Disclaimer: I still don't own Stargate or Quantum Leap, so if anyone wants to sue me they'll lose cos I in't got nuffin!!

The treat of the day for all you wonderful reviewers is: Jaffa Cakes. On second thoughts... no, here have some Maltesers. The Jaffa cakes are mine, all mine I tell you!!! Mwahahahahaa 'cough' um... :)

NB. This chapter has been revised.

Jumper Prime: I bow to your infinite knowledge! I admit that it's been a long time since I saw either the LHO episode or the one with the murderer (which is apparently called "Killin' Time") and freely confess that I both muddled them up and was so certain that I didn't check. Bad Soph! Thank you :)

"Good morning, Admiral!"

Al raised an eyebrow, but responded in kind all the same. "Good morning, Colonel. You're sounding very cheery today."

"I caught up on the Simpsons last night, sir – haven't had a chance to watch them in months."

Jack had been offered three-cheese ravioli for dinner the night before – weird for prison food, but at least it went halfway to proving he was still on Earth. The other half of the proof had come when he'd asked the air where the john was, thinking that no alien species would understand that, and a shower/toilet room had been revealed. Finally he'd wished out loud for the Simpsons, which he had greatly enjoyed before the lights went down and he fell asleep, pondering who the hell had captured him and why.

Now, having showered and dressed in a white t-shirt and baggy pants provided by a sexy sounding woman named Ziggy – not that he'd seen her, but he figured he might be able to talk her into freeing him if they ever crossed paths – Jack was sitting cross-legged on the bed, trying to figure out what his next move should be. Al beat him to it.

"What's the last date and time you remember, Colonel?"

"Excuse me?"

"It's a simple question, with a simple answer don't you think?" The funny little man replied brightly.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'm being held in a place without windows. I don't know how I got here, how long I've been here or where I am, and you're asking me what day it is?"

"Yes."

"Well I'm afraid that I don't feel like answering your question at this moment in time, Admiral."

Every ounce of sarcasm that he could muster went into that response, hoping to get a bite from the other man. Someone who was angry was usually someone who would make a mistake, and since he figured that Al wouldn't have come in at all if he'd hung around the door with a makeshift weapon, baiting the guy was his best shot for freedom.

Al didn't bite. Instead...

"Ziggy, could we have some coffee in here please?"

There was no response, but Al didn't seem too fazed. "She doesn't like me too much this morning – doesn't think I got enough beauty sleep. Don't worry though, the coffee will come along shortly. Have you had breakfast?"

Jack suddenly snapped back into military mode, his lazy morning session well and truly over. This man named Al, Admiral or not, was his only real link to the outside world at this point – though he was at least wearing something a bit more like a Navy summer uniform today.

"What am I doing here, sir? Where are we?"

He tried to make the words sound sincere, knowing that Al probably saw right through it.

"You're at a classified US Government facility in New Mexico, Colonel, as I indicated yesterday."

"With all due respect sir, you didn't answer the question and my clearance is pretty high."

Al sighed. "To be honest, your clearance is unlikely to make a difference because our visitors have a tendency to forget everything once they go home. Your honesty will. You are here because of a... mistake... that was made by my colleague a few years ago, Sam Beckett who I spoke about yesterday. He was a brilliant physicist who developed a way to see into the past via what he called a quantum accelerator, but when he tried it we... well, we lost him."

Jack didn't quite know what to make of this, though he was sure that Carter would have a better idea. He didn't like the idea of losing a man, but he had to give the guy credit for originality with this 'seeing the past' baloney.

"What do you mean – you lost him?"

Just then the coffee arrived via a kind of food slot, which Jack could see was a welcome relief to the Admiral – so much so that for the first time in his life, a superior officer served Jack coffee. Then again if this Sam guy was his best friend, as he'd said before, Jack could relate to that. If, on the other hand, he was playing for sympathy... Well either way, he hadn't decided what to do yet since he didn't know what the guy wanted from him – if anything. He obviously wanted some sort of cooperation, but what?

"This is very hard to explain, but I'll try. Sam had to step into the accelerator for it to work, and the idea was that it would allow him to switch bodies with someone for a short period of time."

