"Nobody!" Sam started pacing again, "That can't be... If my body is here as well... How can I possibly know what to change? Even if I knew that, how can I integrate without a current identity? what year is it?"
Al check his handlink again. "1993"
"I can't be me. I've never been here in my life. I'm supposed to be in New Mexico. What if... I'm here to help me? so I should..." he glanced at Al hopefully, "Tell myself to stay out of the accelerator? I could go home, right?" Sam pulled up at a bus stop and sat down slowly as he thought, "If I never started leaping in the first place..."
Shaking his head at such a desperate jump, Al consulted his hand link, "Ziggy says it's a nice theory... but she wouldn't recommend you coming into contact with Dr. Beckett circa 1993. Even if that was a stable phenomena --and there's nothing to prove it is -- she still estimates the chances of you actually listening to yourself are lower than 5 percent."
"5 percent?" Sam closed his eyes and slumped back in the hard wooden seat. "I still don't remember much about the project..." He sighed. "Let me guess... I was an arrogant SOB?"
"No, Sam. No." Al assured him, quickly, then added, "Let's say... Driven ... single-minded... stubborn..."
"Thanks, Al" Sam muttered sarcastically.
Ziggy squawked. Al studied the handlink, "well, you changed history, Sam. Originally Dr. Amy Westman was murdered."
"...But I'm not leaping, am I?" He was quiet, resolved.
"No, Sam." Al answered quietly.
"What am I going to do? I'm a vagrant here. I've got no life, no home, no friends, no money... and I'm stuck here, aren't I?"
Al ignored the desperation in Sam's voice, and addressed the one part of his question he could answer. "Ziggy says she can help with the money part. She knows all the sports results for the next 9 years. All you need is a small bet on long odds..."
The look Sam gave him in reply could have frozen hell.
"OK... she'll think of something else."
A few fat drops of rain hitting the pavement around his feet soon turned into a downpour. Sam wrapped his arms around himself to keep warm, "She'd better think fast, before I catch pneumonia."
"Go back to Amy's place. It's better than nowhere. Just bide your time while Ziggy works on things, OK?"
Sam blinked at him.
"You know..." Al elaborated, "show a little charm..."
"Someone just tried to kill her. I doubt she's up for tea and crumpets." Sam shivered. "Besides, What time is it?"
"just after 3am."
Sam shook his head. "She's already been frightened out of her skin tonight. I can't do it again by banging on her door at 3 in the morning."
"Have you got a better idea, or do you want to stand in the rain all night?"
Reluctantly, Sam nodded. "Maybe... Check on her first, would you?"
"I'll be right back." Al called over his shoulder "Centre me on Amy!" A second later, he popped out of site.
Sam paced in the rain waiting for his friend to reappear.
"You should go back." Al sighed. "She's curled up on the couch with a bottle of whiskey crying her eyes out... poor thing. Must be really shaken up."
Sam nodded. "I'll go and see her. You go and get what you can out of Ziggy."
"Sure. Don't worry Sam, We'll figure out what the hell is going on and get you out of here."
Sam started walking. He sighed as he heard the imaging chamber door close behind him. Somehow he wasn't confident that there would be any way out this time.
He waited outside Amy's door a moment, listening for any movement inside. He could hear some sniffling, but not much else. When he knocked quietly on the door, all went silent.
He tried knocking again, and was met by more silence. He couldn't blame her for not wanting to open the door at that time of night, so he tried another tack.
"Amy, it's Sam. Sam Beckett."
That got some movement coming from the other side of the door. He tried a small smile as the door opened.
"Dr Beckett?" She wiped one eye with a tissue, and shoved it into her pocket, I wasnt expecting..."
The light was better. He could see her large brown eyes, and finally notice the light spray of freckles she sported across her nose. "My friend stood me up. I don't know anyone here..."
"You're soaking wet! Have you been out in the rain all this time?" she grabbed his arm and tugged him inside. Before the door had even closed behind him she'd retrieved a towel from the bathroom and handed it to him, then passed him the blanket that was on the couch.
Sam noted the bottle of whiskey on the side-table, "Maybe I should make us some of that hot chocolate you were talking about earlier."
"No... you just sit there and warm up. I'll find you some dry clothes."
Sam wiped off his face and dried his hair, and stood by the fire. It concerned him she seemed more interested in him than facing what she'd just been through. He did understand it though. It was a lot easier to give him a towel than it was to face your own mortality.
"Here." She reappeared and handed him some clothes, "You're about my husband's size, these should fit."
"Your husband?" Sam raised an eyebrow. That's all he needed, her husband turning up and finding him there alone and half naked.
She looked down a second, "He passed... almost 4 years ago."
"I'm sorry." Sam had to wonder -- would he ever get the chance to fix that?
It wasn't a subject she wanted to dwell on. "The bathroom is right through there. A hot shower and some dry clothes, you'll be good as new."
Sam decided to leave it alone and headed for the shower.
The hot water was certainly welcome. Sam closed his eyes and sighed as the warmth gradually seeped back into his body, beginning to relax under the welcoming stream. When he opened his eyes, Al was standing right in front of him.
