A/N: Hi guys! So here it is: Part 2!

Enjoy!

xXx
CeruleanBlues

Roads Untraveled

Part 2

New Earth, McKinley IV, Area 24, Torchwood Headquarters
10.04.2805, 0615hrs

She was told that he would be in the training chambers, but nobody had prepared her for the onslaught of bare skin and muscles openly displayed for her viewing pleasure, and her breath hitched in her throat. Later, she would deny ever been ogling his ripped body, but as he whipped around, sensing a presence, her eyes were still glued to his naked torso.

"Can I help you, Quinn?"

The tablet nearly slipped out of her grasp at the low tenor of his voice, and for the umpteenth time, she cursed her stupidity at denying herself the taste of his full lips—lips that were now curled up in a knowing smirk. Flustered that she had been caught red-handed, Quinn hastily tucked the stray strands of fringe behind her ear and squared her shoulders as he sauntered over.

"Erm, yeah," she said shakily, suppressing the delicious shiver that ran down her spine from the proximity alone. "But if you're busy, I can always come back later when you're—" she gulped inaudibly. "Ready."

"No, I'm good," he replied. "What's up?"

She willed herself to focus on anything but the droplet of sweat trailing down the contours of his abdominals. "I think I might have something, but I need your geographical opinion," she speared head-on before she lost any form of self-control. "The codex spoke of five separate coordinates. I've keyed them in, but the computer spouted out locations that didn't quite match up. I was thinking if you could have a look?"

He took the tablet from her and after a couple of taps on the screen, activated the hologram of Gallifrey. Red blinking dots indicated the locations of the respective coordinates that had baffled her the entire morning. It appeared to be at random, uninteresting spots of barren grounds. There wasn't a single landmark or architecture within a mile radius of each, and she was absolutely certain that her translations were correct; had in fact checked them multiple times for discrepancies.

"That's a bit odd indeed," he mused out loud as he examined the map from all angles and directions. "They don't even belong in the same cluster. That's the Ocean of Bal Soon over there, but other than that I can't really tell you anything else. The Kasterborous Constellation is made up of seventeen suns, and hate to break it to you, but Gallifrey wasn't exactly high on my priority list until now."

Quinn arched an eyebrow. "How did you come to know about the Ocean of Bal Soon, then?"

Give up your heart left broken
And let that mistake pass on
'Cause the love that you lost
Wasn't worth what it cost
And in time you'll be glad it's gone

He hesitated, and when he spoke seconds later, his words took on a grim tone. "I lost my dad there. He was chasing a tracking signal on mauve alert and it led him straight to Gallifrey. As soon as he hit the atmosphere, his shield malfunctioned. There was a disturbance in the energy field, short-circuited his engines and he disappeared."

Speechless and more than a little honored that he had shared that bit of himself with her, Quinn interlaced her fingers through his and gave him a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry," she whispered empathetically.

"It's been eight years, but I can still remember the live transmission from his Pilot Box."

"Did they find—"

He shook his head. "No, nothing at all, but they found out what had caused the malfunctions. Timelines were constantly so in flux on Gallifrey, it interferes with frequencies and radio waves every zero point five milliseconds. At that rate, it would take more than a decade to locate the actual crash site; the military couldn't afford the time and resource."

"That's awful—"

Something clicked in her mind.

"Wait, the timelines," she paused, calculating its implications. "There was a mention of its flux patterns in the codex!"

The pair exchanged glances.

"I'll go get the others," Sam informed her. "Maybe Mike can help shed some light on that subject. We'll conjugate in the briefing room."

"Roger that."

New Earth, McKinley IV, Area 24, Torchwood Headquarters
10.04.2805, 0800hrs

"Flux patterns; also known as fluctuation intervals," Mike recited as easily as one would read the ingredients on the box of cereal. "They differ with each planet; for example, New Earth has an infinite temporal flux with at least six accessible dimensions in the space-time continuum—twenty times its gravity and sixteen times faster than its rotation—but we just don't feel it because we're integral to the patterns."