"Uh-huh?" Jack wasn't impressed. "Sort of like 'Invasion of the Body Snatchers'?"

"Exactly," Al did a double take. "Well no, not really. Please don't put words in my mouth."

"Sorry, sir," Jack smiled sarcastically. "And where do I come in?"

Al cleared his throat and took a sip of coffee. "The guy who Sam swapped with arrived here, in what we call the Waiting Room –"

"Excuse me?" Jack was incredulous. Stargates and Goa'uld were one thing – body snatching was quite another. It was almost... snake-like. "Are you telling me that some guy has bounced on in and stolen my body? What kind of idiot do you think I am?"

Al sat there, silently. Jack suddenly decided not to push his luck with an unknown but potentially senior officer though, since his record was shaky enough already when it came to dealing with authority. The guy may be trying to wind him up, but he wasn't going to get satisfaction – not yet anyhow.

"I apologise, please go on. Sir."

The other man crossed the room and stood closer to the bed, removing coffee tray from the small table.

"Apology accepted. Do you mind if I sit here?"

Jack shook his head impatiently.

"Look, as I was saying..." Al was taking his time. "What we found was that Sam had done what he set out to do, but with side effects that no one had predicted. This other guy, a test pilot from the 1950s, was here and Sam was way back there. I know it sounds crazy but it's true. And the trouble was that the guy in the Waiting Room looked just like Sam, so I thought he was kidding around for while. It took the guy hours to convince me that he wasn't Sam, and now it takes me hours to convince people like you that I'm not crazy – ha!"

'Not quite as crazy as travelling to all sorts of wacky planets and killing parasitic aliens,' Jack said to himself, thinking that there was no harm in listening. If the guy was nuts or just plan lying, he could always either knock him out or take him hostage.

Al seemed to realise that Jack wasn't going to say a word, and carried on.

"We could deal with that, up until the point that we realised we couldn't bring Sam back using the accelerator. Up until that point, the whole thing was assumed to be completely targetable and reversible you see. It was designed as an observation mechanism, not – as you called it – a body-snatching machine."

"Right – but if the US Government funded this project," Jack waited for Al to nod before continuing. "Surely they didn't just want to observe – if they could, let's say, substitute one person for another couldn't they change history? Sounds wacko, but then the Manhattan Project scientists thought they'd be saving the world."

Al looked grim. "Yeh, well obviously you're more cynical than I am – I didn't see that one until they came out and said it. By then though, we'd lost Sam yet again. He'd moved on – 'Leaped' as we call it – and there was someone else in the Waiting Room, someone from a completely different year. It's been going on for a while now. Every time he does it we hope he'll Leap himself right back here, but it hasn't happened yet."

Jack laughed out loud now. This was better than the Simpsons.

"Ok, so now you are saying that this Sam guy – is in my body. A 'brilliant physicist', no less. You have got to be kidding! How does he move about?"

The man on the table didn't look so happy. "I'm glad that you find this funny Colonel, because I sure don't. I can see it your way though, because it isn't the world's most logical story."

"Y'think?" Jack smirked. "I'd have less trouble believing you if you'd met some little grey men!"

Strangely, the two men shared a smile at this point. Jack couldn't help it – the guy seemed to be on his wavelength – but he was still captive, and so he wasn't about to sit down and make friends with a loon who claimed to be a Navy Admiral. Shame he didn't bite on the opportunity to chat about the Asgard though.

"Come on then, out with the rest of the story. Do we get to save the world at the end of this one too?" His words were designed to show his impatience.

"Yes and no. We have no idea why, but every time Sam Leaps he has to do something different to the original history, to put something right if you get my meaning. It can be anything from saving someone's life to stopping them from committing a crime – we never really know until the person turns up in the waiting room, and even then we have to pinpoint when and where Sam, plus the Leapee's circumstances, before we can help him out. When he's fixed things, he moves on."

Al fell silent, and Jack raised an eyebrow.

"You don't believe me, do you?" The Admiral asked.

"No, I don't sir. Permission to speak freely?"

Al nodded, a resigned look on his face.

"With all due respect, who do you think you're trying to kid? Changing the past to make it better? Helping out the little people through some cosmic time machine?"

"I know, it sounds like a pile of bull, but we have managed a few major things like saving Jackie Kennedy's life."

