Fic: [Quantum Leap] Close to You [1/2]
Author's forward: This was written to answer two questions that popped up in my mind. 1) What would happen if Al found himself irresistibly attracted to the Leapee in the Waiting Room? (Most of you can probably make a shrewd and educated guess, but remember what the Leapee sees when she [in this case] looks in a mirror). 2) Why didn't 'they' get Scott/Sam to do a big action/adventure episode? Imagine 'Die Hard' meets QL, but this time Sam's got a bit of help.... And I wrote this BEFORE seeing 'Mr and Mrs Smith'. Great minds think alike...
'The Lover gazed upon himself so that he might be a mirror in which to behold his Beloved and he gazed upon the Beloved as in a mirror in which he might have knowledge of himself.' Kahlil Gibran, mystic
1976/1999
Sam felt the place between the leaps ejecting him out into the cold world again, protesting, like a new-born baby.
'If only I had someone to touch again....someone who would look into my eyes and call me by my name. It's so lonely, out here.'
Reality rushed up to meet him. He was seated at a desk, in an office. There were crime prevention posters on the walls. Sam looked down at himself. No uniform. There was a name plaque on the desk. Sam turned it around. C. Elliott. He stood up slowly, taking in the pantyhose covering his legs as he did so.
"Ohhh, boy; not again!"
Sam saw a small circular mirror on the wall with a convex surface. He walked over cautiously, glad that his hostess liked wearing flat lace- ups. He peered at the somewhat distorted reflection in the glass. Thick naturally blonde hair, pale blue eyes in a smart navy suit. It was difficult to make out any more. Sam retreated to the desk and sighed.
'I know You're trying to teach me more about women, but this does seem a rather strange way of going about things,' he mused to himself, 'I guess Miss or Mrs Elliott must be in the police, but presumably she's in the plain clothes' department. Quite high up to have a room of her own.'
Sam looked out of the window onto red brick Victorian houses. An unmistakable London Taxi drew up outside. He could see glimpses of several famous landmarks in the distance.
"How on Earth am I supposed to fake a working knowledge of the British police system? American police was bad enough...!"
Al entered and shared the view out of the window.
"Wow! Free travel to London! Okay, Sam, we're doing our best, but Miss Elliott is apparently shut up tighter than a clam. She sussed out Beena as soon as she leaped in and thinks she's in a hostage situation. Beena is considering sending me in there in my uniform.....it might help, I suppose."
Al peered out of the window.
"Ah, a registration plate! From that, I can tell you that we're somewhere in the mid-Seventies, at least '75..and you know where and who you are...the 'C' stands for Cassandra, but no-one here will call you that, just 'Ma'am' or maybe 'Sir' - I'm not sure how protocol works yet. I'll get Ziggy to do some fine tuning and then I'll get back to you."
"Okay, Al, but be as quick as you can, please? I have no idea what to say if I get presented with real police work."
Al sighed as he went back out of the Imaging Chamber.
"Okay, Ziggy; Gushie - we need everything there is on British plain clothes' police, in London, around 1975 or so. Do a trace on the life of a C. Elliott, probably an officer, maybe even a high-ranking one."
"I HAVE SOME INFORMATION ON CASSANDRA ELLIOTT. SHE WAS BORN IN LONDON IN 1946, THEN HER MOTHER TOOK HER TO SAFETY IN THE COUNTRY DURING THE BLITZ. IT IS 1976, JUST BEFORE THE UNUSUALLY LONG HOT SUMMER IN BRITAIN THAT YEAR. MISS ELLIOTT IS CURRENTLY UNMARRIED IN 1976. SHE HOLDS THE RANK OF DETECTIVE INSPECTOR."
"Okay, that'll do for now, Ziggy. I'll see if I can get anything out of the lady personally." Al decided to grab a quick shower before he changed into his dress uniform. He walked rather stiffly along the corridor to the Waiting Room. Doctor Verbeena Beeks was there to greet him.
"I took your advice, Beena. Any change?"
The elegant psychiatrist slowly shook her head.
"She's not talking, if that's what you mean. We've offered her food and water, but she doesn't seem to have touched it."
"Has she seen her face....I mean, Sam's face, in the mirror?"
"Not yet....I decided she might really freak if I tried that. Go gently, Al."
"Yeah, I know the drill, we've done it so often before...."
Al took a deep breath and entered the room. A fair-haired woman in Sam's fermi suit sat bolt upright with her back to him.
"I heard you come in. Don't try anything"
The lady whirled around and she and Al gasped simultaneously. Cassandra recovered her poise first.
"Well, you're not a psychiatrist, that's certain. Military....but not British. Is this a covert operation?"
Al was trying to remember how to breathe. Cassandra was absolutely stunning, even with her hair scraped back from her face into a tight bun. Al took in her lovely face, the baby blue eyes and the exquisite full mouth. Even if that had been all, he would have been stopped dead. As it was, the generous curves lower down, stretching the Fermi suit so that it moulded to her like a second skin, proved severely distracting. Al's mouth went dry.
'Good grief! I haven't been this overwhelmed by a woman in ages'.
Al managed a reassuring smile.
"Yes...American Navy. I'm an Admiral."
Cassandra nodded.
"And this is not a ship, so where am I? Make sure it's the truth, now. I'm very good at picking up liars."
Her eyes narrowed. Al's appreciation of her poise rose several-fold.
"That doesn't surprise me. We know that you're a high-ranking police officer. And you're not a hostage, not in the conventional sense. We'll do everything we can to make your stay as pleasant as possible. My name is Albert Calavicci, but you can call me Al, if you like."
"I feel that I should call you 'Sir' in that uniform. With a name like that you must be Italian."
Al's smile widened.
"Absolutely, yes. Now, let me tell you where and when you are."
"When?"
"It's a long story, Ms Elliott."
She looked at him very directly.
"Have you got anything better to do? I might as well hear you out. This is not like anywhere else I've ever been."
Al managed to keep his tone professional as he explained everything Cassandra needed to know. At last there was one thing left. With a sinking feeling in his heart he took her over to the mirrored table. He sighed inwardly. At the moment she was blissfully unaware of her new aura and so was Al. Once she saw Sam, though, things would change; they almost always did.
"I don't know how to prepare you for this. Some people scream, some faint, some reject what they see. You won't see your own face looking back at you; it's the face of Doctor Beckett. He looks like you back in London."
"I think I understand.....ohh!" she turned to Al, "Do you see him or me?"
"That's complicated. When I look in the mirror there, I see my friend. But when I look directly at you, I see you. Ziggy did some changes, so that I could always see Sam as himself in the past."
"That makes sense. I'd want it that way if it was a colleague of mine out on a mission. So, do I have to stay in this room? It reminds me of an operating theatre."
She flashed a brilliant smile at Al.
"Sorry, Ms Elliott. We can't have you seeing too much of the future."
"But I've seen Dr Beeks and you. And his face. Your uniform is advanced, too. If I'm twenty three years in the future, then you're actually not that much older than me, are you?"
Al was pleased again by her quick mind.
"Ten years," he admitted, "I was forty in 1976."
"I keep being told I must have a holiday. I suppose this is a kind of holiday....though it's nothing like Italy."
Al boggled, "You went to Italy?"
"You told me your story; let me tell you one of mine."
It was over an hour later when Al finally left, walking on a cloud of delight. She had brought back to life memories of Lake Garda, Verona and Venice for Al. He had relaxed and enthused with her about the beauty of the Italian countryside and even made her laugh. It was that which nearly undid all his resolve to maintain a professional distance. It was a husky, seductive laugh and Al had been severely tempted to bridge the gap between them and kiss her, but the remembered reflection in the mirror held him back.
'Watch it, Calavicci. It can't happen. Damned shame, though. At least I can report substantial progress to Beena. Ohhh, if only things were different....'
It wasn't until he was on his way back to Sam that he started to wonder why Cassandra Elliott had opened up to him.
"Okay, Sam." Al began, filling his friend in on all the details, while Sam sat behind the desk and nodded. He had just finished when a male officer knocked and walked in. He was tall, broad-shouldered with greying black hair and pushing fifty.
"Excuse me, Ma'am. You know we've been watching the house of the Macguire brothers for some time?" Sam nodded, trying to look as if he understood, "Well, C1 thinks they might be into drugs and C5 suspects that one of our lot has been on the take and selling them information in exchange for the merchandise."
Al feverishly tapped the Handlink.
"Er...C1 is the drug squad, central office and has links with INTERPOL; C5 is the internal admin and you may have a bent cop on your hands," Al's eyes narrowed in a sudden flash of anger, "Ziggy says that the stake-out has been a waste of time so far....that would make sense. Your colleague's name is Smith."
"Okay, Smith..." Sam began, "So it sounds like the stake-out may be corrupted. One of the officers there is tipping off the Macguires."
The man nodded slowly.
"We found this in a public waste-bin."
He held out a sheet of paper. Sam took it and Al read it over his shoulder. It described in graphic detail what violence somebody would like to do with D.I. Elliott if he ever got his hands on her. Al became very angry on her behalf. So did Sam.
"Do you think a head-on approach is best?"
Smith nodded.
"I'm afraid so, Ma'am. Your personal appearance at the stake-out will probably incite our culprit to action. He probably finds you sexually attractive, so you'll need to be very careful. Take a gun with you and an extra pair of eyes."
Sam followed his heart.
"Then you'd better come with me, Smith."
"Yes, Ma'am, I will. We'll get the little bast...sorry, we'll get him."
Al felt he owed it to Cassandra to report on Sam's activities. He had changed to his favourite blue suit when he went in. Cassandra looked at him with surprise and a hint of something else, something Al recognised but tried to ignore. Cassie found him attractive.
"Is that what all U.S. Admirals wear off-duty?"
Al smiled.
"Oh, this. No...I just prefer colorful clothes."
"Very nice, too. It's a shame that you don't all wear that. You could have got one in my size. This thing is like something out of a sixties spy series."
"Yes, I'm sorry about that. Fermi suits weren't exactly built with fashion in mind, although..."
Al managed to stop himself blurting out how attractive she looked just in time. It didn't, however, stop the renewed rush of highly interested male hormones from surging through his body.
"If we're going to be informal, you can call me Cassandra."
To Al's surprise, she unpinned her hair, which fell in soft waves around her shoulders. The bottom-most curls just reached the tips of her breasts. Al blinked to try to dispel the images that were now running heatedly through his mind.
"You look like a Cassie to me," he managed, his mouth acting somewhat independently of his brain.
Cassandra smiled winningly and almost seductively.
"No-one's called me Cassie in years. I'd forgotten how nice it was to hear it. My first lover called me Cassie."
'Oh, BOY!'.
Al's brain trembled incoherently. He pulled out a cigar and turned away, trying to regain objectivity.
"You smoke cigars?"
Al looked away across the room at nothing in particular.
"Yes.....sorry, I should have asked your permission first."
He heard her throaty laugh. The inner desires went up a notch.
"You're talking to a fellow addict. I don't suppose you've got a spare one of those?"
Al looked back at her, which wasn't entirely safe for his equilibrium.
"No, I'm sorry. I don't meet many women who like the smell of cigars, and not many dare to smoke them."
Cassandra smiled again and the sun came out.
"You couldn't possibly share the one you've got?"
Al gallantly handed it over and their hands brushed against each other. He tried to ignore the jolt of awareness going up his arm. She shut her eyes and her lips closed around the cigar. Al was fixated, unable to turn away. When she handed it back, Al took it, his hand trembling.
'I'm actually going to put my lips next to something she's just had in her mouth. I'm shaking inside like a schoolboy'.
He started to turn away, but she put her hand on his shoulder.
"I can read your body language, Al. You find me highly attractive, don't you?"
He looked into her face. He could no longer deny it, "Yes," he whispered, hoarsely.
"It's that intense for me, too. I'd heard of captives being attracted to their captors, but I never thought it would happen to me. You are so handsome and I know you are trying desperately to be professional about this situation. So am I, but every time I look at you....."
"Cassie, don't, please. We can't."
She drew closer until their faces were only a couple of inches apart.
"Not even one kiss?"
Al teetered on the brink, tempted almost beyond endurance.
"I don't think just one kiss would be enough, Cassie."
"If we made it a really good kiss, I think I could handle it. You've never felt like this about a Leapee before, have you?"
"No, I haven't. I've had screaming, fainting, physical violence, people throwing up and tantrums. I've never had a Leapee who found me attractive."
Cassie stroked his face gently. Al felt his hands trembling with desire.
"So this is a first for both of us."