"Dumb it down, Chang," Finn grumbled. "Can't understand a fucking word you're saying."

The other agent rolled his eyes. "Basically, what this means is that even with such a speed, our flux patterns are slower than that on Gallifrey. It would explain the disturbances on radio frequencies and equipment malfunction."

"But scientists have known that for years," Quinn pointed out. "That's why Void Pods were built. It's how we've been traveling to the ruins."

"And it still doesn't explain its significance to the coordinates," Sam chimed in.

Agent Mike Chang rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Your coordinates are based on the Gallifreyan mathematical system. Using the coordinates point blank would mean nothing but off-kilter locations. You need to take the difference in our fluctuation intervals and recalibrate the Galaxy Positioning System."

Sam knew the exact moment it dawned on everybody.

"And if my calculations are correct," the Quantum Mechanics expert continued, tapping rapidly away on his tablet. "The new coordinates will be in—"

A pulsing red dot appeared on the holographic map.

"Arcadia."

New Earth, McKinley IV, Area 24, Torchwood Headquarters
11.04.2805, 1750hrs

With a punctuated tap on the keypad, Quinn hit the option to update her work. Stretching her arms over her head, she watched in satisfaction as color steadily filled the progress bar. Ever since Mike's breakthrough insight on mathematical calculations, the team had been working tirelessly deciphering as much of the codex as possible. It left her mentally drained and as the adrenalin wore off, she felt her eyes droop from exhaustion.

A quick nap would do her good, she reckoned.

The alarm blared, signaling a breech in security with an issued warning on the computer screen and an immediate termination of the file upload. Startled and nearly falling off the chair, she bolted upright to run diagnostics on the system, only to be thwarted when Sam Evans barged into the room, his face pinched with concern and lips pressed in a thin line.

"What's going on?" she demanded.

"Someone is attempting to hack into the system," he brusquely told her. "The Director wants to see us in the briefing room. Pronto."

In a mad scramble, Quinn gathered her belongings, unceremoniously dumping her books and papers into her satchel and followed after the agent, sprinting down the corridors. Team One had already gathered around the circular table when they arrived, and not long after, Director Schuester marched purposefully in with a crazed-looking assistant in his wake.

"We're running out of time," was the first thing out of his mouth. "Our security department has been fighting off hackers and viruses for the past two days, I'm afraid our firewall isn't as impenetrable as we think. Somebody had successfully breeched the system, but we've managed to intercept it before any data was lost."

Quinn felt her blood run cold. "What about my files?"

"They're safe," he reassured her. "But we're initiating Code Black."

She looked to the others in the room. "What's Code Black?"

Sam took a step forward, his arms folded across his broad chest. "Code Black is a camouflage that allows for us to fall off the radar completely."

Unperturbed, she mirrored his stance. "And what does that mean exactly?"

"We're going to blow up a spaceship."

Pisces-Cetus Supercluster Complex, Kasterborous Constellation
12.04.2805, 1500hrs (New Earth)

Sam activated the quantum force fields as The Penetrator was set to orbit around one of Gallifrey's suns. After checking that the temperature regulators were in place, he made his way to the front of the flight deck to check on his team. Puck was in the pilot's seat, Brody assisting him with calculations while Finn kept an eye on path circles. Beyond the viewing panels, the darkness of outer space consumed them.

"What's our ETA, Puck?"

"Twenty-three minutes to Void Pods drop zone," the Mohawk agent replied.

Sam nodded. "All right. Mike, give me a status report on the pods. Are they ready?"

"They're good and cleared for the plunge, Sam," came a reply through the speakers.

"Quinn, I want you to get suited up," he ordered. "I'll meet you down at the launch deck in five."

