Disclaimer: if anyone would like to sue me for stealing his or her ideas, please note that I can only offer second hand furniture as compensation.

Reviewers: you truly are stars – apologies if the story's fluffing a bit, I'm just trying to make them all get to the point in a vaguely realistic (i.e. round about) kind of way. The treat of the day is a Krispy Kreme doughnut of your choice!

September 25th 1998 – Project Quantum Leap

"What would it take for you to believe me, O'Neill?"

Jack roused himself from his dark, brooding thoughts and looked over toward 'Admiral Calavicci'.

"I believe they call it a miracle, Al," he replied dryly. "That's what it would take."

The other man let out a groan of dissatisfaction. "Give me strength!"

The pair of them had been shut in the Waiting Room for nearly 2 hours now, and Jack could see that his captor was becoming extremely restless. This was fine by him, because impatient people made mistakes. He knew that from experience, but it would be nice to pull the trick on someone else for once. He hadn't even let Al call up Ziggy for an update since Gooshie's last message, which seemed to be the man's most frequent request. Not that Gooshie had actually revealed anything useful that last time, but the contact had seemed to comfort funny man over here.

Now Al seemed to be suffering from some kind of withdrawal. Maybe he was a smoker, but it was more likely to be the lack of information that was stifling him. The story of having lost a friend might be true, but Jack still didn't believe that load of bull about why they needed to look for him at the SGC. He knew that solar flares and a Stargate could make a time machine, but he'd never heard Carter mention anything about time travel that made you swap places with someone – and if anyone would have heard of it, it would have been her. Nah, it was something else entirely and this guy just wanted to know more about the Stargate.

What bothered him most was how these guys had gotten hold of him. He clearly remembered running for the Stargate with those Jaffa from Hemlock, or whatever her name was, blasting away behind them. He'd dialled the DHD and Space Monkey had gone through with her 'precious' first of all, then Carter, and finally he'd gone through himself – except he'd woken up here instead of running into the Gate Room. Had they somehow diverted the signal to another Stargate? On Earth or elsewhere? Was it the NID or the Russians... or someone else? And did they have the rest of his team, or just him? This was really bugging him, though even if they did have all three of them that meant that Teal'c was still free.

This guy did seem to be from Earth, and from the US. He was a little unorthodox for an Admiral, but then he himself wasn't exactly your average Colonel. The only other voices he'd heard so far were those of Gooshie – world's unluckiest nickname, in his opinion – and Ziggy, who was allegedly a female thinking computer. Then there was the mysterious Tina, who apparently worked here but who seemed to mean something more to Al given the look on his face when he'd mentioned her earlier. Interesting. An office romance? Maybe more, if she wasn't military herself – could be another civilian consultant like Daniel. And the whole place was called 'Project Quantum Leap'. What the hell did that mean? Without Carter he had no chance of understanding that conundrum.

'Get back to business, O'Neill,' he reminded himself, snapping back to focus on Al. Somehow he'd landed in here, and this man was the one who could tell him how to get out, even if he did have to lean on the guy some more.

"Tell me again, one more time please Admiral? If you would be so kind?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well we don't have any other entertainment around here and I'm not especially willing to talk, so I may as well hear your fairy tale again and pick it to pieces." Jack smiled ingratiatingly. "I'm hell at the movies too, all I do is point out the big holes in the plot."

"If you didn't understand it the first time, I don't think you will now," Al replied condescendingly.

"Ooh, funny man wants to take the nasty Colonel down a peg or three. I'm not stupid, big shot, just dangerous when pissed."

"Typical Irish."

"Goddamned Italians."

Al rolled his eyes. "Look, if you want a bedtime story, we could probably ask Ziggy to send down a copy of Bambi – or would that make you cry?"

"No, it would not. The Wizard of Oz might be more fun though, now that you mention it."

"Oh, so we have a comedian here, do we? Well I'm glad you find this so funny, because I don't!"

"The only thing funny in here is your dress sense, Al."