"Ah!" he yelped in surpise, then lowered his voice, "Can you at least get on the OTHER side of the curtain?"
"Sorry, I didn't realise you were... ah..." Al muttered sheepishly and obligingly moved to the other side of the curtain.
"Sam!" Amy called from outside the door, "Are you OK in there?"
"Yes..." Sam tried to find a plausible excuse for a grown man screaming in the shower, "I ... eerrr..."
"You saw a spider." Al suggested.
"...just a spider." Sam waited, but no other questions followed, so he whispered to Al "What have you got?"
"Nothing concrete. Ziggy suspects the documents she was carrying might have something to do with the attack."
"Should be easy enough to get a look at them. Might be something there. Looked juicy actually... something about teleporting molecules by not measuring the original quanta."
"Well ... you've got a week, Sam... before they try again, I mean. You didn't change much at all. History is the same, just a week late."
Sam left the water running to cover his whispering and put his head around the curtain. "So that's why I didn't leap the first time?" he wiped the water from his face with one hand, "Nothing's changed?"
"Possibly."
Sam stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, "doesn't explain why I leaped into my own body."
"Well, maybe it does--"
"OTHER side of the curtain." Sam reminded Al.
"Modesty becomes you." Al obligingly passed through the curtain before continuing, "Amy did recognise you after all. Maybe your own body was your best chance of succeeding. Maybe she doesn't trust anyone in her immediate circle. So you leap in as someone familiar - conveniently yourself, just in time to save the day. Bingo, you've earned her trust and have a way in to... to do whatever it is you're supposed to do."
For the first time since this leap had begun, Sam started to feel like he had a direction. "You know... that's the first thing I've heard so far that makes sense. She said her husband died a few years ago." Sam finished dressing, then found himself mesmerised by his own image in the bathroom mirror. Were those grey hairs? How long had he been bouncing around through time?
Al's head appeared through the curtain. "You're as handsome as ever."
"I haven't seen myself for... I don't know how long." Sam leant closer to the mirror, "How old am I now, Al?"
"What does it matter?"
"It matters to me." Sam turned back to Al.
Al shoved his hands into his pockets and lowered his voice, "47."
"47?" Sam swallowed the lump forming in his throat and wiped his face with a towel while he collected himself, "I don't look 47..."
"Ziggy says it's because of your down time... and a little help from good genes."
"Down time?" Sam frowned.
"You usually spend time in limbo between leaps. Sometimes only a few hours. Sometimes a week or more." Al shook his head, "I hate that."
"So... What am I doing here and now?" Sam decided it was better to focus on the task at hand "One thing I'm sure of, if it's going to happen again it was no random attack to begin with."
"Ziggy agrees 100 on that."
"What have you got on Amy? her husband? her work?"
Al consulted the handlink, "Dr Amy Westmore, Bachelor of Science, her major was Quantum physics. Her final year thesis was speculating quanta could be copied exactly across space... a basis for a teleportation system. Kinda like Star Trek.." he chickled, "beam me up, Scotty..."
"Star Trek?" Sam frowned.
"You don't remember Star Trek?"
Sam shook his head, and gave Al a blank look. "Is it important?"
"No, it's a TV show, forget I mentioned it... anyway, she worked on some basic experiments under a few research grants, nothing earth shattering. Current project appears to be classified, Ziggy's working on it... Married in '83, her husband Michael Westman was killed in a car accident in '87, which wasn't long after her current project began."
"You think there's a connection?"
Al shook his head, "Don't know. He had worked with her previously, it was how they met. Nothing in the police report to indicate anything out of the ordinary though. I'll get back and have Ziggy chew on it some more."
"Good." Sam nodded his agreement and opened the door to the living room.
"Feeling better?" Amy asked him
He nodded. "Much. Thanks."
Her fingers twisted in the blanket she had wrapped around her, "I wanted to thank you again..."
"Don't. I should be thanking you. I could have spent all night in the rain. So we're even, OK?" He took a seat on the couch beside her, and lowered his voice, "If you want to talk about what happened..."
She gave a small shake of her head and bit her lip. It was obvious she was doing her best to keep composed, but it wasn't working.
Sam couldn't help himself. His heart went out to her. When she finally gave a small sob, he put his hand on her shoulder. Somehow that broke down the wall, and she started crying again.
He moved closer, and pulled her into his arms. She didn't resist, just clung to him tightly, sobbing into his chest. "You're safe now" he closed his eyes and whisered. "you're safe... I promise." He closed his eyes and let his chin rest on the top of her head. A deep breath came with the welcoming scent of her hair. Something less than noble started to stir within him. For so many years, every bit of affection he'd ever given or received had been second hand... not meant for him, but someone else. But now he was here. All of him was here and...
She pulled away, and wiped her eyes, "I'm sorry."
He reached over and caught her chin gently with one finger, forcing her to look at him. Two red-rimmed brown eyes blinked back at him. "Don't be."
"I should go to bed." She said quietly.
He dropped his hand. He hadn't meant to be so forward. He was supposed to be someone she could trust. "Good idea. I'm sure you'll feel better after a few hours sleep."