Al closed his eyes briefly, then looked back at her.
'It's no good. I am going to have to kiss her or die.'
"Your eyes are as blue as Lake Garda," he murmured.
Cassandra slid off the bed into his arms. All the nerve endings in Al's body began to tingle in appreciation and anticipation. They both paused deliberately, spinning out the tension. Al touched her hair, then began moving closer. He decided to kiss her slowly. A last remnant of his mind began to protest weakly.
'But she's wearing Sam's aura...'
Then his lips touched hers and the sheer pleasure wiped out every other conscious thought in his body. He started with gentle caresses, which she returned so fully, he felt intoxicated. He was just beginning to kiss her more deeply when the Handlink beeped shrilly several times.
"Hell, damn and blast!"
He pulled away, furious and frustrated. Cassie ruffled his hair.
"I thought it was pretty fabulous, speaking personally."
Al's mouth curved into a soft apologetic smile and his eyes glowed.
"It was incredible, but I've got this damned gooseberry called Ziggy who's just ruined the moment. I'm sorry, Cassie, but Sam's in trouble."
Al punched the Handlink.
"He's got to the stake-out.....there's a house overlooking the one where the drug dealers are suspected to be."
"That's common practice."
"Yes, here too. But it looks like one of your lot is working for the other side."
Cassandra's eyes narrowed angrily.
"I know my men and women better than anyone. Is there any chance of my getting a look at what's going on? I could spot something that you or Sam might miss."
Al looked up at her, taking in the business-as- usual attitude.
"Okay. We've let some Leapees in with me before. You'd better follow me."
It was evening. Sam followed Smith from the un-marked car into the building. Two male officers were seated, hiding by the upstairs bedroom window with binoculars and a tape recorder. Smith spoke to them.
"Good evening, Matthews...Johnson. Any luck?"
Matthews took off the headphones that he'd been wearing.
"Not yet, sir. The Macguires are giving nothing away."
Sam moved cautiously over to the window between the two men, trying to be nonchalant.
"Any passers by?"
Al punched the Handlink and went to check.
"Just people going home from work. No lights on in the Macguires' place." Sam stood up slowly. The street-light from outside illuminated him for a split second before he stepped back and touched Johnson on the shoulder deliberately, then moved over to Matthews.
"Where did you hide the monitor?"
Matthews swallowed slightly and looked up at Sam.
"Usual - telephone tapping through the junction box, Ma'am."
"It's a shame we couldn't get in there and monitor all their conversations. I'm going out on the street - I've got a disguise."
Sam looked at Smith and Al significantly. Sam went through to the back bedroom and pulled out what he'd borrowed from the huge wardrobe of disguises.
"What do you think, Al? Will this really work?"
Sam held up a T-shirt and a pair of hot pants with a bib. Cassie chuckled next to Al.
"My goodness, those are going to look strange on your friend."
Al touched Cassie so that Sam could see her. Sam blinked, then Al made the introductions. Cassie could see that Sam was uncomfortable changing in front of a woman, so she let go for a while until he was finished.
"I do hope this is going to work. Smith said that something slightly over the top should make the bent cop react."
Cassie laughed again.
"Well, I can safely say that none of the C.I.D. has seen me like that before. Good luck, Sam and watch both the men in there carefully."
Sam and Al both nodded.
'Why did Sam have to choose hot pants?' Al mused uncomfortably, 'I'm trying to concentrate, but all I can see is Cassie wearing them. Thank goodness there isn't a mirror in here...'
Al pulled himself ruthlessly back to the task in hand. Sam put Cassie's hand-gun in the pocket of the hot-pants as he went back to the other room.
"I'm just going out now...."
All three men looked around. Johnson rose to his feet.
"Do you think it's wise, going out there like that?"
Sam's hand covered his gun.
"I was hoping we might provoke them into making a move."
Matthews shuffled uncomfortably. Sam and Al's attention flicked immediately towards him.
"I don't like it. It should be one of us. I'll go....they think we live here, after all."
"How do they know that?"
Sam's voice took on a slightly steely edge as he moved nearer. Matthews stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers.
"Well, we've been coming and going at regular intervals. You know the drill."
Sam looked Matthews straight in the eye and tried to smile naturally.
"I'm sure you're doing a great job."
Matthews licked his lips nervously. Cassie touched Al's shoulder.
"It's him. He's sweaty, nervous....and excited. He's getting a kick out of this."
Sam touched Matthews' shoulder and the other man tried to pounce. Before he knew what was happening, Matthews was on the floor, under Sam's feet with two guns at his head.
"You bitch! I should have got that promotion, dammit. I bet you screwed the superintendent."
Cassie's eyes flashed in anger, "I got my job on merit, Matthews..."
She trailed off, her eyes flashing. Al relayed Cassie's words to Sam. Smith handcuffed Matthews and hauled him away.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am; I had no idea." Johnson spoke out of shock.
"I'll...er...go and change back and then check on the tap in the telephone exchange. I'll fill in until you can get someone else down here, Smith."
"Very well, Ma'am." Smith ushered Matthews out of the room.
Al waited while Sam changed back into the blue suit and accompanied him to the junction box down the road, away from the line of sight of the Macguire's house. Cassie nodded.
"It's an incomplete tap. No wonder we got nothing from them."
She passed instructions to Sam, who reconnected the tap and then went back carefully to the house. Johnson looked up as Sam re-entered the room.
"I think it's going to be a long wait."
Sam nodded and smiled somewhat grimly.
"That's okay. Let's hope we can catch these criminals now."
Al and Cassie left Sam to the unenviable task of a long wait through the night without sleep.
"You know," said Cassie, "I should have guessed that Matthews was the informer. I could hear the undercurrents in his voice just before he cracked. There's a lot you can deduce, even from the most banal of conversations."
Al clearly heard the thinly disguised yearning and passion in Cassie's voice.
"Absolutely," he answered, "It's amazing the coded messages you can give if you put your mind to it,"
'I can't resist you any more: I want to love you.'
"You were brilliant, Cassie."
'And I'm falling for you. Hell, I've fallen.'
She smiled softly in understanding.
"That's what I'm paid for. Do I go back to the Operating Theatre again?" 'Please say no. I need you.'
"Well, I think so. It's going to be at least eight hours until Sam is likely to need me again. I had planned to catch up on some sleep."
The last word stayed hanging between them, stretching the tension.
'Sleep is the last thing on my mind at the moment.'
"Where do you do that? There's just offices and military stuff down here."
"I have a bed in my office or, if Sam's away for a long time, a condo up on the surface."
Al gestured upwards. Desire thrummed inside him, filling him with intense longing. They walked almost nonchalantly along the corridor.
"This is your office, right here. I suppose I'd better say goodnight, then?"
'Please, Al. This may be the only chance we have.'
"Yes, goodnight, Cassie."
'Yes, Cassie....Oh, boy; yes!'
Her eyes were shining and her lips were softly parted. His desire became so intense that it was almost painful.
Their hands reached out, met, then suddenly they were in each others' arms. Al pulled her inside the office and locked the door behind him even as Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck. His lips found hers feverishly and they both moaned with barely suppressed hunger and desire. Al held her tight against him, revelling in the feel of her. He moved into the room, kissing and caressing all the way. They bumped into the desk and Cassie wrapped her legs around him, drawing him right against her. Cassie fumbled, trying to find the opening in the Fermi suit. Al grinned.
"I'll have to help you...there's a knack to those things. And Cassie, gorgeous, you don't have to worry about...complications."
Cassie's smile was radiant as she held him in her arms.
"I know, Al. At least, I guessed."
Al reached around Cassie and produced a package. He smiled seductively as he shed his jacket.
"We'll just have to make sure they're not wasted, won't we?"
Morning found Al and Cassie wrapped in each other's arms. He stroked her hair and face for the umpteenth time.
"God, I wish I could give you more than just one night."
Cassie's eyes were mischievous.
"Could you honestly give me anything that would equal what we've just shared?"
"Equal...maybe, if you gave me about a month to recover. Better, never. You are incredible, my gorgeous Cassie. You're going to take away my undying admiration and a little piece of my heart. You're three times a lady, as the song goes."
Cassie's answering smile was gentle, yet showed her deep satisfaction.
"You are the best, Al. Never forget that. The best I ever had. I wish we could have had longer, too, but sometimes one night is all you ever get. When I'm a ninety year old granny in a wheelchair, I hope that I shall remember what we shared and I will always be so grateful."
"Well, you'd better watch out, Cassie. If I'm still around, I'll be chasing you in my wheelchair for a second helping!"
Cassie laughed, a full musical laugh that thrilled Al to his soul.
"Al, you're incorrigible! And I'm always going to be more than a little in love with you, but I think you know that by now."
Al looked at his watch.
"And I'm half in love with you, but my darling, it's showtime. I have to go back to Sam and you need to get back into the Fermi suit, just incase Sam comes home."
Cassie picked it up off the floor where it had been discarded over seven hours previously.
"I still don't like it, even after the sexy way you removed it last night."
Al grinned as he began to help her back into it.
"Believe me, my beautiful Cassie; the way you fill it out is enough to make even the Pope look twice."
Cassie's grin matched Al's, "It made you that excited?"
"Couldn't you tell?"
"Well, actually, yes. I could tell that from the moment you laid eyes on me. And last night, when you were so close, I had no doubts at all about how excited you were. But it's such a boost to the ego hearing you say so."
Al walked Cassie back to the Waiting Room. He took her gently in his arms once the door was closed.
"I hate 'goodbyes', especially when it's to such a wonderful woman as you are."
Cassie smiled gently.
"Then let's say 'au revoir', Al. No-one else will ever be able to say my name as wonderfully and seductively as you do."
"Cassie..."
She put her arms around his neck.
"Ohhh, Al. Take care of yourself. Maybe I'll turn up here as a 53 year old one of these days."
"You take care as well. You can come knocking on my door any time."
They shared one last kiss, then Al had to leave her. Cassie smiled a secret womanly smile to herself.
"Three times a lady...?" she murmured as the leap caught her.
--------------------------------
1988/1999
Al lost no time in going back to the Imaging Chamber once Sam had leaped. He knew it was crazy, that there was no way Cassie could still be there, but he had to see for himself. He got there even ahead of Doctor Beeks and flung open the door. The room was still full of her fragrance; peach blossom on top of her own special scent. He closed his eyes, then snapped them open again. He looked around the chamber several times. Nothing. Nobody.
"Ziggy? What's going on? You said that Sam had leaped."
"HE HAS. BUT HIS AURA HAS GONE TOO. WHEREVER MY FATHER IS, HE IS WHOLLY HIMSELF."
Al stumbled over to the bed, where the Fermi suit lay in a crumpled heap. He clutched it to his chest. Cassie's perfume was almost unbearably intense, as was the double void in his heart.
"Sam, where are you? Ohhhh, boy!"
Sam came down to reality with a bump, onto a hard tiled floor. He felt a toilet seat behind him. The wood had scraped his back slightly as he sat down. Then he looked down at himself and blushed all over. He was naked.
"Ohhh, boyy!" he gasped.
He crouched down very carefully and peered under the locked door. No- one in sight and there, only feet away, on a gold towel rail were two fairly substantial blue towels. He unlocked the door and made a dash for it, grabbed the towels and retreated to his sanctuary. Just as he disappeared, two men walked in.
'Well, unless I'm a very strange woman, that narrows down the options'. Sam risked another glance under the door. Sandals and...were those Kaftans? Sam peered upwards. No, togas. A Roman theme party! Sam looked at the towels in his hands and began to construct something that he hoped would pass close scrutiny. The two men made idle small-talk, concluded their business, complained about the missing towels. One of them spoke.
"I wonder if Jenny will let me dry my hands on her toga?"
"Yes, but which part, Brian? You'd have to pick between her pert bottom and that luscious pair of breasts at the front."
Sam began to blush with a mixture of shame and anger.
"How about one hand on a breast and the other, really slowly, over her rear? I want to get that woman so hot that she can't think straight."
Sam began to wish he could either go temporarily deaf or take Brian apart, piece by piece.
"Yes, I know. You and every other man in the company who isn't happily married or gay. Who knows, a little wine, some dancing and she could fall into your lap like a ripe peach."
"And what a peach! Just the other week....."
Thankfully they left, leaving Sam fighting his urge to get really mad. 'Well, maybe if I find this Jenny I can warn her, though if she's as smart as she sounds, she already knows of Brian's intentions'.
Sam managed something that was surprisingly passable, all things considered. It certainly covered everything that needed to be covered with room to spare.
