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| About Time | Batleap | Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts | Close to You | Double Dragon | Girl Talk |
| Gothic Leap | Looking Glass Limbo | Macleod Leap | Octarine Leap | Prelude to a Leap | Samantha's Song |
An exploration into Avatars, whilst Sam has a 'holiday' leap.
The first thing that Sam felt when he finished leaping was the sunshine. It
wasn't overly hot, but pleasantly warm. He took a couple of breaths.
"I
can smell the sea..." He opened his eyes and looked around him. Tall pines
just in front of him, emitting their own faint odour, then, through them down
the hill, the unmistakable twinkle of blue sea. Sam smiled as he felt the gentle
breeze and the warm tree trunk under his hands, "This is extremely nice. I
wonder where Al is."
"Right here, Sam. This is some spot, eh?
Ziggy has no idea why you're here...she keeps muttering the word 'peregrination'
and won't elucidate." Sam looked at Al, who for once nearly blended into
the background in a green suit with a brown shirt. The tie, however was gold and
sparkled fiercely in the sunlight.
"I think that word means
'pilgrimage'. Does that help at all?" Al consulted his Handlink.
"Well,
let's see where and when you are...... This is the south coast of England; the
holiday resort of Weymouth is several miles to the left. You're in the grounds
of a retreat house, but not monks or nuns - this place is run by a community.
They are open to people of any faith or none....that's quite a development since
I last went to one of these places," Al looked into the middle distance and
Sam could guess what he was remembering, "Anyway, this is Summer, to be
precise June 95. That's incredibly close..... You're a new worker who's just
been taken on and you answer to the name of Christopher Walker, age 41. He's
been a drifter, a kind of hobo. No wife, no kids, not even a girlfriend. You've
got the rest of the afternoon until about 5.30 free. Ziggy says....ah, here it
is; Christopher died while swimming. You have to go and take a dip and make sure
he doesn't die."
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Sam leaps into the movie version of the caped crusader!
The falling sensation of the leap was different this time. Sam felt pulled, stretched. It was as if a giant hand had snatched him from the path he should have taken and was yanking him off-course somewhere else. He landed on a highly polished stone floor, stumbled and fell to his hands and knees. The surface of the floor had been buffed so well that he could make out the suggestion of brown hair and a blue suit. Sam looked down at himself. Yes, masculine blue wool suit of a very high quality, maybe even Savile Row. He whistled softly and looked around him. He was in a long corridor or passage, punctuated on the left-hand side with windows. It was late evening or night outside. On the right wall, spaced evenly down the length of the corridor, stood several half circular tables, each reeking of polish and at least a hundred years' age. Above the nearest table was a beautiful oval mirror with an ornate frame that Sam knew instinctively was covered in real gold leaf. He stood up, noting the chandeliers with real candles that hung near the ceiling and the decorative plaster-work near the tops of the wall......
A little later....
"Now, we took into account the
chafing you got around the neck with the current model, so we redesigned the
neck-line here and here. I've received the new supply of bullet-proof lycra and
the re-vamped light weight alloy for the body will be easier to wear. The cape
is still waterproofed, of course." Sam was frozen in horror at the first
sentence.....
"Anyway, Sam....you're name is Bruce Wayne and this
intriguing outfit is worn by you....I mean him, when he goes out and
about as...." The final piece of the puzzle fell into place in Sam's mind.
"BATMAN!!
Ohhh, BOY!"........
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Sam leaps into a certain female Greek fantasy character!
Sam broke out of his reverie and looked around cautiously. He was standing in a clear mountain lake, alone. A low rise sheltered the lake, making a natural hollow for the water. Sam looked down at himself, but all he could see was his own familiar chest with water droplets caught in the brown hair. He peered into the water, but there was a subtle current just here that stopped him getting a clear reflection of his host's face. He decided to get out of the water. It was only as he did so that he finally discovered that he was naked. Sam scrambled for the nearest bush.....
A few lines later....
"What the hell?"
Al zeroed in beside Sam.
"Ooooh, leather.....and all that
metal," Al's eyes glowed, "I know...you're on location and starring in
a bondage and fetish porno movie...." Sam went beetroot and his mouth
narrowed.
.......the suit fitted her curves like a second skin. Part of Sam's
buried libido flamed in masculine appreciation.
"Ohhh, boyyy," he
whispered.
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Someone listens to Sam's initial request!
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......
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.
Al also gets some fringe benefits from the latest leap!
"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'
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Sam leaps in to save a young girl's life in this leap based on my personal expereiences.
