Saving Justin

by Nancy

Fandom: Queer as Folk/Quantum Leap:

Rated NC17

Pairing: Sam/Ben, Sam/Al, Michael/Ben, Justin/Brian (though really, there's not as much sex in it as you'd think given all those pairings. *grin*)

Summary: There's a killer in Pittsburgh and it's up to Sam to stop Justin from being the victim, as well as Brian's future suicide from his lover's death.

Saving Justin

by Nancy

Pleasure...pleasure so intense, so exquisite, and so raw, that he didn't know what was up and what down. It felt like he was flat on his back, but his feet were in sight. Oh, wait, his legs were up, and spread apart, for the man between them. For the man who pulled his penis back so slowly, until it was almost out, then slammed hard into him.

"Oh...boy..." Sam groaned, clutching the metal bars of the headboard even tighter. He felt split apart, filled to overflowing where there shouldn't be anything. He felt...confused.

Almost instantly, the straining, sweaty body above him stopped. Unfortunately, or fortunately, he wasn't sure which, the man stopped while fully sheathed inside him. Concerned blue eyes looked down at him. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

There was no mistaking the love and tenderness in that voice, mixed with a healthy dose of worry. Sam breathed in shakily and thought about it for a second. He wasn't hurting, he just wasn't sure he was...well...he wasn't sure what he was...or why it didn't hurt. "Uh, no."

Relief spread across broad, handsome features and the man leaned in for a sweet, soft kiss. "Good. I never want to hurt you."

And with something like that statement hanging in the air, what else could Sam do? He cupped the man's face and urged hesitantly, "Go on."

"Are you sure?"

Sam nodded, though he wasn't sure, not in the least. This time, the man moved more softly, without the force of before. The slide of his penis in and out of Sam still didn't feel right, but it didn't feel as wrong, either. Then the man shifted, changed his angle, and that earlier pleasure ripped through Sam. "Oh, God!"

A warm chuckle echoed through the air above him, but Sam could only hang on for the ride as that place inside was triggered, over and over. He didn't think he'd ever been as hard and aching before in his life. Of their own volition, Sam's hands left the metal and gripped living flesh instead. With the man's buttock's clutched tightly in his hands, though it was a stretch to get them there, Sam urged the man back to his previous force, helping things along by meeting the thrusts on his own.

The wet, meaty sounds of their bodies moving together was an aural caress, burning through Sam in a way he'd never imagined. He didn't feel the pinch in his lower back at being in that position, he didn't feel the pillows under his hips, he didn't feel anything except the penis in him and the searing pleasure as orgasm slammed into him the same time the man did and held still against him, roaring his own release.

Things grayed out for quite a while after that. Sam didn't notice the man gently pulling out of his body, or the careful dispatch of a condom. He dozed lightly, vaguely aware, as the man returned to bed with a warm, damp cloth and wiped Sam's stomach clean. He barely came awake as the man slipped into bed with him and pulled the covers around them, tucking Sam into his arms as though he were much smaller.

The loving kiss to his temple warmed him, and Sam snuggled closer, as close as he could get, kissing the bare chest under him without thinking twice about it.

* * * *

Something warm and wet slid invitingly along his chest, drawing Sam from the depths of an extremely comfortable sleep. He sighed deeply, smiling without opening his eyes.

"C'mon, sleepyhead, time to get up. You're meeting the boys for breakfast this morning, remember?"

Sam frowned at the warm, masculine voice then memories from before hit him and his eyes popped open. Oh boy. There was a rather large man leaning over him, and he was just as nude as he felt. Heat suffused Sam's face as he remembered his abandon from the night before.

"That looks good on you," the man commented, eyes twinkling.

Sam was afraid to ask. "What does?"

"Whatever it is you're thinking about that's got you blushing like a fire engine. You're just so cute that I could eat you up. Wait a minute, I did that last night, didn't I?" the man teased, nibbling at Sam's nipple.

Groaning, both in embarrassment and from the sensations that this man somehow continued to provoke, Sam loosely threaded his fingers through the brown hair and tugged the head from his body. When a questioning look was tossed his way, Sam stammered, "Ah, breakfast, remember?"

Rolling his eyes, the man nodded and rolled off him and the bed. "Can't miss a date with the boys."

Sam leaned on his side, frowning hesitantly. "Are you upset?"

The man shrugged and replied, "Would you stop if I was?"

To that, Sam had no idea. While he was trying to think of an answer, the tell-tale sound of the chamber door opened and closed. Sam looked away from the mildly irritated expression of his lover to find Al staring at him in shock. That was when Sam remembered Al's prejudice against gays and groaned again, falling back against the pillow and putting an arm over his eyes.

"Sam! You didn't! Oh God, please tell me you didn't!?"

The bed dipped and a gentle hand brushed Sam's face. "Hey, I'm sorry. I shouldn't put you on the spot like that. They were your friends a long time before I came into the picture. It's just..."

"Sam! What the hell were you thinking!?"

"...that Brian and I don't, well, you know, get along very well. And I didn't even know..."

"Just tell me that you leaped in here after they were done whatever they were doing!"

Well. There was definitely one way to shut them both up, Sam decided. He sat up fast and hauled the as-yet-unnamed man in for a long, deep kiss, getting lost in the pleasure of sucking on the limber tongue dancing with his own.

Dead silence from Al.

Opening his eyes, Sam discovered, with a measure of smugness, that he hadn't lost his touch when it came to kissing. Although, he hadn't really expected it to translate into kissing a man.

After a moment, slightly dazed blue eyes opened and a smile drifted onto the other man's face. "Right. That answers that. Go have fun. I'm going to the gym."

Sam chuckled and slapped the man playfully on the ass as his lover got off the bed and headed for the bathroom. When the door shut, Sam looked over at Al, daring the other man to say something about it.

Dark eyes regarded him coolly as Al said, "If you're through with the PDA's, maybe we can get to work here? The faster we're done, the faster you get out."

Sam leaned back against the pillows and said, "Maybe I'm not in a hurry to leave. And what's his name, anyhow?"

The bathroom door opened and a curious head poked out. "Are you talking to yourself?"

Sam smiled reassuringly. "Just trying to remember something."

"His name is Ben."

Grinning, Ben replied, "Just don't turn into that crazy queer down the street. You're too young and cute for that, Michael."

"And you're Michael Novotny. Huh. A polish queer."

Sam looked sharply at Al, the same word sounded so different coming from the two men, then back at Ben. "I won't. I'm just going to get ready."

Ben gave him an odd look before retreating into the bathroom.

Sam looked around and spotted the dresser across the room. Getting out of bed announced soreness in his lower back and buttocks, though he wasn't really surprised. He caught his reflection in the mirror above the bureau and straightened in surprise. He grinned and thought in surprise, Hey, I am cute.

And he was. Short for a man, probably about 5' 7", with close cropped dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin and a decent physique. There was an almost innocent air about him, as though he was at least ten years younger than he really was.

"Oh my God, Sam, what did he do to you?" Al demanded, striding closer.

Frowning, Sam countered, "What are you talking about?"

"Did he beat you?"

Shocked, Sam could only stare at Al, who came right up to him and touched his lower back, just at his tail bone. Not that Sam could feel the touch, since Al was a hologram. Sam tried to twist around but couldn't see what had Al in such a state. He grabbed a small mirror off the dresser and turned, angling it to look. There was a blotchy bruise forming, probably from where Ben had repeatedly slammed into him.

Heat flushed through Sam and he replaced the mirror. "No! He didn't. Ah, he was just...enthusiastic."

Al frowned, then understanding dawned and he looked away, flushing.

Sam rifled through the drawers but everything seemed way too big for him. Maybe he didn't live there?

"What are you doing?" Ben asked from behind.

Sam turned with a start. "Ah, looking for a shirt?"

Ben grinned and commented, "They're all going to swim on you. Although, hang on."

Watching as Ben turned and sprinted across the room to the closet, Sam couldn't help but admire the strong lines of him. How much of the feelings were from his host and how much himself, Sam couldn't even begin to fathom. Was he gay in his own life? From Al's reaction, he severely doubted it. But perhaps he'd been with a man or two somewhere down the line? Or maybe he'd just been curious, but not able to experiment. That last seemed the most logical conclusion.

Ben returned with a dark sweater and held it out. "I shrunk it by accident, but never got around to tossing it. Should be just a little big for you."

Sam pulled it on and found that it fit perfectly. He grabbed Ben's shirt and pulled him in for another kiss. "Thank you."

"God! Do you have to do that!?"

"You're most welcome. But you'd better wear your own pants," Ben teased, nipping at Sam's chin.

Sam laughed. "I will. Have fun at the gym. Oh, ah, when will we..."

"I'll call you. Lock up when you leave," Ben ordered with a wink.

Did he have a key?

"Just flip the doorknob lock and don't worry, it's a safe building," Ben assured him.

