Chapter 22

When they finally returned to the hotel, Sam simply fell into bed, cuddling as close to Al as he could, drinking in every soothing word and touch. Still, even with his lover's protective body next to him, he felt that shaky feeling in the pit of his stomach, not quite as bad as before, but persistent and a constant.

"It's coming back, isn't it?" Al whispered, kissing Sam softly on the cheek.

"Yes." Sam melted in the strong arms around him, burying his face against Al's chest. "I'll check in with 'Bena when I go home, I promise, but just hold me now and don't worry. I had enough of that all afternoon from the Draytons and Edward to last a lifetime. The only person who was just... there. . .was Kyle. And, Al, he brought up a very important point."

"Before you tell me, is this bad news or good?"

"Bad, I think, if it's true." The nerves had quelled, soothing into the background with each word. It seemed to help when he talked, distracted his mind from it.

"Tell me." Al fell back on his side of the bed, eyes still on Sam's sober face.

"Kyle...and I, think the government may have the Imaging Process already and aren't saying anything. Hell, they have the Accelerator-that was something we couldn't prevent. What if tearing down the Project, and all you've heard is just a smoke screen to keep us from finding out what they're going to do with it? Just because they plowed it under, and gave us all the information we own, doesn't mean they didn't copy everything."

"It's been in the back of my mind, too, kid." A line of worry crossed the brown eyes for a moment, his hand coming up to brush against Sam's face, sliding down to rest on his shoulder. "I don't think they're ready to implement a damned thing, and they can't use the Accelerator without Ziggy. You brought all that stuff home and erased most of the data, putting the majority of it in that head of yours. That's one of the reasons I asked Kyle to stick with you like glue."

"They can't get it from me by force—that's against the law. I have rights, and we own Ziggy. She's ours, and they damn well can't have her. We'll fight them in court, if necessary."

"That's if we can prove they want to use the information, Sam." Al gathered the man in his arms, hearing the growing agitation in his voice. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

The Canadians were more than generous, eager to have the Imaging Process demonstrated in their country. They promised complete cooperation, and would inform every single media organization in the world when the demonstration took place.

"Now, for a venue." Edward leaned over the lunch table, the excitement plainly showing on his face. "I own a place in Edmonton that might do."

"Edmonton, Alberta?" Sam's eyes widened, glancing at Al; no help there. Puffing on that damned cigar. Old habits die hard. "That's the middle of nowhere."

"Not necessarily." Kevin was suspecting something, but couldn't quite voice it. "It's world renowned, especially for it's mall. The biggest one in the world, so large it has a roller coaster—full size, mind you. We went there on one of our rare vacations."

"Too rare," Carol said dryly.

"I own it," Edward said, reddening slightly. "It would be perfect—the size of eight or ten, cannot remember, football fields. I'd be willing that people would flock there to see a full size replica of a rain forest. Once we break ground there, the other venues in the States will come. Also, I made a phone call, and Sony is expressing interest in the Imaging Process for commercial use."

"Been doing a little of that myself," Al replied, slipping the cigar from his mouth. "We've got Hitachi, Sony, and, believe it or not, BASF. I suggest we get something written up and share the damned thing."

"Kevin, you give me feedback on this." Sam locked gazes with the other man, grinning at the surprised look he received. "Neither Al or I want anyone to have exclusive rights to the Imaging Process, or the holography. It should be all or no one. In the long run the profits will be larger, and everyone will benefit."

Startled by seeing the old Sam Beckett peek out, and suddenly show himself with such enthusiasm, Kevin gave his wife a pleased glance. "If Carol is willing, I think that's a great idea, Sam. A little generous, but you're right."

Edward eyed the men skeptically. It wasn't good business sense to share the exclusive technique, something that couldn't be duplicated without losing something in the translation, but realized he was working with a different breed here, people that cared about others and not their pocketbook. "Al is in charge of business matters, but I can assist if you like, so you can concentrate on other aspects of this."

"Now, we can't place all of it on your shoulders." Al wanted nothing more than to give Edward the whole damned thing and work with Sam on the EarthSafe program.

"I have hundreds of people that will do the work for me, Albert. If you feel you can trust me to take the best interests of this process into consideration, then I can have my people make the arrangements. The process can be in general use in less than a year."

Sam gave his friend a nod, leaning back in his chair. Drayton shrugged, Carol's arm coming around, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I guess it's in your hands," Al said, with a touch of relief. "Sam and I have to work on EarthSafe, the whole hands on thing, most of which we can do at home with the computer."

