Message-ID: Date: Sat, 25 Jul 1998 14:43:27 +0100 From: Heather Markham Subject: alternus-tempus.p03 CHAPTER THREE Sam made good time getting to the saloon. The atmosphere inside was warm and smoky. The place was dimly lit by large hanging globe lanterns. The area surrounding the bar was bathed in red and green coloured twinkling lights. The walls were adorned with framed prints of old sailing ships. It was a busy place, some people sat, talking and drinking, in the dark leather bench seats edging the room, others sat conversationally around the small circular tables which occupied the rest of the space. Finding himself an empty stool at the bar counter, Sam sat down, half turned to keep an eye on the saloon's swing doors. His eyes searched from table to table, from one face to another, looking for Dana and the man with whom she was supposed to be here. There was no sign of them, he must have arrived before them. Turning back to the counter he tried to attract the attention of the busy bartender. He wasn't intending to drink too much but his friend's sudden appearance back at the apartment had distracted him from the sandwich and the cup of coffee. Thinking back, he couldn't remember the last time liquid of any kind had passed his lips and now his thirst was raging. At last he caught the barman's eye and called over for a cold, light beer. Picking up the pint glass, he hesitated, what events would happen next, would he get to talk to Dana, what should he say to her? He looked deep into the sparkling amber-tinted liquid as if it were some strange prophetic crystal ball. As the tiny bubbles danced their way up to form a foaming head on the drink, he tried to imagine the future, a future perpetuated by one past foolish action, a future of total uncertainty....on his own....and without Dana. Maybe Al had been right all along, perhaps he should never have let his emotions get the better of him, he shouldn't have allowed himself to fall in love with her. If he hadn't fallen for her, he wouldn't be suffering the painful heartache he now felt. He sighed, a long drawn out sigh of regret, it was too late, things had happened the way they had and although he was a time-traveller he couldn't change his own destiny, he couldn't turn back and reset the hands on the clock of his own life. He remembered everything about her so strongly, every tiny aspect of her personality, her face and her body, perhaps he would remember her for the rest of eternity. Sam licked his dry lips and downed the contents of the glass. The icy cold beer hit his empty stomach with a sharp, painful jolt. Grimacing he rubbed a flat palm at his abdomen. Screwing up his eyes in painful reflex he realized he should have eaten something whilst he'd had the chance. He scanned the bar for signs of a menu. A sign hung on the wall behind the counter advertising snacks and meals but it also informed him that food wasn't served after nine o'clock. Laying a couple of Pendrell's hard earned dollar notes on the counter, he called over to the bartender to bring him a double scotch, that, he thought, would take the edge off the sharpness of the cold drink. It might also give him a little extra 'Dutch Courage', after all, very soon, he could be facing a difficult and dangerous situation....maybe, even death! The scotch was placed before him along with a small pile of change. He picked up the small tumbler, turned it around and around between his hands warming it, then swigged half of it with a quick gulp. The harsh spirit stung his throat but made his stomach feel better. Swiveling on the stool, he turned to watch the door once more. Impatience squeezing his diaphragm and causing him to breath rapidly. It was nine-forty-five, where was she? How long had he to wait? Cursing silently under his breath, he whispered to himself, "Where the hell are you Al, I need to know how long I've got. I need to work out what I'm going to do." The man standing next to him frowned, looked him up and down and edged further along the bar. He glanced back at the man, nodded his head, raised his glass in an attitude of cheers, smiled sweetly and downed the remainder of the scotch. An alcoholic glow slowly began to spread throughout his body. The pleasant warm sensation released more memories of the night he'd spent with Dana. Shaking his head again, he desperately tried to rid himself of the thoughts, he needed to pull himself together if he was to change things tonight. But the feeling and emotions the alcohol had induced dogged him. With little choice but to succumb to them, he closed his eyes, another surge of memories and feelings filled his mind and coursed through his body and soul. He could hardly wait to see her again, he felt like a kid at Christmas Eve. The fact that he was here on business and she would be here on business of another kind was fast fading from his mind in a fuzzy haze. Someone