Nodding, Sam waited until Ben left and he heard the front door close before turning to Al. "What is wrong with you?"

"With me!? Sam, you're, you're...!"

"I'm what?"

"Not que...gay."

"And you're the expert of me."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Especially with your memory all swiss-cheesed from the leap!"

"Al, you're such a bigot!"

"That's got nothing to do with it! This isn't you! It's this Michael character."

"Michael character!? Do you even hear yourself!?" Sam demanded furiously.

Al stopped, took a deep breath and turned away, obviously trying to get a grip on his emotions.

Sam took the opportunity to do the same and looked for his pants. It was bizarre and ridiculous to argue with Al while he was hanging in the breeze, so to speak. They turned up under the bed, along with boxers still inside, and Sam yanked them on.

He stopped for a long moment to compose himself. Al was, after all, his best friend. This was sure to be a trying leap for him. Especially since it seemed that Sam was enjoying himself immensely and yet had never known, or at least not remembered, that about himself. And, too, part of it was leftover from Michael. Whatever the reason, he was there to do something, to fix something in Michael's life, or perhaps Ben's life. Needling Al about his prejudice wasn't on the menu.

Finally in the right frame of mind, Sam turned to apologize and found himself under one of the most intense looks he could remember receiving. Unaccountably, the attention directed at him from Al made him flush. "Ah, why am I here?"

Al didn't answer right away, only seemed to shake off the odd mood when his hand link chirped at him. Looking down at the multicolored device, Al read, "You're Michael Novotny, you're 30 years old, and your, ah, lover's name is Ben Bruckner, he's 35. Oh, he's HIV positive."

Sam frowned, almost but not quite remembering what that was. "HIV?"

For the first time, Al's gaze was compassionate. "It's a disease, Sam. Attacks the immune system until the body can't defend itself. Sexually transmitted. You were using a condom, right?"

Sam wracked his memories, but couldn't remember. "I don't know."

"Well, since they were already in the middle of it, I assume Michael knows what he's doing if they weren't. Although, he's not positive, so you must have been." Al shook his head and continued, "Anyhow. There's nothing strange or bad that happens to Michael that would bring you here. His Mom's alive, lives with his uncle, oh geeze, the uncle has HIV, too. Damn. She works at a diner. Let's see, he owns a comic book store, oh hey, that's neat. Just bought it, actually. Does really well for himself and opens, get this, he opens a second store and calls it, The Sequel. Cute."

Sam smiled. "So, Gooshie doesn't have any idea why I'm here?"

Al shook his head. "Not a clue. I guess just do whatever Michael normally does and keep your eyes peeled."

Which meant breakfast with the boys, whoever they were.

* * * *

Pittsburgh turned out to be nothing like Sam remembered, mostly because he didn't remember ever having been there. He glanced at Al. "Have I ever been here before?"

Al thought for a second then shook his head. "Not that I know of. Why?"

"Just curious," Sam replied. "So who am I likely to be meeting?"

Pressing numerous keys on the hand-link, Al listed, "Brian Kinney, he's your best friend, an advertising executive. Ah, Ted Schmidt, an entrepreneur of some kind, Emmett Brown, a sales person. And your mom, ah, Michael's mom, Debbie Novotny."

"Anything else I need to know about them?" Sam asked.

Someone grabbed him from behind. Without thinking, Sam grabbed the arm around his neck, spun and twisted, throwing the man against the wall and pinning him there.

"Whoa! Mikey! Tense, much?"

From that, Sam knew this man knew him and released him immediately. Taller with dark eyes set in a fine-boned, exotic face, dark hair and a stylish and loose-fitting, revealing shirt and skin-tight jeans. "Ah, sorry...Ben's...been teaching me some self-defense."

"Right. Doing a good job of it too," the other man said only half sarcastically.

They stood like that for a second then the other man shook his head and started walking. Sam scrambled to catch up. "So, ah, how's it going...?" Sam glanced to Al.

"Brian."

"Brian?"

"How does it look like it's going?" Brian countered, eyes rolling slightly.

"Good?" Sam guessed.

Brian frowned at him. "Good?"

"Ah, not good?"

"With the munchers so involved with their "wedding," I have to babysit Gus. Tonight. On a Saturday night," Brian snapped.

Munchers? Sam eyed the other man hesitantly and said, "I'm sorry."

Brian snorted. "What're you sorry for? You've got your new beau. And may I add, that's a lovely sweater you're wearing today. That I've never seen before. Christ, Michael, already sharing clothes? Next thing I know, you'll be wearing matching outfits and joining the Marriage Initiative."

"I think I like him."

Ignoring Al's comment, Sam was going to reply to Brian's when he realized the other man was no longer beside him. Stopping abruptly, he turned around to find Brian frowning at him. "What?"

Brian's frown deepened. "You were planning to go somewhere else for breakfast today?"

Sam saw that Brian was standing in front of a diner and hurried back to walk inside with him. He wasn't surprised to find mostly men inside, and several obvious gay couples. He saw Al's uncomfortable expression and grinned a bit.

"What're you smiling at?"

Sam looked over at Brian and quickly lost the smile. "Sorry. Just, thinking."

Eyes rolling again, Brian headed for a mostly full table and Sam followed.

"Michael!"

Startled by a woman's voice calling his name, Sam didn't have to look far before an older woman with brilliantly red, curly hair bearing down on him. Her apron was a mass of colorful buttons and slogans, and there were a few multi-colored barrettes in her hair.

"Ah, that's your Mom, Sam. Michael's mother, Debbie Novotny," Al provided quickly.

Smiling, Sam greeted, "Mom! Hi."

"That's new," she commented, nodding to the sweater.

Did everyone know Michael's wardrobe? Sam shook his head. "No, it's Ben's."

She frowned, but only said, "It looks nice. You coming over later to help paint?"

"Ah, sure."

"With Ben?"

Well. Definitely didn't approve of Ben, though Sam couldn't understand why not. "Um, no?"

A sunny smile blossomed. "Good, I can have you all to myself then!"

Sam winced when she pinched his cheek.

"Sam! Sam get over here quick! That lech is harassing this young kid!"

Sam turned towards Al's voice and found the older man giving Brian a dirty look. Brian was spooned up behind a young man in an apron, probably about 17 or 18, but from the grin on the blond kid's face, it wasn't harassment. Or, at least not a harassment that he wasn't enjoying. He laughed when Debbie walked up behind them and smacked Brian upside the back of the head with her notepad .

"Leave Sunshine alone!"

Hands up in mock-surrender, Brian backed off, but not before stealing a kiss from the kid. Brian met his gaze, dark eyes bright and they both reached the table at the same time.

"Well good morning, Michael," a tall, slender man greeted almost primly. "You look positively glowing."

"He looks fucked," Brian corrected bluntly.

"He looks really well fucked," another man, slight with lighter brown hair amended enviously.

Blushing a little, Sam replied, "I, ah, I guess I am."

"Ew, Sam!"

"Hey, I think it's great," the first man said firmly.

The second shrugged. "At least half of us are in a decent relationship."

Half? Sam looked at Brian in surprise. He didn't seem the type to be in a relationship. But as he watched, Brian snaked an arm out and snagged Sunshine by the belt buckle, pulling the young guy onto his lap. Bright blue eyes stared into Brian's eyes adoringly and the look that Brian gave back could only be described as the same.

Sam straightened in surprise. This 30 year old, hard-edged man was in love with a 17 year old boy? How in the world had that happened?

"Sunshine! Need some help here!" Debbie called.

Brian tightened his arms around the kid's waist and nuzzled his throat, saying, "Ignore her, Justin, she'll go away."

Justin laughed and nipped Brian's lip. "Some of us have to work for a living. Leggo."

"I like you right where you are," Brian countered.

"Brian Kinney, you let him go this instant! We're busy!"

The Mom Tone instantly released Brian's arms from around Justin's waist, though the older man didn't look happy about it. Sam grinned. Mom's were the same the world over and apparently, Debbie was something of a mother to Brian as well as Michael.

Justin leered briefly at Brian before scooting out of range.

Sam laughed again and Brian gave him another odd look. "What is with you this morning? First I find you talking to yourself, then you react like Bruce Lee and you've been grinning like a loon all morning."

"Bruce Lee?"

"Talking to himself?"

Uh oh. "Brian just caught me by surprise. I was thinking out loud."

"Right," Brian agreed sarcastically. "He was talking to thin air. Like a crazy person."

Time to turn the tables, Sam thought. "So when are you and Justin joining the Marriage Initiative?"

Laughter and loud guffaws, not only from the two men at their table, but the surrounding ones as well. Sam grinned broadly at their reaction, but also at Brian's faint blush and growing irritation. "I'm sorry. Was this a bad time to ask?"

Brian reached across the table and shoved him. Sam returned the favor. Before it could escalate, Debbie arrived with their food and a glower.

"Don't you start that here. You break any dishes, and you pay to replace them," she stated firmly. It sounded like a familiar refrain.