'This must be some place if they can afford giant bath-size towels in the bathrooms. And, weren't those English accents? At least Brian sounded English, the other one I'm not sure of.'
Sam took a deep breath and left the cubicle. He went over to the mirror at last, then had to hold onto the counter to stop himself falling.
"Ohmygod! I'm me! How the hell....? I look the same; a little older, I guess, tired - though that's no surprise - I must be heading to my mid-forties by the look of things. How long have I been gone? AL? Where are you?"
Sam was quite a bit paler when he managed to emerge from the bathroom. he looked around the door gingerly, but the Roman party was definitely in full swing. He spotted several other guests in togas made from towels and began to relax slightly. He edged back into the room. There was a large circular pit in the floor, with fitted couches around it and a huge pile of cushions had been thrown in. Amongst those cushions, several couples were apparently getting to know one another rather well.
'Oh, boy; an orgy too! It must be quite late on or the drink's been flowing. Thank goodness I'm still sober.'
Sam spotted several people dressed in burgundy livery around the room, gazing on as if nothing particularly out of the ordinary was happening. Sam grinned inwardly.
'I bet they'll have a tale to tell when they get off-duty.'
Sam spotted a table half full of buffet food and went over to investigate. He spotted Brian at the far end, trying to ingratiate himself with a red-haired woman.
"C'mon, darling. It's a New Years Eve party. Just one kiss under the mistletoe?"
To Sam's surprise, she agreed. Sam watched cautiously, slowly swallowing his mouthful of food, ready to pounce. The mistletoe was produced. Brian plunged in, over-eager, then just as rapidly pulled back.
"Why you little...."
"Ha! Fifteen love, you dirty old man! She bit his tongue, Sam!"
"Al, I've been worried about you and Jenny."
Al grinned.
"I think Jenny can take care of herself, don't you? Mind you," he continued, you can see why all the men go ga-ga over her. She's something else."
Jenny turned around and walked swiftly away from Brian with her head held high. Sam had to admit that she was pretty stunning, although he'd always been a little nervous of fiery red-heads.
"It's not fair, Sam. I thought God had broken the mould when he made Cassie and now I see He issued the same design again...well, nearly as good. He just changed the coloring and made her somewhat taller, that's all."
"Cassie?"
Al sighed and decided on an almost-truth.
"A brief encounter....and one of the best, Sam. The best in a long, long time. We only had one night together, but it was worth waiting for. Sometimes one night is all you get."
Sam could see the wistful look in Al's eyes and decided to accept and acknowledge it.
"I've had one or two of those, Al. Anyway, how did you find me? I seem to be here myself, but no-one's batted an eyelid."
"Yeah, Ziggy went ape; Gushie nearly fainted and it's all been a little frantic. Ziggy reckons it's because I had to work closely with the last Leapee," Al pulled out a cigar and his face went unusually closed as he began to smoke it, "Anyway, when she went, your aura got sucked back through time and you sort of met half-way. Don't ask me how or why, I don't understand. It's New Year's Eve 1988 and you're still in London, at this toga party. It's a mega bash for some huge corporation, they've got the whole hotel for the holidays; partners, wives, the whole bang shooting match. You can probably get away with your own name. All the guests are either tanked up or...er..doing the horizontal tango, like those seem to be doing down there."
"Yes, but why am I here?"
"We don't know. The fact that you're here at all is causing Ziggy to have conniption fits. Just keep your eyes and ears open and try not to get into any trouble."
Al punched his Handlink and made his exit after one last look around at the female talent in the room. Sam sighed and went back to the buffet table. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent square meal. He instinctively picked out higher energy foods. He'd realised early on that his host or hostess often had the need of them later. Sam had moved on from the food to something with as little alcohol as possible when it happened. Loud bangs and crashes came from just outside. Sam put down his drink hurriedly after one last mouthful. He caught a familiar smell in the air.
'Uh-oh. Gunsmoke, bullets. What on Earth is going on?'
The double doors of the room burst open and half a dozen or so men in black burst in and razed the room with silent but deadly gunfire. Sam had already thrown himself under the buffet table, where there was another, female guest in hiding too. When Sam peered out from under the tablecloth, the gunmen were silently and efficiently relieving the party-goers of their valuables. Sam saw that most people were still alive, but being systematically tied up in pairs. The gunmen manhandled each duo into separate rooms and locked the doors.
'An inside job? Or maybe they got the keys at gunpoint? I see they finished off all the employees in livery.'
It didn't take the gunmen long to spot Sam and his companion. They were hauled out, gagged and tied face together. Sam tried to apologise silently to the lady with his eyes before the blindfold went on. He was left with an impression of short, dark hair cut in a ragamuffin style, a strong yet somewhat elfin face and eyes of an indeterminate pale colour. They were pushed and shoved at gun-point through two sets of doors, then sharply left into a small dark room. Sam heard the key turn in the lock and darkness descended.
Sam felt his companion nudging him gently as the footfalls of the gunmen faded away. He followed her lead and they shuffled over to the door. He heard a click and was aware through his blindfold that she had managed to find a light-switch. Then he felt her head moving slowly yet determinedly, her jaw working as she did so.
"I've got my gag out. I'm going to help you with your blindfold and gag, then we'll see if we can get out of these ropes. My name is Grace Steers; I'm a sort of trouble-shooter and know this hotel inside out. You picked a good person to be tied up with tonight. Okay?"
Sam nodded.
"Good. Now hold still if you can and I'll do my best."
Sam felt her teeth picking at his gag, wriggling and pulling. He tried to help as much as he could. Slowly, the material eased down. It hurt quite a bit as it dragged slowly over his mouth, but he was relieved to feel it going. Grace's lips brushed his several times out of necessity as she released him and it was all Sam could do not to respond. Her lips were so mobile and soft, her breath sweet against his mouth.
"Thanks," he managed, as she started to attack the blindfold, "I'm Sam Beckett. You could say I'm used to getting in hot water, too."
"I bet you never had to kill someone?"
"Actually, I have, but it was a hard decision to make. If you plan to go after those nozzles, I would be willing to help."
Grace gave a short laugh.
"I've never heard that word before, but it's suitable. I would be grateful just to put a spanner or two in their works before the police arrive. It would be nice to put right some of what went wrong tonight."
At last the blindfold was off and Sam blinked as the unnatural blue- white of a fluorescent tube hit his eyes. He looked at Grace. She was barefoot, but her face was still close to his. She was incredibly attractive and...
"Your eyes are turquoise!" he exclaimed. She smiled wryly.
"They change colour. In some lights they are green, in others, blue. I'm part of the hotel security, you might say. Tonight I was working under cover. We had a rumour that something was about to happen...the gunmen are after holding the Chairman to ransom. And if you cross me, believe me, I know how to kill with my bare hands."
Sam boggled slightly, but then accepted her claim.
"Then I won't cross you. I'm a sensei myself, amongst other things." Grace's eyes narrowed.
"I don't remember seeing your name on the guest list. Who are you?"
Sam raided his memory, trying to pick something that would fit.
"Er....INTERPOL. We've heard about those gunmen in America. They're into ...er...drugs and money laundering, too," he guessed.
Grace nodded.
"Yes, that's what I'd heard. All right, if we can get out of these ropes, you're on the team. Two against eight is high odds, but at least we have a good chance of escaping detection. I suppose you learnt relaxation techniques when you did your martial arts?"
"Uh-huh."
Grace nodded again, then smiled briefly.
"Right. We collapse onto the floor as carefully as possible, then, using relaxation and breathing techniques, there's a good chance that we will be able to wriggle out of these bonds. The carpet will give us something to press against."
Sam looked around the storage cupboard, seeing towels and linen on all sides.
"If we pull down some of those, we'll have a softer landing."
Grace complied, then they fell onto the pile of towels.
Sam tried to blank his mind and concentrate on the job in hand, but it wasn't easy.
'Thank goodness Al isn't here. I can just guess what sleazy comments he would make. It doesn't help that Grace is a strong, highly attractive woman. Maybe if I close my eyes it'll help......ohhh, boy, no! That just makes it worse.'
Grace had moved only a few inches down Sam's body. He gritted his teeth quietly.
"Relax, Sam. The more we relax, the further I can move."
'That's what I'm dreading. This is almost unbearable. She's going to notice what she's doing to me soon.'
"Oooh, Sam! I've never seen 'Postman's Knock' played like that before."
'God, I'm going to have words with you about Al's entrances one day.'
"Well, I know what I'd be trying to do in your situation. She's stunning. But I know you, you're trying to resist," Al disappeared down to carpet level, "If you move up a foot or so, someone dropped a glass in here once upon a time. It's right under the back of the bottom shelf. It's all covered in dust, but if you smash it...."
Sam acted out noticing it and relaying the information to Grace. She smiled up at him.
"Okay, it'll be quicker, all being well. I was aware of your....discomfort."
"I'm sorry," Sam managed, as Grace reached her foot to hook out the glass, "I'm only human."
A strange look passed over Grace's face, then she smiled.
"If I'd had to fight you off, you would have been incapacitated by now."
"Oh, but what a way to go.....!"
Sam contented himself with glaring at Al.
It wasn't long before Grace had freed them with the sharp edge of the broken glass and they were sitting on the floor.
"I don't suppose you can pick locks?"
Grace looked at the door.
"No keyhole, Sam. You don't expect to have to break out of a storage room."
Al punched his Handlink as he puffed at his cigar and examined the room.
"Can you get out of that?"
Al pointed upwards.
Sam stood up and looked at the grate in the ceiling.
"Air conditioning?"
Grace looked at it too, "No, a service duct; but it will do if we can undo those screws....I haven't got any hairpins, but there is my belt."
Grace pulled it off and Al groaned softly.
"Ohh, boy. She's wearing a strapless bra under that toga. And matching lacy briefs," Sam's eyes threatened Al with murder, "Sorry Sam. It's just that now there's this one inch gap down my side and I can't help but see..."
'This isn't helping one bit. I've already been made very aware of her beautiful curves....but there's more to it than that. Much more.'
Grace climbed up the shelves and began to attack one of the screws with the metal buckle of her belt. When her efforts had released one screw, Sam climbed up the opposite shelves to help. At last, after several minutes, the screw shifted and Sam got it out. The grating swung away from the ceiling. Grace and Sam removed a third screw after a substantial effort and turned the grating around on it's one remaining screw. Sam picked up the loose screws and put the linen back on the shelves as tidily as possible. Grace smiled.
"Yes, of course. Try to cover our tracks. If some of the others open this cupboard, they may just think it was always empty."
At last the room was as pristine as they could make it. Sam helped Grace through the grill, then pulled himself through into the dusty service duct. Grace pulled the grating back over the hole and Sam put the screws down near it.
"Right. The chairman is...um...shall we say, entertaining his latest mistress up in the penthouse suite. It's a bit of a climb, Sam."
"Okay, Sam. I'll check on his progress and get back to you."
Sam relaxed somewhat as Al disappeared.
"Which way, Grace?"
"This way; towards the main corridor and the lifts. We might even be able to access the stair-wells. We have two options; go straight to the penthouse suite or do a little sabotage first. Putting the lights or power out may help us."
"Wouldn't the gun-men figure out what was happening?"
"That's a possibility. Of course, if we started a fire, then the sprinklers would be set off on that floor....and the stairwell has nice fire extinguishers to play with. We really can't tackle the gunmen without being armed ourselves...and preferably more suitably dressed."
"Well, I wouldn't argue with that. Let's go."
Sam followed Grace in crawling along the dusty service duct. He found himself fighting the urge to sneeze after only a few feet.
"Hold your nose, it'll help psychologically."
Sam thanked Grace and carried on behind her, trying to keep his eyes away from her shapely legs.
'The problem is that's she's too darned attractive. Plus she seemed to accept me on sight, no questions asked - well, not many. The question is 'Why?'; and if the answer is that she finds me equally attractive, I've got problems.'
It took several minutes to get to the junction, where the space was somewhat greater. Both Sam and Grace could crawl on hands and knees towards the lifts and the stairwell. Grace passed the main exit and carried straight on.
"Where are we going, exactly?" Sam whispered.
"There's an en-suite with direct access to this duct; no nasty screws to get past."
"Would I be correct in guessing that it belongs to you or someone you know?"
Grace grinned back at him in the semi-darkness.
"Sam Beckett, you are a quick thinker. It's mine; in my job you never know when you might have to make a dash for safety. I've got all sorts of gadgets there that will help us."
"I get the feeling you've done this sort of thing a lot."
"Yes, and usually solo, so keep out of my hair."
"You got it, Grace."