Once again I leaped, but this time the falling, rippling sensations seemed to go on and on a lot longer. Like the time I'd leaped into 'Nam....did that mean I was going outside the States again? There was a sudden jolt and I found myself sitting down abruptly on a tarmac sidewalk. Ouch! I picked myself up, hearing a peal of childish laughter near me. I turned around slowly, dusting off my trousers as I did so. Yuk, blue nylon and probably full of static. And topped by a very anonymous pale blue short-sleeved shirt. No clues there. I looked down and found the source of the laughter. It was a little girl, out riding a huge tricycle that must have been at least two sizes too large. She had short brown hair, a huge crop of freckles and wide blue eyes. She was wearing a green check dress with a wide white collar. The Sixties? I seem to remember someone; was it Katie? wearing a dress like that back in '63. Never mind, on with the business in hand. I crouched down closer to her level.
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This all started from one basic irresistible idea: - How Al would cope with being a woman, as a Leaper. And then the story took on a life of it's own....!!
Little bursts of light scurried across Ziggy's mainframe and colour began to
flood her control panel for the first time in over a year.
"I'll summon
somebody."
"NEGATIVE, ADMIRAL. MY FATHER NEEDS HELP RIGHT AWAY."
Ziggy lowered the glowing ball that looked like a disco ornament and projected
a scene on the wall. Sam was lying in a cardboard box on a sidewalk. Snow was
falling and his lips and hands were blue with cold. He looked like he hadn't
eaten or shaved in at least a month.
"Oh, dear God! What can we do?"
Al picked up his Handlink.
"THAT WON'T BE ENOUGH. YOU NEED TO TOUCH
HIM, THEN HE'LL LEAP OUT OF THERE." Al froze as he took in the
implications.
"I've gotta leap after him, haven't I?"
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Author's preamble: This is a crossover story between QL and American Gothic. Viewers of the latter will know how menacing it could be.. You could say this is another look at The B--giem-n, guessing at what Sheriff Lucas Buck probably is. But this time Sam has to deal with it/him on a much more personal level.....
"Of course. I'm here with you, Sam."
Sam turned to Al with fear in his eyes.
"I've got the Leapee talking
to me in my head, Al. Somehow he stayed here.".....
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Like many people, I was intrigued by Mirror Image and absolutely devastated by the ending. This is my first personal answer to how QL might end. We know that there are other good Leapers out there and Thames. I also wanted to provide both Sam and Al with a love story. Die-hard Donna fans had better not go any further! I have deliberately maintained the differences in spelling American and British speech. I have to admit this is my personal favourite of the stories I've written for QL. It's novella length, so prepare for a long read!
I leaped as soon as I left Beth's house, but this time it was different. I
seemed to be tumbling over and over, stretching and contracting dizzily in
space. Just when I thought I couldn't stand it any longer, I stopped dead and
dropped into a slump on a sidewalk. My head throbbed painfully, my gut hurt and
my feet ached. I looked around me carefully. Cars drove honking by in the
sunlight, a fire hydrant dribbled half- heartedly on the kerb and I could smell
hot dogs cooking somewhere nearby. The sidewalk sweated dust and garbage lay
festering in half- empty trash cans. It didn't take a genius to know that I was
in the slum area of an American city. But which one? I picked myself up and
began to walk painfully along the street. Whoever I was, I'd had a skinful and a
half pretty recently. Ohhhh, boy.
"Hey, Eth, you forgot your stuff!"
The New York accent was unmistakable. I turned around very gingerly, my head
swimming as I did so. A filthy dirty tramp was smiling at me with about three
teeth and holding up a couple of plastic carrier bags. As I automatically went
back to get them, I realised that I was wearing what might have been a dress
about three lifetimes ago under my coat. Oh, no; I was a bag lady. No, make
that an alcoholic bag lady. As I fetched my possessions, such as they were, I
caught sight of myself in the glass of the shop doorway near to where I'd been
sheltering. I dropped my bags again in shock. Under the tattered hat and
straggly hair a face like my own stared back at me, unshaved and clearly male,
despite the dress. This was crazy; the clothes said 'woman', but the face
definitely didn't. A transvestite? Well, I suppose anything's possible. I
decided to keep an open mind on my gender until I knew for sure. I think the
addled nature of my brain kept me from realising the full truth of my situation
until much later......
The next leap....
It was hot. Hot and smelly and dark. I
couldn't move, but I was being transported in some sort of truck with two other
bodies, one of whom was sticking a metal object in my back.
"You no
talk or I shoot, OK?" I felt my mouth with my tongue. Oh, God; it was
covered in tape, as was what felt like most of the rest of my body. After some
time bumping painfully over pot-holes, we stopped in deeper darkness. I was
hauled out of the truck and carried down a couple of flights of stairs. The
removal of the tape was excruciatingly painful, but the gun at my back persuaded
me to suffer in silence.....
And then....
