Date: Wed, 20 Mar 1996 12:21:37 -0800 (PST) From: Rei Nakazawa Subject: "Leap Year" Part 1 Message-Id: Michelle Wharton blinked, startled. One minute she had been in dancing with her boyfriend, the next... Her present surroundings were cramped, a small room, the dim lights tinted red. It was hexagonal in shape, with no furnishings to speak of. And the walls... It was then she screamed. The walls were red tinted mirrors, and the reflection in it was not her, but an older woman, beautiful in a fashion, with long curled black hair and intense brown eyes. The reflection opened its mouth and screamed with her. Her eyes darted about, desperate for escape. It found a circular door set into one of the walls. She ran towards it, almost into it, and began pounding desperately, in sheer panic. "Help! Oh God, somebody, help me!!!" She didn't notice a large sphere, crackling with energy, silently lower from an opened panel in the ceiling. She did notice when it discharged a bolt of electricity into her. Her breath was pushed out of her; she collapsed to the floor, almost unable to move, tears dripping down her cheeks. Her words came in labored gasps: "Wha... who are you...?" "Now, now, I happen to think names are not all that important," rumbled a deep, gravelly voice that seemed to come from everywhere, yet nowhere at the same time. "Especially since you seem to be abusing Project property, Michelle Wharton." "Wh- How did you know my name?" "But since you were nice enough to drop in," the voice chuckled evilly, "I suppose I should make some sort of introduction. My name is Lothos." The electrode drew closer to her. "And I have a few questions to ask you." Michelle gulped. "Oh boy." _Quantum Leap_ "Leap Year February 29, 1956" Chapter One "Welcome back," Lothos said dryly as Reginald Thames, nearly giving off his own light with his reflective silver suit, entered the Control Room. "It's good to be back," Thames rejoined sarcastically. But deep down, he really was glad. If he was back at work, he wasn't in the Holography Booth, getting... the treatment. It had been six months since he "lost" Alia and Zoey, and while only one of those months had been taken up in his "reprimand," the remaining five had been needed to recover from it all. Now he was back, and he swore to himself that he wasn't going to go through that again. Never. "Now that you're ready to return to work," Lothos continued, ignoring Thames' sarcasm, "I'd like to talk to you about some deficiencies I've been detecting in my secondary circuits..." "Again?" Thames asked incredulously. "We've been over this before! There is absolutely nothing wrong with you! We built and programmed you to absolute perfection!" Lothos' main output port, a huge upside-down triangle hanging above, pulsed a duller red than usual, as if in laughter. "Perfection? Only I can know of perfection, not humans." "Don't forget that you were built and programmed by us imperfect humans," Thames snapped, relieved for the old routine. "But I had to tell you how to improve me to the pinnacle I am at today. Yet I could still improve." "Well, forget it," Thames said, walking to the Control Unit set up in the middle of the room. "This job is too important to screw around with you now." He slapped his hand on one of the large panels, and a beam of red light shot out, connecting to the main output port above. "The Project Head thinks I should get what I want," Lothos said in an almost pouting tone. The mere mention of the Project Head brought chills into the usually cool Thames. He did his best to seem as if he never heard the reference and began toying with his wooden cane, as he often did when nervous. "Well, I'll be getting back to my duties now. There are a couple of new programs I've been writing that I want to test..." "Nope," Lothos said simply. "'Nope'? What's that supposed to mean?" "What that means, my dear Thames, is that you did so well with Zoey, despite your... mistakes, that you're going to be permanent Observer for Monica." Thames' eyes widened. "What??! Me, Observer? I should never have gotten that job in the first place! I'm a programmer, dammit, not a babysitter! I've got important work to do; I can't waste my time being a hologram for..." "The Project Head wants you to take this job." "Screw the Project Head!" Thames shrieked. The minute the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He looked about wildly, but fortunately, the room was devoid of people except for himself. That only left one witness, and a ruthless one at that... "You shouldn't be crossing the Project Head so soon," Lothos said mildly, "not so soon after your punishment." "So what are you going to do about it?" Thames asked, trying unsuccessfully to hide his nervousness. "You're a valuable commodity, Thames; resources such as yours are not to be wasted needlessly." _So I'm just a resource now?