Chapter 9

United States Virgin Islands

March 2010

After a day of fun in the sun at the beach, Jack and Rose went back to their rental and got ready to go out for dinner. "What would you like?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," Rose said, looking through her selection of clothes, thinking it was too bad she had to wear men's clothing. What she wouldn't do right now for a dress and a pair of high-heels. Just thinking of wearing a dress brought an idea to her mind. "We could..." She shook her head. "No, we couldn't. Not with me looking like... well... this."

"What?" the immortal man asked.

"Well, I was just thinking that the last time I ever danced with anyone was with you and the Doctor aboard the TARDIS."

"Dancing? You want to go dancing?" He smiled. "That can be accommodated."

Rose laughed at his words. "Don't be daft! I look like the poster boy for GQ magazine."

"And?" he asked, this voice indicating he didn't see a problem. "I'm sure we can find a gay bar. It wouldn't be strange there to see two men dancing."

"Me. In a gay bar," she said with a slight frown. She shook her head slightly. "I couldn't. What would my mum say?" She suddenly looked lost, remembering once again the circumstances that separated them.

Jack's went over to her and held her gently. "Your mum would say you need to live your life, Rose. Besides, you don't look like Rose Tyler. You look like Sam Beckett."

She turned to look into the mirror, regarding her reflection. She smiled slightly when she saw Jack come to her side and put his arm around her waist.

He grinned at her. "Besides, wouldn't you like to walk on the wild side?"

She chuckled at his playfulness. "You are so daft!" she taunted him. Tilting her head slightly, she couldn't help but think that Sam Beckett's aura and Jack's handsome face did make a cute couple. "Okay," she finally said bluntly.

"Alright, then. Dinner and dancing."

"If we're going to do this, you get to pick out my clothes. I may know what I like to see gents in but I'm not a gent myself so..."

Jack's grin broadened. "I get to dress Sam Beckett. Would rather undress him but there you go."

Rose slapped his arm playfully. Seeing the surprised look on his face, she told him, "Someone has to stand up for his honor."

Jack looked at her ruefully. "Trust me, he can do that quite well."

"And you would know that because..." she teased, checking her suitcase for the necessary undergarments. She had decided before they even left the United States mainland that she would definitely be more comfortable in boxers.

"Oh, just general reputation," Jack covered. "Al has a whole slew of names for him. Prudent Prince, Mr. Morals, that kind of thing."

"He sounds boring," Rose commented, retrieving the boxers she was looking for before slipping into the bathroom to undress.

"No. Not boring and he's incredibly tolerant of other's lifestyles. He just is rather... conservative in his personal choices."

"Well, I suppose you have to admire that," she said from inside the bathroom. "So, what are you picking out for me?"

He smiled. "Black pleated slacks and a green silk shirt," he replied, the items described in his hands.

"To show off his eyes, I suppose."

"He has great eyes."

"And I don't?"

"You've got lovely eyes, Rose Tyler," Jack said sincerely. He looked away for a moment. "I'm just saying that looking into Sam's eyes is like looking into..." He stopped. "But that's not important. Tonight is what's important and I'm going to show you the time of your life."

She stepped out of the bathroom, clad only in boxers, the clothes she had taken off in her hand. "Jack, can I ask you something?" she questioned as she put on the shirt he'd picked out for her.

"Sure. Anything."

"This may seem a bit forward but... do you have someone back home? I mean, waiting for you in England."

Jack shrugged. "Sort of. Not exactly but sort of. Ianto and and I are currently seeing each other regularly but it's not really serious. I've had a few other relationships. I even settled down a bit for awhile but she died a few years back."

"I'm sorry," Rose said gently.

Jack smiled. "Don't be. You know me. Anyone with a post code."

She laughed at his words. "You just keep telling yourself that but I know you better." She gave him a little smile of understanding. "But I'm glad that you had someone." She grabbed the trousers and slipped them on as she spoke. "I mean, I wouldn't want you to be alone. I feel awful that we didn't go back for you. I don't know why we didn't. It just sort of... happened." She sat on the bed to put on the shoes Jack gave her.

He nodded. "I know. I was pissed afterwards... for a long time, in fact. It still stings some, but I understand it more or less now."

"I'm sorry," she murmured again. "If I could relive it... I would've tried harder to convince the Doctor to go back."

"It's probably just as well," Jack said, cryptically. "Anyway, enough about me." Rose had finished dressing and he gave her a once over. "Fantastic," he said, approvingly.

She grinned at the compliment. "I'm hoping that you aren't just looking at Sam when you make that comment."

"Well, both of you fit the bill, that's for sure."

"What are you going to wear, oh captain, my captain?"

Jack spread his arms. "Already wearing it," he announced.

Rose looked him over, noting the dark blue trousers, sky blue shirt and red suspenders, a white t-shirt underneath. "That? Don't you wear anything else?"

"Hey, I like to be comfortable and quite frankly, this combination looks great on me."