She nodded, and dissapeared into the bedroom. He heard the door click closed and laid down on the couch, deciding a little sleep would do him some good too.
"..Rise and Shine, Sam." Al's voice seemed far away.
When Sam opened his eyes it was light, and he could hear traffic noises outside.
"She's in the bathroom, getting ready for work I suppose."
Sam sat up and rubbed his eyes, then got up and went into the kitchen where he figured he'd have less chance of being overheard.
Al popped straight in after him. "She likes you Sam."
"What?" Sam poked about in the cupboards, distracted, looking for something to make coffee with, "What are you talking about?"
"When she got up this morning and you were still asleep, she gave you a blanket... the way she looked at you..."
"Al," Sam whispered, "Why do you have to reduce everything to sex?"
"Who said anything about sex?" Al raised an eyebrow, and Sam tried his best not to look guilty. "All I meant was, whatever you're doing... it's working."
"Oh... sure." Sam turned on the coffee pot and leant against the sink. "Good.. then..."
"Ah-ha..." Al looked suspicious, but changed the subject, "Did you get anything last night? Take a look at those papers?"
The papers. Hed completely forgotten, "Ah, no. I didn't get the chance. I got... distracted..."
"I'd be distracted too if--"
"Al!" Sam pulled him up, "I'll do it today, OK?"
"OK." They heard the bathroom door open. "I'd better get out of here... let you get to your..." Al waited long enough for Amy to appear in the doorway, then ended with a flourish, "Your reading..." with a knowing chuckle he vanished.
"Coffee?"
"I hope I didn't wake you."
"No. I'm an early riser. Habbit formed after being brought up on a farm." He poured the coffee and passed a cup to her. He noticed the bruise on her chin was much more prominant in daylight, even though she'd made an attempt to cover it with makeup. "How are you? Are you sure you need to go to work today? wouldn't it be better if you--"
"I'm fine. It was just a shock, that's all." She pulled up a kitchen chair and sat down. "What about you? Have you found your friend?"
"Well... yes and no. I spoke to his office last night. He'll be out of town for a while."
"If you need a place to stay... You're welcome here."
That was too easy. Sam didn't want to appear over-eager and blow it. "I suppose I should go home... but I was looking forward to the break..." he spent an appropriate amount of time looking thoughtful and then nodded. "Thanks. I'd like that."
"Do you have any luggage?"
"Oh - sure ... it's just--" Sam faltered.
"Still at the airport?" Al suggested as he reappeared.
"I left it all at the airport." Sam cntinued his conversation. "I'll pick it up later."
She nodded, and sipped her coffee. "There's a spare key hanging above the 'fridge. Feel free to come and go as you please. I won't be back until after six."
"Sure. Thanks." He watched her for a while as he sipped his coffee. There was something sad in her eyes, something he couldn't quite place. His heart melted. "Maybe when you get back, you'll let me treat you to dinner." As soon as the words came out he could have kicked himself. He didn't have 2 dimes to rub together.
She raised an eyebrow, "Like a date?"
"No." he said too quickly, "I meant... to thank you for letting me stay here. And you did say you want to run a few theories past me..."
"Oh. Sure." She smiled at him..
It was the first real smile he'd seen out of her, and it touched him. He gave her a goofy smile of his own in return.
"That would be lovely." she put her cup down. "I have to go. I'll see you later."
Sam sat back in his chair and folded his arms, still grinning from ear to ear, "Yeah... take care."
"Sam... I don't believe it. You're operating!" Al shrugged, "Granted, it's bad operating... REALLY bad... but you're doing it..."
Sam waited until he heard the front door close before answering. "You're imaginging things." He sighed, "Talk to Ziggy. We've got a date at the track. And I've got a lot of shopping to do."
"Whoa!" Al looked closer at him, "Did you hit your head while I wasn't looking?"
"I'm supposed to gain her trust right? Don't you think she's going to find it odd if I don't have so much as a suitcase? or she finds me pan-handling on the corner? Like I appeared out of thin air?"
"You DID appear out of thin air."
He sighed, "But Amy's not supposed to know that, is she?" He stood, and snatched the spare set of keys hanging on the wall, "So where am I going?"
"Give me 5 minutes, Sam. I'll have Ziggy plan your itinery and get back to you."
By the time Amy had returned home, Sam had a tattered suitcase full of clothes. Despite the fact he'd won what Al had colourfully described as "A wad that could choke a horse", he'd done most of his shopping at a nearby thrift shop, preferring to have things that looked a little worn to avoid raising suspicion. He'd splurged a little on some new things at Al's urging - a new pair of runners, and a decent suit.
He was wearing the latter when Amy appeared from her room after getting ready for dinner.
He let out a long breath, "You look... beautiful."
She smiled. "You don't look too shabby yourself, Dr. Beckett. Very dashing, if I may say."
He found himself grinning like a schoolboy again - and blushing. "Shall we go?" he offered her his arm, and she took it.
"Have fun you two kids..." Al called after them as they left.
Sam ignored him, but could still hear Al calling as they made their way down the hall.
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
Sam chuckled to himself. As if he'd ever find himself doing anything Al WOULD do.