POI fic: POI Quantum Leap Fusion AU: Ghosts Leap
TITLE: Ghosts Leap
AUTHOR: whomii2
DISCLAIMER: do not own
SUMMARY: “I'm a teenage girl Harold” Reese said flatly, daring the other man to make an issue of it.
NOTES: Quantum Leap fusion AU. Reese=Sam. Harold=Al. Machine=Ziggy
John awoke disoriented, but quickly began to asses the threat level from habit - military and otherwise. The dilapidated nature of the building and its boarded up windows suggested he was a squatter, and the shabby nature of his jeans and hoody further supported the theory that he was currently living on the streets. Sadly, that was something John had experience with back in his own life in the future.
Reese had been part of the military-trying to maintain order in a crumbling world. But he had gone AWOL when he learned Jessica had fallen victim to the rising chaos. He had drifted, untethered, until Finch had enlisted him in this seemingly insane project. But at that point John had nothing to lose.
Having survived on the more desperate and dangerous streets of the near-apocalyptic future, John felt confident that he could keep this target alive until they determined what needed to be changed. Although John wondered what influence a homeless person could have on the fate of the world.
Reese stretched to try and work out some of the kinks and get accustomed to the temporary body in which his consciousness was currently residing. He had only been leaping for a short time, but he still felt more uncomfortable than usual in this current assignment. He was just beginning to work out the reason why when he heard a soft “Oh my” from his partner.
He glanced over to see holographic Harold in his fine suit staring at him in bemusement (the other man found even a pending apocalypse no excuse for poor attire).
“I'm a teenage girl Harold” Reese said flatly, daring the other man to make an issue of it.
“I am afraid it is more problematic than that, Mr. Reese.”
“I don't see how” Reese grumped.
“It appears you are also dead, Mr. Reese.”
“I feel pretty good for a corpse. A bit odd, but not like I should be pushing up daisies.”
“Yes, well....” Harold seemed at a momentary loss. He consulted his hand-held remote to access the information being provided to them by the Machine on their current assignment. “You are Theresa Whittaker, 15 years old. A few disciplinary problems but still basically a good kid. However, Theresa was believed to have been killed along with the rest of her family 2 years ago.” Harold scrolled through some more information before continuing. “According to police reports, her father was a real-estate developer who fell on hard times. The belief was that he took the family out on their boat where he then shot them all before turning the gun on himself. A case of murder-suicide prompted by his financial difficulties.”
“Since Theresa is still alive and well, it can't be quite so cut and dried. And if Theresa's life somehow affects the future there is probably a lot more to the story than that.”
“Our usual points of influence are friends, family, and business. Most of Theresa's immediate family are dead, and unlike Theresa their bodies were recovered so their deaths are confirmed. However there were also an Aunt and Uncle. Seems they divorced shortly after the tragedy. I have asked the Machine to send what information it has on them, but we should probably see if we can determine what they are up to in this time period Mr. Reese.”
“Not sure how much contact Theresa would have with her friends if they thought she was dead, but it's likely that someone has been helping her out. Kid from a good family would have trouble adjusting to the streets while keeping a low profile.”
“Indeed. As for business - I doubt Theresa had any significant ties. But her father's financials could stand a closer look.”
“That kind of body count certainly seems to indicate something rotten. This was more than just a family tragedy. I think if we figure out what really happened we'll have a good idea of what we need to fix for Theresa.”
“I agree Mr. Reese. If one of her friends has been helping her I have a likely candidate.” Harold adjusted his handheld device so that he could project an image for John to see. “Deacon Page. Theresa's juvenile records indicate the two of them were picked up on more than one occasion for vandalism. He has been arrested for a few other petty crimes, shoplifting and possession since then. If Theresa needed help adjusting to life on the streets he would be a good teacher.”
“Any idea where I might find this kid?”
Harold frowned down at his handheld device. “Mr. Page seems to have also led a life off the grid. I suggest you try places where young teens might congregate. Perhaps the local library?”
Reese snorted in amusement. “I think an arcade might be more likely. Or even better - a skate park” he added, catching sight of Theresa's skateboard propped in the corner.