"You're right. It does." She grinned widely at him. "Shows off those baby blues." Her grin got bigger. "You and the Doctor are two peas in a pod."

"I wish I could believe that."

"When it comes to fashion, I mean... and you both have great hair."

"Sam's not bad either," Jack responded, ignoring the statement about the Gallifreyan's coif. "We'll look great together tonight, sweetheart." He put his arm around her to lead her to the door. "Now, let's paint the town red."

Dinner was a resplendent affair even as Jack caroused her with tales of his past, making Rose forget all about the aura that surrounded her. After dinner, the two drove further into the city and, parking a block or so from their destination, walked comfortably to the front door of what could easily be mistaken as a jazz club. A walk through the door, though, showed that it most definitely favored a certain clientele.

"Oh, this is weird," Rose commented, giggling slightly. "I can't believe I'm doing this!"

"What?" Jack asked. "Just people out having fun."

"Yeah, but I'm the only girl here," she countered with a grin. "Good thing the Doctor isn't around. I can just imagine what he'd say."

"Well, there are a few women," Jack said, spotting a couple at a corner booth and another couple on the dance floor. "Granted mostly men and, at the moment, you look quite in place here."

She twirled her hair with her finger as she looked up into his eyes, not realizing that it looked as if Sam were twirling his finger in mid-air as she did so. "So... are you going to buy me a drink or what?"

Jack laughed at the hand gesture. "Oh, if that doesn't make you fit in here, I don't know what would." He answered her query. "You bet. What's your poison?"

"It's not like I've never been in a pub before. Used to sneak out of the house when Mum was asleep and meet my mates in this one pub. Had a fake ID and everything. I'll have a beer," she told him. She pointed out a table on the far end. "That table there, then?"

He nodded. "Okay... you grab the table. I'll get the beers." As he walked to the bar he called back, "And I was talking about your 'feminine moves,' girlfriend. Makes you look a bit of a Dorothy. Quite adorable."

She sighed. "Well, at least I'm fitting in," she mumbled as she sauntered to the table and slipped into a seat, taking a look around. As clubs went, it was a bit more posh than what she was used to. Then again, she doubted there were any upscale clubs around the Powell Estates. Seeing Jack approach with two beers in his hands, she grinned widely at him. "I'm having a great time, Jack. Thanks for breaking me out of that complex."

"No problem. At least we can have a little fun for a few days." A grin crept across his face. "Besides, getting to rub sunscreen on you today was definitely a moment to remember."

"Yeah, I just bet it was," she taunted him. "Bet that guy you sometimes see... what was his name?"

"His name's Ianto. Makes great coffee... among other things."

"Yeah, well, I bet if he'd been around, it would have been memorable in a different way all together. Namely you sleeping in the dog house."

"Oh, Ianto would have been okay with it. He knows me too well to cramp my style. We work together as well." He looked thoughtful. "The first time we met, though, I wasn't sure I was going to like him. Then he brought the group a flying pet and I began to want to know more about him."

"Never took you for a parakeet kind of person."

"I'm not."

"You don't look like a macaw kind of person either," she added.

He took a sip of his beer. "You've got to think bigger... and reptilian."

She looked at him incredulously. "Jack, there are no flying reptiles on Earth. Unless... it's an alien pet."

"Nope. One hundred percent native to Earth. Can I help it if a pterodactyl came through the rift?"

"A pterodactyl in the heart of Cardiff," she stated, staring at him as if he had lost his mind. "You keep a pterodactyl as a pet. Aren't you afraid of becoming its lunch?"

Jack shook his head. "She's been house trained."

"I bet that was a trick."

"Well, it took awhile... and it was great watching Ianto get all sweaty doing it." He didn't mention the fact that early on, he'd also played a role in training Myfanwy but only when he was alone in the Hub. The animal had eventually learned that no matter how many times she killed him, he just came back. She finally stopped killing him to his great relief.

A catchy tune started up. Jack looked over to his companion. "Would you like to dance?"

"That's why we came here, isn't it?" Rose stated more than asked, taking Jack's hand so that he could escort her to the dance floor.

As the two danced, both of them laughing and having a good time, neither of them noticed the gentleman with the camera phone, snapping pictures of them, an awed look on his face.

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Project Quantum Leap

March 2010

The project had been quiet for a few days. With Sam obviously still off the planet and Jack and Rose in the Virgin Islands, Al had time to catch up on some of the more nagging paperwork. Although they didn't have as much government input as before, Uncle Sam hadn't been willing to let go of the project one hundred percent. As a result, Al was in his office putting together the latest report to Washington. He was thus rather surprised when the phone rang and, upon answering, found he was talking to the former Mrs. Sam Beckett.

Donna Elesee had, several years before, decided that as much as she loved Sam she could no longer maintain her life as his wife. There had been a quiet divorce, seemingly uncontested by Sam. Now she was working out on the west coast, teaching for the Cal Tech physics department.