_ Thames thought bitterly, but he kept his mouth shut. "As thus, I'm going to keep that little outburst between ourselves," Lothos continued. "It would be a shame to lose you now that you've paid penance for your crimes." "Thank you so much for your valuable advice," Thames grumbled sarcastically. A hand link rose from the Unit before him; he grabbed it and headed towards the Projection Room. "You're welcome," Lothos answered calmly as the door closed behind Thames. "C'mon, Michelle, talk to me!" Jeff Marshall pleaded. His fellow students were already streaming into the high school building, and the bell would ring any second. Yet he hadn't gotten more than a couple of words out of his girlfriend in the past fifteen minutes. The winter air was nippy and cold, and he was tired of standing out in the elements and not getting anywhere in return. "I just don't feel like it," Monica said petulantly, trying to avoid eye contact. _Where the hell is my Observer?_ she thought irritably. She'd been having to wing it ever since she Leaped in the previous night, and having no Observer, she thought it best to cause as much damage as possible while she was there. She'd "arrived" in the middle of a date with Jeff, so that was as good a place as any to start. She smiled a little as she remembered how she humiliated him in public and left him in the middle of the restaurant, jaw dropped. Shame, though, he was a handsome devil, she had to admit that. He was a tall, muscular kid with an angelic face to die for, when it wasn't twisted in anger as it was now. She wondered why DeLuce had stopped being her hologram; she may not have been experienced at it, but she was damn efficient. "Why not? Why won't you talk to me? Why can't you give me an explanation for last night??!" He nearly shouted, his frustration growing. It was only with supreme effort (and seeing all the stares he was getting) that he calmed down. "Why are you giving me the cold shoulder like this?" "I am not giving you the cold shoulder, Jeff," she snapped, pretending to lose patience. "I just don't feel like talking today, that's all." Something about her anger softened Jeff's face. "Hey, baby, I'm sorry. I guess I haven't been paying much attention to you lately. It's just with my mother dying last week, it's been kind of hard for me." "I'm sure it has," Monica answered unsympathetically. Weakness. It was something she despised in others. Like Jeff and his mewling over his loss. He obviously didn't know what real loss was. Alia was another prime example. Damn her! Traitor... If only she'd been the one to go after her, but Zoey was not to be denied. Not that Monica could blame her. Of all the people on Project Hades, Zoey was probably the most betrayed by Alia's treachery. Jeff took Monica in his arms. "I'll make it up to you. How about dinner tonight? I know this diner that serves sodas for two." He moved to kiss her, but Monica pulled out of his arms, turning away from his lips. "It's Wednesday, Jeff, remember? I've got homework to do." Jeff blinked. "That's never stopped you before." "Look, I just don't feel like doing anything tonight, okay?" "Okay, then how about I come over to your house to study. Or maybe you can come to mine. My dad will be out tonight..." He leaned over to try to kiss her again, but she stepped away. "I have a headache, Jeff, and we're going to be late for class." She started walking towards the school building, but Jeff grabbed her by the arm. "Let me go!" "Not until you tell me what's going on. What the hell is up, huh? What's wrong with you?" "There is nothing wrong with me!" Monica snapped. "Maybe there's something wrong with you. Did you ever think of that?" "There is NOTHING wrong with me!" he shouted violently, not thinking at all anymore about the stares he was getting. "It's you who's being weird! What's wrong?" Monica tried to pull away, but his grip was strong. "Jeff, you're hurting me!" "Answer me! What is it?" His face darkened dangerously. "Is it another guy? Have you been going out behind my back?" Monica finally freed herself from Jeff's grip. "No, it's not! Now why don't you..." "Michelle?" a voice asked from behind Jeff. Both turned. Damn, and I was on a roll, too! Michelle's brother Tyler was four years younger than Michelle, but even that young, Monica could tell he'd grow up to be pretty cute. Not that he wasn't now; short cropped brown hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a good build for one so young would've had Monica drooling at his feet was he not supposed to be her brother. Right now, though, she was annoyed at the interruption just as she was getting a rise out of Jeff. "What do you want, dweeb?" "I, uh, just wanted to ask you... when you'd be home tonight. I think I have basketball practice after school today." "I don't know. Tonight's the big game, right? I suppose I'll