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Reviewers: thank you, merci, bitte sehr, grazie, etc etc. Yes, I am an evil cow – but I will give you a clue: he's still male and at the SGC. As for the rest, RAFO! And here, have a never-ending McFlurry to keep you going :)
September 26th 1998 – Project Quantum LeapJack's POV
Jack wasn't too sure what to make of this. He'd woken up at around 0600 as usual (but without the normal high-decibel failsafes), then dozed happily until closer to 0700. Too happily. And now he was paying the price.
As usual his dreams in this semi-awake period were much more vivid and lucid than whatever it was his unconscious mind came up with during the night, but for the first time in several years he found himself dreaming of Charlie. Not the Charlie who had died so tragically, but his son as he would be now – just starting high school, showing off his first football injury to a proud mom, fishing trips with his dad... The images of normality, of a happy nuclear family, were almost too much. The dream reset itself several times, but each one had a happy ending. Charlie was alive, Sara still loved him, and in one dream there was even a baby daughter.
Eventually he awoke fully, his mind reeling from what might have been. What might still be, if Dr Beckett's Leaps ever took him to the right time and place. But Jack knew that he had to dismiss that possibility right now – otherwise he would live in hope forever, waiting for the empty hole in his life to be filled by a sudden shift in history. He had to convince himself that their made-up story for that evil son-of-a-bitch Kinsey – that the SGC wouldn't have gone ahead without a suicidal Jack O'Neill – was true, and that no amount of hope and prayer would ever bring his family back to him. If by some miracle it did, so be it, but he couldn't afford to hang around waiting for that day.
Clenching his teeth and fighting back tears, Jack's body shook with the strain of pushing those traitorous demons back into the most private part of his mind. It was better this way, he told himself, praying that this would be the last time that he would relive the grieving process.
After what felt like an age, Jack found the energy to sit up and look around him. Same old Waiting Room, walls shining somewhat eerily, but otherwise plainly furnished. He was still five days in the future, and this Sam Beckett guy was still running around the SGC looking like him. Weird.
He doubled checked the time on the clock Ziggy had kindly provided after he'd told her that this room felt like a stasis chamber – no easily visible doors, no windows, no indication of time or location – and realised that 'he' and Teal'c would soon be heading to the Alpha site. At least he didn't have to put up with those nuggets anyway... there was a saving grace to being caught in a time travel experiment after all. That and the alleged saving of his life.
Jack padded over to the shower room, and enjoyed the hot jets of water. Somehow everything always seemed better after a good shower, though as he stepped out of the cubicle he noted that his knees were a little stiff. His reflection still showed Dr Beckett's face, but for once he welcomed his usual aches and pains – no matter who his reflection belonged to, he was still in (and in control of) his own body.
Right there and then his mischievous side took over, and in a fit of childish glee he decided that since no one could see him – as opposed to Dr Beckett – stubble would be fine. Hah! Why should he risk cutting himself by shaving a face that only he could feel and no one else could see? It would be a health & safety risk if nothing else. Let no one say that Jack O'Neill hadn't thought about the reality of this situation!
As he exited the shower room, clean and fully clothed (though unshaved), Ziggy's unexpected voice made him jump.
"Good morning, Colonel."
"Oi! Give a guy some warning would you?!" He exclaimed. "Hey, you weren't peeking I hope?"
"Of course not, Colonel," the computer replied, though her smooth and minx-like tone sounded just a little too smooth and minx-like. "I have a visitor asking to see you."
Jack's eyes narrowed. "A visitor? At this hour of the morning? It's not even 8am, for crying out loud. I haven't even had breakfast!" He paused a moment, thinking. "Is it Al?"
"Admiral Calavicci is currently in the Imaging Chamber," Ziggy informed him. "Your visitor is Dr Verbeena Beeks."
"Doctor of what?" Jack probed, figuring that Al must be getting one last look at his best bud... and wondering what kind of name 'Verbeena' was.
"Dr Beeks is the psychiatrist who is assigned to Project Quantum Leap. She apol–"
"A shrink? A shrink wants to poke around in my head now? So much for privacy..." Now was just not the time, he decided – not after his shaky start to the day. "And there I was believing you guys when you said that this wasn't a military base."
