A Leap For Ray
Linda Hughes
  

Due South and all of its characters belong to Alliance Communications.
Quantum Leap and all of its characters belong to Donald P Bellisario. 

Views to: linda18@ntlworld.com 

Story page: http://www.1freespace.com/linda1/ 

My first attempt at a crossover story so be kind! Due South meets
Quantum Leap. 

Enjoy. 

  A LEAP FOR RAY by Linda Hughes 

  "I awoke to find myself trapped in the past, facing mirror images
that were not my own, and driven by an unknown force to change history
for the better" (Dr. Sam Beckett) 

  

"Oh boy," Dr. Sam Beckett stared into the long length mirror, his mouth
gaping open. He was looking at the handsome face of tall, dark haired
man with deep blue eyes, hair neatly combed, dressed in the uniform of
a Mountie. "I'm Nelson Eddy," he groaned to himself as he looked up and
down at his reflection - in his hands he clutched a light brown stetson
tightly. 

"Yo Frase," someone from behind shouted impatiently. "Earth to Fraser,"
the voice shouted again. 

Sam turned towards the owner of the voice instinctively knowing that he
was being called; that he was Fraser. A tall, skinny man with wild
spiky blonde hair grinned at him, his light blue eyes sparkling with
amusement. 

"Ya coming or what?" the blonde asked. "Pitter patter. Let's get at
'em," he encouraged as he bounced down the steps towards a shiny black
car double parked in the street.  

Sam turned back to the mirror; he sighed as he placed the stetson
hesitantly on his head before running down the steps to join the
blonde-haired man, who was now sitting in the car impatiently tapping
his fingers on the steering wheel. "Sometime today would be nice
Frase," he grinned peering over the top of his sun glasses as Sam slid
into the passenger seat nearly knocking the stetson off his head. 

"Sorry," Sam murmured deciding to place the stetson on the dashboard -
it fitted perfectly. Sam grabbed the dashboard to steady himself as the
car swerved into the heavy morning traffic with a screech of tyres. As
he settled back into his seat, Sam caught the mischievous grin on his
companion's face and he smiled back; he had a feeling that they were
good friends. 

"So where's Dief, and what's he done this time?" the blonde asked
glancing sideways. "Don't tell me. He's eaten the Ice Queen." 

Sam groaned silently staring out of the windscreen; he hated this part
of the Leap never knowing what his answer should be. "Dief. Ice Queen,"
he wondered to himself if it was some sort of code. "Dief?" Sam
murmured cautiously. 

"Yeh. Ya know," his companion grinned again. "Kinda furry. White.
Wolflike. Steals doughnuts when yer not looking." 

"Diefenbaker is your wolf," a familiar voice said from the back seat.
"And you left him back at the Consulate." 

"Wonder where you'd gotten to," Sam murmured turning slightly in his
seat. Al Calavicci sat slouched in the back seat, the familiar cigar in
his mouth. "I had a hot date with Tina last night," Al started to
explain. Sam shot him a dirty look, which immediately silenced his
holographic friend. Turning back to his companion. "As you were in such
a hurry, I seem to have left Diefenbaker at the Consulate." 

"Sorry about that," his companion smirked. "So who were ya talking to
just then?" he asked risking a look over his shoulder to the empty
backseat. 

"Myself," Sam mumbled, not able to think of another answer. 

"Oh. OK," the blonde nodded apparently satisfied with the reply. Sam
suppressed a look of surprise at his companion's easy acceptance of his
response, wondering to himself what kind of man Fraser was. Sam sighed
to himself as he tried to imagine what this Leap was going to bring.
The remainder of the journey was completed in amicable silence. Sam
kept casting looks to the backseat; Al had disappeared but he knew that
his friend would return to give him details of the Leap. 

Sam took a deep breath as they swerved off the street, parking in a
small car-park behind a dirty looking brick building. Sliding out of
his seat, Sam followed his companion towards the building looking
around him as he went. "Chicago Police Department - 27th Precinct," he
read as his companion held the glass door open for him.  

The inside of the building looked like any other police station Sam had
ever had the misfortune to visit - dirty yellow walls with the vague
odour of day-old coffee and filled with the sounds of people going
about their daily business, some of them hurling abuse and obscenities
as they were dragged towards the holding cells.  

"I'm gonna get a coffee before we start on the paperwork," his
companion said as they walked up the corridor. "Can I get ya anything?"


"Coffee," Sam replied as he looked around searching for Al. 

"Ya want coffee?" his companion sounded surprised. 

"Yes," Sam said distractedly as he noticed Al leaning lazily on a door
frame, eyeing up two female police officers.  

"Oh. OK," the blonde said moving towards the break room. "How do ya
want it?" 

"Like yours will do," Sam said over his shoulder as he moved towards Al
trying to catch his attention. Sam missed the look of surprise on his
companion's face and the shrug of the shoulders as he made his way into
the break room. 

Moving closer to Al, Sam inclined his head towards a door. Al grinned
at him and blew a kiss to the two female officers as he followed Sam
into what turned out to be an Interrogation Room.  

Al wolf whistled as Sam firmly closed the door behind him. "Nice
uniform Sam," he grinned as he lit a cigar blowing smoke in Sam's
direction. He circled his friend looking up and down appraisingly. "Red
suits you. And those boots. Do you think I would look good in the
uniform?" he asked. "I just bet Tina would love it. All that leather,"
Al continued to circle Sam. "How do you think I would look in red?
Wonder where I can get a uniform like that," he mused taking another
puff of his cigar. 