Al stood beside Debbie and said, "I definitely like her."

"Here you are Emmet, and Ted, and Michael, and Brian."

Well, now he knew who was who.

A few minutes after Debbie left, Justin came by and sat down, pushing Brian further into the booth, much to Ted's obvious irritation. Justin leaned against Brian and asked, "Babylon tonight?"

"No. I am babysitting," Brian replied, his sour mood returning.

Justin grinned. "Cool. I'll help."

Brian waved him off with, "No, that's okay. Go have fun."

Justin kissed him under the ear. "It's only fun when you're there."

"Oh please," Ted groaned.

Emmet grinned and commented, "I think it's sweet."

It is sweet, Sam decided after a moment.

"But I think I'll go anyhow," Justin said, quickly getting up and out of reach.

"Justin!"

Brian's call went unheeded and Sam grinned. "Losing control over him already, I see."

Brian made a face. "Fuck off."

"My, we are witty today, Michael. Sex on a regular basis must improve the verbal comeback quotient," Ted commented with a grin.

"Or at least the regular come quotient," Emmet agreed, eyebrows wriggling.

"Uh oh, Sam, we need to talk."

Sam looked over at Al's serious statement, but found his friend eyeing Justin as the young man practically bounced to the counter to talk with Debbie. From their interaction, it was obvious that Debbie viewed Justin as another son and Justin was thrilled with the adoption. Made Sam wonder what sort of people would stop being family to such a bright and affectionate young man just because he was gay.

Al finally met his eyes and Sam nodded before looking back at Michael's friends. Emmet was giving him an odd look, but Ted was eating and Brian was wrapped up in watching Justin. Sam smiled at Emmet and the young man smiled back, but there was something off about it that set the warning bells inside Sam to ringing. "I'm just, I have to...I'll be right back."

Brian barely acknowledged his departure, but Ted and Emmet nodded as Sam stood. He glanced quickly for the restroom and walked towards it. He was thankful to find it a one-person room and locked the door behind him. Al walked through the wall and Sam jumped in fright then hissed, "Would you stop that!?"

Al grinned. "Now why would I want to do that?"

"What's wrong. What did Gooshie find out?" Sam demanded.

Somber, Al answered, "Sunshine, ah, Justin, Justin Taylor, that is, age 19, is murdered. They find his body in the back dumpster, behind this place, tomorrow."

"Oh, no!" Sam exclaimed.

Al nodded. "Yeah. The cop working the case is a real nozzle and barely does anything. The killer's never caught."

Sam could tell from Al's face that the murder had repercussions for everyone. "And?"

Growing even more serious, Al answered, "Debbie makes it a one-woman crusade to find his killer and winds up losing her job. Michael supports her, though, so it's not too bad. But the real impact is on Brian and Justin's mother and sister."

Sam was almost afraid to ask. "Why? What happens?"

"When it's obvious the killer's never going to be found," Al hesitated.

"What?"

"Justin's mom suffers from depression the rest of her life, becomes institutionalized. The sister lives with their dad and has a really crappy life. Marries too young and then goes on welfare. Brian Kinney...ah...he kills himself on Justin's birthday, next year. His note said something about celebrating the occasion."

"Oh no," Sam breathed.

Al nodded. "Yeah. Poor guy. He's really in love with that kid, isn't he?"

Sam met Al's eyes and said, "Yes, he is. And we've got to stop this from happening."

"Michael? Honey? Are you all right in there? We're starting a line out here."

Sam reached over and flushed the toilet to cover himself. He opened the door and found Debbie right there, in front of a couple of men, hands on her hips. "What? I'm done."

"You didn't wash your hands!"

Sam choked back a laugh and dutifully trooped back inside, giving his hands a quick wash.

* * * *

Sam approached Justin, took a seat at the counter, and waited for the young man to finish ringing up an order.

Justin flashed him a grin and leaned on the counter. "You going out tonight?"

Sam shook his head and answered, "Ah, no. Promised Mom I'd help paint. Aren't you going to help too?"

Grimacing, Justin said, "I offered, but she insisted she'd be fine. Probably because she was roping you into doing it."

"Probably," Sam agreed. "Ah, how about you help out anyhow?"

"Why?"

"Well, because...I could use the help. I kind of...um...Ben was a little..." Sam stopped, flushing. How on earth could he use that as an excuse with this clear-eyed kid?

Justin only laughed and said, "Got carried away, did he? Brian's like that sometimes. Okay, a lot. I think I've gotten used to it. He's spoiled me for other lovers."

Sam had to smile at the youthful enthusiasm, even as wry as it was. "So will you help me out tonight?"

"Sure. I'm going to stop by the loft first, get some grungy clothes to paint in. Want me to pick up a pizza?" Justin offered.

"Sam, that's not working. He must get picked up early by the killer," Al informed him.

Thinking quickly, Sam said, "How about I pick you up from work and we grab Chinese or something?"

Surprised, Justin paused, then shrugged. "Okay. I get off at three this afternoon. See you then?"

"It doesn't work, Sam."

Sam nodded, ignoring Al for the moment. "Sounds good."

Catching Al's eye, he waved goodbye to the others and left the diner. He crossed the street and picked a position with a good view of the diner, but was concealed from passers-by.

Al joined him and punched something into the hand-link. He walked to the open door and stood there, framed by solid white before saying, "Good idea. Stick to the kid like glue. I'm going back to the chamber and see if there's anything Michael can tell us that might help you."

Sam nodded and got settled on a broken crate. "Al."

Pausing, Al looked back at him. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about before. How I acted."

Uncomfortable, Al shrugged and replied, "No sweat."

"No, I mean it. I was being childish," Sam insisted. The last thing he wanted was to upset Al, and what he'd done before had been deliberately provoking. He'd played on Al's insecurities and that was wrong.

Al sighed. "I wasn't exactly the nicest guy either. Let's just move on, okay?"

Nodding, Sam agreed. "All right. Let me know what you find out from Michael."

For a moment, Al just gazed at Sam, almost as though memorizing him, then nodded abruptly and stepped through the door. When it closed behind him, Sam sighed and wished that just once, he could grip Al's hand, touch him to convey how much the other man meant to him.

Then again, considering his present assignment, the touch would probably be misconstrued. Sighing again, Sam turned his sights to the diner.

* * * *

When Al stepped out of the imaging chamber, he found Verbena waiting for him, a large grin on her face. That immediately put him on guard. "What?"

"Nothing. I just had a nice chat with Michael," she answered, dark eyes twinkling.

"Yeah, and?"

"And nothing. He's a well-adjusted, warm, caring, friendly and, ah, enthusiastic young man."

Al stared at her suspiciously enough that the black woman raised her hands. "I don't like where you're going with this, Verbena, wherever that may be."

Smiling mysteriously, Verbena headed towards her office and Al moved in the opposite direction to the waiting room. They needed more information about Justin, where he was likely to go and which routes he'd take to get there. Stepping into the plain white room adorned only with a bench-like couch for people to sit or sleep on, Al immediately found Michael on said sofa with a comic book between his hands.

Even after all this time, it was disconcerting to find Sam's face staring back at him when it obviously wasn't Sam inside the body. Though this was the closest match Al had seen in a good long while. The gaze was bright and warm, intelligent, and the smile ready.

Michael jumped off the couch, dropping the comic to the side, and approached Al. "Hey. You're Al, right?"

A bit surprised by the hand held out, Al paused before accepting the firm grip. "Yeah. Ah, good to meet you, Michael."

"You too," Michael agreed. "This is just way cool! I can't believe I'm in the future! I'm going to have something like this happen to Rage! He gets sent to the future where Gayopolis has become an even darker, more dangerous place and..."

"Michael!"

Michael drew back at Al's exclamation, then grinned. "Sorry. I get a little carried away sometimes."

Al couldn't help but return the grin. No wonder Sam felt so comfortable in this leap. Michael was a lot like Sam. He could remember plenty of nights where the scientist went on and on about the project. Those had been fun nights where Al had just sat back and watched the other man ramble on, drawing conclusions and leaping to new thoughts just because Al let him think out loud for hours at a time with only the occasional prompt. "That's all right. Did Verbena tell you, well, what did Verbena tell you?"

Returning to the sofa, Michael hopped on it and absently picked up the comic, facing Al. "That I've changed bodies with Dr. Beckett and he's in my time and I'm in the future."

"That's right," Al agreed. "Anything else?"

"No. What else is there? Nothing good, from your expression."

Startled, no one could read him that well except Sam, Al hesitated before saying, "It's your friend Justin."

Tensing, Michael asked quietly, "What about him?"

"He's, ah, he's going to be murdered," Al answered.

Michael's eyes closed in pain, his hand crumpling the comic. When his eyes opened again, anger was present, as well as grief. "It's Hobbes, isn't it? He finished the job, didn't he!?"

Latching onto the name, Al repeated sharply, "Hobbes? Who's that?"

