Disclaimer: I write this for fun, not money.

A/N: I am a bad bad BAD person. It's been almost a year since I started this fic, and 4 months since I last updated! Shocking. Not that I haven't wanted to, I simply have trouble sitting at the keyboard and getting on with the job. Naughty Soph. I'm aiming to update once a week, but am in France for most of the coming week so please hold of the rotten tomatoes for now? And nag me. Nagging works well.

In case you need a re-cap (I know I did!): Jack's currently at the Alpha site under lock and key, having almost remembered the Waiting Room before the memory replacement settled in, and Sam has just told the other Sam that he's not everyone's favourite archaeologist after all.

Chapter 31 – Knock-on Effects

September 21st, 1998 – Project Quantum Leap

Gooshie's POV

Sipping his coffee, Gooshie withheld a grumble as Al paced round the Control Room for what felt like the hundredth time. The other man had been alternately morose and antagonistic since his return from the Imaging Chamber half an hour ago, no doubt imagining bad things happening to Dr Beckett.

Not that Gooshie could blame him: from what Daniel Jackson had told them this would be a case of sink or swim, with the swimming option being dependent on the SGC throwing the time traveller a life preserver. Even yesterday's visit by Senator Kinsey hadn't worried the Project's core staff as much as this. That was a matter of fending off a politician – something they'd survived several times in the past – but none of them knew what disclosure would mean for either the Leap or the Leaper himself.

Idly he noted that Tina had left the area on the pretext of checking Ziggy's not inconsiderable collection of transformers – maybe the masts on the surface as well, if he'd heard her correctly. The power requirements and strength of their transmissions made this a wise move (given the difficulty of reaching inside Cheyenne Mountain, and the likelihood that Dr Beckett would be kept underground for the foreseeable future), but he couldn't help but suspect that Tina's timing was related to the Admiral's terminally bad mood.

Sighing he returned his attentions to the computer before him. Al couldn't return to the Imaging Chamber until Tina's diagnostics were complete, so Gooshie resigned himself to ignoring the distracting slip-slip of the Project Director's shoes and opened his email account. Moments later the normally sedentary programmer was on his feet, his chair ricocheting across the room and knocking Al out of his self-induced stupor.

"Jesus, Gooshie! What was that for?" The other man yelled irritably, causing the scientist's face to become as red as his hair.

He pointed to his monitor. "It's Jay. He's been made redundant – effective immediately."

Al wasn't having any of it. "And who the hell is Jay?"

"My nephew!"

"Lucky man." The reply was deadpan.

Rolling his eyes, Gooshie attempted to convey the enormity of this news to his friend-cum-boss. "Al, yesterday Colonel O'Neill confirmed that Jay works – worked – at Stargate Command!"

"Oh. Oh!" Al sat down heavily. "Ziggy.. what's the likelihood of this being linked to our Leap?"

The computer responded quickly. "Without access to Dr Felger's personnel records this is difficult to calculate, however I estimate a broad probability of 87.2."

"Why does she always have to start with a disclaimer?" Gooshie heard Al mutter indiscreetly. "OK, could you page Dr Jackson and get him in here?"

"I have already taken that liberty," 'she' responded testily. "Should I recall Dr Martinez-O'Farrell also?"

The man in charge shook his head. "No, if this means what I'm hoping it doesn't we'll need those parts in working order sooner rather than later."

A door swished open to reveal a wide-eyed archaeologist, and Gooshie remembered that he'd retreated to the Waiting Room with a newspaper and Gooshie's spare glasses, claiming that he didn't want to get underfoot. It wasn't like he'd remember anything once the Leap ended, the programmer thought wryly, if it ended.

"How can I help?" The younger man asked, clearly not sure whether to be grateful or worried that he was needed. "Have you seen Dr Beckett again?"

Al shook his head. "I'm afraid not, Daniel. Gooshie?"

Two heads swivelled in his direction, catching him off-guard. "Uh.. Dr Jackson, do you know a programmer at the SGC by the name of Jay Felger?"

The target of his question blinked, frowning. "Call me Daniel, and yes.. vaguely.. Why? And how do you know where he works? I thought –"

"Jack accidentally mentioned his name while he was here," Al interrupted smoothly. "Gooshie here put two and two together and came up with his sister's kid. Seems he's just been sacked, and we're worried that this is some kind of knock-on from our Leap here."

"Oh…" Daniel echoed Al's response unknowingly, fidgeting as he looked between the pair. "Well I'm afraid I really couldn't say – he's in a completely different department to me, after all."

Gooshie squeezed his eyes shut, then reached over to his computer and printed off the email a couple of times. It was private, yes, but under these circumstances it was worth sharing nonetheless.