"Then, that's that." Edward looked pleased. "We can all go home now with a clear conscience, that we've done the best we can here. I should have the arrangements for the mall in the next twenty-four hours or so, but don't plan anything for another couple of months, at least." He sighed. "I have a flight out this afternoon-business at home, I'm afraid."

"Nothing bad, I hope," Sam said.

"I must return, Samuel. Just a minor business glitch, they say, but it requires my presence."

"And, we're driving back to Cambridge." Carol glanced at Kevin. "The kids have probably destroyed the place."

"How many now?" Sam asked, cupping his chin in his hands, remembering earlier times, and how Kevin had been so reluctant to have children until the first one came along.

"Four. Two boys, two girls, like always, Sam." Kevin frowned as Sam paled at the revelation. "They've been there for ten years-Revenna is almost in high school."

"I thought... two. Revenna and Mac, but..."

"Sam has some residual memory loss from the Leaps, Kevin, " Al said quickly, covering his friend's confusion. "Nothing he won't eventually recover from."

"Al, I have a question for you." Carol eyed Sam with the faintest bit of fury. "Did this idiot tell you he was going to do what he did, or did he just hop in and go?"

"What would Kev have done?" Al replied smoothly, answering her question with one of his own.

"Sam Beckett, you deserve a real good kick in the butt," she said, rapping his shin with her foot under the table. "Memory loss should be the less of your problems. It could've been a funeral."

"Well, it wasn't, and I'm getting there, so .let's drop it." The look in Al's eyes was shaded by his dark glasses, but Sam knew in his heart that had been utmost on the other man's mind. The older man had said little about his initial Leap since he'd come home. He dreaded when he did.

"We'll have to get going ourselves, Sam." The surprised look that crossed his friend's face spoke volumes, relief, and a touch of excitement. "I made a promise- our plane is waiting at an airfield outside of Dulles." He grinned at Kyle, who had sat silently at the table during their conversation. "You have your tickets for the commercial flight tomorrow. I'll take care of Sam. You did a great job."

"Thank you, sir. I'll see you both, soon. Take care."

They said their goodbyes, picked up their luggage from the hotel, and grabbed a cab to the airfield. The Cessna waited, fueled and ready, spanking white with blue trim. "Who's is this?"

"You bought a bike, I...got this a while ago. Surprised?"

"It's yours?"

"We're going to need it. I've been keeping it with Tony, and he flew her in here from Florida this morning. What do you think of it, Sam? She's state of the art, not too many hours on her." As he spoke, Al slid his hand along the sleek line of the aircraft, smiling to himself. "I've only had her in the air a couple of times, before you leaped. She's all ours, Sam. We're going to need our own plane sometimes. I can keep it stored at Alamogordo, and we can take her out whenever we want. You can even get your pilot's license. I'm still qualified to teach."

"I'll think about that. I remember my first lesson." There was something exactly right seeing Al with a plane, and the change that came over the man, making him seem so much like the young Navy pilot he had once been. "This is great, Al. Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"She was waiting around for the right moment. I leased her out to Tony's company for a while, which is why we couldn't use the plane to go to Canada that time. Tony had one plane in his fleet for a while, then business picked up. He doesn't need mine anymore, and I'm ready to take it off his hands. Thought I'd pull her out when I retired."

"No more commercial flights," Sam grinned, pleased at the thought.

"Except when we go overseas. She'll make it to Hawaii, and anything domestic, though."

Eager as a kid with a new toy, Al tossed the luggage on board and readied the plane for takeoff. Sam took a seat in the co-pilot's chair, buckling in without encouragement. The now-familiar twinging in his gut that signaled another attack was absent as he watched Al talk to the tower and do a pre- flight check. In minutes, they were airborne, dipping once over D.C. before heading west.

Concentrating on his piloting, Al didn't notice as Sam slid next to him, shoulder to shoulder, watching the view from the pilot's windows. As his sleeve brushed Al's shoulder, the older man turned to smile at his friend. "I'll show you some of the gadgets." Reaching over, Al switched on a small screen. "Full satellite coverage, all the way to Alamogordo, or wherever we go. I can have you work on the programming when you get that spare moment. I could do it, but I think you'll have more fun with it. Sam, she's ours. We share everything from here on out, and that's why you have to learn to fly it. It'll be second nature to you, once you learn."