Al's eyes narrowed to slits and his bushy eyebrows seemed to dominate his face. "Look, I don't pretend to understand everything that goes on in this place, especially the physics of it all, but I do know that it works and that it happens on a regular enough basis that if I question anything the proof is right before my eyes."

Jack had finally gotten what he wanted – a reaction from a frustrated man. He wasn't sure what he could do with it other than torment the guy, since Al was dead set that he couldn't open the door without Ziggy's say-so.

"Uh-huh, and there I was thinking that you were the man in charge," Jack responded blandly.

"With all due respect, Colonel," Al growled. "You are standing between me and the man in charge. And believe me, the only thing that's stopping me from breaking your nose right now is the fact that I would then have to look at my best friend's face with blood all over it."

"Oh, so you want to punch my lights out, do you? You're getting a little frisky for a desk jockey!"

That last phrase was a mistake, because it woke Al up to his overreaction. "Look pal, I'm not going to try to hit you because you've already proven that you can beat me. As for being the man in charge, I'm here because I believed in him and because he needed me make the project look good on paper. The US Government funds quite a few wacky sounding projects, but they still like to think that they're under the thumb."

Now Jack was waking up. It was true; the government did fund at least two 'wacky' projects that he already knew of – Stargate Command and Area 51 – not to mention the NID, however indirectly it was paid for. There was the possibility that there were others, but... nah, he wasn't going to buy this.

"Oh yeh, like what?"

"Well I heard the CIA had a 'remote viewing' branch for a while, trying to find psychics who could see strategic targets from a long way away – military bases, power stations, you name it. It was supposed to be a parallel with similar work in the Soviet Union at the time."

"Right, and you believe that?" Jack didn't have to try to sound incredulous – he'd heard this one before and didn't believe it for a second.

"I believe that they might have tried, but it would take a fair bit for me to actually believe in it actually working."

"Damn straight," Jack nodded. "So you can see why I'm having a little trouble here, right?"

"Of course! But it's like the Roswell story and aliens – it might have happened, it might not, but you can bet your bottom dollar that if it was true the government would keep a pretty tight lid on it."

Jack spluttered, possibly a little too much. "Ha! Aliens, little grey men – I don't think so."

Al fell silent, and Jack wondered if he'd caught his slip about the little grey men. Sure, he'd mentioned them before... but something was telling him that Al didn't believe in aliens, so maybe he wasn't from the NID. If that was the case though, where was he from?

"Are you telling me that you have never, not once, been sent on a mission – or heard tell of one from a friend of a friend – that had a bit of weirdness in it?" Al probed.

"Depends on what you mean by 'weirdness'."

"I mean something that you might not want to pass along yourself in case you sound like a complete and utter lunatic, Jack, something that doesn't make sense in the normal world. Psychics, angels, aliens, zombies – the kooky stuff that you don't normally find outside science fiction or the supernatural."

Al's face was almost begging for a positive answer. He was asking for a leap of faith, as far as Jack could tell, but Jack wasn't inclined to let him know that he'd seen and experienced a great deal of 'weirdness'.

"No Al, I have not," he replied, deadpan. "Have you? Other than becoming a hologram and visiting your best friend who jumps around in time, of course, because apparently that's normal."

The other man was silent, and Jack saw that his expression was a bit like Daniel's when he was trying to summon up the courage to explain something to Jack that he knew Jack wouldn't like.

"I've seen an angel," Al replied softly – almost nervously. "She helped us out, and then she vanished. Everyone who'd seen her forgot about her, except me because I wasn't physically in that time."

"An angel? With wings and a harp and all that?"

Jack was extremely sceptical. Aliens were one thing, but angels were supposed to be from God and he'd seen far too many 'gods' to believe in that crap any more. Al was shaking his head though.

"No, no, no... she was a loud, fat, obnoxious Puerto Rican singer from New York, if you can believe it. Said she'd died in the Twenties and was sent back to do a few good deeds, because she'd been a vain person." He shrugged. "I thought she was crazy, because she could see me as a hologram and normally only kids, animals or loons can see me – but then she vanished and Sam – who'd defended her all along – couldn't even remember her name!"

