Boy, am I tired, thought the slightly stocky middle-aged actor as he finished the scene. As he closed his eyes and mentally counted off the "pop-out" seconds, he felt slightly dizzy. When he opened his eyes to walk off the set, suddenly there were no cameras, no Scott, not even the set of Jack Stone’s house. Where the hell am I? thought Dean Stockwell as he contemplated the huge, cavernous white room. He stared up and saw a silver disk floating above him, looked down and saw one below his feet. "The Imaging Chamber?" Suddenly, a sultry female voice spoke to him, "Admiral, you are needed in the briefing room, immediately." Admiral? Oh, boy! Dean thought as he looked at the handlink and tried to figure out which button opened the Imaging Chamber door. He was happy to see the door open and Dennis walk through. "Admiral, may I have your handlink? It doesn’t seem to be working." Dean wordlessly handed over then handlink, and Dennis held out another one. "Ziggy, activate the new handlink, please," he said. Dean almost jumped (but managed not too, thankfully) when the sultry voice answered, "Yes, Gooshie. I have already done so." The handlink in Dean’s hand lit up and began to scroll messages towards the top. So that’s how it’s supposed to work! Dean thought, and that must be Gooshie. I must have switched places with the real Admiral Calavicci. Gooshie gave him a puzzled look, "Aren’t you going to meet with Dr. Beeks about the current leap, Admiral?" Dean thought about that week’s script, and what he was supposed to do. "Tell Dr. Beeks to wait a little while. I want to keep an eye on Sam. I’m a bit worried about him." Gooshie nodded, and Dean inwardly relaxed, happy that his story went unquestioned. "How long shall I tell her?" Dean thought about that, and looked at his watch, "Oh, a half hour should be fine." Gooshie nodded. Dean went to put the cigar he was holding into his mouth, and noticed it was unlit. He patted his pockets looking for a lighter, but didn’t find one. "Need a light, Admiral?" Gooshie held up a Zippo lighter. "Sure, thanks." He lit his cigar, took a couple of satisfactory puffs, and gave the lighter back to Gooshie. "Shall I center you on Dr. Beckett?" Dean nodded. Gooshie, apparently satisfied, walked out, giving the handlink in his hand an odd look. It must be so much lighter than the real thing, and he probably notices. Oh, boy! What’s happening on the set, with Al in my place? Dean thought.
"Come on Dean! Scott can’t stay frozen forever!" Al looked up in surprise. "Come on!" The man speaking was standing behind a movie camera. What happened to the Imaging Chamber? Where am I? he pondered as he stumbled past the man by the camera. "Sleepy?" A woman came to his elbow, "Let me help you to your trailer so you can lie down." She led him to a small motor home. He looked over the pictures on the walls -- obviously done by young children, probably this guy Dean’s kids. Looking around the trailer, he saw golf clubs, a chess computer, and a TV with VCR. Lying on a tiny table was a script and a timetable. Examining the script, he saw that the show was called Quantum Leap and the episode they were filming was called "Dreams". A man named Dean Stockwell was playing Al Calavicci. "Hey -- they’re filming the story of Project Quantum Leap, and they’re doing the mission Sam is in right now!" He picked up the script and laid down on the bed to read it. Before he got the point in time where he had come here, he fell asleep.
Dean puffed on his cigar, holding the handlink in his left hand, as he discreetly watched Sam stare at the door to the room where Janice DiCaro had been murdered. Good thing I read ahead in the script, or I’d be lost he thought, and as he kept an eye on Sam, he pondered the circumstances that had brought him here.
Musta been that little bit of dizziness. While I was popping out on film, Al musta been popping out here and somehow we switched places. So now I gotta fake it and pretend I’m Al. Dean smirked, Yeah, act like a person whom I’ve been playing for nearly five years. Shouldn’t be too hard. Now will Al be able to pull off acting on the show? Didn’t we mention Al being in summer stock in some episode? Maybe he’ll do okay after all.
"Dean! Dean! I think our spoiled rotten star is getting more spoiled by the minute. How much are you paying him, Don?"
"Same as you, Scott."
Al woke slowly, slightly confused at first. He’d been talking with Sam and then . . . oh yeah. He’d ended up on this show that was filming what was going on at Project Quantum Leap. He groaned as he sat up and discovered stiffened muscles. How long had he slept, anyway? "What time is it?"
The sandy-haired man who had been shaking him, and who was a dead ringer for Sam, smiled.