"I'll dc anything you want, Al. This is really ours; I can hardly believe we own a damned plane."

"I've got money put away, Sam. Didn't need much when you were leaping, and before. Spent most of our time at the Project." He reached over and switched on the autopilot. "Sam, I put the account in both our names, like yours. Right down to names on the checks, the whole nine yards. You've never changed your account over from the years you were gone, and I kind of wondered at that."

"I didn't see the point."

"So, I fixed things up, Sam. I don't want you to take this the wrong way, kid. I'm a lot older than you, almost twenty years. I've been doing some thinking, since that party, and seeing the guys getting older. Maybe, when I go..."

"Stop it." Sam tried to slide his hands from Al's and felt himself held still, forcing his eyes up. "I don't want to talk about this, Al. Not now."

"We have to do it, no matter when. Statistically, I'll probably end up out of this long before you do. I don't like hearing you can't live without me, because, eventually, you'll have to. Like flying this plane. On the leaps, you listened, and didn't ask a question when I practically ordered you to do something. You flew the X-2, and did things you thought you were incapable of. Sam, nothing's impossible, even living past me. Now, that I've gotten that crap out of my system. I'm going to take us home."

"Why are you doing this to me?" The pain in Sam's voice was plain as he stood, wrapping his arms around himself. "Damn you, Al." Tears brimmed and poured down his cheeks. "Don't ever ask me that again." He turned on his heel and went from the front of the aircraft to sit in the back, wiping his eyes as he stared out at nothing. He felt cold and dead, even the thought of losing Al at this point so painful he couldn't put it into words. Lashing out at the other man had not helped one iota. The panic touched a chord in his mid-section, pressing his forehead against the cool Plexiglas of the window, trying his best to wipe the tears away that were burning his eyes.

"Sam?" The sight of the slumped form huddled against the window tore Al's heart to shreds. "I'm sorry. My timing isn't the best. After all you've been through this week, I guess I should've not let all that slip out like it did."

"Who's flying the plane?"

"The autopilot, for a while. I won't have to do anything fancy for an hour or so. Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, apology accepted. You reminded me of something I don't want to think about. Take your own advice and cross that bridge when we come to it." Sam turned, flashing the other man with a furious look. "Make out your damned will, do what you want, but don't tell me about it. I can't take the thought of that. I'll die with you, in a crash, or something like that, but not apart, Al. Let me do that, and don't force me to think about the unthinkable."

"Sam, sooner or later..."

"Knock it off, or I'm going to take a free fall out of this plane now." Damn it, Sam thought, I'm shaking again. And the fear, palatable as the taste of metal. He pressed his fist against his mouth as he turned back to the window, averting his eyes from the man standing over him.

"It's happening again, isn't it?" Crouching next to Sam, Al gently rubbed the other man's back, feeling the trembles that coursed through every muscle. "God, Sam. I really blew it this time."

"It's not so bad. Distracts me from what you said. Let's drop it, okay?" He shrugged away from Al's hand, curling more into himself. "Go up and front or I will get worse. I'll be up in a minute, so mellow out."

"I'm not leaving you until I know you're okay. You're not looking too good, Sam. "

"You've never seen the beginnings of it. Scares the hell out of me." He tried to grin, succeeding. "Al, I'll be fine. It's not a bad one this time, and if I need you I'll call out."

"Better'n that; I'm taking you up to the front where I can keep an eye on you." It wasn't difficult Co encourage Sam from the seat and up to the co-pilot's position, buckling him in securely before he returned to his seat. "See," he said, trying to break the ominous mood. "Still on course, right on the money."

"Good. Stay right there, Al, and just get us home." Settling in the seat, Sam felt the shivers fade away. Maybe it was just his friend's concern, and the casual way he treated his condition, but he seemed to be able to control the feeling better with him around. "And don't talk about dying. Not again, please."

"You got it, Sam," Al said tightly. He glanced once over at the younger man, feeling downright lousy about laying all that out so suddenly. Well, now it was a closed subject, and they were only an hour or two from home.

Landing in Alamogordo was a breeze, and driving home, making a quick stop at a fast food place for some dinner, made the events of the past three days fade. Sam was just glad to be in familiar territory again, making the worries slip out of his mind. He ate his burgers, gulping down the shake, grinning as Al playfully wiped the vanilla ice cream dripping down Sam's chin as he drove.

