. With a shaky breath, he pulled her tightly against him, letting his pent up emotions release as she brushed his hair.
Sam moved over to Al. "Have Ziggy check out Brigadier General Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, retired."
"Oh, his mother must have hated him, giving him a name like that," Al commented, punching buttons on the handlink, keeping his voice low as he remembered that the Doctor could hear him as well. "Here we are. Sir Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart. Same one, I'm assuming, as Ziggy can't find a record of anyone else with that name. Not that anyone else would likely be given the name. Ziggy said that statically, that's about as unique as you can get." Seeing Sam's glare, he looked down at the handlink and continued. "Let's see… member of the British Navy since he was old enough to join… Good choice for a career, if you ask me. I'm liking this guy already. Rose through the ranks to Brigadier General and became head of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce... Oh... Now it's called the Unified Intelligence Taskforce. Apparently, the United Nations will flip the bill but doesn't want their name involved. Retired in the mid-eighties. Brought back out of retirement temporarily in the late eighties. Retired again. Knighted by the Queen. Spent his retirement going back and forth from England to Peru." He hesitated. "Uh-oh," he muttered.
"Uh-oh? That doesn't sound good, Al."
"No, it isn't," the Admiral agreed. "Two days ago, Sir Alistair was kidnapped while on a trip to Lima. Snatched right off the street in full view of twenty witnesses. No one saw who grabbed him but the general consensus was that they were rebel fighters. There were no leads on where they took him. He's finally found in forty-eight hours. Dead from a gunshot wound to the back of his skull."
As Sam listened, his face blanched. He nodded. "What does Ziggy show as odds I'm here to change that?"
"Ninety-eight percent chance you're here to keep Lethbridge-Stewart from being killed," Al answered. "Provided that you are allowed to do what you need to do, that is." The Admiral nodded towards the Doctor, who clung to Doris as he sobbed.
Glad had finally moved into the kitchen. She saw the Doctor obviously upset and talking with the woman. Sam was talking into thin air. Glad felt totally alone. She decided to go back into the TARDIS. At least she felt safe there.
Sensing Glad's presence, the Doctor turned his head towards the door. Sniffing slightly, he slowly stood up. "I'm going to... go check on Glad," he told Doris, ignoring Sam's conversation with Al. "It's a pretty rough time for her right now. I'll... clean up the cup later." He slowly walked out of the kitchen, passing Sam and Al without a second glance as the two continued.
"I'll do it, Al," Sam told his holographic friend. "That's probably why I leapt in so soon."
"What do you mean, so soon? You've been floating around in Rose Tyler's aura for over two months now."
Sam nodded to the Doctor. "I mean if I'm going to do this, he can't try to stop me." He stayed in thought for a moment. "Al, go back and get everything you can on what happened with this Alistair. I mean everything. Have Ziggy work on it exclusively if necessary."
His friend nodded at the instruction. "Will do," he replied, punching the orders into the handlink. "Mind you, this was only a short while ago so it could be a bit difficult getting everything from the British and Peruvian governments but..." He gave Sam another nod as he opened the Imaging Chamber door. "What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to convince the Doctor that I've found my mission." He turned to the woman that was on the floor, picking up the shards. "Ma'am, stay strong. I'm sure that Alistair will be back safe." He followed after the Doctor and the young girl, determination permeating him.
"Good luck," Al answered with a hint of disbelief that Sam could convince the Doctor of anything. Stepping through the Imaging Chamber door, he shook his head slightly before disappearing.