"If you would allow me to finish –"Oops, Jack thought, she sounds mad now. Hmm. A super-smart computer with an ego and a female personality. What was this Beckett guy thinking? "Dr Beeks does not have to meet with you now, however she thought that you could share breakfast. She also apologises for not being able to see you until now."
"Oh, so it was already a forgone conclusion that she would?"
"Dr Beeks meets with every Leapee to monitor their psychological well-being and to assist them with any problems such as concern for family and friends," Ziggy stated sternly.
"Uh-huh, and I'll bet she writes a nice little report for her research too – right?"
There was a moment's silence.
"Colonel O'Neill?" A new voice asked. Definitely female, but very professional. Not Ziggy. Dr Beeks then?
"Yeh...?"
"My name is Verbeena Beeks. You don't have to talk to me, you don't even have to look at me – all I'm asking is whether you'd like some company for breakfast."
Jack snorted. "Well that does sound real tempting, doesn't it? Breakfast with a shrink, or breakfast with a mute. Hmmm, let me think..."
At this point, Ziggy obviously decided that enough was enough. "Colonel, we have made allowances and by-passed several regulations on your behalf. If you wish to continue enjoying such privileges as access to the Control Room, I insist that you speak with Dr Beeks."
"Woah!" Jack was taken aback by the computer's vehemence. "You sounded like my 6th grade math teacher there, Z! She used to give me plenty of detention too, but you're right – I do enjoy being able to walk from one room to the next, even if fresh air is a little too much to ask for. Ok, Dr Beeks can come in."
"Thank you, Colonel," the psychiatrist replied after a moment's pause. Maybe both of them had been waiting for a response from Ziggy. Jack knew that he had.
Sighing and hoping that he hadn't mortally offended the real power behind this base, Jack made a vague attempt to tidy his bed and had just sat down when Dr Beeks entered with a small trolley. To her credit, she also wore a rather sheepish expression.
"It's good to meet you, Colonel – and I apologise if this seems like some kind of ultimatum," she smiled, and suddenly this woman reminded Jack of Carter. They weren't at all similar in looks, but Dr Beeks was obviously a smart lady and she'd also managed to slip straight through his antagonism with ease.
"Uh, yeh," he mumbled, trying to recover as quickly as possible. "Well this isn't any restaurant, but I'll take the bed if you want to sit on the chair?"
"Sounds great," she replied. "Coffee?"
"Uh, juice – if you've got some."
"Sure do."
Jack blinked a few times, wondering if this was some kind of trick. He'd only met a few shrinks in his time, and most of them he'd managed to turn away before they got this close, but none of those whom he hadn't escaped had been quite so... normal.
Dr Beeks handed him a glass of juice and regarded him carefully. "Don't worry, I won't bite. I've read your file, such as it is. You do."
He coughed reflexively and desperately tried to keep all the juice in the glass, rather than sloshing it all over the floor. "You're... erm... rather direct."
"When necessary," she acknowledged. "Now – there's toast and some cereal, I think it's Froot Loops. For you, I presume?" A small smile flickered around her otherwise professional eyes.
"Mmm. Yes."
Jack hopped down from the bed and fetched a bowl, wondering if this was in aid of something more. It made sense for the shrink to want to see him – though he couldn't understand why she was here now, when he'd been in the complex for over 24 hours. That and she was so damn friendly. Twin frustrations warred within him: one reminding him that no psychiatrist left a visit like this empty-handed, that she would gain some knowledge of him simply by observing his reactions; and the other declaring that Al was his only 'friend' in this place, because neither Gooshie nor Tina could stand him. Couldn't he just play along for a little while?
"Whatcha doin' here so early?" He finally asked, chewing on the cereal goodness. Full fat milk was great too.
Dr Beeks finished her mouthful of toast before replying. "I was told that a new Leapee had arrived the other night, but an emergency elsewhere kept me from visiting you sooner. The call was upgraded to high priority after your, ahem, stunt yesterday morning... but I got here as soon as I could."