"Only 6 o’clock, lazy bones. You’ve been out for four hours. Luckily, we didn’t need your carbon quarks anymore today." Al scowled -- this guy was having way too much fun at Al’s expense.
"Okay, Scott, enough. Remember what Dean did during 'Sea Bride'? You don’t want to go through that again, do you?"
So this guy was Scott, and he’d called the other guy Don. That was a start. Now if only Ziggy could find him and tell him what he had to do.
"Did you forget about our dinner date already, Dean? Oh, and here’s a revised timetable for the rest of the week." Don handed him a new timetable.
"Uh, no, well, it kinda slipped my mind." Al figured faking amnesia to get information was better than not knowing enough and making a big mistake. He got up and put the new timetable inside the cover of the script, on top of the old one. The new one was blue, while the old one was white, so Al didn’t think he’d get them confused.
"Yeah, our dinner at the Brown Derby to discuss the next few weeks of episodes. I’m driving," Scott answered.
Dean met with Dr. Beeks. She was even more beautiful than the actress who had made a couple of guest appearances as Verbena on the show. He could really understand Al’s comment from a past show about how he ‘used to think she was cute’. She explained that there didn’t seem to be any indications that Stone -- the guy in the Waiting Room, had murdered Janice DiCaro. She also warned him to keep Sam away from P.J. DiCaro. Dean nodded and added his input at the right times and was happy to note that she seemed fooled. Thank God.
Later, sitting in Al’s quarters looking at the Admiral’s flashy wardrobe, Dean decided to confide in Ziggy. Maybe she can help me get back home, and he started up a conversation with the hybrid computer.
After he had explained the situation to Ziggy, she sighed. Dean was surprised at how human she sounded. He thought of how much the real Ziggy sounded like Deborah.
"I do not believe it would be a good idea to reveal the switch to other members of the project. Your brain wave patterns are close enough to those of Admiral Calavicci’s so that there should be no problems with maintaining contact with Dr. Beckett. Meanwhile, I will try to determine how this switch occurred. Do you think you can fool the other members of the project?"
Dean smiled, "Oh, I think I can fool them with a role I’ve been playing for nearly five years. What I’m worried about is the handlink. I can’t figure out which button is which!"
Suddenly, the terminal on the desk lit up with a picture of the handlink.
"Here is the tutorial the Admiral used to familiarize himself with this handlink design. Gooshie will be expecting you in the Control Room in one half hour."
"Thanks Ziggy!"
"You’re welcome, Mr. Stockwell. Or shall I say, Admiral."
Dean sat down at the desk and began to work his way through the handlink tutorial.
Al’s mind was working double time as they drove to the Brown Derby. He was in the front seat of Scott’s red convertible -- which was a similar model to Al’s own Testarrosa Ferrari. In the back seat were Don Bellisario and Deborah Pratt -- the show’s executive producers according to the script cover. But, to Al, they were Troian Claridge and Dr. Timothy Mintz. And, of course, Scott was so much like Sam, it was disconcerting!
His spirits lifted when he saw the Brown Derby. He’d always wanted to eat at the Brown Derby. He just wished the circumstances were different.
"Admiral, Gooshie is expecting you in the Control Room in ten minutes."
"Thanks Ziggy. That gives me enough time to change clothes." Dean gave Al’s closet a critical eye, and sighed. Like it or not, he had no choice but to wear something of Al’s. He thought for a few moments, and decided on the red suit with white, red and black shirt, bolo tie and red fedora. He quickly splashed some water on his face, changed clothes, stuffed the handlink in his left jacket pocket, and carefully tucked a couple of Chavelo cigars in his inside jacket pocket along with a lighter. He stood in front of the mirror to check his reflection. "Pretty good, if I do say so myself." And with that, he left Al’s quarters and headed for the Control Room.
Al sighed as they left the Brown Derby. He’d made it through dinner without any mistakes, and he’d made mental notes of everything they’d talked about. He decided to write everything down before he went to bed and leave the notes in Dean’s trailer so Dean wouldn’t be lost if --- when! he got back.
"So, you gonna break into Don’s office after hours tonight while the lot is deserted and give yourself all the good lines?" Scott joked as he walked Al back to Dean’s trailer. Al guessed that, at least during the week, Dean lived in his trailer, but he bet he went home to a wife and kids on the weekends, judging by the children’s drawings in the trailer.
"Yeah, right. You know I already have the good lines!" Al countered. Scott laughed as they reached the trailer.