"Al," Sam hissed "Will you stop going on about my uniform. And tell me
why I'm here." 

"Oh yeah," Al stopped his scrutiny of Sam's uniform. He removed his
cigar as he studied the brightly coloured handlink in his hand. "Let's
see," he pressed one of the coloured buttons; bright lights flashed
across the handlink in synchronism. "It's the 18th February 1999. And
you are Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP. Deputy Liaison Officer at the
Canadian Consulate in Chicago," he regarded Sam again for a moment.
"That would explain the uniform." 

"No kidding," Sam sighed raising his eye brows in exasperation.  

Al grinned; the lights of the handlink began to dim and he hit the
mechanism on its side making the lights flicker wildly and then
brighten. "You came here on some sort of trail. And stayed for one
reason or another."  

"So if I'm a Mountie," Sam interrupted, his expression one of
puzzlement. "Why I am here at the 27th precinct?" 

Al peered down at the handlink again. "Says here that you are the
unofficial partner of Detective First Grade Raymond Vecchio. And that
you help him and the CPD in some of their cases." 

"Oh," Sam muttered. "So does it say why I am here?" 

"No data yet," Al said. "But Gooshie and Ziggy are working on it." 

"Oh great," Sam said moving towards the door. "So I get to be Nelson
Eddy until Gooshie and Ziggy figure out why I am here." 

"That's about the long and short of it,"Al grinned taking a puff of his
cigar as he followed Sam out of the door and along the corridor towards
the squad room. "Nice looking women here," Al noted as he passed by
another group of uniformed policewomen eyeing them up and down as he
went. 

"Al," Sam hissed. "Behave will you? You're in a police station for
God's sake." 

"But they can't see me," Al protested as he followed Sam into the squad
room. "So what's the harm in just looking." Sam was looking around the
room trying to find his partner. "Over there," Al pointed with his
cigar to the corner of the room where Ray was slumped behind his untidy
desk listening as a slender well dressed woman shouted at him for
mislaying a file.  

"Stell. Yer being unreasonable," Ray protested. "Don't worry I'll find
the file. It's here somewhere," he started to search the untidy desk
accidentally knocking some files to the floor. 

"This is not the first time you have lost a file. You had better find
it quick," Stella Kowalski said ignoring Ray as he scrabbled on the
floor to pick up the files. "And you haven't seen unreasonable yet." 

Al pressed a bright red button on the handlink. "Sam. There's a 45.6%
chance that you are here to help bring them together." 

"I don't think so," Sam whispered. "Just look at the way they're going
at each other." 

Al pressed another button. "Our records show that Raymond Vecchio and
Stella Kowalski marry and move to Florida to open a bowling alley," he
said looking over to the couple again. "But you could be right. But
then again my third wife and I.... or was it my fourth...," he stopped
mid sentence as Sam glared at him. "Well anyway we used to fight all
the time even though we loved each other." 

"And I want that file on my desk by the end of the week," Stella
shouted over her shoulder as she stalked past Al and Sam. Al wolf-
whistled quietly as Stella passed by, his eyes following her as she
strode out of the squad room. "Nice legs," he murmured. 

"Can you keep your mind on the matter at hand?" Sam hissed throwing Al
another dirty look. He turned away from Al in disgust; Ray was
motioning him over to his desk. "Got ya coffee," Ray said. "And
Turnbull dropped Dief off for ya," he indicated the large white wolf
laying asleep under his desk. 

Sam smiled. "Thank you kindly," he found himself saying wondering where
the term came from. Accepting the cup of coffee, Sam instinctively sat
down in the chair in front of the desk, settling the stetson on his
knees. He pulled a face as he took a sip of the coffee - it was sweet
and tasted of chocolate. 

"Well ya did say ya wanted it like mine," Ray grinned as he dropped
some M&Ms into his own coffee. 

"So what was that all about?" Sam asked curious. 

"Oh ya know.... lost a file under all this," Ray indicated the untidy
desk. "And the Stella got mad. So nothing new there," he shrugged, but
Sam thought he heard a hint of hurt in Ray's voice. 

"I could help you look for the file," Sam offered smiling as he took
another sip of his coffee - he was getting used to the taste.  

"Nah," Ray replied. "When Frannie gets back from vacation, she'll help
me find it. Don't sweat it Frase," he grinned.  

Sam's reply was interrupted by a low growl from under the desk.
Diefenbaker slid out from his favourite place; turning the wolf began
to bark at Sam and Al. 

"It can see me," Al said backing away nervously. "And it can probably
see that you're not his master. I think I'll go and check how Gooshie's
doing. See you later Sam." 

Sam heard the familiar sound of the "door" opening. "You're on your own
Sam," he thought to himself as the wolf continued to bark and growl at
him. Sam sat still, hoping that the wolf wouldn't come any closer. 

"Hey Dief," Ray said puzzled at Diefenbaker's behaviour. "What's with
ya?" The wolf whined; jumping up, Diefenbaker put his front paws on
Ray's knees licking his face. "I love ya too," Ray ruffled the wolf's
furry head affectionately as he looked at Sam. "Boy. Ya sure seem to
have upset him. What did ya do?" 

"I told him off for eating too many doughnuts," Sam quickly replied
remembering that Ray had told him that the wolf stole doughnuts when
Fraser wasn't looking.  

"And now he aint speaking to ya," Ray grinned still stroking the wolf. 

"It would appear so," Sam answered.  

"Hey. Does that mean he could stay with me for a couple of days?" Ray
asked, his voice sounding hopeful. "Well until he's speaking to ya
again." 