"Chris Hobbes," Michael bit out. "He bashed Justin, put him in a coma. Then threatened him after, too."

Someone had put that kid in a coma? "We'll look into it, but the killer was never found."

"Oh fuck! How's Brian!?" Michael demanded, jumping down again.

Avoiding the question, Al said, "It hasn't happened yet, remember?"

Staring at him suspiciously, as though sensing the whole truth hadn't been revealed, Michael nodded. "Right. So, what can I do? I mean, I assume you need something from me to stop this?"

He really is a sharp kid, Al thought. "We're trying to keep Justin from being alone. If he's not by himself, then the killer can't get to him."

Michael snorted. "That's simple. Just get him together with Brian. They've gone for days sometimes, never mind just one night."

Uncomfortable, Al replied, "Brian's babysitting someone named Gus."

Frowning, Michael asked, "And Justin's not staying home to help?"

Home? "What, they live together?"

"Oh yeah," Michael replied blithely. "They've got an "open" relationship, but both of them are home by three every morning. Stupid, in my opinion, but it seems to be working."

The way Brian was using Justin ticked him off, but then, Justin would've had to go along with it if it was 'working,' as Michael said. Frowning, he asked, "You mean they ah, they...with other guys? Even though they're um...together?"

Hazel eyes narrowed at Al as Michael stepped forward, right into Al's personal space. "Let me guess. You don't like gay men."

Al stepped back reflexively at the heightened anger in Sam's...Michael's...eyes. Shaking his head, Al insisted, "It's fine! I don't, ah, personally hold anything against gays."

Hands on his hips, Michael said derisively, "Well I'm sure glad to hear that. It makes me so much better about being a gay man that you don't have anything against us. What about Dr. Beckett? Is he going to let Justin get murdered because he's queer?"

Anger at the insult to Sam surfaced immediately and Al exclaimed, "Of course not! Sam would never do anything like that!"

A thoughtful look entered Michael's eyes and he backed down. "All right. So what do you need from me?"

Breathing a little easier, though Michael was still too close for Al's comfort, Al answered, "A way to keep Justin occupied. Sam's picking him up after work, then they're painting a room at your mother's house. But that probably won't take long, even with Sam faking it."

Michael frowned. "Faking what?"

Clearing his throat, Al explained, "He's ah, he's claiming that your, that Ben was, um...too enthusiastic?"

Merriment sparkled from Michael as he said, "I'm sure he was. Wish I'd been there. Oh wait, did Dr. Beckett, um, is he all right? With that, I mean?"

Really uncomfortable now, and trying not to remember the feelings that had burst out upon finding Sam naked with another, with a man earlier, Al tried to hide it by stating flatly, "He's fine with it. Back to Justin, please?"

That thoughtful look returned and Michael moved forward a little. Al backed away the same space. An eyebrow quirked at the behavior, but Michael didn't comment, instead going back to the sofa. "The best thing to do is get Justin safely home to Brian. Really. Once there, nature will definitely take its course. And you're military, aren't you?"

Surprised by the accurate observation, and the change of topic, Al answered, "Navy, yeah. Rear Admiral Albert Calavicci.at your service."

Michael nodded. "Thought so. Married?"

"Divorced."

"Kids?"

"Four daughters."

"You didn't re-marry?"

Al scowled. "What is this, twenty questions? We're here about Justin, remember?"

Michael shrugged and said, "Just curious. Did you ever re-marry?"

"No. My life is pretty much the project. It has been for years," Al answered. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, feeling the sleep he'd missed keenly. He wasn't as young as he used to be. "Part of the reason for my divorce, actually."

Michael gestured for him to sit and, warily, Al did. "It sounds like important work."

Al half-smiled. "It is. Sam does so much good, helps so many people. Like Justin. And everyone who'd be affected by his death."

"Brian," Michael stated quietly.

Al nodded slowly and admitted, "Yeah. Brian."

"Were you in the military for long?"

"Most of my life. My career was in the toilet when Sam found me," Al reminisced with a half-bitter smile. "I was drinking back then. Beth, my ex-wife, had thrown me out until I was clean and sober, but I doubt I ever would have been if Sam hadn't pulled me back from the brink."

"So he's a good friend."

"The best."

Michael smiled and said, "Brian's like that for me. He's got this tough, fuck-off exterior that almost no one gets through. And he's had more sex than anyone I know. You should see him carve a path through Babylon when he's in the mood."

Laughing a little, Al commented, "Sounds a lot like me. Well, except for the sex with men part."

Not offended this time, Michael chuckled as well. "How long have you and Sam known each other?"

Sighing, Al thought about it and replied, "Well, we almost met when I was a POW in Viet Nam. Of course, he was in this soldier's body at the time and didn't know it was me, but if you count that, about thirty years. If you don't, then it'll be twenty-one years this spring."

"Wow. That's a long time."

"Yeah, yeah it is."

"That's longer than a lot of people have been married these days."

Snorting, Al said, "Sam lasted through six of my marriages the first time around. Once he got me and Beth back together, he was there for me through my divorce. Wow, that sounds weird, doesn't it? He was there for all the girls' graduations and danced with Sara, my oldest, at her wedding."

"You miss him."

"Yeah."

They were silent for a few minutes, then Michael bumped shoulders with Al and said, "When's he coming back? When does the project end?"

"It doesn't."

Eyes widening in surprise, Michael demanded, "What do you mean, it doesn't? What about Sam's life? Doesn't he get to have one?"

Al stood and took a breath. "We're not in control, Michael. Something else, something bigger is what's sending him from place to place."

Michael got up as well, agitated. "Well that sucks! If Sam's such a good guy and helps all these people, he should be able to live a regular life! Have someone to love and grow old with!"

Trying to stave off the rising emotions, from them both, Al gripped Michael's shoulder and soothed, "It's all right, Michael. Sam's fine with it."

"What about you? You deserve a regular life, too, you know," Michael voiced suddenly.

Al frowned. "What are you talking about? I have a life."

Michael shook his head and answered, "From where I'm sitting, you won't have a life until Sam comes back. You're so wrapped up in him that you don't even see it."

Confused, Al asked, "See what?"

"You're in love with him."

Al's jaw dropped open and his stomach hit the floor about the same time. "No, Michael, I'm not!"

"Yes you are," Michael insisted. "Jesus, Al, you live for him. You're so pale that I bet you haven't set foot outside this compound unless it had something to do with the project, since he disappeared."

Shaking his head, Al said, "I'm not in love with him! Sam's my best friend! You're seeing something that isn't there."

Michael snorted derisively and, before Al could move, grabbed the older man by the shirt and hauled him in for a kiss.

For a few seconds, Al couldn't think. He just felt Sam's familiar arms around him and that spicy, homey scent flooding him, and reacted. His hands clutched at Sam's waist and his mouth opened to the questing tongue. The need that he'd shoved down deep for years came roaring up for release and he moaned, desperate for more contact. Then, suddenly, he remembered that it wasn't Sam kissing him and shoved Michael away to run out of the room.

* * * *

At ten 'til three, Sam left his uncomfortable crate and crossed back to the diner. Finding Justin at the counter, Sam joined him there, sitting on a stool. Before he could say anything, Debbie came tearing out of the kitchen, jacket in hand.

"Michael! Thank God you're here! Vic fell, we have to get home and take him to the hospital!" Debbie exclaimed, grabbing his arm.

"But, ah, now?" Sam finished lamely, wondering who Vic was.

Astonished, and then furious, Debbie smacked the back of his head. "Yes, now! Jesus, Michael! Sunshine, do me a favor and hold down the fort, will you? We hopefully won't be more than a couple of hours."

Justin nodded with a salute. "No problem. Frank's in at six. I'll hang out until then. I hope Vic's okay."

Glaring at Sam, Debbie said, "I'm glad someone's worried. Move, Michael."

* * * *

Vic, as it turned out, was Michael's uncle, the one living with Debbie who had HIV. The moment Sam got a good look at him, he could see that the older man wasn't in great shape. The disease had obviously progressed to a higher level than it had with Ben, who seemed like he was in perfect shape.

It didn't take all that long to pick Vic up from the house and bring him to the hospital, but every minute not with Justin was one that could spell death for the young man and disaster for everyone involved. There were really two lives he was trying to save, after all, given Brian Kinney's suicide. Glancing at his watch every so often, Sam wondered where the hell Al was and what was taking so long.

"What is your problem today?" Debbie demanded. "You have somewhere more important to be?"

Yes! "No, of course not. I'm just...worried about Justin is all."

Debbie gave him an incredulous look. "Worried about Justin? What for?"

Sam hesitated then said, "Well, there's that, ah, didn't you hear about the gay kid that got killed in Philadelphia? I, I saw his picture in the paper and he looked a lot like Justin. And they haven't caught the killer yet."

Aghast, Debbie questioned, "You don't think, they don't think he might come here next!?"