The female epigrapher had already donned half of the gear when he reached to greet her with the rest of his gadgets, but she seemed to be struggling with the thickly padded vest. When he approached to lend a hand, she sighed in relief, a grateful smile on her face.

"It's a bit too tight," he pointed out. "You're going to suffocate to death."

"Yeah, I know," she grumbled with a bit of a hop as she tried to reach for the fastening. "But I can't—could you loosen the back—"

Wordlessly, he circled behind her and gave the deadlock strap a hard tug, releasing the catch and allowing for the body armor to slide easily down her torso. When she was comfortable with the fitting, he promptly tightened the Velcro that secured her sides before physically rotating her body so that he could work on the front. He made sure that her wires weren't exposed, that she wouldn't risk getting them tangled during the bumpy landing. So engrossed he was in the task that he didn't realize his fingers unintentionally brush over her ample chest, until her breathy gasp caused his muscles to freeze.

Seconds felt like eternity as he summoned the courage to meet her stunning hazel eyes.

"Erm…I—I—" He flushed a deep shade of crimson, realizing that he was stammering like a bleeding idiot. "How—does it—does it fit okay now?"

"Yeah," she whispered. "It's fine."

"Okay, then, that's good," he babbled on. "Well, that vest is thermal-regulated, so in any case that the pod burns up and the temperature gauge malfunctions, it will collect your vitals and do an automatic override manual that activates the cooling system."

"Great. Perfect."

After that, his touches were more tentative, his nerves more aware of every placement. When he assisted in slipping her arms into the sleeves of her black protective suit, he became so cautious, it felt like he was in kindergarten just learning about girls and cooties. His reactions were utterly ridiculous. For her part, Quinn appeared completely calm and composed, seemingly unaffected by the way he was tiptoeing around her.

"And this is your very own wrist monitor," he said, brandishing an object she was familiar with. "It has an in-built tracker, of course, and the basic data storage. Your files have been uploaded into the device and you can access information to any member of the team."

He observed as she gave it a quick test drive, experimenting with the different functions.

"When you're down there, this vest camouflages your body's thermal reading so that you won't be detected," he further explained, shifting closer to demonstrate its uses, once again bringing them in dangerously close proximity. "Also, it has been programmed to identify our DNA signatures. It'll give you stats on each member; for example, you'd know if one of us are indispensable or otherwise severely injured or dead."

She paled at the thought.

"It's just a precaution," he rushed to add in. "Nobody has died on my watch, I promise."

"Good to know," she murmured, hooking the earpiece in place. "Do you have a spare battery pack?"

"It's solar-powered."

"Glad that Torchwood is doing its part to save the environment," she teased with a coquettish tongue-touched grin.

"We do what we can," he quipped, giving her a playful wink.

Puck's voice cackled over the intercoms.

"Ten minutes to drop zone."

"You ready?" Sam asked her with an arch of his eyebrow.

"Let's do this."

Kasterborous Constellation, Gallifrey, Arcadia
12.04.2805, 1535hrs (New Earth)

The drop was a fucking bitch. She cursed the day that Vortex Manipulators were banned on eighteen different planets as she felt as if her body was being torn apart in every foreseeable way. Eyes tightly shut, she fought against the vertigo spinning in her head, grinding her teeth together in an effort to stay conscious. Vaguely, she was aware of someone's frantic voice in her ear, but as she opened her mouth, the words were being swallowed by her desperate gasps.

Temperatures rose in the tiny pod, heating up the air inside the tiny pod like a damn oven. Perspiration trickled down the side of her cheek and blurred her vision. She blinked them away and stole a quick glimpse at the gauge as it flashed a critical warning. Instinct screamed for her to hit the eject button, knowing that it was her last resort if all else failed. In a moment of panicked resolve, she wrapped her fingers around the lever and winced, snatching her hand back as the scorching metal seared through her skin.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Just when she feared she would be human roast, the cooling system kicked in.

