Monday March 19th, 2007 ~ Waiting Room ~ Project Quantum Leap Compound ~ Stallion's Gate, New Mexico

Giles remained standing near the table in the center of the room, silently considering the woman, who had also maintained her position near the doorway. The door slid shut and Giles was relieved that one factor among an array of problems had been removed, at least temporarily: the armed guard he had seen now had no line of fire into the room.

"I don't know anyone named Maggie Walsh," Dr. Beeks informed him. "And I'm pretty much the original article as far as my position here," she added with a friendly smile.

"And where would 'here' be?" Giles asked, in a tone that suggested he didn't really expect an answer and might not believe her if she supplied one.

"That's a little complicated. Al usually provides the explanation for our visitors but you weren't in a particularly receptive frame of mind when he approached you," she replied.

"'Visitors'?" Giles seized upon the plural. "You have others here? If you've harmed her... them," he began in warning as he took several steps to come round the table.

Verbena Beeks took a step back toward the door, which had opened to admit Al. They collided in the doorway as she was moving backwards and Al had been concentrating on his hand-link display.

"Whoa, Doc," Al warned, grasping her by the elbows so she wouldn't fall - and possibly take him with her. "What's going on? I thought he had calmed down," Al complained seeing that, although Giles had halted a foot or so past the edge of the table, he had a dangerous gleam in his eyes, his fists were clenched and he was breathing heavily.

"I told him you usually explain things to our visitors. He assumed we have one or more of his friends here," Verbena explained.

"Oh, okay," Al said with some relief. He swept one hand toward the open doorway, encouraging the psychiatrist to leave. "I'll take it from here."

Dr. Beeks shifted her gaze to the irate visitor and back to Al, her doubt that this was a good idea clear on her face.

Al smiled. "We'll be fine, sweet cheeks." He cocked his head swiftly at the door. "Go on, scram." The woman gave him a brief nod and fleeting smile and left the room. As the door slid shut behind her, Al turned fully toward the center of the room and approached Rupert Giles.

"Who else did you bring here? Are they all right? Let me talk to them!" Giles demanded.

"Calm down, fella," Al advised, halting a few feet short of the seething man. "All your friends are right where they belong. When Verbena said 'visitors' she meant we have had more than one visitor but only one at a time. This time it's you."

"Why do you continue to refer to me as a visitor when, clearly, I'm your prisoner?" Giles inquired.

Al sighed. "I'm sorry, Giles - you go by Giles, right?"

Giles, whose eyes had widened at being called by name, recovered sufficiently to give a slight nod of confirmation.

"Well, Giles," Al continued, motioning toward the low table and seating himself once Giles had, grudgingly, perched at the other end. "I'm sorry we have to keep you here, but it's really for your own good. I can't tell you everything but I can give you some information." When Giles opened his mouth to speak, Al held up a hand. "As I said, you're not the first visitor we've had and you'll pardon me if I anticipate a few of your more burning questions - it'll save us time, believe me."

When Giles subsided and disposed himself to listen, Al nodded at him approvingly and went on.

"First, we are not a part of or even associated with," Al glanced down at his hand-link and frowned. "The Initiative?" he snorted. "Must be Army. Anyway," he went on, looking back up at Giles. "We are not them, whoever they are. We didn't bring you here deliberately and we're only keeping you here for your own protection. You'll go right back where you belong, probably within a week - give or take a few days."

"If you are, as you say, benevolent," Giles interrupted. "Let me go now."

"I can't do that, Giles," Al raised a hand once more to stave off another outburst. "Meaning we really can't, not that we don't want to. You'll go back, but we can't exactly control when."

Al proceeded to tell Giles about the Project: how Sam had believed he would be able to observe history; how they had been dismayed when it turned out he had actually traveled back in time; how they had discovered that, by changing history, Sam could Leap from life to life; and their mutual notion that a Higher Power had taken over the Project in order to right past wrongs.

"So it seems someone up there," Al concluded. "Has decided that something needs to be fixed in your life, or the life of someone close to you - so Sam Leaped into your persona. The sooner we figure out what that something is, the sooner you go back to your new, improved life." He gave Giles his most winning, 'trust-me-I'm-on-your-side' smile.

"That's preposterous," Giles told him.

Al sighed. "Okay, you're not on board yet. How much do you know about quantum physics? I can try to convince you with science."

"It isn't the possibility of the science ultimately becoming available, given sufficient time, resources and properly capable and educated minds being applied to the problem that I find difficult to accept," Giles corrected him. "If you were telling me the truth you wouldn't have told me any of this. Or if you did you wouldn't have any intention of sending me back to the past with this sort of knowledge."

"You won't remember anything that happens here," Al countered. "It's part of the Leap effect. Or the Higher Power. Whatever, you won't remember."

Giles considered the calm, sympathetic look the smaller man was giving him. After a long silence he sighed and shook his head. "It doesn't really matter whether or not I believe you. I won't tell you anything."

"All I'm talking about is making this quicker and easier on you. This is the future, man. We have some pretty serious computer power here and, if necessary, we can research you 'til we figure out what needs to be fixed." The odd combination of sorrow and humor in the man's eyes gave Al pause.

"I sincerely doubt that," Giles intoned, dropping his head and staring at his hands.

"You're worried about her for some reason, aren't you," Al guessed. "Buffy, I mean."

Giles head shot up and he pinned Al with a smoldering glare but he didn't speak.

"I was listening with one ear when I came in. You said 'If you've harmed her' then you substituted 'them'. Nice try, but I caught it. What's so damned secret about your life, huh? Honest to God, we're only trying to help."

The two men stared at one another for a long time and Al was about to give up and leave when Giles spoke.

"Put yourself in my shoes," Giles said softly but firmly. "I'm you and your friend Sam is Buffy. He's facing the most dangerous situation of his life and I'm holding you prisoner and incommunicado but say I'm just trying to help. All you have to do is tell me everything you know - who the two of you are, what you do, everything. What do you do?"

Giles met the smaller man's eyes with a steady gaze. While Al had been explaining the Project to him Giles had recognized, in the way Al talked about Sam, that they shared a level of devotion and commitment to each other and to something larger than themselves, just as he and Buffy did. Giles watched as Al considered his question. Finally, he saw understanding and resignation register in Al's eyes.

"So, you begin to appreciate my position," Giles concluded.

"Yeah, I'm afraid I do," Al admitted. "But that doesn't help them or us, does it?"

"No," Giles agreed, with sincere regret. "I don't suppose it does."

End Part 3