Sam grinned to himself as he followed Grace.
Sam watched as Grace disappeared down into the blackness of her room. Sam managed to get his feet around just like she had and carefully dropped a couple of feet onto a hard cold surface. He bumped against Grace, something hard and metallic then, suddenly, he was getting wet through. He spluttered, his mouth filling with warm water.
"You could have told me that the exit was by the shower!"
"Do you mean to tell me that you don't need a shower after all that dust?" Sam was trying to ignore how wonderful Grace felt in his arms.
"I...I don't make a habit of getting in the shower in the pitch black with a woman and wearing towels!"
He felt himself blushing in the darkness.
"Sam, you're a treasure!"
Their lips met by sheer instinct and luck as he tried to regain his poise. Sam indulged himself for a few seconds, tasting how sweet and eager her lips were under his, but the sensations of holding her wet body close to his were getting far too stimulating.
"Whoa...." he urged, pulling away, "We'll get distracted from dealing with those nozzles and the chairman of the board."
Grace stepped out of the shower and touched his hand apologetically.
"I'm sorry....it happened by accident; not that I'm complaining. I'll let you get on with things alone. I've got some clean towels...here, I'll put on the light."
Sam blinked as he saw how the water had moulded Grace's toga to her body.
'Oh, boy! She really is perfection. I have got problems now.'
Grace was looking at him and beginning to blush.
"I...er, let me know when you're all wrapped up again and I'll go and...um...find you something suitable to wear."
She left, looking somewhat flustered. Sam was privately pleased to find that she was, if possible, even more embarrassed than he was. At least the one towel he still had covered enough to matter. He discarded it once she was gone and got on with cleaning off the dust.
Grace kindly provided him with a fairly anonymous grey tracksuit and a T-shirt. She called out to him from the other room as she left them by the bathroom door.
"Sorry I can't help with the underwear, Sam."
Sam's lips twitched as he wondered what her reaction would be if he told her he had worn women's underwear before...but not quite under these circumstances.
"At least you had some pants. I don't think I'd fit into one of your skirts."
He heard her chuckle as he pulled on the tracksuit top.
'That's a lovely laugh. I guess we need some humor to face what's ahead.'
"Well, I'm not wearing a skirt either. It's far too impractical tonight." Sam let Grace into the bathroom and inspected the things she had laid out on the low table in front of the couch.
'A new length of climbing rope, two pen-knives, two flashlights, some wire and wire cutters.... That's a good start.'
Sam's appreciation of her skills rose several notches. He saw two cans of soft drink near the bed and opened one. Al finally showed up again.
"Sorry that I couldn't make it before. This anomaly you've caused is putting Ziggy on the fritz. The gunmen weren't meant to attack tonight, somehow your presence is affecting time directly."
"What about Grace?"
"Ziggy's one certainty is that you've got to stick to her like glue if you want to get out of here. Ziggy says that Grace knows what she's doing."
"She certainly seems to. The only thing we're lacking is a couple of guns and some ammo."
Al punched the Handlink again.
"Well, she's a real mystery lady, Sam. She's been working here for a year...three years ago a woman answering to her description came out of China, having apparently been trained in martial arts."
"She said she was a sensei."
"Yes, well, I'd believe her. Before that, it gets really hazy. This woman is like a female James Bond. I wonder if she appreciates men the same way he appreciates the girls?"
"Al."
"Come on, Sam. You can't say the thought hasn't crossed your mind...."
"I'm meant to be defeating terrorists, not seducing women."
"Well, I would say, 'Why not a little bit of both?', but you'd give me one of those looks again.....yes, you're doing it right now. By the way, I checked on Jenny. She's all in one piece. It turns out the terrorists tied her up with the one man in the firm that she's been secretly in love with for ages. He's been feeling the same way about her and when I found her with him in the conference room stationery cupboard....well, let's say they were busy filling everything out in triplicate. They knew exactly what to give each other for Christmas."
"Al, you watched?"
"Only for a minute or two, just to check that she was willing. Believe me, she was more than willing."
"That'll do Al."
Al shrugged, then turned to Sam.
"It's the eighties, Sam. People are enjoying full and active sex lives."
"You know perfectly well that I have to care deeply about a woman before we make love. I'm not a rabbit, unlike some people I know."
Al flinched.
"Yes, well; for your information, I cared about each and every one...even the ones where it would have seemed to the casual observer that it was purely physical."
Sam looked at the carpet.
"I'm sorry, Al. I'm more than a little concerned that I may have to face death in the next few hours or so. I did hope that I might come home one day."
'And you hit a sore spot. I'm drawn to Grace so strongly that I have been thinking about it....for the first time in ages.'
"Apology accepted. Truce?"
Sam smiled slowly, "Yes. Truce."
Sam toasted Al with his drink.
By the time he had finished the can, Grace was out and dressed. She was wearing a dark blue tracksuit similar to Sam's.
"I'm sorry I haven't got my gun. It's in my holster down at reception. You can't really hide a gun under a toga."
Sam smiled.
"No, I guess you can't. You'd be all right with a knife, though. Remember Julius Caesar?"
"Yes, but that would have looked suspicious at tonight's party. Everyone was meant to be there to enjoy themselves, not assassinate each other."
"What do you suggest? Go for the terrorists or something else?"
Al looked at Sam.
"Well, when I left the chairman a couple of minutes ago, he was happily asleep in his bed next to his lady-love. The nozzles haven't got to him yet."
Sam turned to Grace.
"I say we risk doing a little damage on our way up to the penthouse." Grace nodded and stood up. She took a deep breath.
"Okay, Sam. Let's go."
Grace peered out of her door, then motioned Sam to follow. They made for the stairwell. Al checked it was safe, then Sam cautiously pushed open the door. Half a flight down was a sprinkler. Grace produced a lighter from her pocket and quietly crept down the stairs to set it off. The sprinkler near Sam went off too, as did a couple of others. Sam deliberately set off the powder fire extinguisher and they started up the plush staircase, Al drifting ahead to see that the coast was clear. They carried on setting off the sprinklers as they went until the damp got to the lighter and they had to give up after a couple of flights. Al checked the doors to the landing.
"Hey, there's a couple of the bad guys through here. They're coming this way."
Sam flattened himself against the wall and Grace did the same.
'This is almost enjoyable. It must be the adrenaline.'
The gunmen came through the door and both Sam and Grace pounced. Sam was too busy to see how Grace was getting on, but the two men were certainly taken by surprise and were soon trussed up and unconscious. Grace's mouth twitched into a smile.
"Good work, Sam. Two down and six to go."
"At least we've got some weapons now."
Grace used the but of her pistol to set off the fire alarm. Sam winced as the loud siren filled the air.
"C'mon. It's a race against time now."
Sam nodded as he followed her up the stairs at a run, taking them two at a time, but trying to make as little sound as possible. Sam appreciated the feline energy in Grace's legs as she ran ahead of him. She slowed down carefully as they reached the top and paused briefly to catch her breath. A faint glazing of perspiration caught the ends of her hair next to her face and her colour had risen slightly. She smiled at Sam again.
"Glad to see you could keep up. Now for the tricky part."
Sam put his hand on hers, feeling her pulse as he did so. It was already slowing.
"I'm impressed," he told her, "You really are fit."
Grace's smile was almost radiant. Sam ignored Al and kissed her briefly on the lips.
"Take care."
"And you, Sam," she pulled him deliberately back towards her, "Just in case one of us doesn't make it..."
Her lips were both soft and firm at the same time. Sam closed his eyes and surrendered, giving everything into the kiss. When he finally and reluctantly pulled away, his head was spinning and his mouth had been completely seduced by the sweetness of her response. Grace touched his chin gently.
"And you are some kisser, Sam. You take care as well."
She slipped through the door.
"Wow!" Al commented,"I haven't seen you that abandoned in ages."
Sam gave Al one of his admonishing glances.
"Yes, but we have to concentrate now. Go and scout out the land for us. I want us both to get through this in one piece."
Al duly disappeared, but there was a significant gleam in his eyes.
Sam crept into the room and flattened himself on the floor in the small entrance room. Ahead lay three doors and beyond the middle one, sounds of an intense struggle. Grace gestured to her right and Sam followed into the en-suite bathroom. It was a lavish affair, decked out in champagne porcelain and gold and complete with both shower and a huge sunken bath. The carpet was thick, fluffy and pale gold. Al's eyes gleamed.
"I remember spending a lot of time in a bathroom like this with Maxine. We used to get in the bath every night and...."
Sam glared at Al.
"Stop it, Al," he muttered.
"Aw, Sam. Even you must have tried it once..."
Sam decided to favour Al with his best poker face. He turned to Grace.
"What do we do now?"
Al's face told Sam that he could think of a few things, but Sam ignored him.
"Well, in the door across the hall, there's the electrical controls for this suite. I need to you to stand guard while I examine it."
"Okay."
Grace opened the door again with extreme caution, but the hall was clear.
Sam carefully positioned himself so that he could tackle someone from either direction. Al watched as Grace opened the junction box and started to undo the casing. She glanced inside, put in her hand and threw the main switch and several others. Thick darkness descended instantly. Sam let Grace out beside him as the door they hadn't tried burst open. Bullets rang out in the darkness from both Sam and Grace and the assailant. Sam heard the thud as the first gunman hit the floor, then his hands were full taking care of the next person. Sam wrestled the body to the ground, with Al trying to see what was happening and shouting words of encouragement. The assailant kicked, punched and fought well, then tried to strangle Sam. Sam used his legs and arms to go into a backward roll, sending the other person flying into something hard with a thud.
"You got him, Sam! He's out cold against the wall."
More shots rang out and Sam kept low, crawling along the floor. The air was thick with tension. Sam strained his ears, listening for Grace and the other men. He heard more shots and fighting some way ahead. Sam continued along the floor and tripped someone up, who immediately fell on him and pinned him to the floor. He felt a gun at his temple and went limp deliberately. He tried to pray, then the gun was pulled violently away. Sam realised that Grace was coming to the rescue. He could recognise her breathing as she helped him.
Sam felt something warm and sticky on his hands and realised it was blood. He couldn't tell whether it was his, Grace's or the assailant's. Grace touched him briefly on the shoulder, then they were off again. All the gunmen seemed to have silencers, but the thud when they went off was still considerable. Sam's fingers encountered a wall.
"Right, Sam. The master bedroom's to the right."
Sam felt his way along the wall, trying to make out anything at all in the darkness. There came another couple of shots, then an almighty crash from a window breaking. An instant later, Sam was covered in fine shards of glass, the air was freezing cold and the curtains were ripped away as someone struggled in them in front of Sam.
Sam gingerly picked himself off the carpet and carefully stood to his feet, dislodging the glass as he did so. He could feel several places where the glass had nicked his skin, but he was grateful that it hadn't been anything worse. The wind outside was keen as Sam regained his bearings. Distant lights combined with moonlight were making things much easier to see. Suddenly a man in black, complete with ski-mask came in through the window. Sam put up his hands.
"I'm with INTERPOL," he said quickly.
A flashlight was shone in his face, making him wince.
"Alright. Stand aside and let us finish up the job."
Sam watched as several more similar men came in and soon the chairman was liberated and the other gun-men rounded up. Al consulted his Handlink.
"Ah, S.A.S. Some of the best. The chairman and his lovely lady are all right and these nozzles get sent down for a good long time."
Sam looked around the room, then realised that Grace had been pinned under the curtain with one of the gunmen. He moved forward, pulled off the rich burgundy velvet and encountered a dead body.
"Oh, no. Not Grace, please..."
As Sam rolled the body over, he saw it was the gunman. Grace lay underneath, pale in the moonlight. Blood covered her tracksuit top. She moaned faintly. Sam knelt at her side.
"It's okay, Grace. We did it. The S.A.S. are here now."
Her eyelids fluttered open and she winced. When she saw Sam, her lips curved into a beautiful smile.
"You were brilliant. The best partner I ever had. Thank-you for treating me like a lady."
Al crouched beside Sam, his face full of concern, then Grace looked right at him, "And you are unbelievably naughty, Al. Just you wait..."
"How do you know my name?"
Grace smiled enigmatically.
"One of the tricks of the trade," she looked back at Sam, "You're not the only one any more, Sam. There are at least five Leapers doing good in the world, but you're the best. The very best. And I've known about you and waited to meet you since I was 18."
Sam glanced back at Al in shock, the question already beginning to frame itself on his lips, but Al simply opened his mouth in surprise, then vanished into thin air. No door; just vanished. Sam turned back to Grace just in time to see the blue-silver of a leap envelope her.