And then the countdown began. The five-point harness kept her properly bound to the jump seat, but even then, she clutched onto anything she could for purchase and braced for impact. It came with a force of a speeding comet, and then everything spun out of control as she clung on for dear life. In the mad spiral, she found the handbrakes and effectively deployed the parachute. It was a full minute of slow rolling until eventually the pod came to a complete stop.

"Mother of God—"

"You all right, there, Quinn?"

She hungrily inhaled in gulps of air, hoping to will away the mounting nausea. "Yeah, Sam, I'm good."

"Okay, then, I'll see you later."

"Not if I see you first."

Unbuckling her restraints, Quinn spent a couple of seconds engaging in some deep breathing exercises before pulling herself together and crawling out of the tiny door.

The familiar smell of dry sand and dirt was like a warm welcome home. No matter how many times she'd visited Gallifrey, she didn't ever get tired of its beauty. The array of vibrant colors that she was greeted with—rocks and patches of grass that were shades of red, brown, purple and gold—never failed to astound her every single time. Trees that bore bright silver leaves; and just over the horizon, vast mountains shone white in the sunlight—endearingly referred to as 'a forest on fire'—but she knew, beyond that stunning beauty were the dreadful wastelands.

A deafening crack ripped her attention away from the scenery, and as she gazed up at the burnt orange sky, another explosion boomed resonantly with an echo that spanned a hundred light years. A cloud of ashen smoke gathered, and she watched as it created a ball of plasma that expanded and anti-climatically faded away. Her earpiece screeched from the electromagnetic pulses. Wincing from the piercing frequency, she automatically ripped it off.

Her wrist monitor started beeping then, and picked up on Mike's DNA signature five miles away. A beat later, Puck's stats sprang up not far from where she was, followed closely by Finn's and Brody's.

"Come on, Sam," she urged quietly. "Where are you?"

He appeared, then, a thermal silhouette a hundred yards away, and she slipped her earpiece back on.

"Alright team," his deep voice spoke smoothly. "Congratulations on surviving that wretched trip. Officially, we're all dead and nothing but particles in deep space, but down here, we still have an important mission to accomplish. Gather your gear and we'll meet at an intersection thirteen degrees north."

Quinn ducked back into the Void Pod to retrieve her belongings, grimacing at the blister forming across her palm. Fishing out a clean sock from her backpack, she gingerly wrapped it over the swell before slinging her satchel over a shoulder. Double-checking on the coordinates that Sam had sent through, she swiftly determined her direction and began walking.

Kasterborous Constellation, Gallifrey, Arcadia
12.04.2805, 1810hrs (New Earth)

They set up camp in a little nook out of sight, sitting in a ring around a portable heater. Nights were frigid in Gallifrey but building a fire was out of the equation. Years of field training and survival tests had made the agents tolerable to the cold, though they couldn't share the sentiment with the only female in the group.

Since they were sleeping in shifts, Sam had volunteered to take on the grueling eight hours that nobody else really wanted.

Snuggled up in a thermal-regulating sleeping bag with her vest and protective suit still on, he couldn't help but stare. Her brows were furrowed, hazel eyes glued to her work as she furiously jotted down notes in her journal. A piece of cloth caught his attention, and it was only then did he notice her bandaged hand and wondered why his wrist monitor hadn't picked up on that during the full-body scan.

"Did you hurt yourself?"

She blinked, as though she hadn't realized that he'd been sitting there all along, and in a confused daze, tilted her head questioningly. He gestured to her wrapped-up wound and repeated himself.

"Oh," she hesitated. "Well, it was stupid. I held onto the eject lever by accident and kind of, you know, scalded myself."

He frowned, failing to understand why she hadn't informed him of it earlier.

"But I'm fine, really," she blurted out, mistaking his sour look for something else. "It just stings a bit, but other than that, I'm perfectly fine."

"Come here," he muttered. "Let me have a look at it."

"No, really—" she protested.