Sam shrugged expansively. "They have no idea. Well, what little work they've done on the case. It didn't seem to me that they were trying all that hard to solve it."

Debbie's face hardened and she said, "Right. Because what's another dead queer."

Sam winced and tried to get the conversation back on track with, "That's why I was worried about Justin. He's the right age, and sure fits the ah, profile, of the victim."

"You call Sunshine right now! Make sure he's okay," Debbie ordered.

Sam nodded and pulled out his cell phone before realizing that he didn't have the phone number.

"412-555-4685."

Sam glanced gratefully at Al, then wished he had more time to keep looking because the older man looked terrible. Swallowing the impulse to ask, he showed the phone to Debbie and began dialing.

"Liberty Diner."

"Justin?" Sam asked.

"Nah, it's Frank. Justin just left. Is this Michael?"

Sam made a face and answered, "Yeah, it is. Did he say where he was going?"

"Gooshie, have Ziggy lock me on to Justin!" Al exclaimed.

"Yeah, to Brian's," Frank replied. "Said that he'd paint another night."

"Thanks."

Sam hung up on the man and got to his feet, facing Debbie. "Justin went to Brian's."

Relieved, Debbie sighed and settled back in her chair. Sam looked at Al, but the other man was still grim faced.

Shaking his head, Al informed him, "Nothing's changed, Sam. The kid must get picked up on the way to Brian's place. Gooshie! Now!"

Gripping Debbie's shoulder, Sam said, "I'm just going to make sure that Justin's okay."

Debbie frowned. "But he's going to Brian's."

"Yeah, but, he has to get there first," Sam winced mentally at her frightened look and kissed her forehead. "See ya, Ma. Here's money for a cab, okay?"

She nodded and squeezed his hand. "Just find him and make sure he's all right! I couldn't take anything happening to that boy."

"I know," Sam replied, smiling gently. Suddenly not sure if he'd see this wonderful woman again, he continued, "Thanks, Ma."

Surprised, Debbie asked, "For what?"

He kissed her cheek this time and said, "For being such a special woman."

Her smile was brilliant as she pinched his cheek. "Well, you're not exactly chopped liver yourself. Call me when you find him."

Sam nodded and left, striding across the hospital lobby, Al beside him.

"Gooshie's having trouble locking onto Justin," Al announced unnecessarily. "I've got Brian's address, so we can retrace the steps from the diner to the loft."

Sam nodded as he got in the car and pulled into traffic. Al appeared beside him, and Sam took another look at his friend. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing."

Taken aback by the terse reply, Sam didn't say anything else for several minutes. "Is Michael all right?"

"He's fine."

Pursing his lips, Sam surreptitiously observed Al, but couldn't put his finger on the problem. "Have you had problems sleeping again?"

Surprised, Al looked at him and asked, "How do you remember that?"

Sam grinned. "How would I not remember? You always have this pinched look around the eyes when you haven't been sleeping well. Or at all, for that matter."

Al sighed and looked out the window, but didn't respond.

Concerned for real now, Sam divided his time between looking for Justin and watching Al. There was definitely something wrong, and he knew it would take a lot to get it out of the officer. Al was nothing if not reticent about sharing his feelings. Though Sam had a suspicion that he knew in part what was bothering the older man. "I didn't know."

Strangely, a frightened look passed over the other man's face before he asked tightly, "Didn't know what?"

"This. About myself. That I could like men...sexually. Maybe I didn't even know when I didn't have a swiss-cheesed brain," Sam clarified. "I remember...there's a woman, isn't there? We...Donna! Yes, that's right! My wife, Donna. We got married right out of college and started working on Quantum Leap right away. So there was no need to question myself because I had someone to love, a woman to love."

Uncomfortable, Al didn't answer.

Taking his courage in his hands, Sam said, "I must be bisexual, that's the term, right? Otherwise I'd never have enjoyed what Ben was doing so much."

"Sam, please! Can we just look for Justin?" Al pleaded.

Disappointed, and a little afraid, Sam asked, "I've lost your respect because of this, haven't I? You've never been able to be around gays because you think the whole thing is wrong."

"No!" Al exclaimed. Without thinking, he tried to grip Sam's arm, but his hand passed through. Frustrated, Al said firmly, "That's not the problem. You aren't the problem, here, Sam."

Just as frustrated, Sam demanded, "Then what is?"

"I am! All right? It's me! I love you!"

The statement so shocked Sam that he almost drove off the road. Horns from other cars blared as he got things under control.

"Jesus, Sam, don't kill yourself!" Al exclaimed, dark eyes wide with fear.

Swallowing heavily, Sam kept his eyes on the road and asked faintly, "You love me?"

At first, Al didn't answer, just stared stonily ahead. Then, finally, he sighed and replied, "Yeah, Sam, I love you. I've been so wrapped up in you, for years, that my marriage went down the drain. I've been so obsessed with getting you home, that I was able to fool myself it was because you didn't deserve to bounce around for the rest of eternity. But then..."

"Then?" Sam prompted gently, heart racing.

"Then you kissed me. I mean, Michael kissed me in your body and all I could do was want more. But...I wanted it to be you," Al whispered.

All Sam wanted to do was take Al in his arms and tell him that everything was going to be all right. That they would figure out where to go from there. But he couldn't, because Al was a hologram to him and once this leap was through, he'd go somewhere else and probably forget this conversation ever happened.

Except...Al wouldn't forget. Al didn't have that luxury. He would remember and go on living half of a life because of his love for Sam. Maybe they'd even had this conversation before, could have had it a dozen times and it would be just like Al not to ever mention it, to keep his pain hidden because he thought that what Sam did was more important than his own feelings.

Anger rose at the thought. Anger and fury and rebellion. Sam closed his eyes briefly and he whispered hatefully, "No! Not again you son of a bitch! Don't do this again!"

Eyes wide, knowing exactly Who Sam was cursing, Al whispered, just a little fearfully, "Sam, don't! You don't know what will happen if you..."

"I don't care!" Sam shouted, pushed beyond his limits. He swerved to the side of the road, ignoring the other drivers, and turned to Al. "It's not fair! I go on my merry way without a care in the world, but you have to live with the knowledge that I might never get home. That I probably will never get home! Al, it's just not right!"

The anger gave way to sadness and longing. Al couldn't be described as anyone's wet dream, if you were talking strictly physical descriptions, but he was Sam's knight in day-glow overcoat. Al had always been there for Sam, he'd always done everything he could to make sure Sam was safe, and happy, and had everything he'd wanted, from day one. Al might think that Sam had saved him from drinking and throwing his life away, but Al had saved him from a life without passion and humor. Donna had loved him, but she'd been just as focused on work as Sam, never taking time out for life.

Reaching out with his hand, Sam cupped Al's face, though of course there was nothing to keep his hand there.

Dark eyes stared back at him in wonder as Al whispered, "You love me, too."

Not trusting himself to words, Sam nodded. They stayed like that for a long time, then, suddenly, Al flinched and exclaimed, "There he is! Sam!"

Sam jolted into action, yanking off his seatbelt and rushing after Justin. He could just barely see the young man walking on the sidewalk almost two blocks up when the blond head disappeared into an alley. Putting on a burst of speed, Sam made it to the alley just in time to find a man straddling Justin, hands around his neck. Sam tackled the killer and they went down in a flurry of limbs.

They wrestled, trading punches and kicks in a too-confined area. Finally, Sam got the upper hand and slammed the other man's head into the pavement, knocking him out. Breathing heavily, Sam crawled over to Justin, searching for a pulse. Upon finding one, he collapsed against the younger man and tried to get his wind back.

Sam was just about back to normal when the killer sprang to his feet and ran away. Sam got up to follow him but then realized that Justin probably needed medical attention. The hesitation was enough to let the killer get away and Sam ground his teeth in frustration and anger at himself.

"Sam!? You all right?" Al exclaimed.

Sam nodded and answered, "I'm fine, Al. What happens?"

Al kept his eyes trained on Sam for another few seconds, then echoed the nod and looked down at his hand-link. "Justin's safe. He lives and Brian doesn't kill himself. Get this, Ziggy says that it's mathematically impossible to figure out whether or not Justin and Brian actually stay together given how frequently they break up and get back together again."

Sam laughed in relief and knelt beside Justin, who was starting to stir.

"Debbie doesn't lose her job, but she does take it upon herself to find the killer, who unfortunately, does strike here in a few days and still leaves the victim's body in the dumpster for her to find," Al reported sadly.

Frowning, Sam asked, "If everything works out, then why am I still here?"

Al shrugged. "We don't know."

"So...I just stick around?" Sam asked, half-grinning.

With a snort, Al replied, "Until Ziggy can figure out how to add two plus two, yeah. Hey, consider it a vacation. It's certainly colorful enough around here to be one."

"Ow, my head," Justin moaned.

Sam knelt beside the young man and asked, "Are you all right?"

Squinting up at him, Justin answered, "Uh, yeah, I think. What happened and who are you?"