bumped against him, his eyes flew open, reality hitting him, he was supposed to be watching for her. Quickly, he scanned the room again...still no signs of her, he eased his tightly hunched shoulders down. The reality of it was, that he'd probably only get to see her for a few minutes, he'd probably say two words to her, he'd do something to alter history and time would leap him away again. Those thoughts led him to start thinking about talking to his family. He'd had the chance to call his mom and his sister during his last leap.....only he'd decided to wait until he'd gone through the retrieval process and had leaped home for good. He had chosen to wait so that he could call and then go visit. That....everything, had been cruelly snatched away from him. Time, fate, God, whatever, had chosen once more to rob him of the life he wanted back. He swallowed hard in an effort to rid himself of the lump in his throat, it didn't work. He turned back to the barman, ordered another double scotch and slowly sipped at it. The bartender came over to him and set down tw drinks, the scotch and a tall cocktail glass full of frothing thick red liquid, he pointed over to a man dressed in a dark suit standing across at the corner of the bar. "Guy over there, sent this over for you. He said to say thanks for the help." Sam looked at the glass picked it up, intrigued at it's contents and even more intrigued by the message. He guessed it must have something to do with Pendrell's job. Looking over at the man, he nodded and raised the glass in thanks. The other man raised his own glass in acknowledgment, then moved away from the bar to mingle with the crowd of late night drinkers. The barman was standing near him, buffing a wine glass, he looked casually over, "It's called a velvet glove. The trick is to down it in one go." Sam frowned, inspected the drink once more, shrugged then tipped the liquid down his throat and spluttered, it was just about the strongest, foulest tasting drink he'd ever had the misfortune to taste. He quickly wiped the remains of the liquid from his mouth and chased it with the scotch, in the hope of replacing one taste with the other. It worked but his stomach gurgled in disapproval. Sam wasn't used to imbibing that much alcohol, especially on an empty stomach and in such a short space of time. He wasn't drunk yet though, he was sure of that! He wouldn't allow himself to get drunk tonight, tonight he had an important job to do and he didn't want to act the fool around Dana either. The couple of drinks he'd had already, couldn't possibly make him more than just an itsy little bit tipsy....could it? Nah...no...definitely not...after all he was still in full command of his flaculties... er...flac...fac..ulties! Drunkenness wasn't a feeling the scientist particularly enjoyed. He didn't like being out of control of his mind or body. Spirits, however, did sometimes serve a purpose, they eased painful memories and carried them in soft fluffy white clouds of thought. Spirits, he thought to himself, sometimes raised his spirits. He turned back to the bar, giggling at his own lame joke as he scooped up the small pile of loose change and stuffed it into his outside jacket pocket. His fingers released the coins and closed on a small flat package. He drew out the mystery object and inspected it, it was a small package covered in brightly coloured birthday wrapping paper, the red coloured ribbon securing it was tied with a tiny bow. A small heart shaped name tag bore the words, With affection D.P. The quantum physicist's normally quick brain was slightly fuddled and was acting slower than usual. He stared at it, the cogs of his mind turned and finally found the right slot. Of course, that's what had struck him about the date...yesterday was the twenty-third of February....it had been Dana's birthday! The gift was a present from Pendrell to Dana! Another cog of thought slipped into place. 'Oh my God..Dana is the mystery woman the other guys were teasing me about earlier this evening. Well, well, well.....Pendrell has a crush on Dana Scully. He probably meant to give her the gift at the party last night but, for some reason, he hadn't been able to get there.' Continuing to gaze at the small present, he thought how ironic the situation was, he loved Dana and it seemed that Pendrell might feel the same way about her and neither of them stood a cold chance in Hell of ending up with her. A hand suddenly clamped his shoulder from behind. In his ever so slightly befuddled state, the time-traveller half expected it to be his faithful observer, his life long pal. He looked up into the grinning face of Barnes, accompanied by three other young men, two of whom he recognised from the lab room back at the headquarters. One of them spoke to Barnes, "Frank, what say we all go on to the Pink Panther Club". The man grinned and nodded, then turned his attention back to Sam, "What are you doing hiding way over here, why didn't you come over and join me and the boys at our usual table? Say, you wanna come with us? It'd be better entertainment than this damn place." Sam, shrugged, "Sorry, Frank, I'm..er....waiting for someone." "I hope you're not waiting for who I think you're waiting for. 