"Don't fight me on this, Quinn," he sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just let me have a look."

She shuffled over, albeit reluctantly, and lowered herself down in front of him, knees drawn to her chest as she timidly held her injured hand out for his full inspection. Delicately, he cradled it and released the knot that kept the sock together.

Sam exhaled a ragged breath as she ruefully gnawed on her bottom lip. A grisly red blister was stretched out across the small span of her palm, a nasty thing that looked so out of place against her silky smooth skin. She flexed her fingers, uncomfortable under his close scrutiny, and it jolted him out of his stupor. Reaching into the side pocket of his trousers, Sam pulled out a small cylindrical container. He popped the lid open and poured its contents over the angry welt. Miniscule glowing specks buzzed around for a moment before locating their targets.

"What are those?" Quinn asked, staring in amazement at the particles swarming around her hand. She giggled, then. "It kind of tickles."

He grinned at her reaction. "They're Nanogenes," he explained. "Subatomic robots used for healing superficial wounds."

"That's incredible," she exclaimed when the atoms dispersed back into the canister and her skin was left without a single scratch or scar. "Why aren't they using Nanogenes in clinics and hospitals?"

"They will soon," he nodded. "Torchwood gets first dibs on all the technology before they hit the markets."

"Well, thanks, again," she said with one of her trademark radiant smiles. "That was a rather neat trick."

"You're welcome. Again."

A minute passed, and then two, the silence and occasional stray sounds of the howling wind between them. He found himself stealing glimpses over at her profile, the straight slope of her nose, the angle of her jaw, the length of her lashes, and when his gaze landed on the swell of her mouth, the urge to take her in his arms and snog her senseless was so strong, he had to squeeze his eyes shut to block the images away.

The effort was fruitless.

And then he felt it; barely there, a whisper of a caress as those lips he so vividly dreamt of each night brushed against his in startling clarity. He tried to dismiss it, unable to stomach the disappointment if reality came crashing down and she hadn't indeed just kissed him, but he knew he couldn't have imagined it the second time. It was firmer, more certain, and he allowed himself to finally indulge in his desires. Fingers threaded through her soft tresses, now free of her hair tie as she whimpered. A low rumble escaped his chest—a groan he might be mildly embarrassed about—and then she was pulling away.

"Sam…" she trailed off uncertainly until he dared to lift his eyelids, her face a scant of breath away. "Is this—is this going to make things awkward?"

That was a valid question.

"I—I hope not."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, 'cause I'd very much like to do that again."

A smile bloomed on her gorgeous face that could rival that of the most beautiful sunrise.

"We should probably wait till this is all over, though," she suggested, albeit reluctantly. "You know, for posterity's sake."

"Oh, yeah, of course," he cleared his throat. "You're right. We should…wait."

She turned, sitting primly with her hands on her knees, and once again, the lull of the night engulfed them. Sam stiffly rubbed the nape of his neck, trying to dispel the tension now knotted at the tip of his spine.

"Although…"

A smirk stretched across her features. "Although?"

"We have a good six hours before the others wake up."

Quinn laughed, a musical tinkling sound.

"Don't even think about it."

Kasterborous Constellation, Gallifrey, Arcadia
13.04.2805, 0700hrs (New Earth)

"So now that we're here, what exactly are we looking for," Puck spoke up during breakfast, chewing on a piece of granola bar. "How are we going to find the Book of Rassilon?"

"Perhaps we shouldn't talk about it so blatantly," Mike piped in. "You'd never know who's listening. There could be bugs planted everywhere in this planet, we can't risk a chance."

"You're right," Sam agreed, capping his bottle of water. "We need a codename."

"Let's call is Hummel's Holy Grail," Quinn quipped, an inflection of mischief in her voice.

"What?" Finn snickered. "Why?"