"I'll bet Gooshie was pushing for someone to come and talk me out of it," Jack fished.
"Yes, and I offered the name of a colleague – but everything worked out fine in the end, didn't it?"
"'Spose so." Jack shook his head and took another swig of his juice.
"Are you wondering what's going to happen when Dr Beckett steps through that Stargate, Colonel?"
The question was put together nicely. Innocent enough on the surface, but still probing. It looked like shrinks couldn't turn 'it' off any more than soldiers could.
"Yeh." There didn't seem to be much harm in an honest reply. "I know what he'll be thrown into, but I can't help but think he's going to get caught out unless this Leap ends quickly."
"Mmm," Dr Beeks agreed. "Admiral Calavicci is worried too. He's in the Imaging Chamber now, but Dr Fisichella told me that the structure of the base appears to be disrupting the audio signal."
Jack noticed that she was very careful to refer to everyone by his or her proper title. Was that to make sure that neither of them got confused by the other's references, or for the benefit of some recording?
"Can we listen in?" he asked, realising that if Al was watching Dr Beckett right now... he'd be in the Gateroom, or as close as he'd ever get to it.
Dr Beeks was silent. In fact she looked a little nervous as she sipped her coffee. What was she thinking? Did she think he was mad?
"Do you believe in the Stargate, Dr Beeks? Or do you think we're having some kind of mass hallucination?"
It was worth asking the question straightforwardly, he figured. Mackenzie had taken a while to get used to some of the antics around the SGC himself, and he was in the middle of it. And if she thought that he was nuts she might be having doubts about Al and the rest of the crew as well.
"Uh... I'm not sure if I understand your question correctly, Colonel."
The comment was a false one, and Jack knew that she knew he knew... or something like that. His natural sarcasm came to the surface. "It's simple enough really. Do you believe in little grey men, or do you think I'm gaga and leading the gang astray?"
"I'm... erm... reserving judgement until I've had a chance to interview Admiral Calavicci," she replied, finally.
"Ah, so you're not sure and you want to hear it from the horse's mouth? Lady, I am the horse." Jack was somewhat offended. Al had spoken with Dr Beckett twice last night, and he seemed to believe in the Stargate.
"With all due respect, Colonel... Uh... We have very little means of verifying your claims at this stage."
So that's how it was. "And you don't believe Dr Beckett? Your precious Sam?"
The psychiatrist's expression hardened. "Dr Beckett has not been home in nearly 5 years. His reflection changes drastically every few days, and he has solved problems in so many people's lives that we cannot keep count any more." Her voice quietened. "We support him as best we can, but contact is often brief and restricted to the job at hand. Dr Beckett's personality appears to be unaffected by his unusual lifestyle, however none of us really knows what personal damage may have been inflicted upon him by Leaping."
"You're saying that he might be a little cuckoo as well?" Jack couldn't believe it. From what he'd heard of this guy from Al, Gooshie and Tina he was... well... damn near perfect, as far as they were concerned.
"I cannot confirm any such assumption without a full psych evaluation," Dr Beeks' tone was now defensive. "However a few of Dr Beckett's recent judgements have been, well, suspect."
"Riiight," Jack muttered. Maybe psychiatrists were all the same after all, and he already knew how hard it was to shake shrinks from their supposedly well-informed and highly researched opinions.
Then it hit him, and he looked at the clock. It was 0758. Maybe there was still time to convince her.
"Would you class Al – Admiral Calavicci – as a fruitcake?" He asked hurriedly, forgoing all sarcasm for once in his life and grabbing a paper serviette from the trolley. His head darted around the room quickly, finally locating a pen in Dr Beek's front pocket and plucking it out. "Excuse me."
"Erm... no – despite his unorthodox behaviour he is–"
"Ziggy? Ziggy!" Jack was sketching the Stargate as best he could, though his high school teachers had actually applied to have him removed from their classes all those years ago. He knew enough about this Imaging Chamber to know that all transmission would be lost as soon as Dr Beckett stepped through the Stargate, but that until then there was nothing wrong with Al's eyesight. "Can you patch us through so we can talk to Al? Please?"