"Au revoir, Sam."
She vanished, leaving nothing behind. Sam sat down on the carpet heavily in a state of shock and touched the place where her body had just been. The shock was compounded by the pain of losing her so soon.
"Ohhh, BOY!"
'The Lover gazed upon himself so that he might be a mirror in which to behold his Beloved and he gazed upon the Beloved as in a mirror in which he might have knowledge of himself.' Kahlil Gibran, mystic
1976/1999
Sam felt the place between the leaps ejecting him out into the cold world again, protesting, like a new-born baby.
'If only I had someone to touch again....someone who would look into my eyes and call me by my name. It's so lonely, out here.'
Reality rushed up to meet him. He was seated at a desk, in an office. There were crime prevention posters on the walls. Sam looked down at himself. No uniform. There was a name plaque on the desk. Sam turned it around. C. Elliott. He stood up slowly, taking in the pantyhose covering his legs as he did so.
"Ohhh, boy; not again!"
Sam saw a small circular mirror on the wall with a convex surface. He walked over cautiously, glad that his hostess liked wearing flat lace- ups. He peered at the somewhat distorted reflection in the glass. Thick naturally blonde hair, pale blue eyes in a smart navy suit. It was difficult to make out any more. Sam retreated to the desk and sighed.
'I know You're trying to teach me more about women, but this does seem a rather strange way of going about things,' he mused to himself, 'I guess Miss or Mrs Elliott must be in the police, but presumably she's in the plain clothes' department. Quite high up to have a room of her own.'
Sam looked out of the window onto red brick Victorian houses. An unmistakable London Taxi drew up outside. He could see glimpses of several famous landmarks in the distance.
"How on Earth am I supposed to fake a working knowledge of the British police system? American police was bad enough...!"
Al entered and shared the view out of the window.
"Wow! Free travel to London! Okay, Sam, we're doing our best, but Miss Elliott is apparently shut up tighter than a clam. She sussed out Beena as soon as she leaped in and thinks she's in a hostage situation. Beena is considering sending me in there in my uniform.....it might help, I suppose."
Al peered out of the window.
"Ah, a registration plate! From that, I can tell you that we're somewhere in the mid-Seventies, at least '75..and you know where and who you are...the 'C' stands for Cassandra, but no-one here will call you that, just 'Ma'am' or maybe 'Sir' - I'm not sure how protocol works yet. I'll get Ziggy to do some fine tuning and then I'll get back to you."
"Okay, Al, but be as quick as you can, please? I have no idea what to say if I get presented with real police work."
Al sighed as he went back out of the Imaging Chamber.
"Okay, Ziggy; Gushie - we need everything there is on British plain clothes' police, in London, around 1975 or so. Do a trace on the life of a C. Elliott, probably an officer, maybe even a high-ranking one."
"I HAVE SOME INFORMATION ON CASSANDRA ELLIOTT. SHE WAS BORN IN LONDON IN 1946, THEN HER MOTHER TOOK HER TO SAFETY IN THE COUNTRY DURING THE BLITZ. IT IS 1976, JUST BEFORE THE UNUSUALLY LONG HOT SUMMER IN BRITAIN THAT YEAR. MISS ELLIOTT IS CURRENTLY UNMARRIED IN 1976. SHE HOLDS THE RANK OF DETECTIVE INSPECTOR."
"Okay, that'll do for now, Ziggy. I'll see if I can get anything out of the lady personally." Al decided to grab a quick shower before he changed into his dress uniform. He walked rather stiffly along the corridor to the Waiting Room. Doctor Verbeena Beeks was there to greet him.
"I took your advice, Beena. Any change?"
The elegant psychiatrist slowly shook her head.
"She's not talking, if that's what you mean. We've offered her food and water, but she doesn't seem to have touched it."
"Has she seen her face....I mean, Sam's face, in the mirror?"
"Not yet....I decided she might really freak if I tried that. Go gently, Al."
"Yeah, I know the drill, we've done it so often before...."
Al took a deep breath and entered the room. A fair-haired woman in Sam's fermi suit sat bolt upright with her back to him.
"I heard you come in. Don't try anything"
The lady whirled around and she and Al gasped simultaneously. Cassandra recovered her poise first.
"Well, you're not a psychiatrist, that's certain. Military....but not British. Is this a covert operation?"
Al was trying to remember how to breathe. Cassandra was absolutely stunning, even with her hair scraped back from her face into a tight bun. Al took in her lovely face, the baby blue eyes and the exquisite full mouth. Even if that had been all, he would have been stopped dead. As it was, the generous curves lower down, stretching the Fermi suit so that it moulded to her like a second skin, proved severely distracting. Al's mouth went dry.
'Good grief! I haven't been this overwhelmed by a woman in ages'.
Al managed a reassuring smile.
"Yes...American Navy. I'm an Admiral."
Cassandra nodded.
"And this is not a ship, so where am I? Make sure it's the truth, now. I'm very good at picking up liars."
Her eyes narrowed. Al's appreciation of her poise rose several-fold.
"That doesn't surprise me. We know that you're a high-ranking police officer. And you're not a hostage, not in the conventional sense. We'll do everything we can to make your stay as pleasant as possible. My name is Albert Calavicci, but you can call me Al, if you like."
"I feel that I should call you 'Sir' in that uniform. With a name like that you must be Italian."
Al's smile widened.
"Absolutely, yes. Now, let me tell you where and when you are."
"When?"
"It's a long story, Ms Elliott."
She looked at him very directly.
"Have you got anything better to do? I might as well hear you out. This is not like anywhere else I've ever been."
Al managed to keep his tone professional as he explained everything Cassandra needed to know. At last there was one thing left. With a sinking feeling in his heart he took her over to the mirrored table. He sighed inwardly. At the moment she was blissfully unaware of her new aura and so was Al. Once she saw Sam, though, things would change; they almost always did.
"I don't know how to prepare you for this. Some people scream, some faint, some reject what they see. You won't see your own face looking back at you; it's the face of Doctor Beckett. He looks like you back in London."
"I think I understand.....ohh!" she turned to Al, "Do you see him or me?"
"That's complicated. When I look in the mirror there, I see my friend. But when I look directly at you, I see you. Ziggy did some changes, so that I could always see Sam as himself in the past."
"That makes sense. I'd want it that way if it was a colleague of mine out on a mission. So, do I have to stay in this room? It reminds me of an operating theatre."
She flashed a brilliant smile at Al.
"Sorry, Ms Elliott. We can't have you seeing too much of the future."
"But I've seen Dr Beeks and you. And his face. Your uniform is advanced, too. If I'm twenty three years in the future, then you're actually not that much older than me, are you?"
Al was pleased again by her quick mind.
"Ten years," he admitted, "I was forty in 1976."
"I keep being told I must have a holiday. I suppose this is a kind of holiday....though it's nothing like Italy."
Al boggled, "You went to Italy?"
"You told me your story; let me tell you one of mine."
It was over an hour later when Al finally left, walking on a cloud of delight. She had brought back to life memories of Lake Garda, Verona and Venice for Al. He had relaxed and enthused with her about the beauty of the Italian countryside and even made her laugh. It was that which nearly undid all his resolve to maintain a professional distance. It was a husky, seductive laugh and Al had been severely tempted to bridge the gap between them and kiss her, but the remembered reflection in the mirror held him back.
'Watch it, Calavicci. It can't happen. Damned shame, though. At least I can report substantial progress to Beena. Ohhh, if only things were different....'
It wasn't until he was on his way back to Sam that he started to wonder why Cassandra Elliott had opened up to him.
"Okay, Sam." Al began, filling his friend in on all the details, while Sam sat behind the desk and nodded. He had just finished when a male officer knocked and walked in. He was tall, broad-shouldered with greying black hair and pushing fifty.
"Excuse me, Ma'am. You know we've been watching the house of the Macguire brothers for some time?" Sam nodded, trying to look as if he understood, "Well, C1 thinks they might be into drugs and C5 suspects that one of our lot has been on the take and selling them information in exchange for the merchandise."
Al feverishly tapped the Handlink.
"Er...C1 is the drug squad, central office and has links with INTERPOL; C5 is the internal admin and you may have a bent cop on your hands," Al's eyes narrowed in a sudden flash of anger, "Ziggy says that the stake-out has been a waste of time so far....that would make sense. Your colleague's name is Smith."
"Okay, Smith..." Sam began, "So it sounds like the stake-out may be corrupted. One of the officers there is tipping off the Macguires."
The man nodded slowly.
"We found this in a public waste-bin."
He held out a sheet of paper. Sam took it and Al read it over his shoulder. It described in graphic detail what violence somebody would like to do with D.I. Elliott if he ever got his hands on her. Al became very angry on her behalf. So did Sam.
"Do you think a head-on approach is best?"
Smith nodded.
"I'm afraid so, Ma'am. Your personal appearance at the stake-out will probably incite our culprit to action. He probably finds you sexually attractive, so you'll need to be very careful. Take a gun with you and an extra pair of eyes."
Sam followed his heart.
"Then you'd better come with me, Smith."
"Yes, Ma'am, I will. We'll get the little bast...sorry, we'll get him."
Al felt he owed it to Cassandra to report on Sam's activities. He had changed to his favourite blue suit when he went in. Cassandra looked at him with surprise and a hint of something else, something Al recognised but tried to ignore. Cassie found him attractive.
"Is that what all U.S. Admirals wear off-duty?"
Al smiled.
"Oh, this. No...I just prefer colorful clothes."
"Very nice, too. It's a shame that you don't all wear that. You could have got one in my size. This thing is like something out of a sixties spy series."
"Yes, I'm sorry about that. Fermi suits weren't exactly built with fashion in mind, although..."
Al managed to stop himself blurting out how attractive she looked just in time. It didn't, however, stop the renewed rush of highly interested male hormones from surging through his body.
"If we're going to be informal, you can call me Cassandra."
To Al's surprise, she unpinned her hair, which fell in soft waves around her shoulders. The bottom-most curls just reached the tips of her breasts. Al blinked to try to dispel the images that were now running heatedly through his mind.
"You look like a Cassie to me," he managed, his mouth acting somewhat independently of his brain.
Cassandra smiled winningly and almost seductively.
"No-one's called me Cassie in years. I'd forgotten how nice it was to hear it. My first lover called me Cassie."
'Oh, BOY!'.
Al's brain trembled incoherently. He pulled out a cigar and turned away, trying to regain objectivity.
"You smoke cigars?"
Al looked away across the room at nothing in particular.
"Yes.....sorry, I should have asked your permission first."
He heard her throaty laugh. The inner desires went up a notch.
"You're talking to a fellow addict. I don't suppose you've got a spare one of those?"
Al looked back at her, which wasn't entirely safe for his equilibrium.
"No, I'm sorry. I don't meet many women who like the smell of cigars, and not many dare to smoke them."
Cassandra smiled again and the sun came out.
"You couldn't possibly share the one you've got?"
Al gallantly handed it over and their hands brushed against each other. He tried to ignore the jolt of awareness going up his arm. She shut her eyes and her lips closed around the cigar. Al was fixated, unable to turn away. When she handed it back, Al took it, his hand trembling.
'I'm actually going to put my lips next to something she's just had in her mouth. I'm shaking inside like a schoolboy'.
He started to turn away, but she put her hand on his shoulder.
"I can read your body language, Al. You find me highly attractive, don't you?"
He looked into her face. He could no longer deny it, "Yes," he whispered, hoarsely.
"It's that intense for me, too. I'd heard of captives being attracted to their captors, but I never thought it would happen to me. You are so handsome and I know you are trying desperately to be professional about this situation. So am I, but every time I look at you....."
"Cassie, don't, please. We can't."
She drew closer until their faces were only a couple of inches apart.
"Not even one kiss?"
Al teetered on the brink, tempted almost beyond endurance.
"I don't think just one kiss would be enough, Cassie."
"If we made it a really good kiss, I think I could handle it. You've never felt like this about a Leapee before, have you?"
"No, I haven't. I've had screaming, fainting, physical violence, people throwing up and tantrums. I've never had a Leapee who found me attractive."
Cassie stroked his face gently. Al felt his hands trembling with desire.
"So this is a first for both of us."
Al closed his eyes briefly, then looked back at her.
'It's no good. I am going to have to kiss her or die.'
"Your eyes are as blue as Lake Garda," he murmured.
Cassandra slid off the bed into his arms. All the nerve endings in Al's body began to tingle in appreciation and anticipation. They both paused deliberately, spinning out the tension. Al touched her hair, then began moving closer. He decided to kiss her slowly. A last remnant of his mind began to protest weakly.