"Good night Dean. See ya in the morning -- in make-up at dawn!"
Al waved goodnight as Scott walked away. He went into the trailer, found a pair of pajamas, and pulled out the folding bed. He got comfortable, and began reading the script from the point where he had fallen asleep. He figured he’d better memorize his lines, even though Scott had called him the ad-lib king several times that evening. But it was hard to concentrate. Al wasn’t so much worried about his own situation as he was worried about Sam. He did feel a little assured by the fact that this Dean Stockwell seemed to be a caring person and Al figured that Dean would probably do his best to help Sam. And, Al was even more reassured by the fact that the script showed that Sam ended up fine. Al fervently hoped that part of the script followed what was really happening at the Project as well as the beginning had. After finishing the script and memorizing the scenes they were scheduled to shoot in the morning, Al laid back and fell asleep.
"There is no change in the odds, Admiral. But, Ziggy has found some more information. She's uncovered the autopsy records of Janice DiCaro."
"Anything helpful?" Dean couldn’t remember what was in the script at this point. He hadn’t read that far ahead, so he was going on instinct now.
"Not really." Gooshie seemed to be holding something back.
"Gooshie!" he said menacingly. Gooshie flinched.
"Nothing that would help Dr. Beckett or affect the odds. But, the records are there for you to access through the handlink in the event that Dr. Beckett needs them."
"Damn. Ziggy hasn’t found anything helpful?" Gooshie shook his head. "What about Dr. Beeks? Has she had any progress with Stone in the Waiting Room?" Ziggy replied before Gooshie had a chance.
"The visitor is currently asleep. Dr. Beeks had a twenty minute conversation with him immediately after your meeting with her, but no relevant information was uncovered."
"Damn! How’s Sam doing?"
"He is currently asleep. You have time to sleep before Dr. Beckett meets with Pam Rosselli tomorrow morning."
"Okay, give me a wakeup call half an hour before Sam’s meeting, okay?"
Gooshie nodded, and Ziggy replied, "Yes, Admiral. Pleasant dreams."
When Dean reached Al’s quarters, he took a long, hot shower and got into bed. He was asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.
The next morning, Dean awoke to a blaring bugle sound. After a moment of confusion, he realized it was a military-style walkeup call.
"Enough, Ziggy! I'm up!" he yelled. The bugles immediately stopped. "What time is it?"
"Oh-seven-hundred hours, Admiral. Dr. Beckett is awake and preparing to meet with Pam Rosselli in one half hour."
"Thanks Ziggy. Any progress on getting me home?"
"No. I still cannot determine the cause of the switch."
"Oh well. Keep working on it Ziggy." Dean shaved, washed up and the stared into Al's closet deciding what to wear. He tried to remember what Jean-Pierre had whipped up for this week's episode. He finally decided on a white suit with peach shirt and bolo tie. He lit a cigar and began smoking it as he made his way to the control room.
Gooshie handed him a new handlink, "This handlink has been loaded with all the data on Peter DiCaro's trial and the autopsy results for Janice DiCaro."
Dean thanked him and headed into the Imaging Chamber. He stood on the silver disk, checked his watch, and yelled to Gooshie, "Gooshie, center me on Sam!"
Images swirled around him for a moment and then fanned out to show Sam and his surroundings -- at this point, Sam was driving to Peter DiCaro's office. Ziggy had placed Dean in the back seat, behind Sam.
"Hi Sam. Sleep well?"
Sam glared at him in the rear view mirror. "No," he growled, "You have anything new?"
"Nada. But Ziggy pulled up all the data on Peter DiCaro's trial and Janice DiCaro's autopsy and maybe we'll find something useful in there."
"Great." They drove the rest of the way in silence. Pam Rosselli met them at the door to DiCaro's office. Sam and Rosselli immediately began to go through DiCaro's things. When Rosselli found DiCaro's appointment book, Sam lit on it immediately.
" . . . who he saw, what he ate," Sam was saying.
"Or who. Uhh, when they put Mrs. DiCaro back together they were missing her heart."
That jogged Dean's memory. He'd been reading over the autopsy records and there was no mention of a missing heart.
"Uh, the heart business never came up at Peter's trial. If the coroner made a report it wasn't in the records," Dean told him.
After a little more looking, Sam made to leave, but Rosselli stopped him.
"Does this mean that dinner tonight is on or off?"
"Dinner?" Dean looked at the handlink and shrugged. He had no data.
"Dinner, tonight, my place, nine."