'Cos you could be in for a long wait, Danny boy, I've heard she's outa town." He called over to one of the other guys, "Scully's not around, is she?" A voice answered, "Last I heard she went off to investigate that air crash with Mulder." Sam's expression changed, his heart missed a beat, "No...that can't be, she's supposed to be here.....she's got to be here...I've got something for her." Frank winked at the other men, "Hey, someone buy this poor guy a good stiff drink...he's got it bad." "Nn..no, I'm..I'm alright here, really, I don't need another drink." Sam replied shaking his head. Frank turned back to him, ignoring his refusal, "Look, you're never gonna get anywhere with her, she and Mulder are joined at the hip. My advice is, forget about her, least ways for tonight. Come and have some fun....you might meet some other gorgeous babe, 'course she may not have the same amount of brains as Scully but what the heck...you can't have everything, come on, live a little." The ordered drinks arrived on the counter in front of Sam. Whoever had ordered them had done him the favour of getting him another double scotch. "We're just gonna have these last couple of beers and then we're going.....come on! Come with us.....the night is young and so are we." He leaned forward and gave a very Albert Calavicci-type leer, "There are girls out there just waiting to meet great guys like us!" Sam took the glass of scotch and stared into it. What the hell, it'd be a waste of a good drink to just leave it untouched. Waving a hand at his fellow colleagues he replied blearily, "No...no, really, I'm not in the mood now. You guys go on and enjoy yourself. I'm gonna wait here for a while more. I'm kinda hoping she'll turn up later. if she doesn't, well, then I think I'll turn in. I'll....er..I'll see you guys tomorrow." "Well... we hate to leave you here...don't we guys? But okay, if you're absolutely sure....if you change your mind you know where we'll be." Sam downed the drink and nodded fervently, "Yeah, yeah....I'll see you guys tomorrow." The group of FBI workers sat their empty glasses back on the drink-sodden counter next to his, laughing and joking they made their way out of the saloon bar leaving Sam to himself. Back at the Project Centre, the bugs in the system were still causing problems. The Imaging Chamber had temporarily become unstable. Gushie, Bettenhoff and the other technicians had been frantically trying to right the problems. The hand-link was inoperable and the back-up was likely to fuse at any second. As if that wasn't enough of a problem, Ziggy, who had been monitoring Sam for the last hour, had drawn Al and Verbena Beeck's attention to the fact that there was a marked change in Doctor Beckett's brain wave patterns, they were rapidly pulsing between beta and alpha states. Al was becoming increasingly worried, he'd spoken to Pendrell in the Waiting Room, Pendrell had been a real pleasure to deal with, unlike Mulder, but hadn't been of any real use. The Navy man made good use of his enforced stay, he'd had Ziggy locate and access the classified details of Pendrell's death, It was still unclear as to when it all happened but they did know something, at the time the young forensics expert had been wounded, he had been drunk! Finally, the Imaging Chamber was ready enough for holographic transference. Al's image wavered in and out in front of an ever so slightly drunken Samuel Beckett. He passed a hand through the intermittent wavering space, shook his head and blinked. Gushie gave the holographic enhancer a boost of power and the observer's image finally settled into a static shape. Sam raised himself from the bar stool and took an unstable step forward and grinned stupidly at his friend, "Hellooo there, best buddy, my little partner in time," he giggled involuntarily at the pun and clamped a hand over his own mouth. Al frowned, then scowled. "What the hell...Sam, you're drunk! What the hell do you think you're playing at. Goddammit, how ya gonna do what you're supposed to do with pickled brains! Aw..kid, why did ya have to go and get drunk? This is not the time or the place and this is definitely not like you, not like you at all. Jeez-Louise, I would'a thought tonight of all nights, you'd want to keep your wits about you. What's Dana gonna think when she sees you like this, what are you gonna say to her?" Sam grinned apologetically, turned and tried to put a foot up on the bar foot-rail, misjudging things, his foot slipped, he grabbed at the counter and just managed to save himself from toppling