Sam let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. "Yes Ray. If
you like," he replied relieved at not having to look after a fierce
looking wolf, who obviously sensed he was not Constable Fraser. 

"Did ya hear that Dief?" Ray turned his attention back to the wolf.
"Frase says ya can stay with me." Diefenbaker licked Ray's face again,
barking in delight. Happy that he wouldn't have to stay with the
stranger in Fraser's uniform, Diefenbaker settled under the desk across
Ray's feet. "So we still on for Friday night?" Ray asked.  

"Yes," Sam said cautiously wondering what he was letting himself in
for. 

"Greatness," Ray beamed. "So the Ice Queen let you have the night off.
I suppose even Turnbull and that new Constable can handle a few dinner
guests." 

"Yes they can," Sam agreed smiling back at Ray. 

"Just love the theatre, and I've been hearing and reading good reviews
about the play we gonna see," Ray explained. "We're lucky we could get
tickets. They're like gold dust. But I called in a couple of favours.
And voila." 

"I'm looking forward to it," Sam replied relieved.  

"Yeah. Me too," Ray smiled. "Ya gonna crash at my place as usual?" 

"Of course Ray," Sam smiled back. "Thank you kindly." 

  ************** 

  

Diefenbaker at his heels, Ray ambled down the corridor back towards the
squad room from the break room, two cups of coffee in his hands. "Hey
Frase," he called as he saw his partner disappearing into one of the
Interrogation Rooms, apparently talking to himself.  

Fraser didn't hear him call closing the door firmly behind him. Ray
frowned to himself; Fraser had been acting more strangely than usual
today, even seeming to enjoy the candy-laden coffee, of which he had
drunk six cups during the morning.  

Placing the cups down on the top of a cabinet, Ray slipped into the
Observation Room which adjoined the Interrogation Room. Standing by the
two-way window, Ray watched as Fraser paced around the room waving his
hands in the air talking to himself. Diefenbaker jumped up onto a chair
whining quietly. "I don't know Dief," Ray whispered putting his arm
around the wolf. "What do ya think is wrong?" Ray groaned as
Diefenbaker barked softly. "Yer talking to the wolf again," he
chastised himself, but continued to ruffle the wolf's soft fur.  

Even though he knew that his friend couldn't see them, Ray took a step
backwards as Fraser stopped in front of the two-way window, his face
thoughtful staring in their direction. Abruptly, Fraser turned and
started to pace the room again. Ray and Diefenbaker continued to watch
as their friend and partner continued to move around the room,
apparently talking to himself. Diefenbaker whined again. "Don't worry
Dief," Ray muttered tightening his hold on the wolf. "It'll be OK. He's
a freak right?" Diefenbaker barked in agreement. "It's just Frase. It's
just his way," Ray muttered wondering who he was trying to convince.   
************** 

  

Sam sat staring at the wall in the tiny office; he had been Constable
Benton Fraser for two days and they were still no nearer to the reason
for his Leap.  

Sam knew from past experience that he tended to unconsciously adopt
elements of the personality trait of the individual he had leapt into,
but had to admit on this occasion he was becoming irritated and
frustrated with his current role; Sam was tired of every female eyeing
him up and down like he was an exhibit in a zoo. He had started to
speak like a dictionary, and had even bored Al silly with a story about
polar bears that had suddenly popped into his head.  

The only good thing about the Leap was his partner and friend, Ray
Vecchio; his boundless energy, quick smile and unfaltering friendship
had kept Sam going for the past two days. Ray seemed to accept his
eccentricities without question, and Sam had a feeling that Fraser and
Ray were good friends accepting each other's faults, vulnerabilities
and quirks without question seeming to understand that it was what made
the other man who they were. Sam smiled to himself; Ray reminded him of
Al. Ray talked with his hands, his body in constant motion filled with
an infinite energy that made Sam tired just watching. He and Al were
flip sides of a coin just as Ray and Fraser seemed to be, but each
partnership was strong, based on loyalty, friendship and respect. 

Sam turned his thoughts away from Ray and Al glancing down guiltily at
the desk; it had been neat and tidy when he had first found the tiny
office; it was now littered untidily with files and papers. He sighed
as he picked up a file trying to concentrate on it. The office door
swung open and Inspector Thatcher stood in the doorway, a piece of
paper in her hand. "What exactly do you call this?" she waved the paper
at Sam. 

"A 10989B report," Sam offered recognising the form he had struggled
with for over an hour. 

"No," Inspector Thatcher yelled. "It's an unfinished 10989B report,"
she said as she threw the sheet of paper across the desk. "This work is
not up to your usual efficient standards Constable. Are you ill?" 

"No Inspector Thatcher," Sam replied staring down at the form. 

"Good," she replied. "Complete the form properly now. And do it before
you take up your position at the door for tonight's dinner party." 

"But I'm off duty tonight. I'm going to the theatre with Detective
Vecchio. I did clear it with you last week," Sam said remembering that
he had found the request form in the desk drawer on the first day of
the Leap. 

Inspector Thatcher glared at Sam. "Well consider yourself back on duty.
You are needed here. So you'll just have to cancel. I am sure Detective
Vecchio will understand," she snapped.  

"Understood," Sam replied groaning at the answer that had unconsciously
come in to his head. The walls vibrated as Inspector Thatcher slammed
the door to the office.  

"I just love a strong woman," Al said as he appeared in front of Sam.
Lighting a cigar he perched on the edge of the desk. "Don't you?" 

"No I don't," Sam answered angrily. "She," he stabbed a finger at the
closed door. "Has been on my back for the last two days. Nothing I do
is right. This Fraser must be a whizz at paperwork." 