“Very well. I will see what additional background information we can compile while you look for Theresa's friend. I will return as soon as I can.” When Harold's holographic image disappeared Reese began gathering up Theresa's meager belongings. Trying to reconcile the New York of his time with the layout of this past New York, he started off to where he would be most likely to find a group of skateboard enthusiasts. If Deacon Page wasn't there he could always ask around for other likely places.
Reese was on his third location when he struck pay dirt. He hoped that they were right in their supposition that Deacon already knew that Theresa wasn't dead, or the boy was going to be in for one big surprise. Approaching Deacon he began to mull over in his head how he could steer their conversation to learn what he wanted to know without letting on that he had none of Theresa's memories. But all his plans went out the window when the other started to talk.
“Yo Theri! You'd best scram and go lay low somewhere. Some guy was here asking about you.”
“What did you tell him?”
“You know I'd never rat you out. Told him he was crazy and you died 2 years ago, but he didn't seem to be buying it. Dude was definitely bad news. You don't want him finding you.”
“Thanks for the heads up Deacon.” Reese turned and started walking briskly away, trying to think of a place where he could hole up until Harold returned with hopefully a little more information on what was going on. The only good thing is that he was unlikely to wind up at any of Theresa's usual haunts, as he didn't have the girl's memories.
Reese tensed as his instincts kicked in with the impression that he was being watched. He had just begun to prepare himself when someone grabbed his coat sleeve. John whirled around and slashed the hand with a box cutter he had found in his pocket earlier, forcing the man to release him. His attacker was a burley man with a beard and mustache. As he cradled his slashed hand John could see the telltale bulge of a weapon under his jacket. John gave a quick kick to the man's knee and then bashed him across the head with all his strength using Theresa's skateboard. His foe fell to the ground and John took off, dodging and weaving to lose himself in the crowd. He headed back to the subway station he had come from to visit the skate park and hopped a ride on the car getting ready to pull away from the platform. A few car changes later and he was pretty sure he had lost his pursuer. He decided it would be best to just ride around in the car for a while.
That was where Finch found him a short while later. “Hey Harold, glad to see you. Hope your Machine was able to give you some more information. Seems like someone is out to get Theresa and I'd really like to know who.”
“I suspect that would be one Jimmy Calhoun. He runs Landale Financial, a partner with Theresa's father in one of his real estate deals. A bunch of land out in Brooklyn that was ruined by an oil spill. Once the government cleaned up the site its worth increased 50-fold. With Theresa's family dead her father's portion went to her Uncle Derek. Derek Whitaker was in debt to a number of creditors, including several IOUs to Calhoun. When the property was released from escrow Derek as executor signed it over to Landale Financial. He then died in an 'accident' shortly thereafter.”
“So odds are Calhoun was the one who had the family killed. And now he needs Theresa out of the way before she has a chance to inherit.”
“Calhoun and his company have been implicated in a number of shady deals over the years. The power and influence he would have gained from this transaction most certainly led to nothing good. Saving Theresa and preventing that might be what the Machine needs for us to fix.”
“Preventing the murder of Theresa's family would have been a better way to accomplish that.”
“I wish we were in a position to do that as well, Mr. Reese. But you knew there were a number of constraints on what we could hope to achieve in our efforts. Each change in the past, no matter how small, has a ripple effect down the time stream. Try to change too large an event and the resulting disturbance echoing forward to the present could be catastrophic.”
“So no assassinating Hitler, or warning about the attack on Pearl Harbor.”
“Exactly Mr. Reese. Which is why we can only make small changes in the past, and hope that the cumulative effect of those changes brings about a better present. It is why we need the Machine, to find all the myriad tiny adjustments that can be made without too much damage to the time stream.”
“Saving the Whitakers doesn't seem like it would be too impactful an event.”
“Perhaps not. Nor would it seem to be a fixed event-an event in the time stream that cannot be changed or altered. But we are also limited by the resources we have available to send you on your missions, and our ability to lock on to an appropriate target vessel to host your consciousness in the past. The Machine may not have been able to send you back to save the Whitakers, but we still have a chance to at least save Theresa.”