sideways. Al, momentarily closed his eyes, cast his face to the ceiling and muttered something to himself. Sam fixed Al with a fuzzy stare, "I'm drunk? Yeah..well, a little tipsy maybe but no, not drunk." Al looked him up and down, "Sam you're more than tipsy, you can't even stand up straight. Just how much have you had, anyway?" Sam flopped back onto the stool, counting off the number of drinks on his fingers, "Just a couple'a scotches and a beer." "How many scotches?" enquired his friend. "One light beer and three...four doubles, oh yeah and one o' those tall red fizzy cocktaily things." "Sam, that's way too much for you on an empty stomach. You know what scotch does to you. That drink always sends your brains straight down to your boots. Sheesh....the one thing you shoulda' remembered, you had to go and forget. Look kid, I know things aren't exactly the way you want them to be but ya didn't have to do this to yourself." Sam's expression changed from the lopsided tipsy grin of a moment before. He gazed at Al with cold hard eyes, a note of harsh sarcasm biting in his words, "What could possibly be so wrong that I'd want to blank it out with liquour. I'm on top of the world Al, hadn't you noticed? I haven't seen my folks in two years, I can never have a relationship with anyone 'cos I'm not seen for myself and I'm never around anywhere long enough to have one, anyway. Finally, when I do find someone...someone special, who can love me for myself, see me as myself, fate snatches it all away and changes everything." The coldness in his eyes turned to sorrow, "Al, she told me that whatever happened we'd always have that night to remember....and God do I remember but she doesn't! For her it never happened, never will happen. I love her so much it's tearing me apart and she doesn't even know I exist. How do you think that makes me feel? It hurts," Sam thumped at his chest and turned away, "it hurts deep inside here. For just a little while all the memories had floated away, why did you have to go and remind me!" The words brought a lump to Al's throat, he had so much sympathy for his friend but when Sam acted like this, it never failed to get to him. He wanted to grab hold of him and shake him out of it, "Get a hold of yourself, Sam! Sam....now you listen to me, dammit, this is exactly what happened the first time around, Pendrell got drunk, probably for similar reasons, probably feeling sorry for himself, too, then he got shot. If you're not careful the same things going to happen to you." "No, you've got it all wrong....you and Ziggy are both wrong this time.....who gave her that stupid name anyway?...I've been thinking while you've been gone, I'm not here to get shot, I'm just here to give Dana a birthday present, that's all, just a simple little task, no guns, no big bangs, no big drama. I'm here to give her a present and ask her out on a date, that's all!" A broad grin had returned to his face, The man sitting at the next stool gave him a dirty look. Al motioned Sam to keep his voice down. His friend responded by placing a finger to his lips and shushing conspiratorially. Al was dumbfounded by his friend's behaviour, he turned away in exasperation. How could he get through to his friend while he was in that state. But Sam had a point, perhaps the simple task of giving Dana the birthday present would be enough to change things, maybe Ziggy was wrong. Perhaps the simple act of presenting Dana with a gift would be enough to change things. He tapped at the hand-link and questioned the hybrid super computer, hoping Sam was right. His heart sank, the odds were now eighty per cent that Sam was going to end up getting himself killed, just like Pendrell. He looked up and opened his mouth to speak and suddenly spotted Dana coming through the door with the guy from the Air Force, Frisch. He pushed more buttons and centred himself in front of Sam, from Sam's point of view, Al's head and shoulders were sticking up through the bar counter. His friend was frantically trying to get him to turn around. "Get a hold of yourself now! This is it, kid, here she comes now!" Sam laughed and swung round to see Dana and the other man walk up to an empty table. The man seated himself, Dana headed on towards the bar and him. His heart leaped and his pulse rate doubled, at last she was here, now all he had to do was get her to talk to him and give her the gift. In an inebriated state, the usually brilliant mind of the scientist groped for the right words to say, his mind fought to remember dialogue he'd carefully and repeatedly rehearsed just before Al had turned up. The words swam indistinctly around his mind. He turned towards Dana Scully, to his horror, his mouth took over from his brain, "Hey! Birthday girl!" Al was aghast, his mouth dropped open, he stared at Sam in utter disbelief. He shook his head, trying desperately to prompt his friend with something