The female epigrapher actually rolled her eyes. "It's not much of code, really. Burt Hummel was a space explorer. Some two hundred years ago, he discovered the great civilization of the Time Lords. He sparked an epic evolution in archaeological history, and though he might not have known about the book back then, I would think finding it would have been his greatest achievement."

"Hummel's Holy Grail it is, then," Brody decided with a clap of his hands.

"Still doesn't answer my other question," Puck sighed, never one for being patient or ignored. "How are we going to find it?"

Quinn reached into her satchel and produced her trusted journal, flipping through the pages until she came to what she was looking for. Almost simultaneously, all five agents crowded around her for a better view. Amused, she turned her eyes to Sam, who was trying his best not to glare at his fellow men.

"The coordinates point to five locations, each fifty miles apart," she began, and using her wrist monitor, projected a hologram of the topographical map of Arcadia. Red dots blinked to signify the specific areas. "Only problem is, there's nothing but flat land within a hundred-mile radius; no architecture, no ruins."

"What about the scribes?" Mike asked, keenly studying the notes made in her book. "Anything in there to suggest a more specific coordinate?"

"Unfortunately, that's about it," she revealed in chagrin. "I've begun translating the second volume, but the first few pages were explicitly precise directions—six feet ten degrees south, eight feet twenty degrees west—that only led to a blank wall. Literally, that was the exact translation and I'm still not sure what to make of it, honestly. There was no mention about where those directions originate or start."

The group spent some time pondering on her words.

"Could those five coordinates possibly be markers?" Sam mulled over, looking thoughtful.

"You mean, like the one from the Enigma-3 heist?" Brody chimed in.

Quinn squinted at them, clearly confused. "I don't follow."

"A couple of years ago, we were on a mission on Enigma-3 to stop a religious group responsible for the heists around the Highland Continent," Sam explained, somewhat nostalgically, if the slight grin on his boyish face was anything to go by. "Their target sites were sporadic locations that made no sense, so it was nearly impossible to predict where they might strike next, until Mike identified a pattern: that the order of each heist corresponded with something of significance, and when they're joined together, created The Seno, a symbol of their religion."

"So what you're saying is—"

"Perhaps those five coordinates correspond with Time Lord history or a Gallifreyan hieroglyph," he finished.

Quinn snapped her fingers. "Circular Gallifreyan."

Twenty minutes later, she had it cracked.

"Boys, set your coordinates. I think I've found it."

Kasterborous Constellation, Gallifrey, Arcadia
13.04.2805, 0920hrs (New Earth)

Two hours of trekking later, they emerged over a dune and stared down at the shallow crater surrounded by sharp, pointed ridges. It was an unfortunate sight as she imagined the once-bustling civilization, wondering it they had probably used the grounds for recreational activities or some other Time Lord games, now lay in an empty pit of rocks and dust.

"Is that it?" Puck remarked skeptically.

Quinn nodded mutely.

"Doesn't look like much," Finn commented, checking on his wrist monitor for confirmation. "Are you sure this is it?"

"You are welcome to check the codex for yourself if you want," she retorted, peeling the sleeves of her protective suit off and tying a knot around her waist. With the sun directly overhead—during one of Galliefrey's hottest season—and beating down mercilessly, it felt like a global meltdown in Arcadia. It was starting to make her cranky.

"I'm just saying—"

"All right, Finn, that's enough," Sam cut in before the guy could spout out anything that would further offend her intelligence. "The only way to know for sure is if we go down there, so let's just keep our opinions to ourselves until then, shall we?"

The slopes leading down to the crater was steep and the only way to descend was through rappelling. Sam grinned lopsidedly down at her as he tightened the gate on her carabiner and ensured that the ropes were properly secured. He gave a few experimental tugs, and when he was done, his hands lingered at the sides of her ribcage, his thumbs lightly brushing the underside of her breasts.

"What is it?"

"You do realize that Finn's a bit of an idiot, right?" he chuckled.