Grabbing the paper from the printer he handed one copy to Dr Jackson and slid the other across the central island to Al. "Read what he says, please. This was completely out of the blue as far as he's concerned – and while he does tend toward exaggeration I could never believe that Jay would lie about something so serious."

"He's asking if you can help him find another job," Al noted dryly.

"He knows I work for the Navy, and Isabel made sure that I knew he'd found a fascinating job with the Air Force," he shrugged, unrepentant and defensive. "If I was out of work I'd probably try the same route: there aren't so many civilians willing to work with the military, even fewer with security clearance – especially this high."

Dr Jackson nodded in agreement. "Dr Fisichella's right. It's very different to what you'd find in private industry or academia – though once in, it's hard to get out, not least because classified work makes publication difficult –"

Al threw his hands up in apparent frustration. "We pay you well don't we? And you get to work on things that no-one else will see for years!"

The two consultants shared a look, which drew a sigh from the room's sole military occupant.

"Ok, so employment conditions aside – Daniel, have you heard any rumours about civilian staff being laid off? Felger in particular?"

"No, not at all," the archaeologist admitted. "To be summarily dismissed would take a extremely large mistake on Dr Felger's part, and what little I've heard suggests that he's great at what he was.. um.. hired to do. But –" he continued hurriedly, "this email says he was made redundant. The SGC doesn't make people redundant! The very definition of redundant is 'no longer needed' and trust me, the SGC's needs wouldn't change that quickly. Also, as Dr Fisichella –"

"Gooshie," the man in question insisted with a small smile.

"Gooshie then. As Gooshie said, civilians with clearance aren't exactly dime a dozen – in fact Sam – Major Carter – told me the other day that the R&D division was hiring. That and General Hammond would have ordered some sort of performance management prior to taking any steps towards dismissal, which would have hit the base grapevine." Daniel winced with embarrassment as he elaborated, "It's not like we can talk about work at home, so it's pretty active. That and Sam's his supervisor: she hates the managerial part of her role and would have grumbled, not specifics, but something at least."

The Admiral sighed heavily. "Ok, so our next step is to contact this kid and see if he can give us any more information. Gooshie?"

"Yes?"

"Do you have his number?"

"Uh.. are you sure this is a good idea, Al?"

"No, Gooshie I'm not, so get on with it before I change my mind." The Project Director's expression was strained. "We need to know how this happened."

The redheaded scientist blinked. "But Al, I don't understand why you care that Jay has lost his job – and he really shouldn't be a reason to change Dr Beckett's priorities, not when someone's life is at risk. It's not ethical!"

"That's not what I'm worried about, Gooshie – not in the slightest."

Dr Jackson suddenly sat up straight, exhaling sharply. "You think.. Oh no, you think that the program's been shut down somehow?"

"It's possible, don't you think?" Al spread his hands helplessly. "Why else would they suddenly make people redundant? With the current upheaval in the White House we could be looking at an early election, so I wouldn't be surprised if there's more sneaky manoeuvring going on than usual."

"Kinsey!"

Both Daniel and Al jumped at Gooshie's cry.

"Don't you see?" the programmer continued, eager to make up for his earlier density by sharing his lightbulb. "Al, he was 'in the area' yesterday and came over as soon as heard about our lockdown – what's to say he didn't visit Cheyenne Mountain as well? It's not that far by government jet, and it's within his remit."

The three men sat back and absorbed this thought.

"It's possible.." Al allowed, eventually. "Even if he believed our little ruse, he'd have nothing to lose in the short-term by cutting funding to a huge project like the SGC. That doesn't answer the question of whether it's something we've caused though –"

"That's immaterial!" Dr Jackson exclaimed, leaning across the desk in evident distress. "You have to stop this from happening!"

Hesitating only for a moment, the Admiral reached round and squeezed Daniel's shoulder. "Don't worry, we're going to try as hard as we can. You guys save the planet – literally – and we can't afford to lose that. It's even more important that your Major Carter and General Hammond believe our Sam now; but Gooshie, I still need you to call your nephew. If the base grapevine is as fast as Daniel here says, he could be our best source of information."

Gooshie was doubtful. He knew that Al was trying to reassure Daniel by playing the authoritative leader card, but for all his openness Gooshie knew that Jay took just as much pride in being made privy to secrets as he did in his work. He'd been the same as a child, taunting his siblings with "I know something that you don't" and his report card to make up for lack of popularity and sporting ability.