Al chuckled as he retrieved the handlink from the pocket of his silver
grey long jacket. "Says here that there is a 65.9% chance that you are
here to get Benton Fraser and Inspector Margaret Thatcher together," he
said looking back up at Sam grinning widely. 

"Please tell me that Gooshie and Ziggy are wrong this time," Sam
pleaded. "I can't. Not ...... not with her." 

Al studied the handlink chuckling to himself. "It says here that the
Inspector and Constable Fraser shared a kiss on top of train load of
Mounties a couple of years ago," he said still grinning. 

"No," Sam groaned slumping back in the chair. "Please tell me it's a
mistake." 

Al stabbed at another coloured button shrugging. "Well there is a 64.9%
chance that you are here to save one of the VIP guests at the dinner
party tonight. There are some pretty important people attending, but
our information is ... is a bit vague." 

"So what you're saying," Sam jumped up starting to pace the small
office. "Is that after two days, you are still not sure why I'm here." 


"Yes," Al looked down guiltily at his shoes. "That's about the long and
short of it Sam. But don't panic, Gooshie and Ziggy are working around
the clock to come up with the answer." 

"Oh great," Sam threw his hands up in the air. "Al," he turned to his
friend. "You have got to get me out of here. It's driving me crazy.
Inspector Thatcher hates me. An arctic wolf wants to eat me for
breakfast," Sam cried pulling at the serge. "And this damned uniform
itches. All the women are looking at me as if they want me as their
dessert. My partner, who I have to say is the best thing about this
Leap, keeps asking if I want to lick things. And to top it all, I am
becoming Mr. Nice Guy." 

"Sounds like my kind of Leap," Al teased. "Especially the women part." 

"Al," Sam shouted. "Do something." 

Al's reply was interrupted as the closet door swung open revealing a
grey haired man dressed in the uniform of a Mountie. He walked towards
the two men, a look of confusion on his face. 

"Who are you?" Sam asked his mouth dropping open in surprise. 

"Well I could ask you the same question," Robert Fraser said. "You're
not my son." 

"Al," Sam whispered. "He can see me." 

"Well of course I can see you," Fraser Senior snapped irritated. "And
your friend. Although I must say I don't much like his dress sense," he
said as he walked around Al studying his clothes. "Bit bright and gaudy
for my tastes." Sam suppressed a smirk at the horrified look on his
friend's face. "Robert Fraser, RCMP," he offered Sam his hand. "And you
are?" 

"Dr. Samuel Beckett," Sam stuttered. "And this is Admiral Albert
Calavicci." 

"Mmmm. The Admirals in my day didn't wear clothes like that," he
pointed at Al. "So to business. What are you doing here? And where is
my son?" 

"It's a long story," Sam sighed slumping down in the chair. 

"Oh well. That's something you have in common with my son," Fraser
Senior said. "He has a fondness for long stories. Seems to enjoy boring
people with them." 

"Sam," Al murmured. "According to Ziggy, Robert Fraser has been dead
for over two years. Benton Fraser came to Chicago looking for his
father's killers. And then ended up being banished here after he caught
and arrested the murderer, who just happened to be a high ranking
Mountie." 

"Of course I'm dead," Fraser Senior snapped. "You didn't think I would
be living in a closet if I was alive. Did you?  

"No," Sam stammered flushing slightly. 

"And you still haven't answered my questions," Fraser Senior said as he
paced up and down the small office. "What have you done with my son?" 

"Don't worry. He's quite safe," Sam reassured standing up. "He's in New
Mexico at the Project Headquarters." 

"Benton won't like that, "Fraser Senior interrupted as he perched on
the edge of the desk. "He hates the heat," he explained as he took his
stetson off placing it neatly on the desk. "So tell me what your
problem is, and I'll see if I can help." 

"I am not sure we can do that," Al said glaring at the older man. "It's
a top secret project. And it's a bit hard to explain to a lay person." 

"Well from what I overheard, you don't seem to be doing very well on
your own," Fraser Senior pointed out primly. "But if you really think I
can't help you, perhaps you should ask Benton. He's a bright boy. Takes
after me," he said proudly. "Got his looks from his mother though." 

"No can do," Al said stubbornly sitting down and folding his arms
across his chest. "Authorised personnel only." 

"Al?" Sam started to say. 

"We can't ask Constable Fraser," Al jumped to his feet. "It's against
the rules." 

"Who made up the rules?" Sam asked smiling slightly at his friend. Al
paced the room mumbling to himself waving his arms in the air. 

Fraser Senior leaned forward conspiratorially towards Sam. "So who did
make up the rules?" he asked. 

Al turned on the two men. "He did," he shouted pointing at Sam. 

"So it follows that I can change my rules. And it's not as if we have
come up with anything else," Sam reasoned. "And Constable Fraser just
might be able to help with some detail we may have missed." 

"OK. OK," Al conceded. "I'll go back and ask our Mountie friend. He's
driving everyone nuts with his Inuit stories anyway." 

"That's my boy," Fraser Senior chuckled. "Told you he could tell a
story." 

"You stay here on guard in case there's trouble tonight," Al pointed at
Sam with the handlink.  

"Do I have to?" Sam groaned. 

"Yes Sam you do," Al grinned nodding. "Firstly, you were ordered to by
your superior officer, and secondly it's all we got at the moment." 

Sam watched as Al disappeared through the "door". Turning he looked for
Fraser Senior - he had disappeared. 