Eyebrow raised, Sam glanced at Al who shrugged. "I'm Sam, and someone tried to mug you I think. C'mere, let me help you up."

Sam helped Justin to his feet and held onto him until he seemed steady enough on his own.

"Thanks," Justin said, holding his head. "I appreciate the help."

Smiling, Sam replied, "No problem. Did you need a ride somewhere?"

Justin shook his head. "I...no, my, my boyfriend's meeting me at the diner. It's just a block or so away."

"All right. You take care of yourself," Sam admonished.

Smiling somewhat painfully, Justin nodded and headed out of the alley.

Sam watched him go then asked Al, "How long before he sees me as Michael again?"

Al punched a few things into his hand-link and answered, "Ziggy says you should be fine if you wait about a half-hour."

Nodding, Sam hesitated then questioned, "What about you?"

A mask slid into place as Al countered, "What about me?"

Not letting the military mask throw him, Sam asked, "Are you going to be all right?"

Al sighed and said, "I'll be fine. It's not like there's anything we can do about it. I do kind of wish that Michael hadn't gone and taken away my self-delusion, but it probably wouldn't have lasted all that much longer anyhow."

"It's not fair," Sam repeated.

Quirking a grin at him, Al pointed out, "Since when is life fair? Only since you've been leaping around. I figure, if I have to lose you to something, at least it's to a good cause. Look, do you mind if I go and catch some Z's?"

Seeing the true exhaustion on the other man's face, Sam shook his head. "No, go ahead. I'll just head on to the diner and make sure Justin and Brian connect."

Al nodded and punched something into the hand-link. The door slid open and he hesitated, but went through it.

Sam watched the door close and swallowed against the tightness in his throat. It wasn't fair...to either of them.

He looked up at the sky and, meaning each word with every fiber of his being, Sam said simply, "I quit."

Nothing. No fireworks, no glow to bring him home, not even a hum out of the ordinary. Sighing, Sam left the alley.

* * * *

"Mikey! Did you hear the excitement?"

Sam smiled at Brian and shook his head, sitting beside Ted in the booth. Justin was on Brian's lap across the table from them and it looked like nothing short of a tsunami was going to move him. Of course, Brian's hands were laced together around Justin's waist in such a way as to make sure the young man didn't go anywhere, either. There was a baby in a car seat on the table, the 'munchers' baby that Brian was supposed to be sitting for, Sam assumed. Sam took a second to play with the baby, letting tiny hand grip his index finger.

"Someone tried to mug Justin but he was rescued by a handsome and mysterious stranger," Brian continued. His voice was halfway between teasing and hard, as though he'd like to get his hands on the mugger and show him a thing or four.

Sam wished that he could oblige Brian. "That's terrible! Are you okay, Justin?"

Justin finally peeked out from Brian's shoulder and nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. Got a bump on the head, but that's it."

"Good," Sam said. He unbuckled the baby and picked him up, cradling the boy in his arms.

"Hey. I've never seen you and Gus get along that well," Brian commented with a frown. "Come to think of it, you only hold him when Linds shoves him at you."

Not looking up from the innocent blue eyes holding his, Sam answered, "Must be a full moon."

"Must be."

Sam didn't miss the suspicion in Brian's voice, but ignored it since there was nothing he could do about it.

"So how's Vic?" Ted asked, nudging him.

Sam finally looked away from Gus and grinned. "Fine. Mom overreacted. It was just a light sprain."

"Deb overreact? There's a shocker," Brian observed. Justin shifted and whispered something in Brian's ear, who nodded. "We're going back to the loft. You boys stay out of trouble, now."

It was a few minutes before they were up and the baby settled back into the car seat. When they were gone, it was just Sam and Ted. He looked at the other man and asked, "So what were you going to do tonight?"

"Well, being foot-loose and fancy free, I thought I'd go down to Babylon for my weekly dose of rejection," Ted answered with a grin. "Emmet's going to meet me there. What about you? You and Ben have plans tonight?"

Sam shook his head, trying not to think about Michael's lover. "No, not that I know of."

"Why don't you come with us then?" Ted suggested. "You've been holed up with lover-boy forever!"

Shrugging, Sam thought, Why not?

Babylon turned out to be a thriving maelstrom of gay hormones and the second Sam walked in the door, his lips teased into a grin. He'd never been in a gay dance club before, or, if he had, he didn't remember it. The music was pounding, men were practically on top of each other because it was so full and near-naked dancers crowded the dance floor.

"Come on!" Ted shouted over the noise.

Sam nodded and followed the other man through to a slightly less crowded area by the bar where Emmet was waiting.

"Mikey! I didn't expect to see you!" Emmet exclaimed, giving him a hug.

Sam returned the hug and stepped back with, "How are you?"

Emmet grinned and struck a flamboyant pose with, "Oh, just fine, you know me! Why I've gotten three offers tonight and the night is young yet."

Sam laughed at the other man's enthusiasm. He personally wasn't one for nameless sex, at least he was pretty sure he wasn't, but Emmet was obviously pleased with his success. His good mood dimmed a little as he thought about not being able to be with Al, about forgetting everything that had passed between them in this leap.

"What's wrong?"

Looking over at the still smiling Emmet, Sam shook his head and answered, "Nothing! Ted, tell him about Justin."

"What about Justin?" Emmet demanded.

Successfully having diverted Emmet, Sam returned to his thoughts, leaning against the wall.

"You want to dance?"

Sam shook his head and answered automatically, "Sorry, but I'm with someone."

"Yeah, I know."

Startled by the hand on his waist, Sam looked up and found Ben smiling down at him. Oh, boy. How on earth was he going to handle being with Ben, when his heart was screaming for him to pull away? Forcing a smile, he greeted, "Hey, you."

Ben tugged him into an embrace and kissed him lightly. "Hey yourself. I was hoping to find you here."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. How about we go have a nice dinner, then head back to my place for dessert?" Ben offered, nibbling his ear.

Sam couldn't help the shiver that ran through him. "Dinner sounds good."

Emmet and Ted waved good bye as Ben steered Sam to the exit.

* * * *

Al's fingers drummed impatiently against the steering wheel but he didn't move. He was parked outside Beth's home and waiting for her to get back from work. Finally, after a three hour vigil, her small, dependable car drove into the driveway and she got out. Getting out of his own car, Al called out, "Beth!"

Startled, she turned and almost tripped, but he raced the last of the way and caught her. They shared a fairly breathless smile and he released her, stepped back.

"Al! What on earth are you doing here?" Beth asked, still smiling.

Uncomfortable now, Al answered, "I need to ask you something."

Concerned, Beth nodded and said, "Go ahead."

"Well, maybe not ask so much as discuss," Al amended.

"All right."

"Can we go inside?"

Bemused, she nodded and took out her keys, walking with him up the front path to the door. Once inside, she set down her bag and motioned for him to take a seat on the couch.

Al didn't, too nervous about the coming conversation to sit still. Instead, he faced her and blurted out, "I'm in love with Sam."

Dark, delicate eyebrows arched and something like amusement surfaced in her eyes as Beth answered, "I was wondering when you'd figure it out."

Al's jaw dropped and he demanded, "You knew?"

Snorting, Beth replied, "Al, how could I not know? You spent almost every spare second you had with him. His project became your crusade. It's because of Sam that you still have a career. You got clean for him, not for me and the girls. I always thought your attitude towards gays a little too vocal to be real, a, 'he doth protest too much,' kind of thing."

Stunned, Al dropped onto the couch. "So, it wasn't because of my hours that you divorced me."

Beth sat beside him, gently took his hand in hers. "I couldn't stay married to a man who was in love with someone else, even if he didn't know it. You never cheated on me, Al, and I'm thankful for that. You respected our marriage. You never would have allowed yourself to know your own feelings if we'd remained married. So I divorced you. But don't think it was a totally selfless act, either. I needed to be free to find my own way, and my own love, even though you would always be in my heart."

Guilt ran through him and Al whispered, "I'm so sorry, Bethie. I didn't mean for anything like this to happen."

She kissed his cheek, squeezing his hand. "I know. But love's like that. Just when you think you've got your life figured out, your heart gets in the way."

Sighing heavily, Al nodded and agreed, "I feel like a first class nozzle, here."

Chuckling, Beth replied, "That's just because you're not used to the idea yet. And you're irritated about being the last to know."

Al snorted. "You got that right."

They sat there for a minute before Beth questioned, "So what now? Has he returned? Is that why the sudden realization?"

Shaking his head, Al answered, "No. Nothing's changed. Well, not on that front anyhow."

"I'm sorry," she said, bringing his hand up to kiss. "You deserve to be happy, Al, no matter what you might think. And you and Sam have had my blessing for at least a decade if that's what you came here for."

A rueful smile crossed his face as Al replied, "I guess I did. Are you happy, Bethie? This new guy treats you good?"

Beth nodded and said, "I am and yes, he treats me wonderfully."