"I'll give it my best shot.." he agreed unenthusiastically. "I just hope that Isabel is out of the house –"

"He lives with his mother?" Al was incredulous, his comment breaking the sombre mood unintentionally.

Nodding, Gooshie continued. "Yes, and she's a terrible gossip. I haven't called her for months – I could be on the phone for hours before she'll let up and let me talk to Jay!"

"So I'll pretend to be a head-hunter for the Pentagon," Daniel offered unexpectedly, grinning shyly at the open-mouthed looks he received. "What? You've never used that sort of tactic before?"

Al laughed shortly. "We work with the past, Daniel."

The archaeologist flushed. "Oh. Right. Well it's great for getting past secretaries.. um.. anyway, if Felger's mom hears that the Pentagon is calling her newly-redundant son with a possible job offer – on a Sunday! – she's not going to waste any time passing him the phone is she?"

"I didn't expect such sneakiness from you, Dr Jackson, but that's fantastic!" The Admiral took a cigar out of his pocket and began chewing it, smirking at Daniel's mumble of 'well when you're labelled as a laughingstock..' "Gooshie, get that number and dial away."

Ziggy's computer-generated tones caught them off guard. "That will not be necessary, Dr Fisichella. I have located the appropriate directory entry and can dial whenever ready. I will also bypass the switchboard and route the call in such a way that only a thorough investigation would reveal its existence."

For once Gooshie saw a smile of genuine appreciation from Al, something he rarely allowed where 'Her Royal Highness' was concerned. "Great thinking, Ziggy – you ready, Daniel?"

The archaeologist nodded, flashing a smile at Gooshie. "Uh-huh. You, Gooshie?"

"Yes," he squeaked, hoping that the smile plastered on his face didn't look too fake.

"Fantastic!" Al proclaimed, clapping his hands loudly and rubbing them in evident glee. "Let's get this show on the road – dial her up, Ziggy!"

Daniel started visibly at those words, then shook himself and looked around in minor desperation as the sound of a ringing phone resounded through the Control Room.

Realising what the other man was looking for, Gooshie put a hand on his arm and smiled supportively. "With Ziggy helping, we won't need a handset: just talk out loud, and Jay will hear you loud and clear. She'll even filter out our voices – the Admiral's and mine – if we make any comments."

"Nice system," the Leapee replied weakly.

"HELLO? FELGER RESIDENCE, THE LADY OF THE HOUSE SPEAKING!"

"Yeouch! Tone it down, Ziggy!" Al's pained admonishment was almost as loud as Isabel Felger's greeting, but thankfully she gave no indication that she'd heard him.

Gooshie watched Dr Jackson's expression clear as he gave a little cough in the style of bureaucrats everywhere. "Uh, hello Mrs Felger. I would like to speak to Doctor Felger, if you please?"

Inwardly cringing, the programmer was amazed to hear a stammer from his sister.

"Oh! Uh, of course!" Apparently collecting herself, she continued in a stronger voice. "But who should I say is calling? My son is a very busy man, you know!"

"Hmph," Daniel sniffed, giving every impression of being displeased at the hold-up. "I am calling on behalf of Professor John Frink at the Pentagon, madam, who wishes to speak to Dr Felger most urgently!"

"Why of course he does, sir," Isabel replied ingratiatingly – a side of his sibling that Gooshie never thought to hear. "Just one moment." A muffled 'JASON! Come down here THIS INSTANT!' was heard, swiftly followed by, "He shouldn't be much longer. Uh, thank you for holding."

"No problem, Mrs Felger," Daniel answered smugly, giving Gooshie a thumbs up.

On the other side of the Control Room, Al chuckled in amusement. "Professor Frink?"

"I needed a name, that one just sounded right," Daniel cocked his head in apparent confusion, then stopped hurriedly, a strangled noise in his throat preceding a slap to the forehead. "Oh god, it's official: I've spent far too much time with Jack!"

At Gooshie's own confusion, Al explained with a cheery grin. "Frink's the mad scientist on the Simpsons."

"Oh." The programmer blinked. The Simpsons? This wasn't anything he recognised, and he dismissed the curious reference as his nephew's slightly pompous voice came to the phone.

"Hello? Dr Felger speaking."

Both Daniel and Al looked in Gooshie's direction, encouraging smiles to the fore. He took a deep breath.

"Jay? It's your uncle Guiseppe – but just act like I really am some professor at the Pentagon! Whatever you do, your mom can't hear this, ok?" Gooshie urged quietly, knowing that Isabel would be hanging around trying to eavesdrop. "It has to do with the SGC."

There was an audible gulp over the line, then a rustling as Dr Felger covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "Thank you mother, I'll be taking this call in my study" was accompanied by footfalls and a closing door. "Ok, uncle Gooshie – how the hell do you know about the Stargate program?"