Further discussion was interrupted by the noisy entrance of a group of four young men into the subway car. They had a brief face off with another gang on the car, but the other gang simply exited the car without engaging. High on the success of his posturing, the leader's eyes swept the car for further entertainment and settled on Reese's current vessel. Harold groaned and rolled his eyes. Reese subtly prepared himself. This might be just what he needed to work off some of his frustration. These four were spoiled bullies, not used to having to actually fight.
The leader wasn't expecting much resistance from a young girl. Reese however had been trained in hand-to-hand combat, and was also quite expert at fighting dirty. That and the element of surprise made up for his current slight physique. Only a short time after they first started hassling him, Reese had the four subdued without even working up a sweat. Officers who had been riding in one of the other subway cars came to take them all into custody when they were alerted to the fight.
Which was how Reese found himself sitting in a room at the police station, sipping a cup of water and ignoring Harold's muttering. He knew his partner was just worried about him, since his holographic presence meant he could only stand and watch when Reese was in trouble. Shooting Finch a sly look, Reese set down his cup and calmly cracked his knuckles, knowing how much the other man hated that. Finch sputtered and fell into an angry silence, while Reese picked up his cup and resumed drinking to cover his smirk. Reese's teasing of Finch was interrupted by the entrance of a woman who looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and suspicion.
“Hello, I'm Detective Carter. What's your name?”
“Funny, Seems like the only time you need a name now is when you're in trouble. So am I in trouble?”
“I don't know, you tell me. You're the one living on the street. Do you need some help sweat heart?”
“...”
“I'll let you think about it” Carter said, as she took the cup away with her.
“If she runs my prints she's gonna find out Theresa's supposed to be dead. Is that gonna be a problem Finch?”
Harold scrolled through the information he had retrieved when the Detective arrived. “This might work in our favor Mr. Reese. Detective Carter has an excellent record. Numerous commendations. A good cop and currently a member of the Homicide Task force. She could be helpful in neutralizing Calhoun if we play this right.”
Reese pondered Harold's advice while waiting for the Detective to return. A short time later she came back wearing a rather pensive look. “Theresa honey, I need you to tell me what happened to your family.”
“My dad didn't kill anyone. Those reports are wrong. It was some man we'd never seen before.” John said.
“Do you know why he might have done it?”
“I'm not sure. My dad said something about a business deal. Some land he had.”
“Why didn't you say anything? Go to your Aunt and Uncle?”
“I was afraid. I don't know why the man didn't kill me, but I was afraid he might come back. And my Uncle Derek.....my dad said he had gotten him into this. That the deal was his idea. I didn't think I could trust him.” Reese improvised.
“I see. Well you're safe now. No one is going to hurt you, and we are going to find out who did this to your family. I promise you” Carter said before she turned and strode determinedly from the room.
Reese shared a look with Finch, hoping that he had given the detective enough to help her find the evidence that would be needed to put Calhoun away.
It turned out that it was more than enough. Carter took a few uniforms to pay a visit to Theresa's Uncle Derek to bring him in for questioning. They interrupted the hitman in the process of torturing Derek Whitaker in an attempt to find Theresa. The Uncle was able to tell Carter about Calhoun's involvement before he was taken away in the ambulance. After that it was easy enough to connect Calhoun to the hitman, who was only too eager to make a deal to sell out his employer. Finch gave Reese a pleased smile as he told Reese about the changes they had effected on the timeline based on the Machine's update. Calhoun in prison. Theresa inheriting the money instead. Using part of it for college, and part of it to start a non-profit organization to help the homeless. Reese was basking in the feeling of a job well done when Carter returned with a careworn blonde woman. The stranger's countenance was transformed when she saw him. She broke into a broad smile and cried “Theresa!” as she swept forward to engulf John in a tight hug.
While he had at first stiffened in response, John had just begun to relax into the hug as he felt the telltale tug on his psyche indicating that this Leap was concluded...
AUTHOR: whomii2
DISCLAIMER: do not own
SUMMARY: “I'm a teenage girl Harold” Reese said flatly, daring the other man to make an issue of it.