"Uh huh. So once she'd vanished, you believed in her."

"I guess," Al looked pained. "It was one of those things that still doesn't make sense. My... second! ... ex-wife was big on Hungarian superstitions, but I never really believed anything until... well, you get the picture. "

"I'll bet!" Jack laughed, thinking that this man was a bit of a loon himself. Either that or an extremely good actor. And who had that many exes that they had to think hard to remember which was which – other than Liz Taylor, of course. "So that was the weirdest thing you've ever seen – apart from the time travel mojo?"

A look of fear crossed Al's face. "No... no, but the only one I ever want to think about again."

"What? Something scare you bad did it? A trip to the haunted house?"

"Worse, and I never could talk to a shrink about it because they'd slap me in the nuthouse as soon as look at me."

Jack scoffed. "Yeh, I suppose a scary story plus the tale of why you were there – visiting your good friend Dr Beetlejuice back in the 19-whatevers, while he was trying to stop little Jimmy from having his head flushed down the toilet so that he would go on to become President of the United States after all. That would kinda clinch it wouldn't it. Al?"

Al's face could only be described as haunted, staring dead ahead and clearly not listening to Jack's neatly designed taunts. He looked like a guy who suddenly realised he'd lost his nerve and might not be able to jump out of another helicopter.

"Al?" Jack waved his hand in front of the man's face. "Snap out of it, man!"

He clapped loudly, and Al 'woke up' with a jump.

"Welcome back to the world of the living, sailor. Jeez, they don't make kidnappers like they used to do they?" Jack asked the empty air.

"It was a mummy."

The whisper was barely enough to be heard, but it made Jack's perk up. "What did you say?"

"It was a mummy," Al repeated, louder this time. He shook himself, as if trying to rid himself of goose bumps, then looked hard at Jack. "The weirdest – the scariest – thing I ever saw was a mummy. Not one of those ones you see in a museum, though he did look pretty old and dry. No, he was in a tomb – his tomb – and he was trying his damnedest to get out."

Jack tried to decide whether this guy was just trying another tack now, or whether he was serious. Had Al really seen a Goa'uld getting out of his sarcophagus? Or was he fishing by dropping titbits related to the Stargate program? Probably the latter, as far as Jack was concerned.

"Maybe you do belong in the nuthouse," Jack commented nonchalantly, one eyebrow raised in a Teal'c-like way. No way was he going to reveal a thing.

Al just glared at him, then sighed. His shoulders seemed to slump in defeat. "Look, even Sam didn't believe me on this one. There was a whole lot of stuff going on that the locals thought was due to the curse of Ptah-Hotep – that was the mummy's name – people dying, cars not working, even the door to the Imaging Chamber wouldn't work, but Sam wouldn't have any of it. Then again, it's his fault that I even saw the mummy!"

"What do you mean?"

"Well there was this other guy, Dr Razul – who it turned out was actually to blame for the people dying and the car not working and all that – but right at the end he got trapped in the burial chamber because this big rock covered the door. They all needed to get out before a sandstorm hit, so Sam yelled and told him how to reset the mechanism even though the guy was a lying, conniving bastard, but then he just started yelling and Sam told me to go through and see what was happening."

Al stopped briefly and took a breath, his eyes wide. Jack was intrigued.

"Go on."

"I don't know why I'm even telling you this, because you're not going to believe me," the Admiral commented, still sounding a little panicky.

"True, but it looks like you've been saving this story for a rainy day, so you may as well finish."

To be honest Jack just wanted to know if the guy was going to make a hash of it, because the NID tended to stay well clear of planets under Goa'uld rule. They just got in and got out with whatever seemed most valuable to the locals, so it was unlikely that this guy had any idea what a Goa'uld would really do if he woke up to find an archaeologist in his tomb.

The other man frowned, then threw his hands in the air. "Ok, ok. I walked through the wall – and... ran out again."