"Hi, Donna," Al said casually. "How are things?"

Donna didn't bother to be subtle about what was on her mind. "Al, why is Sam on the cover of the American Inquisitor? Please tell me it really isn't him."

"What?!" Al replied. "What are you talking about, Donna?"

"Have you seen the cover of the Inquisitor? If it's not him, it's certainly an excellent look-alike, right down to the white streak in his hair."

"I didn't think you read the Inquisitor, Donna."

"I don't," she replied, annoyance in her voice. "But you can't help but see it when you're standing in the check-out line at the grocery store and the headline screams 'Dr. Sam Beckett Found! Where's he's been hiding with his gay lover.' Please..." she emphasized. "Tell me it isn't Sam."

"Oh, shit! You're kidding me, right?" he asked, knowing she wasn't. In almost the same breath he said, quieter, "I knew this was a bad idea."

"What... was a bad idea?" Donna demanded. When an answer wasn't forthcoming, she pressed, "Al... Sam's still leaping, right?"

"Well, yeah. In a sense. This last one's been a record. Going over a month now."

"A month?! The latest leap has been going on for a month?!" she exclaimed. "What could Sam possibly have to fix that would take a month?" A moment later, realization clicked into place. "Al…is the guest still in the Waiting Room? Please, don't tell me the guest is in the Virgin Islands... with a very attractive man," she added, obviously looking at the cover of the Inquisitor as she spoke and admiring the other person in the photo. "Definitely an attractive man."

"Um... well... you know we've been funded though alternative means the last few years. You remember. I told you that we had to do that to keep the project alive?"

"What does your funding have to do with my husband's face being on the cover of a tabloid newspaper?"

Al bit at his lip. "He's not technically your husband anymore, Donna."

"Ex-husband, then. Doesn't mean that I don't care for him. And I still want to know why the Inquisitor is saying that our marriage ended because he has a gay lover."

"Well, the new director decided that under the circumstances, the leapee deserved a little R&R."

"A little R&R," Donna repeated sarcastically. "In a gay dance club in the Virgin Islands?"

"I didn't know he'd do that, Donna, but come to think of it, I should have seen that coming like a Mack truck. Jack's rather... free. I guess it was rather naive to think they'd stay at the house and beach and not go into town."

"So, you let this new obviously gay director take the guest... who's wrapped in Sam's aura... not only out of the complex but also out of the country," she accused incredulously.

"Well, since it's unlikely that Sam's going to leap anytime soon, it seemed like a good idea at the time. And it's not like they had to get passports or go through customs."

She huffed at his words. "Just like you to think something like this is a good idea."

Al listened to her tone and clarified, "Just to be clear, Donna, I thought the trip was a good idea. Not the gay dance club. I didn't know about that."

Ziggy decided at this moment to make her presence known. "Admiral, I've been monitoring your conversation. Based on Dr. Elesee's statements, I've been able to pull up a copy of the cover of the Inquisitor she is referring to. Please check your monitor."

Al saw the picture of what looked to be Captain Jack Harness and Dr. Sam Beckett dancing rather intimately. Under his breath, he stated with a passion to his voice, "I'm going to kill him!"

"Me first," Donna told him bluntly. "Who is this guy anyway?"

"He's the man who's been keeping the project alive the last few years. Without him, we'd have lost Sam for certain."

"Well, if he keeps this up, Sam's reputation will be ruined for sure! I don't want him coming home to find the whole world thinks he has some handsome man-honey in the closet."

"I'll take care of it, Donna." He wasn't sure how, but they needed to do some major damage control.

She sighed. "Good luck. This tabloid just happens to be the American bestseller of them all."

"Yeah. No one said it was going to be easy."

After a brief exchange of farewells, Al hung up with Donna. Within what seemed to be minutes, he got another call. This time it was Tom Beckett calling for the family and wanting to know what the hell was going on. Al calmed him down and, though agreeing with him that the man looked amazingly like Sam, he knew for certain it wasn't him. Once that was taken care of, he wrote up a press release to go out on all major media channels that Sam Beckett was nowhere near the Virgin Island's at present. He knew this would bring up questions as to where Sam was again. The press release simply indicated that Dr. Beckett was unavailable for comment at this time.

"Make sure that gets into the media outlets where it will do the most good," Al told Ziggy. "And get Jack on the phone. We need to talk."

DWQLTWDWQLTW

Melbourne, Australia

At the Prometheus Institute, Lothos noted with fascination the tabloid article concerning the sudden appearance of a person resembling Sam Beckett, as well as the quick redaction which stated that the person in question only strongly resembled the missing physicists. Not believing in coincidences, he took the necessary precautions and sent a couple of his agents to the United States Virgin Islands in order to investigate who this person was. If he was just some person who shared a remarkable similarity to the time traveler, the agents had orders to let the man be. But if he was in fact the good doctor or one of Sam's leapees, they were to insure that the Nobel Prize physicist would die a tragic death.