Geez, he hoped she wasn't still pissed after this morning's little run in... All he wanted was for Al to tell the sceptical Dr Beeks here what is was that he was looking at – and right now, that should be a big, beautiful Stargate. The only proof for his story that they had so far was Dr Beckett's confirmation last night – while he was on the surface. But if Al could see the Stargate and describe it closely enough the sketch he'd just drawn – hmmm... how many constellations were there again? – she'd have to accept the truth then, wouldn't she? It wasn't like he'd told them much about it other than the fact that it was a circle, right?
Dr Beeks was looking at him very strangely now. Crap. Maybe he'd just convinced her that he was insane rather than gaining a second chance.
"Ziggy please, I know you don't like me but Dr Beeks has an idea that Dr Beckett might be even crazier than me!"
Now that was probably wasn't the best way he could have phrased it, insulting an egotistical computer's creator, but hopefully it'd provoke a reaction... hopefully...
"Opening a communications channel, Colonel O'Neill," Ziggy finally commented. "You may speak whenever you wish."
"You're a doll! Hey Al!" Jack shouted. "Can you hear me buddy?"
"No need to yell, Jack, Lord Almighty..."
They couldn't see him, but the mutter was very definitely Al's. Jack suddenly wondered what Gooshie was making of this sudden demand of his, as he added a few ripples to the center of the Stargate to show it was active... and a mini-sketch of the 'kawhoosh' to the side, just for good measure.
"Sorry to interrupt, but if you can see the Stargate can you please describe it? Now, before Dr Beeks decides that we're both loons?"
"I object!" The lady shrink protested.
"Uh, ok Jack," Al replied nonetheless, his voice halfway between harried and gob-smacked. "Well... it's... it's gorgeous..."
His voice trailed off and Jack rolled his eyes. The reaction was normal – in fact he didn't know anyone who didn't like to just sit and stare at a Stargate, especially an active one.
"Al? AL! Is the Stargate active?"
"Erm, no – well, almost. I think," Al was hesitant in his reply. "One of the rings is moving round and round. It stops every so often and a triangle around the edge glows and moves. Damn I wish I could hear this thing."
"Ok Al, you ain't seen nothing yet. How many chevrons are there?"
"Chevrons?"
"The triangles!"
"Oh, er... one, two, three... seven! Seven chevrons! And they're all glowing red now – oh my God!"
Jack had been pointing out the seven pre-drawn chevrons in his sketch to Dr Beeks, but stopped at Al's exclamation.
"Hey, did you just see the kawhoosh?"
"The what?"
"The kawhoosh!" Jack emphasised, tapping the second smaller drawing for Dr Beeks' benefit.
"Uh, yeh, I guess that's the word... like water streaming out of a jet and being sucked back in. But Jack, this is amazing!"
"Tell the doc all about it Al, please, before she commits me. Or slaps me."
Jack looked at Dr Beeks and caught a truly dirty look on her face. He really hoped this would work.
"It's... it's like a huge puddle, but it's vertical! It's like it's floating there, just minding its own business... and it's glowing..." Al's voice trailed off, and when he spoke again the wonder in his voice had been replaced by a certain degree of fear. "That Teal'c guy is pushing Sam up the ramp in that wheelchair of his now, Jack. Just tell me he's going to be ok – please?"
Jack was taken aback. "Uh, sure – I mean most people get a bit disoriented on their first time through, but he shouldn't be used to weird molecular stuff with all that Leaping? Right, Al?"
"Right... well, they're nearly there... bye Sam..."
"You'll see him again, Admiral, don't worry."
Finally Dr Beeks had joined in the conversation, though Jack couldn't tell whether she had accepted his story yet. If she was anything like Carter, she might want a chance to think it through without him babbling in the background.
"Jack, they're going through now... oh Lord... it's rippling... it is like a puddle..."
"Don't worry, Al, everything's go–"
"Teal'c?"
"Yes, O'Neill?"
"What am I doing in a wheelchair?"
Author's note: Come on... you didn't think I was going to give the game away quite that quickly did you? Have a good weekend! :)