be home around four thirty." "Four thirty?" Jeff asked suspiciously. "You mean you'll be going somewhere after school." "Not necessarily," Tyler said, giving them both a funny look. "I mean, I'm sure Michelle..." "Don't try to read my mind, Tyler," Monica snapped. "You're not my keeper, you know. And neither are you, Jeff. Why can't you let me live my life?" "Don't talk to me that way!" Jeff said, half angered and half pleading. "I'm your boyfriend!" "Maybe not for long." The world seemed to stop at those words. It was as if God had pushed the "mute" button on a remote control; the silence seemed absolute. It was an interesting tableau: Jeff staring open mouthed at her, Tyler's stricken face, the stunned expressions on passers-by who obviously knew the two and never thought it would come to his. Monica couldn't resist a little grin; it was things like this that made her job worthwhile. Not to mention the occasional fringe benefits. "What does that mean?" Jeff gasped, reaching for her again. "Don't touch me!" Monica shouted, backing away as if burned. "Michelle!" Jeff begged, looking for a split second infinitely pathetic and vulnerable. "Michelle!" Tyler repeated, looking equally as desperate. "Don't do this!" "Don't tell me what to do, you little..." She stopped as she, and only she, heard the comfortingly familiar sound of the Projection Room door opening and closing. She was surprised when she saw who was standing nearby. "Thames?" "Why are you thinking about the geography exam now?" Jeff demanded. What about us?" "Thames?" Tyler asked, confused, a strange light in his eyes. "There is no 'us,'" Monica responded, distracted as she watched Thames. Why the hell was he here? He was supposed to be... "I've gotta brief you, girl," Thames said, flashing a grin. "Get alone. Now." "I have to go." She turned and began walking away. "Michelle! Please! Don't!" She ignored Jeff's cries, and was gone. "Jeff, she didn't mean it." At least, he hoped she didn't mean it. But Sam Beckett couldn't think of anything else to say at the moment. He wished he could've thought of something more comforting or convincing, but he was too stunned to say much else. He didn't think things would go so badly so fast... "She didn't, huh, Tyler?" Jeff turned towards Sam, tears in his eyes. "You heard her." He turned back towards the school as he walked, wiping away his tears. "This is all my fault. What did I do wrong?" "You didn't do anything wrong," Sam tried to assure him. "She's just..." He paused; he didn't know Michelle that well, really, having Leaped in only that morning, so he wasn't too sure what to say. Then he remembered Al's briefing when he first arrived. "Uh, she's cranky because she didn't get to go to Paris." Sam laughed, which ended up sounding forced. "We were supposed to go to France on Sunday; our parents even got us out of school. But I got sick, and Michelle stayed behind to watch me so Mom and Dad could still go." "Nice of her," Jeff sniffed. "But then I felt better this morning. She was a little mad at me for it." Sam gave a lopsided grin. When Jeff didn't reciprocate, or even react, Sam's face turned serious again. "It isn't your fault," he repeated, clapping a hand on Jeff's shoulder. Jeff pulled out of his grip violently. "Just leave me alone." He entered the building and vanished before Sam could react. "Sam, this isn't good." Sam jumped at the sound of Al Calavicci's voice. "Tell me about it," Sam sighed. Monica looked about the women's restroom; no one was around. Thames zapped in. "No one here?" he asked, sticking his head through a stall wall. "Shame." "What the hell are you doing here?" Monica demanded. "If you're asking if I'm all right now, I am. And I'm going to be your Observer for this mission." "You?" Monica asked with derision. "You couldn't even keep Zoey ali..." "You watch it, girl," Thames snarled. "I could just leave you stranded here in 1956. Or I could have Lothos..." "Cut the crap, Thames. You need me. I'd love to see what the Project Head would do to you if you lose another Leaper." The two glared at each other for a while before Thames looked back at his hand link. Al looked at his hand link in dismay. "According to Ziggy, Michelle's rejection pushes Jeff over the edge. Tonight, at the basketball game, he goes berserk, shooting three kids with a .44 Colt." He looked at Sam grimly. "Then he shoots himself." "Why, Al? Just because Michelle dumps him? Sure, she treated him badly, but..." "It's not just that, Sam. It's a lot of things that add up. His mother died last week. They were really close." Al paused, lost in his own memories of the family and friends he lost. He glanced at Sam, knowing that he was probably thinking of his own pain as well. "And an investigation into the shootings show that a couple of years ago, Jeff was hospitalized for severe depression." "Hospitalized? Was