sensible to say. His friend, however, was off on a planet of his own. Scully stared at the swaying figure of Pendrell and tried to edge away. She had always had a soft spot for the young man but this was neither the time nor the place to become involved in drunken discourse, she was here on a matter of important business. She glanced around at the other drinkers, across to Sergeant Frisch and back to Sam, replying, "Agent Pendrell....how are you doing?" He grinned at her in response and searched for the gift. Panic rose within him, where the hell had he put it? He had to stall her, he had to keep her talking long enough to find the darned present, "Don't go...I...er..I've been waiting for you. I have something for you.....where've you been?" Dana smiled weakly, replying as she edged away, "I've been...erm, gone!?" The fact that Al had been shouting in his ear for the last couple of minutes wasn't helping him to think any clearer. The helpful suggestions were merely serving as an unwanted distraction. Giving up on the futile search for the missing gift, he moved towards Dana, he couldn't let her go yet, he had to fulfill his mission. "Can I buy you a drink?" Scully turned to indicate Frisch. "No, it's alright, I'm with someone." Sam's brain registered the fact that he should have known that, giggling he replied, "Okay, let me buy him a drink too." "No, no really, it's okay...really. I'm kinda busy right now." Scully didn't have the time to waste, Frisch was looking towards her with a worried look on his face. Sam swayed and turned back to the bar, "Bartender...set me up with a couple of Birthday girl drinks here." Al was following his friend's every move. He couldn't believe the way his normally level-headed friend was handling the situation. He'd been trying to give him instructions from the moment Dana had turned up but Sam didn't appear to hear him, either that or he just didn't want to hear what he had to say. He'd never seen Sam behave quite in this way before. Oh he'd seen Sam drunk before he'd even gotten drunk along side him on one occasion, but tonight was different, tonight Sam was acting real strange. The doors to the bar swung open, Al watched as a dark swarthy man edged into the bar, the man's dark eyes searched the room for Frisch. For Albert Calavicci time slowed down, it seemed as if the world had entered a different dimension. He watched with helpless horror as the man drew out a gun. Sam had picked up the drinks and was walking towards Dana and Frisch. Dana turned, saw the man, drew out her own weapon and threw herself towards Frisch. Al gained control of his motor functions, forgetting in the heat of the moment that he was a hologram, he tried to shove his friend out of the way, only to find himself falling awkwardly through his friend. Scrambling back to his feet he screamed a warning, desperately hoping the words would get through Sam's drunken skull, "SAM! LOOK OUT! GET OUTA THE WAY, SAM!" The words caught their intended target, the tipsy physicist turned unsteadily and caught sight of the armed man, the tray of drinks slid from his grasp, he shot out a protective arm towards Dana and launched himself across the table in an effort to shield her. Al stared at the unfolding scene. The gunman levelled his arm and squeezed the trigger. Noise filled the air and echoed around Al's head, he could almost see the bullet travel towards his best friend. Suddenly, time righted itself, everything happened at once. Sam reeled backwards, pulling the table along with him and hit the floor in a shower of broken glass and spilled beer. Scully returned fire and shot at the gunman wounding him in the leg. There were screams and shouts, the happy atmosphere of a few minutes earlier changed to one of confused panic. Al rushed over to kneel beside his injured friend. Sam lay on the floor clutching at his bleeding chest. Blood was seeping from the wound soaking into his shirt and dribbling onto the floor. Shock and alcohol combined to befuddle his brain. An expression of bewilderment mingled with a look of pain, he coughed, each breath harsh and agonizing, "A..Aaal...what's happening...I wasn't supposed to get shot. This wasn't meant to happen. I...I was so sure....." He closed his eyes and groaned, pain surged through his chest, a dull fog filled his mind, "Oh God..I..I didn't give her the gift, I didn't change anything....I...I failed....I'm soooo stupid.....I..." Al's face had gone deathly pale, "Don't talk kid, save your energy. You did just fine, you're gonna be okay, you ain't dead yet and you're not gonna be either....you changed history Sam....Just lay there still and let Dana look at your wound." Scully had reached Sam, she was beside him on the floor, pulling open his shirt. Someone handed her a rolled bar towel, she inspected the injury and pressed the towel hard against the wound, "It's okay, Pendrell, you hear