I was warm, comfortable and, thank God, free of pain. I opened my eyes
and saw....whiteness. Snow? No, it didn't feel like snow. I sat up slowly. For
a moment I thought I was in a padded cell because there was whiteness all around
me. I looked down at myself. I was wearing a Fermi suit and I seemed to be in my
own body. Those certainly looked like my own hands and feet. I gingerly examined
my body - no cuts, no bruises; if anything I was perfectly healthy. It didn't
take me long to reason that I might be dead and this might be Heaven...or
possibly Nirvana, since I seemed to be alone. I slept for a long time in that
place and gradually all my mental scars healed and faded. I felt neither hunger
nor thirst in that peaceful place. Yes, if a place could be called Peace and
Healing, then this was it. Then, after an immeasurable length of time, it could
have been hours, days, years; I looked up and there was someone else standing
there. A woman, in a Fermi suit like mine. She walked towards me, smiling
nervously. As I stood up to greet her. the first thing I noticed about her was
her intense blue eyes and her crooked smile, then I took in brown hair and a
face that was striking and memorable rather than possessing a classical beauty.
She stopped nervously some distance away.
"Samuel Beckett? You are
Doctor Samuel Beckett?" At last, at long last, someone who knew the real
me. I smiled with genuine pleasure......
But why are you here?" A brilliant smile flashed across Viola's
face.
"That's easy. We've come to take you home."
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Sam finds out about Immortals the hard way.
Sam rubbed his wrists and blinked in the semi-darkness. He was wearing well
cut jeans, an anonymous white polo neck jumper and a black jacket. Nothing
special there. Then it happened.
Tingling, burning. Sam watched in
helpless shock as blue fire shot up his body. He threw his head back. The
intense pain, the exquisite ecstasy. Sparks like lightning radiated from his
head and hands. Sam couldn't move, could hardly breathe. His rational mind
retreated and surrendered to primitive and elemental pleasure. The sensation
went on and on and Sam was trapped in the centre of the maelstrom, the fire
burning through every cell in his body. His mouth was wide open in a silent,
incoherent howl. After what might have been minutes or hours, the fire left him
and this time Sam slumped fully forward on the concrete floor, gasping softly.
He wasn't sure if he'd just experienced too much sensation or not nearly enough.
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Author's notes: This story was born out of reading Discworld followed by a lot of QL fiction on the Internet. The ideas swam around together in my unconscious for a while and then bang, one morning, this story popped into my head. As Discworld is available as an interactive computer game and in cartoons, I saw no reason why Sam couldn't leap a little further through the Imaging Chamber into this alternative reality. There will be Terry Pratchett-like explanatory notes for novices, trainee wizards and other life-forms. Oook!
The beautiful blue and white shimmer of another leap deposited Sam onto a
threadbare carpet on a rough wooden floor. He blinked slowly a few times, taking
long, steadying breaths, then rose slowly to his feet. His attention was
immediately riveted by the...garment he was wearing. It was long, shabby,
voluminous and pink. Pink with silver stars and a gold trim round the sleeves
and hem. Opposite Sam was an ancient dirty mirror. Sam approached with some
trepidation, wiping the best of the grime off with one sleeve. Sam had expected
to see a hippie. He was sadly mistaken. A long thin face sporting a long thin
grey beard and matching straggly hair met his gaze. Topped off with a beak of a
nose and a long pointy hat...there was only one thing he could be.
"Good
grief! I'm a wizard....or someone who thinks he's a wizard. Ohhh, boy."
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Author's notes: This story was partially inspired by the film 'Prelude to a Kiss' and also by wondering how Sam might cope if he fell in love with a woman whilst having to be a woman himself. As things progressed, I also got an idea of another way Sam might get something approaching the old Al back after having changed his life so radically in MI. With a little help from his friends.....
Things had a different perspective for Sam Beckett. After he'd persuaded
Beth to wait for Al, everything had unravelled crazily. As far as Sam was
concerned, he was alone a lot of the time and when Al was there, even that
relationship had shifted. Al was tireder, strained and his appreciation of the
charms of attractive women on Sam's leaps had diminished drastically. Sam felt
himself unwittingly torn between the good that he had tried to do and the old Al
that only he remembered.
'God help me if I don't miss all those outrageous
comments. And the loud clothes. Al's been wearing brown and black far too much
recently.'.....
......"No, I don't think....." His breath was completely
taken away by the most beautiful pair of grey eyes he had ever seen, set in a
face that was darned close to stunning. It was definitely not the
blonde. This lady had light brown hair and was looking at him with sympathy and
concern, her expressive lips softly parted. 'Ohhhh, boyy....' he thought
to himself, 'Ohh, BOY!!'.
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Author's disclaimer: Don't ask me where this idea came from, it just appeared in my mind one day and said 'Write this!' Those of you who know me will be only too aware of how much I value the character of Sam and how Scott became him in QL. And yet, there was this voice saying, 'What if Sam had been a woman all the time, right from the start? How might that affect the relationship between her and Al?'. This was followed by the time-honoured thought, 'Ohhh, boyy!!' So, here it is. Right out of the Twilight Zone, from the end of the world to your town. Musings from the minds of Al and Samantha. Boy, is this weird.
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