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

Views to: linda18@ntlworld.com

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

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

Enjoy.

A LEAP FOR RAY

by Linda Hughes

"I awoke to find myself trapped in the past, facing

mirror images that were not my own, and driven by

an unknown force to change history for the better"

(Dr. Sam Beckett)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ya want coffee?" his companion sounded surprised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It would appear so," Sam answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," Sam stammered flushing slightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Al?" Sam started to say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do I have to?" Sam groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I see," Fraser said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It does?" Fraser asked puzzled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ray," Sam cried as he ran faster.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Understood," Sam found himself saying.

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

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

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

THE END

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