me, it's okay. We still haven't celebrated my birthday. I'm not going to let you off the hook that easily. Don't worry about the silly gift, you can give it to me later.......I'm going to hold you to that." Sam's body shook, his eyes rolled back. Scully wriggled out of her overcoat, balled it into a pillow and gently placed it beneath his head. "Listen...Pendrell! You're going to be okay....just hold on!" She called over to the barman, "Phone for an ambulance. Someone look after him, keep that pad on his chest. I'll be back in a moment." Al watched in horror as she dashed off in pursuit of the wounded gunman. He yelled after her, "Hey, you can't just leave him like that, I thought you cared?! Come back, damn it!" He turned and cast a glare at the onlookers who'd gathered in a circle around his friend. He was on his feet and shouting, "Well, watcha' waiting for, do as the lady said......call an ambulance, help him, come on...do somethin." To his annoyance and rage the words echoed flatly around him. No one but Sam could hear him. Sam gasped suddenly, his body convulsed, then went limp. His breath gurgled in his throat. Al threw himself back down beside his injured friend, His face was crumpled into tight lines of worry, "Sam! Sam? Saam ya gotta wake up, don't you black out on me now kid.....come on, come on....don't you do this to me again." He looked up and around the saloon room, "Where the hell is she? Someone do somethin'!" he yelled. The doors burst open, Scully pushed through the gathering of shocked spectators, and knelt back beside the injured body of Pendrell. Al could see the sudden look of concern in her face as she opened his closed eyes then searched for Sam's pulse. Tipping his head back over her knee, she pinched his nose, covered his mouth with her own and gave him three short puffs of her air. Nothing....she interlocked her fingers, one hand over the other and began pumping his heart back into rhythm. Stopping briefly to check for vital life signs she expertly re-applied the actions..... still nothing. Al was whispering words of encouragement to his friend and willing him to live, with all his energy. Three more puffs of oxygen. Sam drifted back to consciousness, his eyes flickered, he peeked them open. Dana's face filled his vision, his head was cradled in her lap, her mouth was on his, her lips over his, her breath in his lungs. Feeling the rise of his chest and the twitch of his muscles she began to draw away from him. The pain had subsided a little but his mind was still clouded by alcohol, he couldn't help himself, as she began to draw away, he raised his head and moved with her turning the act of resuscitation into a kiss. For a fleeting moment she responded to the kiss, then in embarrassment, broke away, a look of confusion and puzzlement in her eyes. She excused the behaviour and smiled at him gently, "It's okay...I think you're going to be fine now. The paramedics are on their way." Al had been staring closely at the scene, he raised his eyebrows, scratched at the back of his head in bemused exasperation, "You sly dog! Don't you ever put me through that again just to get a kiss....otherwise I'm the one whose gonna end up in an early grave!" Sam smiled weakly then winked surreptitiously at his friend and whispered hoarsely, "Just making the most of the situation." Dana glanced down at him, "What was that?" Sam coughed, "I just said thanks, you saved my life." He tried to move but the action brought a wave of dizziness. The room swam, the ceiling above him twirled. He shut his eyes and groaned, not only had he to deal with the pain of being shot but now it seemed he had to cope with a fast approaching hangover. Dana gathered him into her arms and continued to press the pad to his wound. Al bent closer to check he was okay, "Sam?..Saaam, you okay kid? You may as well wake up, 'cos you won't get away with that a second time." The still slightly tipsy quantum physicist opened one eye carefully, the ceiling was still spinning but not quite so fast. Slowly opening the other, he looked at his friend then back to Dana and said quietly, "You told me fibs, I died...I must be dead, 'cos I'm in heaven right now." Dana's gentle smile broke into a grin and she laughed. She couldn't see the relief showing on Al's face nor could she hear him but he sat on the floor and curled with laughter. There was a sudden bustle of noise, the police arrived accompanied by the ambulance team. The paramedics quickly took over from Scully, loaded Sam onto a stretcher and carried him off to the waiting ambulance, Al joined him on board. Scully stayed to talk with the police, she stood and watched as the vehicle noisily headed off into the darkness towards the Hospital. She had a strange feeling about Pendrell, she didn't know what it was but she felt there was definitely more to the young man than she'd ever imagined. -- Heather Markham