'But she's wearing Sam's aura...'
Then his lips touched hers and the sheer pleasure wiped out every other conscious thought in his body. He started with gentle caresses, which she returned so fully, he felt intoxicated. He was just beginning to kiss her more deeply when the Handlink beeped shrilly several times.
"Hell, damn and blast!"
He pulled away, furious and frustrated. Cassie ruffled his hair.
"I thought it was pretty fabulous, speaking personally."
Al's mouth curved into a soft apologetic smile and his eyes glowed.
"It was incredible, but I've got this damned gooseberry called Ziggy who's just ruined the moment. I'm sorry, Cassie, but Sam's in trouble."
Al punched the Handlink.
"He's got to the stake-out.....there's a house overlooking the one where the drug dealers are suspected to be."
"That's common practice."
"Yes, here too. But it looks like one of your lot is working for the other side."
Cassandra's eyes narrowed angrily.
"I know my men and women better than anyone. Is there any chance of my getting a look at what's going on? I could spot something that you or Sam might miss."
Al looked up at her, taking in the business-as- usual attitude.
"Okay. We've let some Leapees in with me before. You'd better follow me."
It was evening. Sam followed Smith from the un-marked car into the building. Two male officers were seated, hiding by the upstairs bedroom window with binoculars and a tape recorder. Smith spoke to them.
"Good evening, Matthews...Johnson. Any luck?"
Matthews took off the headphones that he'd been wearing.
"Not yet, sir. The Macguires are giving nothing away."
Sam moved cautiously over to the window between the two men, trying to be nonchalant.
"Any passers by?"
Al punched the Handlink and went to check.
"Just people going home from work. No lights on in the Macguires' place." Sam stood up slowly. The street-light from outside illuminated him for a split second before he stepped back and touched Johnson on the shoulder deliberately, then moved over to Matthews.
"Where did you hide the monitor?"
Matthews swallowed slightly and looked up at Sam.
"Usual - telephone tapping through the junction box, Ma'am."
"It's a shame we couldn't get in there and monitor all their conversations. I'm going out on the street - I've got a disguise."
Sam looked at Smith and Al significantly. Sam went through to the back bedroom and pulled out what he'd borrowed from the huge wardrobe of disguises.
"What do you think, Al? Will this really work?"
Sam held up a T-shirt and a pair of hot pants with a bib. Cassie chuckled next to Al.
"My goodness, those are going to look strange on your friend."
Al touched Cassie so that Sam could see her. Sam blinked, then Al made the introductions. Cassie could see that Sam was uncomfortable changing in front of a woman, so she let go for a while until he was finished.
"I do hope this is going to work. Smith said that something slightly over the top should make the bent cop react."
Cassie laughed again.
"Well, I can safely say that none of the C.I.D. has seen me like that before. Good luck, Sam and watch both the men in there carefully."
Sam and Al both nodded.
'Why did Sam have to choose hot pants?' Al mused uncomfortably, 'I'm trying to concentrate, but all I can see is Cassie wearing them. Thank goodness there isn't a mirror in here...'
Al pulled himself ruthlessly back to the task in hand. Sam put Cassie's hand-gun in the pocket of the hot-pants as he went back to the other room.
"I'm just going out now...."
All three men looked around. Johnson rose to his feet.
"Do you think it's wise, going out there like that?"
Sam's hand covered his gun.
"I was hoping we might provoke them into making a move."
Matthews shuffled uncomfortably. Sam and Al's attention flicked immediately towards him.
"I don't like it. It should be one of us. I'll go....they think we live here, after all."
"How do they know that?"
Sam's voice took on a slightly steely edge as he moved nearer. Matthews stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers.
"Well, we've been coming and going at regular intervals. You know the drill."
Sam looked Matthews straight in the eye and tried to smile naturally.
"I'm sure you're doing a great job."
Matthews licked his lips nervously. Cassie touched Al's shoulder.
"It's him. He's sweaty, nervous....and excited. He's getting a kick out of this."
Sam touched Matthews' shoulder and the other man tried to pounce. Before he knew what was happening, Matthews was on the floor, under Sam's feet with two guns at his head.
"You bitch! I should have got that promotion, dammit. I bet you screwed the superintendent."
Cassie's eyes flashed in anger, "I got my job on merit, Matthews..."
She trailed off, her eyes flashing. Al relayed Cassie's words to Sam. Smith handcuffed Matthews and hauled him away.
"I'm sorry, Ma'am; I had no idea." Johnson spoke out of shock.
"I'll...er...go and change back and then check on the tap in the telephone exchange. I'll fill in until you can get someone else down here, Smith."
"Very well, Ma'am." Smith ushered Matthews out of the room.
Al waited while Sam changed back into the blue suit and accompanied him to the junction box down the road, away from the line of sight of the Macguire's house. Cassie nodded.
"It's an incomplete tap. No wonder we got nothing from them."
She passed instructions to Sam, who reconnected the tap and then went back carefully to the house. Johnson looked up as Sam re-entered the room.
"I think it's going to be a long wait."
Sam nodded and smiled somewhat grimly.
"That's okay. Let's hope we can catch these criminals now."
Al and Cassie left Sam to the unenviable task of a long wait through the night without sleep.
"You know," said Cassie, "I should have guessed that Matthews was the informer. I could hear the undercurrents in his voice just before he cracked. There's a lot you can deduce, even from the most banal of conversations."
Al clearly heard the thinly disguised yearning and passion in Cassie's voice.
"Absolutely," he answered, "It's amazing the coded messages you can give if you put your mind to it,"
'I can't resist you any more: I want to love you.'
"You were brilliant, Cassie."
'And I'm falling for you. Hell, I've fallen.'
She smiled softly in understanding.
"That's what I'm paid for. Do I go back to the Operating Theatre again?" 'Please say no. I need you.'
"Well, I think so. It's going to be at least eight hours until Sam is likely to need me again. I had planned to catch up on some sleep."
The last word stayed hanging between them, stretching the tension.
'Sleep is the last thing on my mind at the moment.'
"Where do you do that? There's just offices and military stuff down here."
"I have a bed in my office or, if Sam's away for a long time, a condo up on the surface."
Al gestured upwards. Desire thrummed inside him, filling him with intense longing. They walked almost nonchalantly along the corridor.
"This is your office, right here. I suppose I'd better say goodnight, then?"
'Please, Al. This may be the only chance we have.'
"Yes, goodnight, Cassie."
'Yes, Cassie....Oh, boy; yes!'
Her eyes were shining and her lips were softly parted. His desire became so intense that it was almost painful.
Their hands reached out, met, then suddenly they were in each others' arms. Al pulled her inside the office and locked the door behind him even as Cassie wrapped her arms around his neck. His lips found hers feverishly and they both moaned with barely suppressed hunger and desire. Al held her tight against him, revelling in the feel of her. He moved into the room, kissing and caressing all the way. They bumped into the desk and Cassie wrapped her legs around him, drawing him right against her. Cassie fumbled, trying to find the opening in the Fermi suit. Al grinned.
"I'll have to help you...there's a knack to those things. And Cassie, gorgeous, you don't have to worry about...complications."
Cassie's smile was radiant as she held him in her arms.
"I know, Al. At least, I guessed."
Al reached around Cassie and produced a package. He smiled seductively as he shed his jacket.
"We'll just have to make sure they're not wasted, won't we?"
Morning found Al and Cassie wrapped in each other's arms. He stroked her hair and face for the umpteenth time.
"God, I wish I could give you more than just one night."
Cassie's eyes were mischievous.
"Could you honestly give me anything that would equal what we've just shared?"
"Equal...maybe, if you gave me about a month to recover. Better, never. You are incredible, my gorgeous Cassie. You're going to take away my undying admiration and a little piece of my heart. You're three times a lady, as the song goes."
Cassie's answering smile was gentle, yet showed her deep satisfaction.
"You are the best, Al. Never forget that. The best I ever had. I wish we could have had longer, too, but sometimes one night is all you ever get. When I'm a ninety year old granny in a wheelchair, I hope that I shall remember what we shared and I will always be so grateful."
"Well, you'd better watch out, Cassie. If I'm still around, I'll be chasing you in my wheelchair for a second helping!"
Cassie laughed, a full musical laugh that thrilled Al to his soul.
"Al, you're incorrigible! And I'm always going to be more than a little in love with you, but I think you know that by now."
Al looked at his watch.
"And I'm half in love with you, but my darling, it's showtime. I have to go back to Sam and you need to get back into the Fermi suit, just incase Sam comes home."
Cassie picked it up off the floor where it had been discarded over seven hours previously.
"I still don't like it, even after the sexy way you removed it last night."
Al grinned as he began to help her back into it.
"Believe me, my beautiful Cassie; the way you fill it out is enough to make even the Pope look twice."
Cassie's grin matched Al's, "It made you that excited?"
"Couldn't you tell?"
"Well, actually, yes. I could tell that from the moment you laid eyes on me. And last night, when you were so close, I had no doubts at all about how excited you were. But it's such a boost to the ego hearing you say so."
Al walked Cassie back to the Waiting Room. He took her gently in his arms once the door was closed.
"I hate 'goodbyes', especially when it's to such a wonderful woman as you are."
Cassie smiled gently.
"Then let's say 'au revoir', Al. No-one else will ever be able to say my name as wonderfully and seductively as you do."
"Cassie..."
She put her arms around his neck.
"Ohhh, Al. Take care of yourself. Maybe I'll turn up here as a 53 year old one of these days."
"You take care as well. You can come knocking on my door any time."
They shared one last kiss, then Al had to leave her. Cassie smiled a secret womanly smile to herself.
"Three times a lady...?" she murmured as the leap caught her.
--------------------------------
1988/1999
Al lost no time in going back to the Imaging Chamber once Sam had leaped. He knew it was crazy, that there was no way Cassie could still be there, but he had to see for himself. He got there even ahead of Doctor Beeks and flung open the door. The room was still full of her fragrance; peach blossom on top of her own special scent. He closed his eyes, then snapped them open again. He looked around the chamber several times. Nothing. Nobody.
"Ziggy? What's going on? You said that Sam had leaped."
"HE HAS. BUT HIS AURA HAS GONE TOO. WHEREVER MY FATHER IS, HE IS WHOLLY HIMSELF."
Al stumbled over to the bed, where the Fermi suit lay in a crumpled heap. He clutched it to his chest. Cassie's perfume was almost unbearably intense, as was the double void in his heart.
"Sam, where are you? Ohhhh, boy!"
Sam came down to reality with a bump, onto a hard tiled floor. He felt a toilet seat behind him. The wood had scraped his back slightly as he sat down. Then he looked down at himself and blushed all over. He was naked.
"Ohhh, boyy!" he gasped.
He crouched down very carefully and peered under the locked door. No- one in sight and there, only feet away, on a gold towel rail were two fairly substantial blue towels. He unlocked the door and made a dash for it, grabbed the towels and retreated to his sanctuary. Just as he disappeared, two men walked in.
'Well, unless I'm a very strange woman, that narrows down the options'. Sam risked another glance under the door. Sandals and...were those Kaftans? Sam peered upwards. No, togas. A Roman theme party! Sam looked at the towels in his hands and began to construct something that he hoped would pass close scrutiny. The two men made idle small-talk, concluded their business, complained about the missing towels. One of them spoke.
"I wonder if Jenny will let me dry my hands on her toga?"
"Yes, but which part, Brian? You'd have to pick between her pert bottom and that luscious pair of breasts at the front."
Sam began to blush with a mixture of shame and anger.
"How about one hand on a breast and the other, really slowly, over her rear? I want to get that woman so hot that she can't think straight."
Sam began to wish he could either go temporarily deaf or take Brian apart, piece by piece.
"Yes, I know. You and every other man in the company who isn't happily married or gay. Who knows, a little wine, some dancing and she could fall into your lap like a ripe peach."
"And what a peach! Just the other week....."
Thankfully they left, leaving Sam fighting his urge to get really mad. 'Well, maybe if I find this Jenny I can warn her, though if she's as smart as she sounds, she already knows of Brian's intentions'.
Sam managed something that was surprisingly passable, all things considered. It certainly covered everything that needed to be covered with room to spare.
'This must be some place if they can afford giant bath-size towels in the bathrooms. And, weren't those English accents? At least Brian sounded English, the other one I'm not sure of.'
Sam took a deep breath and left the cubicle. He went over to the mirror at last, then had to hold onto the counter to stop himself falling.