Jack was incredulous. "Oh yeh, and how was that?"

"Sam Leaped into Lee Harvey Oswald, that's how," Al shrugged. "It was freaky having him in here, and we obviously didn't manage to save JFK, but it worked because in the original history they both died."

"Right..."

"Look I can't make you believe me, and you're right in one way – it does tend to be helping the little people. To be honest the Appropriations Committee would love to shut us down just because of that. They tried to once, saying that a few run-ins with people like Elvis and Dr Heimlich didn't make a blind bit of different, but that was something else that Sam managed to change."

Al chuckled as he remembered the sudden change in the politicians as he sat before them in a hearing. One minute they had condemned Project Quantum Leap, the next they'd awarded more funding – it had been a classic!

"Well that's something I can sympathise with, Admiral, I'm not a fan of politicians either." Jack replied, trying to figure out whether this guy believed in what he was saying. "So, er, how do you get hold of your man? Once you've found him, so to speak."

"Via the Imaging Chamber," the other man replied. "It's a huge cavern below the Project. I walk in with my handset and Ziggy beams a neurological hologram back to Sam's brain out there in the past – "

Jack started laughing out loud, wiping tears from his eyes.

"No look Colonel, I don't even pretend to understand it myself. He sees and hears me, I see and hear what's going on around him – except I can't touch anything and people have a tendency to walk through me. It's a weird feeling, let me tell you, gives me the heebie-jeebies. Colonel?"

"Jeez you guys have come up with a cracker here, haven't you?" Jack couldn't help himself now. "You've got all the answers!"

"Yeh, well, I'm glad you think so," Al shot back, finally showing his own teeth. "If I had all the answers I'd be chatting to Sam, not a moron like you."

"Touché, Admiral," was Jack's response, still laughing. "But I'm just trying to imagine this Sam guy passing himself off as me. I mean, surely people can tell the difference? And my people? Well I have a couple of bona fide geniuses on my team, plus it's a very secure installation – your friend would find himself in the lock-up pretty darn quick. So why don't you just come clean, cut the crap and tell me what's really going on?"

"Colonel, I have told you the truth – and the sooner you believe it the sooner you'll be out of here," Al stated bluntly. "If we don't know where or when Sam is, we can't guide him out of there and you can't go home. Now we've tried to analyse what we know of your background, but the details are pretty sketchy since you're a covert kinda guy – am I right?"

"If you say so, sparky."

"Ha ha." Al didn't sound like he was amused. "Our first thought was – and I hope you'll forgive me for bringing this up but circumstances demand it – the death of your son."

Jack's face became granite. How dare this funny little man in a shitty suit mention Charlie? He flexed his hands, testing each muscle in case he felt the urge to grab this idiot by the throat.

"I'm sorry, Jack, but our scan couldn't place Sam anywhere near your family home for six months either side of that tragic event. It obviously isn't his mission to change that, at least not right now."

Hmm, so they were on a real first name basis now, eh? Hell of a time to choose.

"Leave the dead alone, Al. I'm warning you, here and now."

Al nodded, his face sombre now.

"Colonel, I've been as honest as I can with you. I've told you as much about Project Quantum Leap as I can to try to convince you – and all I need in return is your last known whereabouts and the date. That's all, ok? I'm not going to torture you, and I'm not even going to drug you – I can't, and even if some bigwig had given permission for me to do so, I wouldn't. Please, just help me out here?"

Jack was still pissed, in fact even more so than he had been when he'd woken up.

"Al, I don't know what you're playing at but I do know this. Even if I gave you those answers, you wouldn't be able to do much with them. As you already mentioned so casually, I'm a covert kinda guy. I work in secret places. If this is a secret place, mine is probably more secret. And if he's there pretending to be me your friend Sam will be found out, with or without your precious help."

"You could be right, Colonel, you could be right – but he has gotten out of some tricky spots before now, and I am not going to give up on him just yet." Now it was Al's turn to be vehement. "Ziggy will probably find him, eventually – she's a computer, did you realise that? – but your cooperation would speed things up."

A snort was all the response that Al received.

"Fine. Ziggy?"

"Yes, Admiral." That sexy voice was back.