  ************** 

  

Sam walked towards the Consulate door to take up his position for the
evening. He sighed to himself; Inspector Thatcher had spent the
afternoon barking orders at him and Constables Turnbull and Evans. All
the preparations for the evening had finally been completed, and the
caterers were now in kitchen busily creating the dishes for the dinner.
Sam had tried to call Ray to apologise for not being able to go to the
theatre, but had been unable to speak to him. Trying to console with
the thought that his being here would probably, according to Al and
Ziggy, save one of the VIP's life, Sam placed the stetson firmly on his
head. Opening the door, he came face to face with Ray. 

"Hiya Frase," Ray smiled broadly. "Ya ready?" 

"No Ray," Sam looked down at his boots guiltily. "I'm sorry I can't
come with you tonight. I did try to call you, but couldn't reach you. I
have to stay here tonight." 

"Oh," Ray's face clouded with disappointment. "Thought you said ya had
cleared the time off with the Ice Queen last week. And ya said that
Turnbull and Evans had it covered." 

"I know," Sam apologised. "I'm sorry Ray." Sam had only known Ray for a
short time but he liked him, and had even found himself looking forward
to going to the theatre. Sam sensed that beneath the tough and abrasive
exterior that Ray showed to the world lay a sensitive and vulnerable
soul. From what Al had told him about the Mountie, Sam guessed that
Fraser had probably seen through Ray's armour to the man hiding
underneath. That coupled with Ray's instinctive understanding and
acceptance of Fraser's quirks and peculiarities had probably helped to
cement a strong friendship between the two men. 

"So what's the Ice Queen got ya doing?" Ray asked. 

"Inspector Thatcher needs me to stand guard duty tonight. And there is
no-one else. Turnbull and Evans are needed inside the Consulate," Sam
explained. 

"Oh," Ray repeated shrugging his shoulders. "Guess that's that then." 

"I'm really sorry Ray," Sam apologised again. "But it is my duty," he
blurted out without thinking hoping that Ray would understand, but it
seemed to have the opposite effect. 

"That's OK then," Ray said, his pale eyes flashing with anger. Ray knew
he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't help feeling disappointed;
he had been looking forward to going to the theatre. Fraser was good
company, and they usually spent the evening discussing the play over
pizza at Ray's apartment.  

"Ray...," Sam started to say. 

"Don't," Ray interrupted Sam mid sentence. "We all know how important
yer duty is. Is it more important than friendship?" Sam went to open
his mouth to reply but Ray waved his hand dismissively in the air. "No.
Ya don't have to answer the question. I sorta already know the answer.
I guess I shoulda known what would come first. Duty always comes first
for a Mountie, I suppose."  

"Ray," Sam protested trying to think of a suitable reply. "If it's the
expense of the tickets, I would be happy to reimburse you," he offered
hoping that this would assuage his partner's anger. "And I will buy
tickets for another performance." 

Ray stared at his friend, his mouth open. "The cost," he squeaked. "Ya
think this is about the money?" he cried, his voice betraying the hurt
he felt. "I thought we were friends. Guess I was wrong," Ray turned his
back on Sam running down the steps towards the GTO. "See ya Monday," he
called as he slid into the driver's seat. Sam watched open mouthed as
Ray gunned the engine screeching down the street. 

  *************** 

 Al ambled along the corridor towards the Waiting Room. He took a deep
breath before entering the room. "Hi," he said casually to the room's
occupant.  

"Good," Fraser paused looking around him at the white sterility of the
room. He cocked his head to one side, his expression one of confusion.
"Well I am not entirely sure whether it's morning or afternoon as the
room doesn't appear to have any windows." 

"No. Sorry about that," Al said moving towards the Mountie. "I always
told Sam that the room lacked....... well lacked style. Reminds me too
much of a hospital room," he shivered slightly. "And I hate hospitals."


"I see," Fraser said.  

"Have they been looking after you OK?" Al asked. 

"Yes," Fraser replied. "Thank you kindly." 

"Suppose you're wondering why you're here?" Al said grinning at Fraser.


"Well yes," Fraser admitted. "I must confess to a certain amount of
curiosity," he looked around the room again. "Where exactly am I? Have
I been ill?"  

"New Mexico and no," Al answered sitting next to Fraser on the
examination bed. "Admiral Albert Calavicci at your service," he thrust
his hand towards Fraser. "Al to my friends." 

Fraser took the offered hand shaking it. "Constable Benton Fraser,
RCMP. Frase or Fraser to my friends. And how exactly did I get to New
Mexico?" 

"It's a long story," Al sighed lighting a cigar and taking a quick
puff. "Which I know you prefer, but let's do the short version. You are
currently a guest of the Project Quantum Leap. My best friend Dr. Sam
Beckett is in your body at this moment in Chicago trying to put a wrong
right. And there lies our problem." 

"It does?" Fraser asked puzzled.  

Al nodded grinning. "And Sam sent me back here to ask you to help us." 

"And this is the friend that is in my body," Fraser blinked looking
down at his body, not seeing anything different. "I am not sure I
entirely understand. And what is Project Quantum Leap?" 

Al waved Fraser's confusion to one side. "Look Frase. Can I call you
Frase?" he asked. Fraser nodded. "The thing is we are a bit stuck here,
and need your help. And your dad suggested...," he started to say. 

"You met my father," Fraser interrupted a horrified look on his face.
"Oh dear." 

"Yes. Seems OK. Weird and.... well dead. But OK,"Al continued with a
wave of his hand. "Well anyway your dad suggested that you might be
able to help us out." 