NOTES: Quantum Leap fusion AU. Reese=Sam. Harold=Al. Machine=Ziggy
John awoke disoriented, but quickly began to asses the threat level from habit - military and otherwise. The dilapidated nature of the building and its boarded up windows suggested he was a squatter, and the shabby nature of his jeans and hoody further supported the theory that he was currently living on the streets. Sadly, that was something John had experience with back in his own life in the future.
Reese had been part of the military-trying to maintain order in a crumbling world. But he had gone AWOL when he learned Jessica had fallen victim to the rising chaos. He had drifted, untethered, until Finch had enlisted him in this seemingly insane project. But at that point John had nothing to lose.
Having survived on the more desperate and dangerous streets of the near-apocalyptic future, John felt confident that he could keep this target alive until they determined what needed to be changed. Although John wondered what influence a homeless person could have on the fate of the world.
Reese stretched to try and work out some of the kinks and get accustomed to the temporary body in which his consciousness was currently residing. He had only been leaping for a short time, but he still felt more uncomfortable than usual in this current assignment. He was just beginning to work out the reason why when he heard a soft “Oh my” from his partner.
He glanced over to see holographic Harold in his fine suit staring at him in bemusement (the other man found even a pending apocalypse no excuse for poor attire).
“I'm a teenage girl Harold” Reese said flatly, daring the other man to make an issue of it.
“I am afraid it is more problematic than that, Mr. Reese.”
“I don't see how” Reese grumped.
“It appears you are also dead, Mr. Reese.”
“I feel pretty good for a corpse. A bit odd, but not like I should be pushing up daisies.”
“Yes, well....” Harold seemed at a momentary loss. He consulted his hand-held remote to access the information being provided to them by the Machine on their current assignment. “You are Theresa Whittaker, 15 years old. A few disciplinary problems but still basically a good kid. However, Theresa was believed to have been killed along with the rest of her family 2 years ago.” Harold scrolled through some more information before continuing. “According to police reports, her father was a real-estate developer who fell on hard times. The belief was that he took the family out on their boat where he then shot them all before turning the gun on himself. A case of murder-suicide prompted by his financial difficulties.”
“Since Theresa is still alive and well, it can't be quite so cut and dried. And if Theresa's life somehow affects the future there is probably a lot more to the story than that.”
“Our usual points of influence are friends, family, and business. Most of Theresa's immediate family are dead, and unlike Theresa their bodies were recovered so their deaths are confirmed. However there were also an Aunt and Uncle. Seems they divorced shortly after the tragedy. I have asked the Machine to send what information it has on them, but we should probably see if we can determine what they are up to in this time period Mr. Reese.”
“Not sure how much contact Theresa would have with her friends if they thought she was dead, but it's likely that someone has been helping her out. Kid from a good family would have trouble adjusting to the streets while keeping a low profile.”
“Indeed. As for business - I doubt Theresa had any significant ties. But her father's financials could stand a closer look.”
“That kind of body count certainly seems to indicate something rotten. This was more than just a family tragedy. I think if we figure out what really happened we'll have a good idea of what we need to fix for Theresa.”
“I agree Mr. Reese. If one of her friends has been helping her I have a likely candidate.” Harold adjusted his handheld device so that he could project an image for John to see. “Deacon Page. Theresa's juvenile records indicate the two of them were picked up on more than one occasion for vandalism. He has been arrested for a few other petty crimes, shoplifting and possession since then. If Theresa needed help adjusting to life on the streets he would be a good teacher.”
“Any idea where I might find this kid?”
Harold frowned down at his handheld device. “Mr. Page seems to have also led a life off the grid. I suggest you try places where young teens might congregate. Perhaps the local library?”
Reese snorted in amusement. “I think an arcade might be more likely. Or even better - a skate park” he added, catching sight of Theresa's skateboard propped in the corner.
“Very well. I will see what additional background information we can compile while you look for Theresa's friend. I will return as soon as I can.” When Harold's holographic image disappeared Reese began gathering up Theresa's meager belongings. Trying to reconcile the New York of his time with the layout of this past New York, he started off to where he would be most likely to find a group of skateboard enthusiasts. If Deacon Page wasn't there he could always ask around for other likely places.