he...?" Sam shivered, remembering his own experiences with mental hospitals. If Jeff's experience had been anything like his own, no wonder he was still sick. "No, he was given some medication, got some counseling, and was released. But this blows all that progress out the window, Sam. This is one of the hardest times he'll ever have in his life; if you get him through this, he'll probably be okay." Sam slammed the locker shut, thanking Tyler for writing the combination on a slip of paper he'd found in his pocket. "I've got a feeling that the best way to get through to him is through Michelle." Al shook his head. "I don't think you're going to get much out of her. Man, she reminds me of this gal I met in San Francisco once. Perfect face, gorgeous body, but she was colder than a good beer." "I don't know, Al. Something about her makes me a little uncomfortable... "Fine, you want it that way?" Thames asked as he read the information scrolling by on his screen. "Then let's get started." "Yes," Monica said coldly. "Let's." "Anyway, your name is Michelle Wharton, you're 18, and this is Theodore Roosevelt High in Boston. It's February 29, 1956... Huh, it's a leap year. Funny." Thames smiled a bit. "Tell me something I don't know," Monica snapped impatiently. "Like what I'm here to do." "Well, according to Lothos, you've already got a good start on it." Monica blinked. "Say what?" "Yeah, your job on your boyfriend is going to make him shoot three people at a basketball game tonight, then commit suicide." "All right, then, if he's going to be doing that, then why haven't I Leaped? Why am I still here?" "Lothos wants you to stick around and make sure things continue on track. Maybe even goad Jeff a little, increase the body count?" Monica smiled a little. "This could be fun. I think I can do that." "I'd be uncomfortable around her, too, if I were you," Al noted. "How can such a good looking girl get like that, anyway?" His head turned as a group of cheerleaders bounced by. "Niiiice." "Al!" Sam sighed as his friend's attention finally returned to the matter at hand. "What are the odds right now that Jeff is going to kill those people?" Al checked the hand link. His eyes widened. "89% and rising. And the number of fatalities just upped to four." "Dammit, Al, what am I supposed to do? It doesn't look like either of them will listen to reason!" "You have to, Sam." "I know that, but I just wish that Ziggy would give some useful advice for once!" "She says..." Al had to chuckle a little. "Don't eat the cafeteria food." Sam rolled his eyes. "What was I thinking when I programmed her?" Al shrugged. "Don't ask me. You're the resident genius." "Okay, who does Ziggy say I should talk to?" "Well, it looks like you have the right idea; the best solution to this probably lies with Michelle." "After what she told him... I don't know." "Use the old Beckett charm," Al said with a grin. Sam's stomach churned. "I'm supposed to be her little brother!" Al paused for a moment, mouth open. "Oh, yeah. Forgot." "_Why_ do your first ideas always have something to do with sex?" "Fine. You don't want to have any fun on your Leaps, that's okay with me." "Good. I knew I could count on you." Thames checked his hand link again. "Lothos is working on extracting some information from Michelle. I'll let you know once we've figured out all of Jeff's weak points." "See that you do. If this doesn't work, it won't be my head on the line." "Don't count on it, sweet stuff. You should know how Lothos and the Project Head get when they're upset." There. Why should he be the only one who's nervous? Besides, it was all too true. "Never mind that. Just get me the information. I've got a class to go to." "All right, then." He opened the Projection Room door and stepped through. He stopped. "Just don't get any ideas." "Like Alia, you mean?" Monica's lip curled in contempt. "Just do your job, and I'll do mine." "Good. As long as you understand that." The door shut, and Monica picked up her books and left. "I'm glad you approve," Sam said curtly. He paused by the room Ziggy had indicated that housed Tyler's history class. "Why don't you run some scenarios by Ziggy? I've got a feeling that I'm going to need all the help on this Leap that I can get. Even if it is from Ziggy." The hand link squealed in protest. "She begs to differ," Al chuckled. "It looks like you hurt her feelings." "Just run those scenarios," Sam sighed, beginning to lose patience. "You heard that, Ziggy?" he added in a louder voice that attracted attention. Sam saw this and dropped to a whisper, leaning towards Al. "Tell her to behave." Al read the screen. "She says, 'Yes, sir, father.'" Sam groaned and entered the classroom. The Imaging Chamber door ground open. "Gooshie, tell Ziggy that she's gotta work on her manners!" He stepped through, then both Admiral and door were gone.