Fraser raised his eye brows. "You can get me to New Mexico without me
knowing, and you need my help?" he cocked his head to one side. "But I
still don't entirely understand......" 

"Yeah. Yeah," Al dismissed his confusion with another wave of his hand
starting to pace around the room, puffing occasionally on his cigar.
"The thing is we can't work out what the wrong is. So it follows we
can't put it right. Do you get my meaning?" 

"Yes," Fraser nodded his head slightly. "Well no actually," he admitted
confused. 

"OK. OK. Follow me Frase," Al waved him towards the door. "And I will
give you the guided tour of Project Quantum Leap." 

"Thank you kindly," Fraser said as he followed Al out of the Waiting
Room into a long corridor. "Where are we going?" 

"To meet Ziggy and Gooshie," Al shouted over his shoulder. 

"Oh," Fraser said as he hurried after Al, who was holding a door open
for him. He followed Al into a medium-sized room. Fraser glanced around
quickly; the room was bathed in a bluewhite light which gave it an
almost ghostly appearance. Along one wall, an array of brightly
coloured lights seemed to dance across a smooth grey surface; they
bounced off the white ceiling and walls casting shadows adding to the
overall impression of the supernatural. A short red haired man dressed
in a white coat stood in the centre of the room studying what appeared
to be a small computer screen. He looked up smiling. "Admiral," he
nodded towards Al.  

"Gooshie," Al indicated Fraser. "This is Constable Benton Fraser." He
looked to Fraser. "This is Gooshie, Project Quantum Leap's Programmer."


"Pleased to meet you," Gooshie thrust a chubby hand at Fraser. 

"Likewise," Fraser accepted the hand shaking it firmly.  

"And this," Al waved his hand towards the coloured lights. "Is Ziggy.
Project Quantum Leap's computer and fount of all knowledge." 

"There's not another computer like it in the world," Gooshie beamed
with pride. "Ziggy is unique. One of a kind." 

Fraser looked up at the array of flashing and blinking coloured lights.
"Impressive," he murmured as he peered at the smaller dials and buttons
studying each one in turn.  

"Thank you kindly," the computer mimicked in his voice making Fraser
jump back in surprise. Gooshie giggled at the Mountie's surprise. 

"Oh I forget to tell you that as well as speaking, she has a sense of
humour," Al chuckled. 

"She?" Fraser raised his eyebrows at the computer.  

"Oh Ziggy is definitely a she," Al smirked. "Wants her way all the
time. Like most women I know." 

"But she's beautiful," Gooshie protested patting the metallic surface. 


"Ahhh. I see," Fraser said. "So what exactly is the Quantum Leap
Project?" 

"It's a lot of mumbo jumbo really," Al put his hand up silencing
Gooshie as he opened his mouth to protest. "But Sam explained it to me
like this," Al said taking a piece of string from his pocket. "Sam said
to compare life to a piece of string. One end is birth," Al held one
end up. "The other is death," he held the other end up. "Tie the ends
together to make a loop," he explained tying the ends of the string
together. "Ball the loop and all the days touch," he scrunched the
string in his hand. "Therefore allowing a person, in this case Sam, to
leap from one to the other." 

"That seems to make sense," Fraser nodded. "So your friend Sam leaps
from life to life putting right what went wrong."  

Al nodded. "Your dad said you were smart." 

Fraser smiled. "So how do you know what wrongs to put right?" 

"Well we don't at first," Al replied waving his hands expressively in
the air. "And that's where Ziggy comes in. Gooshie feeds in the
available data from various sources. You know the cast of characters.
Ziggy searches all available databases. They then add some variables
and probabilities. And then Ziggy comes up with the possible scenarios
based on all the collected data. Then I go tell Sam. See easy." 

"What happens if your friend Sam doesn't put the wrong right?" Fraser
asked. 

"We're not entirely sure," Gooshie admitted. "Dr. Beckett always
manages to put history back in order. But this time we are experiencing
some problems." 

"Ahhh. I see," Fraser cocked his head to one side. "And that's where I
come in." 

"Yeah," Al replied leaning lazily against a work surface. "Got it in
one." 

"So what exactly did Mr. Gooshie tell Ziggy? "Fraser asked. 

"Here. This is always a good place to start," Al grabbed a computer
print-out and thrust it into Fraser's hands. "Our cast of characters." 

Fraser scanned the list. "You missed one," he said simply looking up. 

"What do you mean missed one," Gooshie interrupted bristling at the
implied insult. "Project Quantum Leap never misses anything. It's all
very scientific. You are obviously mistaken Constable." 

Fraser looked from one man to the other. "I am afraid on this occasion,
you and Miss.... err Ziggy omitted someone from the list," he politely
explained. "But then I suppose it's understandable under the
circumstances." 

"What do you mean understandable?" Gooshie protested snatching the
list. "Who exactly did we miss? From what the Admiral has been telling
us, everyone is here on this list," he shook the paper under Fraser's
nose. 

"Well yes," Fraser answered. "Everyone except for Detective First Grade
Stanley Raymond Kowalski." 

"Who?" Al asked puzzled waving a hand in the air. "I've never heard
anyone back there," he waved absently in the direction of a door at the
opposite end of the room. "Mention him. And trust me I would remember
the name. A Streetcar Named Desire is one of my all time favourite
films."  

"Ray is my unofficial partner. And best friend," Fraser smiled at Al.
"Actually you remind me of Ray. He talks with his hands as well. And he
hates hospitals." 

"But," Al protested. "Ray Vecchio is your partner. All the records say
so." 

"Ahhh," Fraser murmured. "Well yes and no." 