"Ohmygod! I'm me! How the hell....? I look the same; a little older, I guess, tired - though that's no surprise - I must be heading to my mid-forties by the look of things. How long have I been gone? AL? Where are you?"
Sam was quite a bit paler when he managed to emerge from the bathroom. he looked around the door gingerly, but the Roman party was definitely in full swing. He spotted several other guests in togas made from towels and began to relax slightly. He edged back into the room. There was a large circular pit in the floor, with fitted couches around it and a huge pile of cushions had been thrown in. Amongst those cushions, several couples were apparently getting to know one another rather well.
'Oh, boy; an orgy too! It must be quite late on or the drink's been flowing. Thank goodness I'm still sober.'
Sam spotted several people dressed in burgundy livery around the room, gazing on as if nothing particularly out of the ordinary was happening. Sam grinned inwardly.
'I bet they'll have a tale to tell when they get off-duty.'
Sam spotted a table half full of buffet food and went over to investigate. He spotted Brian at the far end, trying to ingratiate himself with a red-haired woman.
"C'mon, darling. It's a New Years Eve party. Just one kiss under the mistletoe?"
To Sam's surprise, she agreed. Sam watched cautiously, slowly swallowing his mouthful of food, ready to pounce. The mistletoe was produced. Brian plunged in, over-eager, then just as rapidly pulled back.
"Why you little...."
"Ha! Fifteen love, you dirty old man! She bit his tongue, Sam!"
"Al, I've been worried about you and Jenny."
Al grinned.
"I think Jenny can take care of herself, don't you? Mind you," he continued, you can see why all the men go ga-ga over her. She's something else."
Jenny turned around and walked swiftly away from Brian with her head held high. Sam had to admit that she was pretty stunning, although he'd always been a little nervous of fiery red-heads.
"It's not fair, Sam. I thought God had broken the mould when he made Cassie and now I see He issued the same design again...well, nearly as good. He just changed the coloring and made her somewhat taller, that's all."
"Cassie?"
Al sighed and decided on an almost-truth.
"A brief encounter....and one of the best, Sam. The best in a long, long time. We only had one night together, but it was worth waiting for. Sometimes one night is all you get."
Sam could see the wistful look in Al's eyes and decided to accept and acknowledge it.
"I've had one or two of those, Al. Anyway, how did you find me? I seem to be here myself, but no-one's batted an eyelid."
"Yeah, Ziggy went ape; Gushie nearly fainted and it's all been a little frantic. Ziggy reckons it's because I had to work closely with the last Leapee," Al pulled out a cigar and his face went unusually closed as he began to smoke it, "Anyway, when she went, your aura got sucked back through time and you sort of met half-way. Don't ask me how or why, I don't understand. It's New Year's Eve 1988 and you're still in London, at this toga party. It's a mega bash for some huge corporation, they've got the whole hotel for the holidays; partners, wives, the whole bang shooting match. You can probably get away with your own name. All the guests are either tanked up or...er..doing the horizontal tango, like those seem to be doing down there."
"Yes, but why am I here?"
"We don't know. The fact that you're here at all is causing Ziggy to have conniption fits. Just keep your eyes and ears open and try not to get into any trouble."
Al punched his Handlink and made his exit after one last look around at the female talent in the room. Sam sighed and went back to the buffet table. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent square meal. He instinctively picked out higher energy foods. He'd realised early on that his host or hostess often had the need of them later. Sam had moved on from the food to something with as little alcohol as possible when it happened. Loud bangs and crashes came from just outside. Sam put down his drink hurriedly after one last mouthful. He caught a familiar smell in the air.
'Uh-oh. Gunsmoke, bullets. What on Earth is going on?'
The double doors of the room burst open and half a dozen or so men in black burst in and razed the room with silent but deadly gunfire. Sam had already thrown himself under the buffet table, where there was another, female guest in hiding too. When Sam peered out from under the tablecloth, the gunmen were silently and efficiently relieving the party-goers of their valuables. Sam saw that most people were still alive, but being systematically tied up in pairs. The gunmen manhandled each duo into separate rooms and locked the doors.
'An inside job? Or maybe they got the keys at gunpoint? I see they finished off all the employees in livery.'
It didn't take the gunmen long to spot Sam and his companion. They were hauled out, gagged and tied face together. Sam tried to apologise silently to the lady with his eyes before the blindfold went on. He was left with an impression of short, dark hair cut in a ragamuffin style, a strong yet somewhat elfin face and eyes of an indeterminate pale colour. They were pushed and shoved at gun-point through two sets of doors, then sharply left into a small dark room. Sam heard the key turn in the lock and darkness descended.
Sam felt his companion nudging him gently as the footfalls of the gunmen faded away. He followed her lead and they shuffled over to the door. He heard a click and was aware through his blindfold that she had managed to find a light-switch. Then he felt her head moving slowly yet determinedly, her jaw working as she did so.
"I've got my gag out. I'm going to help you with your blindfold and gag, then we'll see if we can get out of these ropes. My name is Grace Steers; I'm a sort of trouble-shooter and know this hotel inside out. You picked a good person to be tied up with tonight. Okay?"
Sam nodded.
"Good. Now hold still if you can and I'll do my best."
Sam felt her teeth picking at his gag, wriggling and pulling. He tried to help as much as he could. Slowly, the material eased down. It hurt quite a bit as it dragged slowly over his mouth, but he was relieved to feel it going. Grace's lips brushed his several times out of necessity as she released him and it was all Sam could do not to respond. Her lips were so mobile and soft, her breath sweet against his mouth.
"Thanks," he managed, as she started to attack the blindfold, "I'm Sam Beckett. You could say I'm used to getting in hot water, too."
"I bet you never had to kill someone?"
"Actually, I have, but it was a hard decision to make. If you plan to go after those nozzles, I would be willing to help."
Grace gave a short laugh.
"I've never heard that word before, but it's suitable. I would be grateful just to put a spanner or two in their works before the police arrive. It would be nice to put right some of what went wrong tonight."
At last the blindfold was off and Sam blinked as the unnatural blue- white of a fluorescent tube hit his eyes. He looked at Grace. She was barefoot, but her face was still close to his. She was incredibly attractive and...
"Your eyes are turquoise!" he exclaimed. She smiled wryly.
"They change colour. In some lights they are green, in others, blue. I'm part of the hotel security, you might say. Tonight I was working under cover. We had a rumour that something was about to happen...the gunmen are after holding the Chairman to ransom. And if you cross me, believe me, I know how to kill with my bare hands."
Sam boggled slightly, but then accepted her claim.
"Then I won't cross you. I'm a sensei myself, amongst other things." Grace's eyes narrowed.
"I don't remember seeing your name on the guest list. Who are you?"
Sam raided his memory, trying to pick something that would fit.
"Er....INTERPOL. We've heard about those gunmen in America. They're into ...er...drugs and money laundering, too," he guessed.
Grace nodded.
"Yes, that's what I'd heard. All right, if we can get out of these ropes, you're on the team. Two against eight is high odds, but at least we have a good chance of escaping detection. I suppose you learnt relaxation techniques when you did your martial arts?"
"Uh-huh."
Grace nodded again, then smiled briefly.
"Right. We collapse onto the floor as carefully as possible, then, using relaxation and breathing techniques, there's a good chance that we will be able to wriggle out of these bonds. The carpet will give us something to press against."
Sam looked around the storage cupboard, seeing towels and linen on all sides.
"If we pull down some of those, we'll have a softer landing."
Grace complied, then they fell onto the pile of towels.
Sam tried to blank his mind and concentrate on the job in hand, but it wasn't easy.
'Thank goodness Al isn't here. I can just guess what sleazy comments he would make. It doesn't help that Grace is a strong, highly attractive woman. Maybe if I close my eyes it'll help......ohhh, boy, no! That just makes it worse.'
Grace had moved only a few inches down Sam's body. He gritted his teeth quietly.
"Relax, Sam. The more we relax, the further I can move."
'That's what I'm dreading. This is almost unbearable. She's going to notice what she's doing to me soon.'
"Oooh, Sam! I've never seen 'Postman's Knock' played like that before."
'God, I'm going to have words with you about Al's entrances one day.'
"Well, I know what I'd be trying to do in your situation. She's stunning. But I know you, you're trying to resist," Al disappeared down to carpet level, "If you move up a foot or so, someone dropped a glass in here once upon a time. It's right under the back of the bottom shelf. It's all covered in dust, but if you smash it...."
Sam acted out noticing it and relaying the information to Grace. She smiled up at him.
"Okay, it'll be quicker, all being well. I was aware of your....discomfort."
"I'm sorry," Sam managed, as Grace reached her foot to hook out the glass, "I'm only human."
A strange look passed over Grace's face, then she smiled.
"If I'd had to fight you off, you would have been incapacitated by now."
"Oh, but what a way to go.....!"
Sam contented himself with glaring at Al.
It wasn't long before Grace had freed them with the sharp edge of the broken glass and they were sitting on the floor.
"I don't suppose you can pick locks?"
Grace looked at the door.
"No keyhole, Sam. You don't expect to have to break out of a storage room."
Al punched his Handlink as he puffed at his cigar and examined the room.
"Can you get out of that?"
Al pointed upwards.
Sam stood up and looked at the grate in the ceiling.
"Air conditioning?"
Grace looked at it too, "No, a service duct; but it will do if we can undo those screws....I haven't got any hairpins, but there is my belt."
Grace pulled it off and Al groaned softly.
"Ohh, boy. She's wearing a strapless bra under that toga. And matching lacy briefs," Sam's eyes threatened Al with murder, "Sorry Sam. It's just that now there's this one inch gap down my side and I can't help but see..."
'This isn't helping one bit. I've already been made very aware of her beautiful curves....but there's more to it than that. Much more.'
Grace climbed up the shelves and began to attack one of the screws with the metal buckle of her belt. When her efforts had released one screw, Sam climbed up the opposite shelves to help. At last, after several minutes, the screw shifted and Sam got it out. The grating swung away from the ceiling. Grace and Sam removed a third screw after a substantial effort and turned the grating around on it's one remaining screw. Sam picked up the loose screws and put the linen back on the shelves as tidily as possible. Grace smiled.
"Yes, of course. Try to cover our tracks. If some of the others open this cupboard, they may just think it was always empty."
At last the room was as pristine as they could make it. Sam helped Grace through the grill, then pulled himself through into the dusty service duct. Grace pulled the grating back over the hole and Sam put the screws down near it.
"Right. The chairman is...um...shall we say, entertaining his latest mistress up in the penthouse suite. It's a bit of a climb, Sam."
"Okay, Sam. I'll check on his progress and get back to you."
Sam relaxed somewhat as Al disappeared.
"Which way, Grace?"
"This way; towards the main corridor and the lifts. We might even be able to access the stair-wells. We have two options; go straight to the penthouse suite or do a little sabotage first. Putting the lights or power out may help us."
"Wouldn't the gun-men figure out what was happening?"
"That's a possibility. Of course, if we started a fire, then the sprinklers would be set off on that floor....and the stairwell has nice fire extinguishers to play with. We really can't tackle the gunmen without being armed ourselves...and preferably more suitably dressed."
"Well, I wouldn't argue with that. Let's go."
Sam followed Grace in crawling along the dusty service duct. He found himself fighting the urge to sneeze after only a few feet.
"Hold your nose, it'll help psychologically."
Sam thanked Grace and carried on behind her, trying to keep his eyes away from her shapely legs.
'The problem is that's she's too darned attractive. Plus she seemed to accept me on sight, no questions asked - well, not many. The question is 'Why?'; and if the answer is that she finds me equally attractive, I've got problems.'
It took several minutes to get to the junction, where the space was somewhat greater. Both Sam and Grace could crawl on hands and knees towards the lifts and the stairwell. Grace passed the main exit and carried straight on.
"Where are we going, exactly?" Sam whispered.
"There's an en-suite with direct access to this duct; no nasty screws to get past."
"Would I be correct in guessing that it belongs to you or someone you know?"
Grace grinned back at him in the semi-darkness.
"Sam Beckett, you are a quick thinker. It's mine; in my job you never know when you might have to make a dash for safety. I've got all sorts of gadgets there that will help us."
"I get the feeling you've done this sort of thing a lot."
"Yes, and usually solo, so keep out of my hair."
"You got it, Grace."
Sam grinned to himself as he followed Grace.
Sam watched as Grace disappeared down into the blackness of her room. Sam managed to get his feet around just like she had and carefully dropped a couple of feet onto a hard cold surface. He bumped against Grace, something hard and metallic then, suddenly, he was getting wet through. He spluttered, his mouth filling with warm water.