"That's not the end of the story, Al."

"No, it's not," he replied, his eyes moving quickly as if to avoid Jack's stare. "But Sam Leaped out before I could see much more so I don't really know what the end of the story was..."

Jack shook his head in contempt. A bad actor after all, or one without enough information to ad-lib effectively. "You know that really is a poor effort at a scary story. So you saw a mummy, big deal – what's to be scared of? You must have really small –"

"Enough!" Al was pissed now. "This is what I was always afraid of. Not even my best friend believed me, so I don't know why I'm so surprised that a military robot like wouldn't either."

"Well what do you expect me to do – believe every part of your piss-poor story? Feel sorry for you? Let you go free while I stay shut up in here? I don't think so!" Jack blazed back.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

With that done, the pair crossed their respective arms and settled down to a rather uncomfortable silence. A silence that was eventually broken by Al.

"For your information, that mummy was damn scary."

"Oh yeh?" Jack was beyond caring.

"Yeh. When I walked through there, he was killing Dr Razul. That's why he was yelling."

Another ploy, Jack decided wearily. "Al, mummies are dead already – they can't have a beer, let alone kill someone."

"Not this one." Al's voice was quiet and controlled, as if he was trying to keep strong emotions at bay. "This one sat up in his coffin and... and... he held up his hand... and there was this golden light in his eyes... and Dr Razul was just writhing, completely curled up in what looked like absolute agony while this death ray... or something, God only knows what... this light from the mummy's hand poured down on him and wouldn't stop. I'm mean he was killing him, Jack, he was really killing him..."

Al's voice trailed off and Jack made a point of watching his every movement. Body language was hard to fake, at least past the basic stages, and Al really look like he was reliving a moment of abject horror.

"Sounds terrifying." Al looked up and Jack met his gaze levelly. "I mean it, Al." And he did. He still wasn't convinced that Al had met a Goa'uld, but he did see a man who had a major fright to get over. "What happened next?"

A short laugh. "I already told you – I ran out again. I was too terrified, though the mummy couldn't have done anything to me because I was a hologram. It was one of those things that makes you remember why you believed in monsters under your bed when you were a little kid, y'know? He was that monster, and he wasn't in some scary movie. It was 100 times more frightening than my first enemy engagement in 'Nam, and that time round I'd had a weapon in my hand – but in that tomb, with that mummy, I felt naked, and completely helpless."

Jack nodded, confused but fascinated. "I take it he didn't follow you then?"

"Yeh well, we don't know!" Al continued, a little calmer now. "Not too long after I ran out, the yelling stopped and then rock over the doorway started to lift. Sam wanted to stay and help Dr Razul out, and he wouldn't believe me when I said that the man had to be dead, but he did remember that there was a massive sandstorm on the way and that made him move. Then he Leaped, and all we know from the history records that the tomb was never found again – in fact it's now safe under Lake Aswan. The only difference was that the two American archaeologists escaped to tell the tale this time round."

"And no one ever heard from Dr Razul ever again?"

"No," Al shook his head. "Ziggy checked. There's no record of him after that date, he didn't come out of the desert with Dr Conway – Conway being the guy that Sam had Leapt into – and the delectable Ginny. He couldn't have escaped the sandstorm on foot either – it was one of the ones that swallows everything up."

"Hmm, nice story," Jack leaned back on the bed, thinking hard. He wasn't sure what to think, and he could feel Al's eyes on him. "What?"

"'Nice story'? Is that all you can say?"

"What were you expecting? Me jumping around, freaking out that King Tut might walk through the door some time?"

The fact that Jack knew that some mummies could wake up was a completely different point, as far as he was concerned – he was still trying to weigh up Al's quantum leaping story in light of a possible encounter with the Goa'uld. If – and only if! – this was the case, then it could explain what he was doing here. It was still kinda unlikely, but he could almost imagine the look on Al's face if he explained what it was that he did for a living. It would be like looking in a mirror – except that if he looked in the mirror he saw this Beckett guy. That really was freaky. He could let Al go, but still not mention anything about Stargate Command...