"So which is it," Al asked taking a puff of his cigar. "Yes or no." 

"Both actually," Fraser replied sighing. "It's a very long story." 

Al put up his hands in protest, having heard some of Fraser's long
stories. "We'll take your word for it. Gooshie," he turned to the
scientist. "Programme in our new character. And upload the data to the
handlink." 

Gooshie nodded reluctantly turning his attention to his keyboard.
Fraser watched as the scientist ran his fingers over the keyboard
expertly. The coloured lights on the computer danced across the
metallic surface as Ziggy added the new data and calculated the
probabilities. 

Gooshie looked up. "Information should be there now," he waved towards
the handlink. 

Al studied the handlink bashing it once on the side as the lights
appeared to dim. His eyes widened. "Oh my God," he murmured as he
headed towards a door at the other end of the room. 

"What?" Fraser asked. "What's wrong?" 

"No time," Al shouted over his shoulder. "Got to get to Sam," he said
as he disappeared through the door. "Gooshie. Centre me on Sam." Fraser
watched fascinated as a burst of white light seemed to engulf the
smaller room.  

When the light dimmed, Fraser turned to Gooshie who was reading a
computer print out. "What's wrong?" he asked again. 

The scientist looked up at him. "I'm afraid I can't tell you Constable
Fraser," he said. "But can I ask you a question?" Fraser nodded.
"What's more important to you duty or friendship?" 

Fraser stared at the man regarding him for a moment, considering the
question carefully. "Well three years ago, my answer would have been
duty. But my time in Chicago has taught me many things," Fraser
replied. "Today my answer would be friendship." 

"Good," Gooshie smiled as he turned back to his work. "Good." 

  ************** 

Sam stood at the top of the steps, politely opening the Consulate door
to the guests nodding a greeting; two had even tipped him. The
Inspector had appeared twice to bark more orders at him. He sighed to
himself wondering if the real Fraser ever got tired of his duty and
people treating him like a doorman. His thoughts turned to Ray, and Sam
groaned to himself hoping that he hadn't inadvertently wrecked what
appeared to be a strong friendship in his efforts to protect one of the
VIP guests. He was startled out of his miserable reverie by the "door"
opening; Al appeared at his side. 

"Sam," Al breathed. "Where's Ray?" 

"Probably at the theatre," Sam answered shrugging his shoulders. "Well
I think that's where he was headed. But then he's not speaking to me at
the moment. I think I hurt his feelings with my..... Well it doesn't
matter." 

Al raised his eyes in exasperation. "Well you've got to go find him,"
he cried hurrying down the steps. Looking over his shoulder, Al noticed
that Sam hadn't moved. "Sam," he ran back up the steps. "You got to go
find Ray now." 

"Why?" Sam asked, a puzzled look on his face. 

"Because," Al sighed in irritation. "If you don't. There is a 99.7%
chance that Stanley Raymond Kowalski will die tonight in a senseless
accident." 

"Who?" Sam asked, his confusion deepening as he started to follow Al
down the steps. "But I don't know a...." 

"Sam," Al yelled interrupting his friend mid-sentence. "He's your
partner and best friend." Sam continued to frown as he digested the
information pausing half way down the steps. Ignoring Sam's obvious
confusion, Al continued. "It's a long story that we haven't got time
for. All I know is that in exactly thirty minutes, Stanley Raymond
Kowalski is going to be killed in a hit and run accident. And you," Al
stabbed a finger at the glowing handlink. "Well... Benton Fraser feels
so guilty that he may have been able to prevent the accident resigns
his commission and returns to Canada. And according to the records, he
just disappears." Al looked up at his friend. "So why are you still
standing up there?" he shouted. 

"Constable," Inspector Thatcher barked from the doorway. "What are you
doing down there? Get back to your post now." 

Sam hesitated looking from Al to the Inspector. "Sam," Al waved an arm
wildly in the air. "Come on. Ray and Fraser are best friends like we
are. And they need your help. But you've got to come now. We don't have
much time left." 

"Constable," Inspector Thatcher shouted. "I'm waiting. Just exactly
what do you think you are doing?" 

Sam felt the familiar struggle within his soul as he fought against the
inner turmoil a Leap could cause; in this case friendship battled
against duty. Mind made up, he looked up towards Inspector Thatcher who
was tapping her foot impatiently. "Sorry Inspector," Sam mumbled. "I've
got to save a friend and me," He started to run down the street, her
angry shouts echoing in his ears.  

Al let out the breath he hadn't realised he had been holding, sighing
in relief. He stabbed a finger at the handlink. "Gooshie. Centre me on
Ray," he shouted.   ************** 

  

Ray drove down the street angry with himself, and at Fraser for
thinking that their disagreement had been about money. He muttered
angrily to himself, casting black looks at the tickets he had
carelessly thrown on the dashboard, knowing that he had been
unreasonable, but his disappointment had overwhelmed him. Ray groaned
as he recalled that in his fury he had accused Fraser of putting duty
above friendship. Fraser's friendship was important to him, and now he
had probably ruined things between them. "Ya suck Kowalski," he thought
to himself.  

Diefenbaker whined laying his head on Ray's shoulder in comfort.
"Yeah," Ray murmured. "I know I shouldn't have yelled at Frase. I'll go
to the consulate in the morning and apologise. OK?" Diefenbaker barked
licking at Ray's ear. "How about we get pizza? Take it back to my
place?" Ray proposed as he drove past the theatre. "Don't feel like
seeing the play now." Diefenbaker licked his ear again barking in
agreement. 