Dean decided he's better keep Sam on a tight rein. "Say yes."
"Why?" Sam asked.
"That way I won't have to go looking for you while you're sneaking around the DiCaro place again!" Dean didn't want to stretch the link between the Project and Sam any more than they had to.
"Why not."
They left DiCaro's office and Sam decided to head for the office of Mason Crane, the psychiatrist.
When they reached Crane's office, Dean decided that as long as he had the chance, he might as well have fun with it, so he walked right through the door to Crane's office. He waited a minute and stuck his head back out to favor Sam with a glare.
"Come on Sam, you're a cop, jimmy the lock!" He stepped back into the office and watched Sam through the privacy glass.
"I'm not a cop! I don't know how to jimmy the lock."
Dean thought to himself, No, of course the Prudent Prince doesn't know how to jimmy the lock. I'd better help him, and he stuck his head back out, "Try a credit card!"
Sam did so and cautiously entered the office. Dean looked around at what he could see without being able to move stuff and directed Sam to where he thought potential clues might be. After a while, they had found nothing, but then Dean had a brainstorm.
"The rolodex! Why didn't we look in the rolodex!" Sam did so, and discovered that Crane had been seeing both Peter and Janice DiCaro.
That evening at dinner, Sam discussed his suspicions with Rosselli. After a short dinner, Sam went back to Stone's place and went to bed. Dean followed his example and went to bed himself. As he laid down in Admiral Calavicci's bed, he thought, Gee, I'm almost beginning to enjoy myself. Being a hologram is kinda fun. But I'd still rather get back to where I belong and have Al back here where he belongs.
The next morning, Al found the makeup trailer without any trouble. He sat down in the chair next to Scott.
"So, Mr. Ad-lib, how much of the script are you going to throw out the window today?"
Al smirked, "Whatever do you mean?"
"Just don't throw me something totally off the wall. I want to get done at a normal time today so I can get to Chelsea's recital."
As he stood on the set, Al felt a bit more relaxed. He'd done summer stock as a kid and this wasn't that much different. He even got to wear his kind of clothes -- golden yellow pants, a black shirt, and a golden jacket. It was right out of his closet! And the script was so well written -- it was so much like him that he didn't really have to act that much. After a couple of hours, he even began to ad-lib a little. But he still had a nagging worry for Sam in the back of his mind that he tried to forget about. He was enjoying himself, but he still wanted to get back to Sam.
After a few takes saying his lines as scripted, Al took up Scott's challenge and began to ad-lib. The character was really himself so it wasn't hard. They were filming a scene towards the beginning of the script, at the crime scene.
"What happened? Holy mackerel!"
If Scott was upset over the minor ad-lib, he didn't show it. Al moved to look into the room with the body as scripted, and seeing the dummy all made up as the body of Janice DiCaro, Al reacted as himself, forgetting the script.
"Ohhhhh! Jeeeez louise!"
"Why am I here Al?" Scott, however, still stuck to the script. He had a Prudent Prince kind of personality, like Sam.
"Ziggy gives it a ninety-nine percent you're here to save a guy named Peter DiCaro. Oohhh!"
The rest of the scene went pretty much as scripted. Al was having a good time, but worry for Sam still occupied the back of his mind.
"Admiral, it is oh-nine-hundred hours and we have discovered some relevant information that Dr. Beckett should be informed of immediately."
"Oooh! Thanks for the wakeup call, Ziggy. I'll be down in five minutes. Anything on my situation?"
"Negative." He heard a click -- apparently Ziggy didn't want to talk anymore.
Dean splashed some water on his face and put on gold pants, black shirt, and a burnished gold jacket, with shiny gold shoes, and headed down to the Control Room.
"I talked to Stone, Admiral. He told me that he'd had an affair with Janice DiCaro two years ago and she called him the night of the murder," Dr. Beeks was saying.
"What?" Dean didn't like this turn of events.
"Yes, Admiral. According to the phone records of the DiCaro household, the last number dialed the night of the murder was Jack Stone's," Ziggy replied.
"Oh boy. Look's like Stone is the killer."
Dean dreaded having to tell Sam. He burst through the Imaging Chamber door. Sam was meeting with Mason Crane. "Sam, you gotta get outta here. Ziggy found out why DiCaro kills you. Jack and Janice had an affair two years ago. She called him the night of the murder. DiCaro isn't the killer. You are!"