Jay's voice was somewhere between hurt and fierce, and Gooshie's heart went out to him as he gave a deflecting reply. "I've been working for the government longer than you have, Jay – isn't that why you emailed me?"

"Yeh, and? Can you help me get another job?"

"It's a definite possibility, Jay, but first we want to try fixing what just went wrong at the SGC," Gooshie answered, his fingers crossed. "I need you to tell me what happened."

"Tell him that you or your boss knows Jack, Gooshie – Felger idolises him," Daniel whispered cautiously.

The programmer nodded, inwardly groaning as he remembered his nephew's childhood obsession with comic book heroes. "Uh, my boss is a, uh, friend of Colonel Jack O'Neill, so –"

"Colonel O'Neill is dead," Felger spluttered loudly, something Gooshie knew was covering genuine anguish. "How do you plan to fix that?"

Dr Jackson's teary eyes and set jaw told him that Jay wasn't the only one who'd miss O'Neill, obnoxious as the man was.

"I can't promise something like that," was his response, careful avoiding Daniel's new glare. "But if you can tell me what happened, how you lost your job, that we may be able to fix."

Felger wasn't having any of this. "Yeh, and who's we?"

All eyes turned to Al, who made a 'who, me?' face, then shrugged. "Dr Felger, this is Admiral Albert Calavicci. I command this little project down in New Mexico and I would be ever so grateful for your assistance in this matter. We may not be as big or bad as the SGC, but rest assured that we do our part."

"Sir!" Felger's embarrassment was clear despite the miles. "Uh.. well.. much as I appreciate your efforts, sir, the SGC has been closed down. Most of the equipment has already been shipped to Nellis, and surplus staff have been made redundant." He cleared his throat nervously. "There may not be much to save?"

The stern shake of Al's head ruled out any admission of time travel on Gooshie's part, so he tried the calm route again. "Just start with telling us what led to the closure if you can, ok Jay? Anything that might have made it easier for this to get rushed through."

"Uh, ok.." They heard the hiss of a soda bottle being opened. "I could get my clearance pulled for this, you know that don't you uncle Gooshie? I don't know where they send civilians who give out classified information, but it can't be any nicer than Leavenworth."

"This is a secure line, Dr Felger – and we're not likely to tell anyone, whether or not we can help," Al stated in his 'command' voice. It rarely got exercised at Project Quantum Leap; Gooshie hoped he wouldn't get a taste for it. "Now, did this start with Jack O'Neill's.. passing?"

"Well.." Felger hiccupped, or was it burped? "I don't think so. Not really. There was a security breach in one of the other labs a little before that; pretty much the entire base was turned upside down trying to find the culprit. Then I heard that Dr Jackson got taken into custody, which is weird because it was his office –"

"Was he well-treated, Felger?" Al interrupted harshly.

Gooshie glanced at Daniel and they shared a strange grin. The show of caring wasn't really for the archaeologist's benefit, they both knew that – it was the sign of a helpless man looking out for his best friend the only way he could.

"Uh, I imagine so.." Jay answered hesitantly. "Even if, uh.. he wasn't, um.. feeling.. himself –" There was a small cough. "Even then the SFs wouldn't hurt him unnecessarily. He's one of us, y'know? The good guys."

"That's great Jay, really," Gooshie spoke up again, while Al's mouth twisted in a bitter smile at Felger's turn of phrase and Daniel snorted quietly. "Where was Colonel O'Neill during this?"

"Oh.. he was.. elsewhere? Also under guard, but.. elsewhere."

"Do you know why?" Al asked, not making an issue of the other man's deliberate vagueness. They all knew he meant the Alpha site.

Jay gave a weak laugh. "Why would I know? I'm just a –"

"Felger.." the Admiral added warningly.

"Oh ok, he was in a wheelchair with an ankle injury that mysteriously vanished!" The words spilled out in a rush. "One of the nurses may have made mention that the Chief Medical Officer was called to check it out.." he added morosely.

"See, base grapevine," Daniel said quietly, rolling his eyes.

The three of them sat in silence for a few moments, the whirring and beeping of Ziggy's systems irritating the sombre mood. Gooshie was sure that Al wanted to ask about Colonel O'Neill's actual.. death.. but he could understand the Admiral's reticence, particularly with Dr Jackson present.

"Uh.. you guys still there?" Felger's confusion rang out.

Al looked at Daniel, receiving a downcast nod in response, then took a deep breath. "Dr Felger, what do you know of the circumstances surrounding Colonel O'Neill's death? Was he still.. elsewhere?"