"Could you please tell the Colonel a little about yourself?"

"Oh, I can't wait to hear this," Jack muttered.

"Certainly, Admiral. Colonel O'Neill, I am a parallel hybrid computer designed by Dr Samuel Beckett in early to mid-1990s. My purpose is to monitor and evaluate the performance of Project Quantum Leap, and to record all data from the original history and subsequent changes as a result of Dr Beckett's activities. I also research probable reasons for Dr Beckett's Leaps and assess possible means for him to complete his mission."

"So you're really all that are you?" Jack didn't bat an eyelid. "And what's your assessment of this so-called Leap?"

"To save the life of one Colonel Jonathon O'Neill, reported dead in this morning's memo from the Cheyenne Mountain Complex to the Oval Office."

"WHAT?!"

The yell came from Al, watched by a cynical Jack who muttered only, "Oh please..."

"Who is the President of the United States, Jack?"

"Excuse me?" Al seemed pretty jumpy now, and if Jack weren't so certain that he was being stitched up he'd have been convinced by that act alone.

"Just answer the damn question. Who is the President?"

"Bill Clinton, though he might not be for much longer from what I hear."

"Ziggy." Al's words were a command now, not a question.

"Correlation found. Starr Report published September 11th 1998, recommending impeachment of President Clinton. Focussing search on Cheyenne Mountain Complex, dates 11th to today, 25th September 2004. Security database confirms Colonel Jonathan O'Neill employed under General George Hammond, project unknown. Access denied. Access denied. Access denied."

"$%&£!" Al swore. "Keep at it Ziggy, I'll come give you a hand in a moment, ok?"

Jack looked on with an amused expression on his face. He really didn't know what to make of this any more, what with all these dates being bandied about and presumably an attempt to tell him that he was due to die on a few days. For all he knew it was the 25th by now, but his brain was telling him it must be the 20th – not much difference either way, and besides it would take a hell of a lot for anyone to hack into the SGC computers.

Then there was this cockamamie story that only made sense if you were a little cuckoo. Al was a pretty good actor too – Jack was willing to concede that – but he wasn't about to say a damn thing. Shame they'd gotten him with the President question, but really what had it gained them? And anyone with access to the combined Forces database could locate him at Cheyenne Mountain right now. It was this whole past/future bit he didn't get. Was he supposed to believe that he was almost a week ahead of himself? For crying out loud...

"Hey Al."

"Yes, Jack."

"How did you say this Sam guy can pass himself off as me when he presumably doesn't even look like me again? I don't think I have any twin brothers out there..."

Al shook his head. "You didn't listen, did you? Sam looks and sounds exactly like whoever he's Leaped into, just like you look and sound exactly like him right now."

"Yeh right," Jack smirked. "So how come I don't feel any different?"

"He just looks like you, I didn't say he had your body. Your body is right here, I just can't see it because you're wearing his physical aura. And yes I know that sounds just as kooky as the rest of the story. Just a second –"he fished something from his back pocket. "Would you mind taking a look in this?"

It was a small mirror like one you'd find in a woman's purse, a cheap plastic number but a mirror all the same. Suppressing a tremor of nervousness, Jack snapped it open and took a good look.

"Nice hair-do," he said, fingering the reflection's white forelock, then testing the mirror with flashes of two, five, then three fingers. Each time the reflection matched his actions exactly – except they weren't his.

Jack's next move was decided a split second before it came. He smashed the mirror to the floor, grabbed a shard with his bare hands and then grabbed the Admiral, trapping the other man's arms behind his back with one hand and just grazing his jugular with the glass shard with the other.

"No more games, Admiral. Get me out of here."

"Project is now in lock-down."

The sexy voice wasn't quite the same any more, and Jack almost believed the computer story for a moment.

"What's happening, Al?" He pressed the shard in closer to emphasise the question.

"We once had a murderer who escaped while he was here Jack, so we programmed in some extra security measures. Ziggy's an intelligent computer with full control over the facility, and under these circumstances I can't override her. Everyone in here, including me and you, is trapped until you calm down and drop your weapon."

"Yeh, right," said Jack wryly. "Well at least you're showing your true colours now."

Next chapter: The Briefing Room.