ARDUINNA: "Reach Out And...."
Sam is home for good. On his day off, Al visits him and finds him fixing his car.
|Sam just chuckled again and kept working. The silence that grew was easy, and Al, relieved at being let off the hook, cautiously let himself enjoy the view again. Hell, he'd had enough practice at not letting Sam know what he was doing all these years. If only it were still as simple as it had been while Sam was leaping.... I didn't mean, it, God! he thought frantically. It's better with him home, always, always. I don't want him to leap again, ever. Please, don't ever let him leap again.|
|All those years of never being able to touch, of always having to put a good face on it no matter what was happening, of being Sam's only link to reality -- he never wanted to go through that again. All those years of looking, and wanting, and falling in love, and never being able to say or do anything about it. Never being able to touch.|
|This is a sweet story
that unfolds with little angst - my favourite kink.
Sam leaps into Michael, a man that the young Al (Bingo) was a POW with in Vietnam, who is dying of leukaemia
|He threaded his fingers through my hair, holding my head gently while we both recovered. I had nearly drifted off when he murmured, "Jeez, Mike, I don't think you ever got into it that much before."|
|Despite myself, I jumped, reminded too vividly that who I had been making love to hadn't been making love to me. It had never hurt so much before, and I stayed where I was so that he couldn't see my face. And my Al, damn him, left in a quick blaze of a door opening and closing, without saying a single word to me|
|There is lots of
lovely emotion and angst in this one, especially when
Sam starts to show symptoms of leukeamia himself.
|RHYDER, PFAIN: "Can't Cry Hard Enough."|
Is Sam really leaping around in time or is the reality that he's a delusional inmate in a mental institution where Al is his doctor.?
|He disrupted the other patients with his elaborate fantasy world, sometimes forcing them to play along, until we had to drug him again. He was so convinced of his truth, nothing could budge him, not even electro-shock. Let me get it straight right from the start--I was against it. As far as I'm concerned, it's an archaic torture device that has no place in modern psychiatric treatment. But I was over-ruled. They were willing to try almost anything on this one. The hopeless case.|
|It's hard to find good
Quantum Leap so I was thrilled to find this little
mindfuck of a story. It was a very interesting
premise and I enjoyed it throughly.
Sam leaps into a sax player called Dusty - and spends a night with a young Al in 1959.
|When, finally, I could speak, what I said was blazingly unoriginal|
|"Al, I love you." I hadn't meant to say it at all, but I couldn't stop myself. "Remember that, no matter what happens. Remember it all your life, whoever you're with, wherever you are. Remember that tonight I told you I loved you. One day it just might mean something to you."|
|"It means something now," he said, dreamily, as my uncertain hands traced a path to his groin. "It means a lot. Thank you for tonight, Dusty. Thank you."|
|This is a lovely story
and I really like the bittersweet tone that pervades the
SUE: "The Last Measure Of Devotion."
Al is becoming increasingly worried about Sam, who is distancing himself and accuses Al of spying on him. Al is afraid, and worried that Sam is losing himself amongst the endless leaps. To give Sam something to hold on to, he tells him they have been lovers for the last 15 years, but inevitably the lie snowballs and disrupts both their lives in the past and the future.
|"Perhaps we should think about letting him go."|
|His eyes flew to hers, and she saw the same panic she'd seen in that crisis-meeting. "What?"|
|"I'm only wondering if we should try to stop thinking of Sam as a prisoner out there in Time, and accept that leaping may be his way of life, permanently. And if that were so--" she forestalled his objection, "--it would be better for him if he does learn to forget the life he's left behind here, and think of himself more as a 'lonesome traveler' than an exile."|
|His face held nothing but denial, but she saw his mind working. He loved Kerouac and all that freedom culture, and his own life was a testimony to it, despite all of his half-hearted attempts at domestic stability.|
|"There is beauty in that kind of life," she said, "No-one knows better than you. To meet, fall in love or have an intense friendship, then move on - sometimes those relationships are the sweetest of all."|
|"'Be passers-by'," he murmured, staring at nothing. Then he recalled himself. "No, that's not Sam's way. He needs roots."|
|This is a long and
involved story with lots of plot and lots of angst as
well. I love the way the two end up together and I
love the scene with Beeks at the end.