At lunch, Al had fun making fun of Scott along with the rest of the crew. The neat thing about it was that Scott didn't seem to mind the constant teasing. After the hour of teasing, Al became a little more light- hearted on the set, and Deborah remarked that he must have gotten his energy back.
Dean had a nagging thought in the back of his mind about just how big the Imaging Chamber really was as he walked alongside Sam all the way from Crane's office to Malibu General, arguing with Sam about why he shouldn't go talk to P.J. Of course, Sam wouldn't listen to his advice, or Verbena's advice that he passed on. Ziggy relayed updated information and advice from Beeks.
"Beeks says that if you make him remember his mother's death, he could maybe never pull out of this."
Sam kept trying to find out who P.J. had seen in his house the night of the murder. Dean tried pulling an update on the odds up on the handlink.
"Damn. Sam, you still get killed. I'm gonna go back and get with Ziggy on this." He punched the door code in, "You stay put."
Dean stood for a moment staring at the door, then he got into his ‘Admiral mode’ and stormed into the Control Room.
"Damnit Ziggy! I need something useful!"
The computer replied evenly, "We're doing the best we can, Admiral. Why don't you go to your quarters and relax. You are no help to Dr. Beckett in your current emotional state. Perhaps a couple hours rest will help you to see the answers more clearly."
Dean had to concede to that piece of advice. He shoved the handlink into Gooshie's hands and stormed back to Al's quarters. Once there, he flopped on the bed. "Ziggy, do you have anything on my situation?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. That is why I suggested you come here, so I could tell you privately."
"Finally! I need something helpful to brighten my day."
"It seems that the unusual coincidence of both you and Admiral Calavicci performing the exact same movements at the exact same time of day on the same day of the year, caused a minor tear in the space-time continuum, which resulted in the switch."
"Okay. So how do we reverse the switch?"
"I do not know. It may not be possible."
Dean sat and contemplated this. His one thought was Uh oh.
Al was truly enjoying himself. Off-camera, they had a good time joking about the script. On-camera, everyone was professional. They were filming the final scene of the episode that afternoon -- one that was dramatic and heavy in tone. Sam was under hypnosis from the creepy shrink, Mason Crane, and Crane was trying to get Sam to commit suicide. Al had to walk through the Imaging Chamber door part way through the scene. Al carefully reviewed the script in his mind as the scene began.
Dean took a deep breath to calm himself as he walked through the door to the Control Room.
"What's up Ziggy?"
"We have some information on Janice DiCaro's murder, and the mysterious dreams Dr. Beckett has been having. It turns out that Jack Stone witnessed his mother's autopsy when he was only nine years old. Seeing Janice DiCaro's body must have reminded him of that horrible memory. And we have discovered that the reason Peter DiCaro tried to commit suicide was that he was under hypnosis."
"Hypnosis! Who hypnotized him?"
Al breathed a sigh of relief as the director called, "Cut! Print! Great job everyone!" They were finally finished for the day. Al wearily headed back to Dean's trailer. As he looked at the children's drawings hanging on the wall, he wondered, Am I ever going to get back home?
Dean panicked when Ziggy told him they were loosing Sam. He hurried into the Imaging Chamber.
"Sam! Sam! Sam! Snap out of it! He's inside your mind! Ziggy can't hold on to you!"
There was a knock on the door to the trailer.
"Come in!"
"Here's next week's script. You don't have to be here for the leapin, as usual. Go ahead and go home to Joy and the kids, and be back on Monday."
The man left. Al wondered how he was going to get home if he didn't even know where home was.
Dean sighed as Sam slid down to sit on the floor. Crane was dead, and Sam was safe. Dean crouched down by Sam, and watched as he lept away. I'm glad I got to see this. It's really beautiful. He took a deep breath and left the Imaging Chamber.
"Dr. Beckett has leaped. You won't be needed for several hours at least, so go to bed Admiral."
Dean grunted, tossed the handlink onto the main console, staggered over to Al's quarters and laid down.
All of a sudden, Dean opened his eyes and saw not the bare walls of Al Calavicci's quarters, but rather the walls of his trailer.
"Home?"
Al saw his own quarters and rejoiced.
"Ziggy, what's gone on?"
"It is a pleasure to have you back, Admiral. Dr. Beckett is safe and between leaps."
"You're still here Dean? I thought by now you'd be halfway back home!"
Dean sighed. Home at last. He hoped Al and Sam were both safe.
Al sighed. Home at last. He hoped Dean had gotten home safe. He sat down at the terminal and began to call up information on a certain period of history.
Last updated 19 JUN 98
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