"I knew that the first three minutes I saw him," she replied cheekily. "But I also know that he's harmless, so you really didn't have to worry about him hurting my feelings. I get that a lot, being one of a small handful of women in the archaeological field."

"You're brilliant, though, you know?"

Her tongue peeked out between her teeth. "I do."

Before she was able to register anything else, however, he had dropped a chaste peck on her lips and had scampered off to check on his own equipment. The small gesture caused an unmentionable amount of fluttering in the pit of her stomach, the unexpectedness of it sending a sudden rush of blood up to her cheeks.

"He's going to be the death of me."

Kasterborous Constellation, Gallifrey, Arcadia
13.04.2805, 1100hrs (New Earth)

Their technical equipment started malfunctioning almost immediately as they set foot on the base of the crater. All of their wrist monitors were acting up, beeping and receiving a disturbance in frequency. Mike reckoned it was due to residual pulses in the area from excessive use of Vortex Manipulators or quantum force fields. While everybody else attempted to salvage their pieces of technology, Sam observed with interest as Quinn kept her eyes trained on the ground, dragging her boots back and forth as she swept the rubble aside in search of something. Intrigued, he walked up to her.

"What are you looking for?"

"Hieroglyphs," she answered distractedly.

"Okay, so circles and lines, then?"

Her laughter was sheer bliss to his ears. "Yeah, circles and lines."

"Is it any type of circle and lines or a specific one?" Puck called out from a few feet away. "Because there's a group of four of those stacked up on top of one another over here."

Sam and Quinn raced over.

"That's it! That's the one!"

A/N: There we go! End of part 2! It's going to be a bit more action-packed in the next update, and this is where the fun adventure begins. LOL! This actually reminds me of the times when I wrote Whisper in my Ear, actually.

NileyOvergron: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review! I'm glad that you like the story so far, especially since it's a whole different genre from what I'm usually used to writing. Just thought I'd exercise my geeky side a bit and see what I can come up with. The next chapter of THA is still work-in-progress. Each update actually takes a bit more time because the style of writing is a bit more difficult. Hope you've enjoyed this update!

ReadingFanfiction13: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I really appreciate it! I'm glad the genre interests you! I've always had a geeky side that I sort of try and stifle every time I write, but I reckon now is a good time to unleash my inner nerd and indulge in myself just this once. I had initially thought to write a full story like the one I did for Whisper in my Ear, but sci-fi is actually a really tough genre to write, and when I started halfway on the first part, I knew I just didn't have enough knowledge to support it, so I decided on a compromise and settled for a 4-parter. Hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Cheers!

OhHeyAl: Hi there! LOL! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a review! I really appreciate it, capital letters and all! I'm glad that there are fellow nerds out there sharing an interest in sci-fi as I do because it's so tough to write. Frankly, I have no idea how people write for Star Trek and Doctor Who. It's like writing in a different language. Hope you've enjoyed this update! Cheers!

RJRRAA: Hello there! OMG, you're too cute! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing with such wonderful comments even though it's a lot more difficult to imagine and understand. Honestly, you don't really need to know the technicalities of the story because they're jargon words that mean nothing most of the time. The gist is that Sam is a secret agent and Quinn is an epigrapher, and they're on an alien planet to find an ancient book before someone else gets it; kind of like The Mummy, actually. Hope you've enjoyed this chapter! Cheers!

FabrevansFTW: Hi there! Thank you so much for reading and leaving a wonderful review! I really appreciate it! Well, you don't really need to watch Doctor Who to grab the basic gist of the story, of course. The Doctor Who bits were just an added bonus to satisfy my geeky side. LOL! Things between Sam and Quinn are definitely moving along, and things will get pretty interesting soon! Cheers!

Guest: Hello there! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I'm glad you liked the first part of the story! Sam and Quinn will always be magnetically drawn to each other in my point of view, no matter what story it is.

Song used: "Roads Untraveled" by Linkin Park