"I have one condition."

Al looked up again, startled. He'd probably assumed that Jack was going to sink back into a silent mood, keeping that bit of glass close to hand in case he made a break for it.

"One condition for what?"

"One condition for letting you go," Jack smiled to see the reaction on Al's face. "And that condition is that you let me out as well."

Al's automatic reaction was to protest, and Jack held up a finger to silence him.

"This is not up for debate, and I have no intention of ruining anything out there. I won't even ask you to let me out topside – we are underground, right?"

Al nodded.

"All I want is to take a look around this place," Jack stated calmly. "A look around this Project you have here. From what you've said before, I won't remember anything I see anyway, and in the meantime I'll be cooperative. I also promise no more violent or threatening behaviour. Now, are you willing to trust me?"

The Admiral frowned. "I'm not too sure, but it's not my call anyway. Ziggy?"

"Yes, Admiral Calavicci, I am listening. Before releasing you I would like a sign of good faith, Colonel."

"I can put away the glass if that's what you mean?" Jack replied brightly.

"No, Colonel. I am afraid that it is not quite that simple. I need to know how cooperative you will be, as it has been established that your workplace is almost as unusual as our own."

Al turned to stare at Jack, who shrugged in return. "What did you have in mind?"

Ziggy's voice was still sexy, but suddenly Jack realised that it bore no trace of real human emotion. "Dr Fisichella attempted to contact Dr Beckett via the Imaging Chamber and was moderately successful. We have confirmed that he is on Level –28 of the Cheyenne Mountain Complex, however we are unable to access any information that might help us to ascertain the purpose of this Leap."

"And you want me to do what? Give you passwords? Point you in the right direction? I don't think so, Ziggy – I'd rather stay in this room with the good Admiral here." Jack was back on the defensive, and he was not going to put his team or his base in jeopardy.

"No, Colonel – that will not be necessary and I would not ask you to betray a trust. Our need is more for the present. Admiral –"she addressed Al suddenly. "The Appropriations Committee has taken note of our current lock-down and the Chairman has decided to pay us a visit this afternoon."

"What! Kinsey? That smug, lying, money-grabbing son of a bitch? He's coming here? Today?!"

Al's reaction could not possibly have been choreographed, and Jack's own reaction was to stare in shock. "Kinsey?"

The Admiral span around. "You know him?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Jack replied, a little confused but truthful all the same. There could only be one Kinsey. "He'd like nothing better than to shut down the base where I work. Personally I wouldn't mind shutting him down, if you know what I mean."

"Only too well... Ziggy, what do you have in mind then?" Al asked.

"Colonel, I have no wish to see this project shut down not only because it would make a lot of good people unemployed, but also because it would mean the end of my own existence," Ziggy announced, frankly. "Senator Kinsey's constant complaint regarding Project Quantum Leap is that we rarely make contact with anyone who 'makes a difference'. What I propose is that you pretend to be someone who does make a difference, someone who you might know quite well, and possibly someone who he knows well."

Jack blinked a few times, then it dawned on him. "You mean that he'd see me looking like your Dr Beckett and he wouldn't know, don't you? Ok, if that's what it takes – but that would put you in my debt. I don't know who to 'be' just yet, but I'll think of someone – even if it's myself. What do I get in return?"

"I would allow you to access my database, Colonel," Ziggy replied. "In the hope that you might come to believe in the reality of Project Quantum Leap and aid us in our attempt to complete Dr Beckett's current mission."

Jack looked toward Al and then down at his hands. He still saw his hands, but these people didn't and they didn't think that Kinsey would either. Oh how he'd like to get his hands on that man... but neither Al nor Ziggy knew how much bad blood was between he and Kinsey, so if they were wrong this could blow up in their faces big time. But it still gave him a chance to get out and see what made this place tick. He smiled.

"Ok, Ziggy – you have a deal."