Al appeared in the passenger seat, making Diefenbaker growl in the back
of his throat. "Hey don't bark at me. I'm only trying to help your
friend here," Al said puffing smoke in the wolf's direction. 

Diefenbaker regarded the apparition for a moment; barking softly he lay
down on the back seat, his head on his paws. "Dr. Doolittle aint got
nothing on me,"Al muttered to himself as he took another puff of his
cigar. The vehicle screeched to a halt as Ray parked between two cars.
Looking around, Al could see that they were nowhere near the theatre.
"Oh God," he breathed stabbing at the handlink. "Gooshie. Centre me on
Sam." 

  ************** 

 Sam's feet pounded the sidewalk as he raced along the street; his
heart hammered in his chest feeling like it was going to explode with
the effort. Sam skidded around a corner, his breath coming in short
gasps. 

Al appeared at his side. "Sam," he said.  

"I'm going as fast as I can," Sam panted. "The theatre is right around
the next corner. Right?" 

"That's what I came to tell you. Ray's not at the theatre, "Al
declared.  

Sam stopped; bending slightly he struggled to draw air into this
protesting lungs. "So just where is he?" 

"He and the wolf are getting pizza two blocks away. Come on Sam," Al
encouraged impatiently. "You have to run faster. That way," Al pointed
down the street with the handlink. "Hurry." 

"Oh great," Sam breathed as he straightened up. Taking a deep breath,
he began to run in the direction that Al had pointed him. "Come on
Sam," he encouraged himself silently as he picked up his pace. "You can
do this. This is for friendship." 

After a further five minutes running through darkened streets, Sam was
able to see Ray. He was standing by the GTO talking to the wolf through
the window.  

"Ray," Sam shouted as he raced towards his friend. "Ray." 

Ray didn't hear his calls as started to cross the street towards the
pizza parlour, his attention still on the wolf, who was now hanging out
of the window barking.  

"Stay put Dief," Sam could hear Ray saying as he continued to walk
across the street, his back to the oncoming traffic. "I'll get extra
topping for ya." 

"Sam," Al shouted pointing frantically at the light blue jeep driving
down the street towards Ray. "Hurry." Al jumped into the middle of the
road waving his arms at the oncoming vehicle; it drove straight through
him. 

"Ray," Sam cried as he ran faster.  

Ray looked sideways surprised as Sam raced into the middle of the road,
throwing himself towards his friend. Grabbing hold of Ray's waist, Sam
propelled them towards the parked cars on the other side of the street,
just as the jeep screeched past narrowly missing them. They bounced off
a parked sedan's hood landing heavily on the sidewalk, Sam on top of
Ray. 

Sam recovered first scrambling to his feet, offering a hand down to
Ray. "Are you alright?" he asked concerned. 

"Yeah," Ray murmured taking the hand. "I think so." Sam hauled Ray to
his feet. "Thanks." He looked up and down the street. "Didn't see the
car. Was kinda thinking of other things," he said embarrassed as he
brushed at his jeans. "Lucky ya came along." 

Sam grinned. "Luck had nothing to do with it," he thought to himself.
"You're welcome," Sam answered out loud. 

"How did ya... did ya get here? How did ya know I was here?" Ray asked
puzzled. 

"A friend told me," Sam replied grinning at Al. 

"Oh," Ray said his expression still one of confusion.  

Al walked to Sam's side. "Why haven't I leaped?" Sam whispered as Ray
brushed at his jeans. "I saved Ray. I should have leaped by now." 

"Perhaps you need to answer a question?" Al grinned taking a puff of
his cigar. Sam frowned at him. "It's worth a try. And I think it's an
important question to him," he pointed at Ray.  

"Ray," Sam said. "Ask me the question again?" 

Ray straightened up looking at Sam curiously. "What question? Are ya
OK? Did ya bang yer head or something?"  

"No," Sam replied. "Ask me what is more important to me. Friendship or
duty." 

"It don't matter," Ray turned away not wanting to get into another
argument. "I'm sorry about earlier. Didn't ... didn't mean to shout at
ya. But ya know me... shout first, think later," he kicked at the
sidewalk distractedly. 

"I know you didn't Ray," Sam smiled. "And I am sorry if I upset you
with my inappropriate offers of money," he winced to himself, still
sounding like a walking dictionary. 

"OK. We're even," Ray grinned turning back towards the pizza parlour.
"Come on. Let's get some pizza and go back to my place." 

Sam pulled on Ray's arm. "Please," he pleaded.  

"Frase," Ray looked concerned. "Ya sure ya didn't bump yer head?" 

"No. My head is fine," Sam insisted. "Ask the question. It's
important." 

Ray regarded his friend for a moment. "OK. OK. If it'll make yer
happy," he agreed his hands on his hips. "Frase. What's more important
to you? Friendship or duty."  

"Friendship," Sam replied firmly smiling broadly. "Friendship is more
important to me than duty. Your friendship is important to me." 

Ray beamed at his friend. "Yer a freak," he accused as he started to
walk towards the pizza parlour.  

"Understood," Sam found himself saying.  

"But thank ya," Ray added. "And yer friendship is important to me as
well." 

Al stood back smiling to himself. He waved a hand at Sam, who was
beaming at Ray, as the familiar blue light surrounded his friend taking
him towards his next Leap.  

Al couldn't resist lingering as the real Constable Fraser re-appeared.
The Mountie appear to take in his surroundings; looking around, Fraser
smiled in Al's direction before following his friend and partner into
the pizza parlour. 

  THE END   

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Story page: http://www.1freespace.com/linda1/