"Good. So. I guess I should, ah..."

Beth stood, dragging Al to his feet as well, her smile growing. "Go on back to the base. I'm surprised you lasted this long without shriveling up from lack of contact."

Grinning, Al brought her close for one, last kiss then released her. "I'll see you next week for Jessie's birthday party."

Beth walked him to the door and said, "If you could bring Sam with you, that would be wonderful."

Wistfully, Al agreed, "Yeah, it would."

* * * *

Once inside Ben's apartment, Sam had no idea what to do. Ben had been overly affectionate all night, holding his hand across the dinner table and complimenting him on various, little things. He was every bit the caring, attentive lover and somehow, Sam had to let him down gently. Of course, he had to do it in such a way that Michael and Ben's relationship didn't suffer, either.

"Wine?" Ben asked from the kitchen.

Sam shook his head then, belatedly, added, "No thanks."

Ben peeked out from the other room with a frown. "Beer?"

"No, I'm good, really," Sam assured him.

"Are you all right?" Ben asked, coming out of the kitchen. "You've been skittish all night."

Sam avoided his grasp and replied, "I'm fine."

"Not when you're acting like I'm going to hit you," Ben said flatly. "What happened?"

Maybe a little of the truth would actually worked, if he was careful about it. "Justin was attacked today."

"I know, you told me at dinner."

Sam shook his head and continued, "I'm, ah, I was the one who saved him."

Ben's jaw dropped open.

Plowing on, Sam said, "I didn't even think. I saw the guy over him with his hands on Justin's throat and tackled him. We, ah, we fought and he got in a few punches. They hurt more than I thought they would so, I don't think I'm really up for anything tonight."

Worry crossed Ben's face and he stepped closer, "Are you sure you're all right? Why didn't you say anything? Let me take a look at you, come into the bathroom where the first aid kit is."

Sam allowed Ben to tug him carefully into the bathroom and pulled off his shirt with a hiss of pain. His ribs really did hurt, after all. Looking down, he saw bruises and winced as Ben lightly ran his fingers over them. "I didn't say anything because I didn't want to worry you. But, of course, I didn't even think about when we got here, that you'd see the bruises."

Ben looked up at him from his kneeling position and smiled, his love so easy to read in expressive blue eyes that Sam felt his throat close up. Michael was so lucky.

"My very own super hero," Ben murmured, capturing his hand and kissing the knuckles.

"You can't tell anyone. I'll never live it down," Sam guessed.

Ben's smile grew. "Your secret is safe with me. God, I bet you've been waiting to hear that your whole life."

Chuckling, Sam replied, "Now what makes you say that?"

"Come on, I'll tape you up. Then you're going to take some advil and we're going to bed. You can use your favorite pillow."

Sam submitted to the cosseting and really, he had to admit to enjoying it. He honestly couldn't remember the last time someone had done it for him. He got hurt a lot, but there was never anyone there to pick up the pieces. Not that he was usually around long enough to need it, but that was beside the point. Mutinously, he muttered, "I quit!"

Startled, Ben looked at him and asked, "What?"

"Oh, ah, nothing. Just thinking out loud," Sam covered weakly.

"You've been doing that a lot, lately," Ben observed, finishing the bandaging.

Sam shrugged, then wished he hadn't. "There's been a lot on my mind."

Ben kissed his chest then stood, drawing Sam up into a loose hug. "Well. Let's get you into bed, Boytoy Wonder and you can tell me all about it."

Chuckling, Sam waited for the other man to leave then closed the bathroom door. Looking at Michael's reflection in the mirror, he whispered, "I hope you know how lucky you are."

* * * *

It was less than a half hour later that Sam was tucked into bed and against Ben's side, his sore ribs not protesting once they found a good position and stayed put. It was in the warm safety of Ben's arms that Sam felt the lack of his own freedom most keenly. He generally didn't have time to even think about it, let alone dwell on it, but it had been fifteen years since he'd done anything under his own volition.

He didn't begrudge a single life that he'd changed for the better, was glad that he'd been part of something that was so much bigger than him, but he was tired, tired to the bone and wanted the right arms to be holding him for a change.

"So what's wrong?"

Sam sighed and replied, "I don't know."

Ben chuckled softly. "You're lying. C'mon, Michael, you can trust me. I know you're true identity, after all."

"I'm tired," Sam said simply. He felt tired enough for tears, but hoped that he could sleep instead.

Ben silently pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Then sleep, my love. Sleep your fill. Things will look better when you wake up."

Sam closed his eyes, praying the Ben was right.

* * * *

Al was talking to Michael when it happened. One minute he was listening to the kid talk about the adventures of Captain Astro in agonizing detail, and the next a familiar blue glow encased Sam's body as it fell back onto the couch.

Sighing, Al crossed to the couch and looked down, wondering who would look out at him this time. For a very, very long time, the eyes didn't even shift and just as Al began to get nervous that something had gone wrong, the hazel orbs opened to stare blankly at him. Getting his spiel together, Al was disconcerted when Sam smiled at him and lost his train of thought.

Jeeze. This guy was an even closer match to Sam than Michael had been.

"Hi Al. You look terrible, but what a great dream, I never dream about you. Don't think I dream any more," Sam murmured, closing his eyes again.

Al's jaw dropped open and he felt slightly faint. Reaching out a shaking hand, he let it hover above Sam's shoulder as he gasped hoarsely, "Sam? Is it you?"

Sam tensed up instantly, his body freezing into immobility. Then his eyes opened again and he saw Al standing there, hand shaking, and the tableau broke. He bolted off the sofa to his feet and grabbed Al tight, making sure that it wasn't a dream. The familiar scent of cigars was absent, but it didn't seem as though Al had changed his cologne in the last fifteen years because it surrounded Sam, telling him that he really was home. The added tactile sensation of holding the compact body, and being held in return, helped a lot. "Oh my God, you're real, I'm not dreaming!"

Al's arms wrapped around Sam and he held on just as tight, reassuring himself that the soul inside matched the body. It seemed that even the breathing pattern felt right as Sam's breath tickled warmly against Al's ear. "You're here, you're really here!"

It seemed only a split second later that the room was filled with laughing and shouting people driven to separate them in their enthusiasm at having Sam back. Al lost his hold on Sam within moments, no matter how tightly they clung to each other. He then found himself pushed to the back of the crowd and, though he grumbled, Al couldn't stop the shit eating grin on his face.

Sam was back. He was really, really back. The rest could wait.

* * * *

Sam quickly lost hold, and sight, of Al in the throng of people welcoming him back. Verbena was there, Gooshie, Tina and Ziggy chimed in now and then just to make sure that he hadn't forgotten her. On top of the close friends he hadn't seen in fifteen years, were the friends and acquaintances who'd made Quantum Leap possible.

It was a couple of exhausting hours later that Verbena shooed everyone away with the need to examine Sam and make sure that he was as all right as he appeared to be. Al fell into step with them on the way to the infirmary, where the medical doctor instantly took over. Sam was soothed by the fact that Al was never more than a few feet away, even if a curtain separated them.

Halfway through the exam, it occurred to Sam to wonder why Donna hadn't been among those to welcome him home.

When the doctor was done and the curtain removed, Al was standing right where he'd planted himself. The attitude was, 'Don't even think about trying to get me to leave.' and so far, it had worked. The medical staff was pointedly avoiding the Admiral. Verbena was there as well, though she was sitting down and drinking a soda while she waited.

Sam approached them both and asked, "Where's Sammie?

Smiling broadly, Verbena replied, "She's on a book tour at the moment, but I'll call her to let her know that you're back."

Sam nodded, smiling warmly at the thought of his daughter. The daughter he'd never had a chance to hold or even see in person, but who had been working on the project to get him home for a number of years. Some of the warmth faded as he questioned softly, "And Donna?"

When Al's face fell, Sam realized how it must sound to the other man, but this was something that had to be taken care of, right away.

Verbena assumed a soothing expression and replied, "I'm sure Gooshie called her right away to let her know that you were back."

Sam shook his head and repeated, "Where is she? Why isn't she here? Just tell me the truth, 'Bena, please."

Sighing, Verbena explained, "She left, Sam. She gave up hope that you were ever going to make it back and left about five years ago."

Though it had been the answer Sam expected, it still hurt. "Are we divorced?"

Verbena nodded sadly. "I'm so sorry, Sam. I told her not to make any irrevocable decisions, but she just...she couldn't handle the waiting anymore."

"No, that's...it's all right," Sam assured her, glancing at Al. The officer had donned his military mask, which told Sam just how hurt the older man was. "Al, would you show me to my quarters? I can't quite remember where they are."

Al agreed with a nod and headed for the door.

"'Bena," Sam said quietly, catching her arm.

Dark eyes regarded him curiously and Sam smiled. "Thank you for your dedication and support, both to myself and Al. I have just one further imposition."

"Anything, Sam."