"You could have told me that the exit was by the shower!"
"Do you mean to tell me that you don't need a shower after all that dust?" Sam was trying to ignore how wonderful Grace felt in his arms.
"I...I don't make a habit of getting in the shower in the pitch black with a woman and wearing towels!"
He felt himself blushing in the darkness.
"Sam, you're a treasure!"
Their lips met by sheer instinct and luck as he tried to regain his poise. Sam indulged himself for a few seconds, tasting how sweet and eager her lips were under his, but the sensations of holding her wet body close to his were getting far too stimulating.
"Whoa...." he urged, pulling away, "We'll get distracted from dealing with those nozzles and the chairman of the board."
Grace stepped out of the shower and touched his hand apologetically.
"I'm sorry....it happened by accident; not that I'm complaining. I'll let you get on with things alone. I've got some clean towels...here, I'll put on the light."
Sam blinked as he saw how the water had moulded Grace's toga to her body.
'Oh, boy! She really is perfection. I have got problems now.'
Grace was looking at him and beginning to blush.
"I...er, let me know when you're all wrapped up again and I'll go and...um...find you something suitable to wear."
She left, looking somewhat flustered. Sam was privately pleased to find that she was, if possible, even more embarrassed than he was. At least the one towel he still had covered enough to matter. He discarded it once she was gone and got on with cleaning off the dust.
Grace kindly provided him with a fairly anonymous grey tracksuit and a T-shirt. She called out to him from the other room as she left them by the bathroom door.
"Sorry I can't help with the underwear, Sam."
Sam's lips twitched as he wondered what her reaction would be if he told her he had worn women's underwear before...but not quite under these circumstances.
"At least you had some pants. I don't think I'd fit into one of your skirts."
He heard her chuckle as he pulled on the tracksuit top.
'That's a lovely laugh. I guess we need some humor to face what's ahead.'
"Well, I'm not wearing a skirt either. It's far too impractical tonight." Sam let Grace into the bathroom and inspected the things she had laid out on the low table in front of the couch.
'A new length of climbing rope, two pen-knives, two flashlights, some wire and wire cutters.... That's a good start.'
Sam's appreciation of her skills rose several notches. He saw two cans of soft drink near the bed and opened one. Al finally showed up again.
"Sorry that I couldn't make it before. This anomaly you've caused is putting Ziggy on the fritz. The gunmen weren't meant to attack tonight, somehow your presence is affecting time directly."
"What about Grace?"
"Ziggy's one certainty is that you've got to stick to her like glue if you want to get out of here. Ziggy says that Grace knows what she's doing."
"She certainly seems to. The only thing we're lacking is a couple of guns and some ammo."
Al punched the Handlink again.
"Well, she's a real mystery lady, Sam. She's been working here for a year...three years ago a woman answering to her description came out of China, having apparently been trained in martial arts."
"She said she was a sensei."
"Yes, well, I'd believe her. Before that, it gets really hazy. This woman is like a female James Bond. I wonder if she appreciates men the same way he appreciates the girls?"
"Al."
"Come on, Sam. You can't say the thought hasn't crossed your mind...."
"I'm meant to be defeating terrorists, not seducing women."
"Well, I would say, 'Why not a little bit of both?', but you'd give me one of those looks again.....yes, you're doing it right now. By the way, I checked on Jenny. She's all in one piece. It turns out the terrorists tied her up with the one man in the firm that she's been secretly in love with for ages. He's been feeling the same way about her and when I found her with him in the conference room stationery cupboard....well, let's say they were busy filling everything out in triplicate. They knew exactly what to give each other for Christmas."
"Al, you watched?"
"Only for a minute or two, just to check that she was willing. Believe me, she was more than willing."
"That'll do Al."
Al shrugged, then turned to Sam.
"It's the eighties, Sam. People are enjoying full and active sex lives."
"You know perfectly well that I have to care deeply about a woman before we make love. I'm not a rabbit, unlike some people I know."
Al flinched.
"Yes, well; for your information, I cared about each and every one...even the ones where it would have seemed to the casual observer that it was purely physical."
Sam looked at the carpet.
"I'm sorry, Al. I'm more than a little concerned that I may have to face death in the next few hours or so. I did hope that I might come home one day."
'And you hit a sore spot. I'm drawn to Grace so strongly that I have been thinking about it....for the first time in ages.'
"Apology accepted. Truce?"
Sam smiled slowly, "Yes. Truce."
Sam toasted Al with his drink.
By the time he had finished the can, Grace was out and dressed. She was wearing a dark blue tracksuit similar to Sam's.
"I'm sorry I haven't got my gun. It's in my holster down at reception. You can't really hide a gun under a toga."
Sam smiled.
"No, I guess you can't. You'd be all right with a knife, though. Remember Julius Caesar?"
"Yes, but that would have looked suspicious at tonight's party. Everyone was meant to be there to enjoy themselves, not assassinate each other."
"What do you suggest? Go for the terrorists or something else?"
Al looked at Sam.
"Well, when I left the chairman a couple of minutes ago, he was happily asleep in his bed next to his lady-love. The nozzles haven't got to him yet."
Sam turned to Grace.
"I say we risk doing a little damage on our way up to the penthouse." Grace nodded and stood up. She took a deep breath.
"Okay, Sam. Let's go."
Grace peered out of her door, then motioned Sam to follow. They made for the stairwell. Al checked it was safe, then Sam cautiously pushed open the door. Half a flight down was a sprinkler. Grace produced a lighter from her pocket and quietly crept down the stairs to set it off. The sprinkler near Sam went off too, as did a couple of others. Sam deliberately set off the powder fire extinguisher and they started up the plush staircase, Al drifting ahead to see that the coast was clear. They carried on setting off the sprinklers as they went until the damp got to the lighter and they had to give up after a couple of flights. Al checked the doors to the landing.
"Hey, there's a couple of the bad guys through here. They're coming this way."
Sam flattened himself against the wall and Grace did the same.
'This is almost enjoyable. It must be the adrenaline.'
The gunmen came through the door and both Sam and Grace pounced. Sam was too busy to see how Grace was getting on, but the two men were certainly taken by surprise and were soon trussed up and unconscious. Grace's mouth twitched into a smile.
"Good work, Sam. Two down and six to go."
"At least we've got some weapons now."
Grace used the but of her pistol to set off the fire alarm. Sam winced as the loud siren filled the air.
"C'mon. It's a race against time now."
Sam nodded as he followed her up the stairs at a run, taking them two at a time, but trying to make as little sound as possible. Sam appreciated the feline energy in Grace's legs as she ran ahead of him. She slowed down carefully as they reached the top and paused briefly to catch her breath. A faint glazing of perspiration caught the ends of her hair next to her face and her colour had risen slightly. She smiled at Sam again.
"Glad to see you could keep up. Now for the tricky part."
Sam put his hand on hers, feeling her pulse as he did so. It was already slowing.
"I'm impressed," he told her, "You really are fit."
Grace's smile was almost radiant. Sam ignored Al and kissed her briefly on the lips.
"Take care."
"And you, Sam," she pulled him deliberately back towards her, "Just in case one of us doesn't make it..."
Her lips were both soft and firm at the same time. Sam closed his eyes and surrendered, giving everything into the kiss. When he finally and reluctantly pulled away, his head was spinning and his mouth had been completely seduced by the sweetness of her response. Grace touched his chin gently.
"And you are some kisser, Sam. You take care as well."
She slipped through the door.
"Wow!" Al commented,"I haven't seen you that abandoned in ages."
Sam gave Al one of his admonishing glances.
"Yes, but we have to concentrate now. Go and scout out the land for us. I want us both to get through this in one piece."
Al duly disappeared, but there was a significant gleam in his eyes.
Sam crept into the room and flattened himself on the floor in the small entrance room. Ahead lay three doors and beyond the middle one, sounds of an intense struggle. Grace gestured to her right and Sam followed into the en-suite bathroom. It was a lavish affair, decked out in champagne porcelain and gold and complete with both shower and a huge sunken bath. The carpet was thick, fluffy and pale gold. Al's eyes gleamed.
"I remember spending a lot of time in a bathroom like this with Maxine. We used to get in the bath every night and...."
Sam glared at Al.
"Stop it, Al," he muttered.
"Aw, Sam. Even you must have tried it once..."
Sam decided to favour Al with his best poker face. He turned to Grace.
"What do we do now?"
Al's face told Sam that he could think of a few things, but Sam ignored him.
"Well, in the door across the hall, there's the electrical controls for this suite. I need to you to stand guard while I examine it."
"Okay."
Grace opened the door again with extreme caution, but the hall was clear.
Sam carefully positioned himself so that he could tackle someone from either direction. Al watched as Grace opened the junction box and started to undo the casing. She glanced inside, put in her hand and threw the main switch and several others. Thick darkness descended instantly. Sam let Grace out beside him as the door they hadn't tried burst open. Bullets rang out in the darkness from both Sam and Grace and the assailant. Sam heard the thud as the first gunman hit the floor, then his hands were full taking care of the next person. Sam wrestled the body to the ground, with Al trying to see what was happening and shouting words of encouragement. The assailant kicked, punched and fought well, then tried to strangle Sam. Sam used his legs and arms to go into a backward roll, sending the other person flying into something hard with a thud.
"You got him, Sam! He's out cold against the wall."
More shots rang out and Sam kept low, crawling along the floor. The air was thick with tension. Sam strained his ears, listening for Grace and the other men. He heard more shots and fighting some way ahead. Sam continued along the floor and tripped someone up, who immediately fell on him and pinned him to the floor. He felt a gun at his temple and went limp deliberately. He tried to pray, then the gun was pulled violently away. Sam realised that Grace was coming to the rescue. He could recognise her breathing as she helped him.
Sam felt something warm and sticky on his hands and realised it was blood. He couldn't tell whether it was his, Grace's or the assailant's. Grace touched him briefly on the shoulder, then they were off again. All the gunmen seemed to have silencers, but the thud when they went off was still considerable. Sam's fingers encountered a wall.
"Right, Sam. The master bedroom's to the right."
Sam felt his way along the wall, trying to make out anything at all in the darkness. There came another couple of shots, then an almighty crash from a window breaking. An instant later, Sam was covered in fine shards of glass, the air was freezing cold and the curtains were ripped away as someone struggled in them in front of Sam.
Sam gingerly picked himself off the carpet and carefully stood to his feet, dislodging the glass as he did so. He could feel several places where the glass had nicked his skin, but he was grateful that it hadn't been anything worse. The wind outside was keen as Sam regained his bearings. Distant lights combined with moonlight were making things much easier to see. Suddenly a man in black, complete with ski-mask came in through the window. Sam put up his hands.
"I'm with INTERPOL," he said quickly.
A flashlight was shone in his face, making him wince.
"Alright. Stand aside and let us finish up the job."
Sam watched as several more similar men came in and soon the chairman was liberated and the other gun-men rounded up. Al consulted his Handlink.
"Ah, S.A.S. Some of the best. The chairman and his lovely lady are all right and these nozzles get sent down for a good long time."
Sam looked around the room, then realised that Grace had been pinned under the curtain with one of the gunmen. He moved forward, pulled off the rich burgundy velvet and encountered a dead body.
"Oh, no. Not Grace, please..."
As Sam rolled the body over, he saw it was the gunman. Grace lay underneath, pale in the moonlight. Blood covered her tracksuit top. She moaned faintly. Sam knelt at her side.
"It's okay, Grace. We did it. The S.A.S. are here now."
Her eyelids fluttered open and she winced. When she saw Sam, her lips curved into a beautiful smile.
"You were brilliant. The best partner I ever had. Thank-you for treating me like a lady."
Al crouched beside Sam, his face full of concern, then Grace looked right at him, "And you are unbelievably naughty, Al. Just you wait..."
"How do you know my name?"
Grace smiled enigmatically.
"One of the tricks of the trade," she looked back at Sam, "You're not the only one any more, Sam. There are at least five Leapers doing good in the world, but you're the best. The very best. And I've known about you and waited to meet you since I was 18."
Sam glanced back at Al in shock, the question already beginning to frame itself on his lips, but Al simply opened his mouth in surprise, then vanished into thin air. No door; just vanished. Sam turned back to Grace just in time to see the blue-silver of a leap envelope her.
"Au revoir, Sam."
She vanished, leaving nothing behind. Sam sat down on the carpet heavily in a state of shock and touched the place where her body had just been. The shock was compounded by the pain of losing her so soon.
"Ohhh, BOY!"