"I'd take you to this place every night if I knew you'd eat that much."

"Cheeseburgers." Sam took one last bite, dumping the wrapper in the bag. "Food of the Gods."

"I'll remember that. Here we are." Al pulled into the driveway, and turned off the engine. "You look pooped, Sam. Dead beat."

"I could crash out for a week," the other man commented, stretching as he got out of the car. Traveling always left him stiff and feeling like he had a year's worth of filth covering him. He took his bag from Al's hand, grinning at the look he received. "I'm able to move a lot better."

"I can see that. Stay away from your bike, Sam."

"There's always that." Shaking his head, Sam headed towards the open garage and plopped the bags on the stairs, unlocking the door.

Al went immediately to the bathroom, about ready to burst and Sam flopped on the bed, fully clothed, closing his eyes and nestling down on the familiar mattress.

"I was thinking we could..." Al frowned as he entered the bedroom, wiping his hands with a towel. Sam was sitting up on the bed, holding his pillow in his hands, staring at it as if it were alien to him. "I didn't get a chance to change the sheets, but I can..."

"I don't wear White Shoulders, Al." The green eyes that lifted to meet Al's were stricken, wide with betrayal. "You didn't tell me you and her were doing that on our bed."

Frowning, Al came around to face Sam, dropping the towel on the dresser. "I didn't think it mattered. Nothing happened. I told you..."

"Our home. Here. On our bed, holding that woman and kissing her." Hurling the pillow at Al, Sam practically threw himself from the bed, jumping and falling to the floor with the other man in a grip so tight it would bruise. He slammed Al's head against the throw rug once, then released him, stumbling from the room, hand's pressed over his eyes.

"Sam!" Ignoring the pain inflicted on his dignity and his head, Al stormed after the other man.

Standing braced against the kitchen counter, Sam didn't glance up once as Al entered the area, one hand still covering his eyes.

"Nothing happened, damn it! I've told you that before, and I wish for sweet Christ's sake..."

Hazel eyes flashed at Al in the dim light, hurt plainly showing in them. "In our bed? For some odd reason, Al, the fact that your encounter with her happened in our home somehow didn't come up in the conversation."

"It didn't seem a big deal, and I told you..."

"You told me shit, Al. You told me nothing. Not a damned thing. Now, for all I know, you made love to the Bitch." His voice had raised not an iota, grinding each word out with a grimace.

"Sam, it doesn't make a difference, because we didn't make love. No sex. I wish you'd remember that, damn it! She and I fell on the bed because it seemed the most convenient place, and for fuck's sake, Sam, that was it!"

Sam was looking decidedly unwell, a fine sheen of perspiration on his face. "You didn't tell me it happened here, Al; I feel so dead now, like I've been lied to. Damn it, it hurts, down to my guts."

"That's enough, Sam. The very end." The iciness in Al's voice made Sam look up. "I've cared for you, watched over every second of your rehab, and now I've finally reached the end of my rope. Kid, I love you, with every fiber of my being, don't get that wrong, but I damn well can't sit here and take the pity me shit anymore. I've done everything, Sam, and I can't cope. Not a bit." Sam was gasping over the counter, much to Al's growing annoyance. "Now cut that out, because I'm not Kevin, Carol, or even Edward. I'm a man who knows you better than yourself, and is just on the edge of kicking your butt to kingdom come. Now, stop it Sam, or I'll knock your head off. Stop it!"

Just at Al's words, the front door swung open, the startled and very angry gaze of Verbena's eyes practically drilling through the older man's body. To her uninitiated viewpoint, the psychiatrist could see Sam was practically hyperventilating, clutching the counter before him as if it would save him, and Al, for the most part, screaming to high heaven at the man.

For one moment, Al glanced up at the outraged Verbena. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Checking on Sam, which, obviously, was needed. Damn you, Al!" She ran across the room, grabbing the gasping man's shoulders. "What the hell are you yelling at him for? He's obviously in distress!"

"Bullshit. He needs someone to yell at him, and tell him to knock this crap off. It's...

"He..." Sam clenched himself against the gasping, wanting, demanding the control so he could tear against the fury that was filling him.

"It isn't going to work, Sam." Al let the torrent of words pour from him, ignorant of everything but the red haze of anger that filled him. It was irrational, but dispelling every ounce of pure frustration that was contained in his heart that he hadn't expressed in the last weeks.