He leaned in close and whispered, "Please make sure that Al and I aren't disturbed by anyone or anything for at least seventy-two hours. And, ah, see if you can head off Gooshie at the pass about calling Donna."

The smile on her face was as pleased and satisfied as a cat with a big bowl of ice cream as she nodded. "You've got it, Dr. Beckett. And may I offer my congratulations?"

"Thanks, 'Bena," Sam said, kissing her cheek. "I think I'm the luckiest man on the planet just now."

She winked and added, "You could do worse. Of course, you could do better, too."

Laughing, Sam joined Al at the door and they fell easily into step together.

"What was all that about?" Al asked curiously.

Sam grinned and replied, "Nothing major, Admiral."

Snorting, Al said, "Right. Come on, Doctor, time for you to get some decent shut-eye."

Sam groaned, "My own bed! Oh God! Al, you can't know how wonderful it'll be to sleep in my very own bed for as long as I choose to sleep!"

With a chuckle, Al commented, "I can imagine."

"So who is it this week?" Sam asked casually.

Al glanced at him as they paused in front of the elevator. It opened and, once inside, Al hit the sub-level where their quarters were located. "Who is what this week?"

"You're current flavor," Sam clarified. "Anyone I know?"

Sam almost felt mean about the subterfuge, but he had to know how Al felt for real. Now that there was no distance between them. Now that there was no chance that Sam would disappear and forget. Now that they had a chance for a real life, Sam had to know if Al wanted to live with his words, or forget they ever happened.

Al shrugged and replied, "No one. Haven't had any flavors in a while."

"That doesn't sound like you."

"Getting old, Sammie, just don't have the same charms I used to," Al observed wryly.

Arching an eyebrow at Al as they stepped off the elevator, Sam countered, "I doubt that."

"Hey, I'm going to have to stick to calling you Sam or it'll get confusing when Sammie comes back," Al said suddenly.

Sam chucked and commented, "I think we'll be able to tell who you're yelling for."

"Yelling for? I don't yell for anyone," Al exclaimed indignantly.

"Okay. Excuse me while I move so that the lightening doesn't strike me," Sam teased.

Al grumbled under his breath, but they reached Sam's quarters before he could come up with a good comeback. "Here we are."

Pressing his palm against the plate beside the door, it opened with a woosh and a, "Welcome home, Father."

Grinning, he stepped inside and replied, "Thank you, Ziggy. Engage privacy mode Alpha, please."

"As you wish."

Sam looked back at Al to find him hovering on the doorstep. "Well? In or out, Admiral?"

It was a loaded question, and they both knew it. After another hesitation, Al almost gingerly stepped inside and jumped when the door shut behind him automatically.

"You okay, Al?" Sam asked solicitously, moving closer.

Al backed up a couple of paces, but nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Shrugging, Sam looked around and shook his head in wonder. "Nothing's changed."

"I wouldn't let them," Al admitted. He moved further in and sat on the sofa, closing his eyes tiredly. "Basically, I let them clean and keep it dust free, just in case, well for now. When you came home. But that's it. I figured that after everything you've gone through, you deserve at least one constant in your life."

Sam sat on the couch beside Al, careful to keep some distance between them. "I have one constant in my life that I can think of, Al, and this room isn't it."

"Ziggy?" Al offered weakly.

Shaking his head, Sam slowly moved closer.

"Gooshie's bad breath?"

Another head shake and a few more inches closer.

"Ah, Verbena?"

Sitting almost on top of Al, Sam stared into the wide, dark eyes and deliberately shook his head one last time. "It's you, Al. It's always been you. Do you know what I remember from that last leap?"

Al swallowed heavily and whispered, "No."

"You. Telling me that you loved me."

"Oh, boy."

Amused, Sam pointed out, "That's my line."

"It's a good one."

Before either could chicken out and move, Sam leaned in and pressed his lips to Al's. For a moment, they were frozen like that, in a hideously awkward position, then Sam found himself flat on his back, covered by Al's wiry body and being kissed to within an inch of his life. Moaning with need, and desperately wishing that the damned jumpsuit had a zipper, Sam opened his legs and Al settled between them.

The kiss gentled, but continued just about nonstop. Sam was given a few opportunities to steal some breaths, but that was about it. Though smaller than him, Al was determined and strong. Not that Sam wanted to move, because he didn't. Then, suddenly, Al was shaking in his arms and it wasn't with passion. Sam immediately encircled his lover in a strong embrace, holding and soothing him.

Al lay flush against Sam, his face buried in the hollow of Sam's throat and shoulder as he said, his voice muffled, "This isn't real. I'm dreaming and I'm gonna wake up alone in a couple minutes."

The pain Sam heard just made his arms tighten and he added a leg to the mix. "I'm never leaving you again, Al, I swear. I'm not going anywhere unless you're right with me. In person, at my side, preferably joined at the hip."

Al snorted, calming down somewhat.

"Tell you what," Sam continued. "How about we just take it easy for a while. We're both drained emotionally and physically. I told Verbena to make sure we weren't disturbed for any reason for seventy-two hours, and the privacy mode will ensure that."

Looking up at him, Al said, "That sounds good."

Sam gently kissed him then slapped him on the ass. "Move, then."

Squawking indignantly, Al got up, waiting for Sam to move before twining their fingers together. "It's just so weird, having you here. Like I need to pinch myself. Ah, ah, ah, Dr. Beckett, keep your hands where I can see them."

With a laugh, Sam dragged Al towards the bedroom. Once there, he hesitated and asked, "Did you want...how did you want to do this?"

Wriggling his eyebrows suggestively, Al replied, "Horizontally?"

Sam laughed again and said, "Very funny. You know, I can't undress with our hands like this."

Al paused then sighed dramatically. "If you must."

"Make yourself useful and get me out of this thing," Sam ordered happily. It felt like he'd worn the plain white, one-piece jumpsuit forever.

Al's hands caressed his back before unhooking the jumpsuit and helping Sam peel out of it. Breathing easier when it was on the ground and he was only dressed in boxers, Sam kicked it away and turned to Al, surprised to find the other man staring at him. Self-conscious, Sam asked, "What? What is it?"

Looking up, Al just shook his head. "You're, well, beautiful, Sam. What the hell do you see in me?"

"Well that's an easy one," Sam teased lightly, knowing that he was treading on thin ice. "I see a strong man, and a good one, that I love with all my heart. The gray is very distinguished, by the way, and I love that you've gotten rid of the cigar. I want you around for a long time, the rest of my life."

Al swallowed heavily and said, "You deserve more than me, Sammie. I'm a broken down soldier who's going to retire in about five years. You deserve...someone who's your equal, for one, and I can never keep up with you mentally. And physically, we both know that I've got, ah, problems from old injuries."

Sam traced his finger from Al's temple to chin and leaned in for a long, slow kiss. "You're exactly what I deserve, Al. You complement me in so many ways, I can't even count them."

Flushing, Al tried to look away, but Sam wouldn't let him. "It's all right to be happy, Al, I promise. You deserve that and so much more."

"I don't even have a clue what to do here," Al muttered.

Ah. The Calavicci pride in the bedroom, definitely a consideration. "Well, I'm pretty sure we can figure out most of it on our own. But we could always call up Brian and ask for tips on the complicated stuff."

Al stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then guffawed. When he was done laughing, Al wagged a finger at him and said, "All right. Enough with the ego stripping, please. I don't think I can take much more. Into bed, Dr. Beckett. It's time for you to catch up on your sleep."

Sam grinned and headed for the large bed, not surprised to find the sheets fresh and clean. He had just gotten settled when Al reached the other side and stood there uncertainly. Sam smiled and lifted up the blankets. Relieved, Al just about dove under the covers. It took them a while to get settled, but finally, Sam lay mostly on his side, resting his head on Al's chest with Al's arms surrounding him.

Though beyond tired, he didn't really want to go to sleep, afraid that it really was a dream.

Al's arms tightened around him and soft lips touched Sam's temple. "Go to sleep, Sammie, I'll be here when you wake up."

Trust Al to know exactly what he needed to hear. He kissed the bare chest and murmured, "Love you, Al."

A soft rumble of laughter under his ear before Al echoed, "Love you, too, Sammie, now sleep."

Feeling secure and free for the first time in a very long time, Sam fell asleep in his lover's arms.

* * * *

Michael woke with a start, then groaned in pain. Why did his ribs hurt? And how the hell had he missed the end of making love with Ben? There was something teasing along the edge of his mind, but it wouldn't quite come into focus.

"Michael? Everything all right?" Ben asked sleepily.

Yawning, Michael nodded and settled back against Ben with a wince. They were going to have to try a different position next time because obviously, that one didn't agree with him.

Strangely, as he headed back into sleep, Michael had the thought that Rage needed to go into the future to help reunite two lovers who were being kept apart by some unknown entity. Yawning again, Michael made a note to talk it over with Justin and then fell back to sleep, secure in his lover's arms.

END