"Mm-hmm.."

"He was still wherever elsewhere is?"

"Yes." Jay's voice became a little stronger. "He and several others were caught up in a freak storm. They were evacuating the area as fast as they could, but he was still under guard and someone.. someone got trapped under a falling tree, the Colonel tried to help him, but someone else thought he was trying to escape or something.. and –"

Dr Jackson buried his face in his hands and groaned heavily, and by mutual agreement Gooshie and Al interrupted Felger's story.

"It's ok, Doctor, we get the picture."

"Enough, Jay!"

When he came back on, Felger's tone was mortified. "I'm sorry Admiral, I forgot that you and he were friends."

"No problem," was Al's terse reply as Gooshie tentatively reached over and touched Daniel's arm gently. The man hadn't been at the Project long, but no-one should hear of a friend's death like this, essentially alone.

"So.." the Admiral continued. "What happened next?"

"Uh.. well this is where the story gets a little muddled I'm afraid, sir," Jay was obviously keen to make up for his earlier indiscretion. "From what I heard, another agency took a greater interest in the security breach and sent some people in to investigate as a third party."

"NID," Dr Jackson muttered loudly. "It could only be them."

Gooshie remembered hearing that abbreviation before from both Colonel O'Neill and Daniel – both seemed to spit the letters out, so it obviously wasn't anything good.

Al shot a look in the archaeologist's direction, then repeated what he'd said since Ziggy was still filtering out Daniel's contributions to the conversation. His voice might be that of Dr Beckett at the moment, not his own, but Gooshie agreed that caution was probably a good idea.

"Was it the NID, Dr Felger?"

"Yes.. at least I think so. I know they wanted to take Dr Jackson away, and General Hammond tried to stop them, but in the end they took him to Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada. I guess he must still be there."

Daniel gave a sardonic wave and mouthed 'right here!', while Al's expression became dark and stormy.

"Anything else?" the Admiral growled.

"General Hammond raised merry hell over the kidnapping, as he put it, but the details got pretty sketchy from there on in," Felger replied apologetically. "I know the General spent a lot of time on his red phone, we were forbidden to have a memorial for Colonel O'Neill till the investigation was finished – and only then if he was cleared – so half the military personnel wanted to launch an assault on Washington DC, and I didn't want to go anywhere near Major Carter's lab for fear of being blow up by a –" he coughed suddenly, then his voice became angry. "That's not relevant. All I really know is that our funding was summarily cancelled late Friday, and I spent most of yesterday putting all my equipment and research in crates for some other.. person.. to continue in my absence."

Gooshie bit his lip. He knew how he'd feel in that situation. "Easy Jay, we're going to try to fix that, ok?"

"Sure," was the sour reply. "And how do you propose to do that?"

"Classified, Dr Felger. Even to you," Al interjected smoothly. "But I promise that if this works it'll be cleaned up so tidily that there'll be no disruption to you or your work. Now, I have only one more question: would I be right in assuming that Senator Kinsey was in your area yesterday, or possibly on Friday?"

"You would."

Dr Jackson thumped the table. "NID and Kinsey?" He stood up, kicking the chair behind him and headed out of the door toward the Waiting Room, his words dissolving into what Gooshie could only assume was another language – and by his tone those words were not pretty.

The programmer looked over at Al, whose eyes were still fixed on the door. He wasn't looking best pleased either.

"Ok, uh – Jay, thanks a lot," he took up the conversation, for want of anyone else. "Like the Admiral said, we're going to get right onto what you've told us. Hopefully we will be able to make a difference and you'll be back with your research in no time, understand?"

His nephew was despondent, but there was false cheer in his voice. "Whatever you say, uncle Gooshie, whatever you say. And if this doesn't work out, do you think there's room for me at your place?"

Grimacing at the thought that his sister might move closer, Gooshie couldn't help but answer in the affirmative. "With any luck it won't come to that, but for this I think we can come to some sort of arrangement."

"What he said, Dr Felger," Al agreed quietly, with a small nod. "What he said."

There was a lull, then Jay came back on. "So, see you at Thanksgiving?"

"Failing any emergencies –"

"- emergencies," Felger joined the litany. "Yeh, I know the drill. Ok, uncle Gooshie – good luck, and speak to you soon. And I'll have to recommend that trick for getting through Mom to some of my, uh, friends."

Gooshie let out a genuine laugh. Away from Isabel, the kid wasn't all that bad. "You do that. Bye, Jay."

"Bye."

The line cut off, leaving Gooshie and Al facing each other across a table.

"So, it really is our fault. What now?"