Reese was on his third location when he struck pay dirt. He hoped that they were right in their supposition that Deacon already knew that Theresa wasn't dead, or the boy was going to be in for one big surprise. Approaching Deacon he began to mull over in his head how he could steer their conversation to learn what he wanted to know without letting on that he had none of Theresa's memories. But all his plans went out the window when the other started to talk.
“Yo Theri! You'd best scram and go lay low somewhere. Some guy was here asking about you.”
“What did you tell him?”
“You know I'd never rat you out. Told him he was crazy and you died 2 years ago, but he didn't seem to be buying it. Dude was definitely bad news. You don't want him finding you.”
“Thanks for the heads up Deacon.” Reese turned and started walking briskly away, trying to think of a place where he could hole up until Harold returned with hopefully a little more information on what was going on. The only good thing is that he was unlikely to wind up at any of Theresa's usual haunts, as he didn't have the girl's memories.
Reese tensed as his instincts kicked in with the impression that he was being watched. He had just begun to prepare himself when someone grabbed his coat sleeve. John whirled around and slashed the hand with a box cutter he had found in his pocket earlier, forcing the man to release him. His attacker was a burley man with a beard and mustache. As he cradled his slashed hand John could see the telltale bulge of a weapon under his jacket. John gave a quick kick to the man's knee and then bashed him across the head with all his strength using Theresa's skateboard. His foe fell to the ground and John took off, dodging and weaving to lose himself in the crowd. He headed back to the subway station he had come from to visit the skate park and hopped a ride on the car getting ready to pull away from the platform. A few car changes later and he was pretty sure he had lost his pursuer. He decided it would be best to just ride around in the car for a while.
That was where Finch found him a short while later. “Hey Harold, glad to see you. Hope your Machine was able to give you some more information. Seems like someone is out to get Theresa and I'd really like to know who.”
“I suspect that would be one Jimmy Calhoun. He runs Landale Financial, a partner with Theresa's father in one of his real estate deals. A bunch of land out in Brooklyn that was ruined by an oil spill. Once the government cleaned up the site its worth increased 50-fold. With Theresa's family dead her father's portion went to her Uncle Derek. Derek Whitaker was in debt to a number of creditors, including several IOUs to Calhoun. When the property was released from escrow Derek as executor signed it over to Landale Financial. He then died in an 'accident' shortly thereafter.”
“So odds are Calhoun was the one who had the family killed. And now he needs Theresa out of the way before she has a chance to inherit.”
“Calhoun and his company have been implicated in a number of shady deals over the years. The power and influence he would have gained from this transaction most certainly led to nothing good. Saving Theresa and preventing that might be what the Machine needs for us to fix.”
“Preventing the murder of Theresa's family would have been a better way to accomplish that.”
“I wish we were in a position to do that as well, Mr. Reese. But you knew there were a number of constraints on what we could hope to achieve in our efforts. Each change in the past, no matter how small, has a ripple effect down the time stream. Try to change too large an event and the resulting disturbance echoing forward to the present could be catastrophic.”
“So no assassinating Hitler, or warning about the attack on Pearl Harbor.”
“Exactly Mr. Reese. Which is why we can only make small changes in the past, and hope that the cumulative effect of those changes brings about a better present. It is why we need the Machine, to find all the myriad tiny adjustments that can be made without too much damage to the time stream.”
“Saving the Whitakers doesn't seem like it would be too impactful an event.”
“Perhaps not. Nor would it seem to be a fixed event-an event in the time stream that cannot be changed or altered. But we are also limited by the resources we have available to send you on your missions, and our ability to lock on to an appropriate target vessel to host your consciousness in the past. The Machine may not have been able to send you back to save the Whitakers, but we still have a chance to at least save Theresa.”
Further discussion was interrupted by the noisy entrance of a group of four young men into the subway car. They had a brief face off with another gang on the car, but the other gang simply exited the car without engaging. High on the success of his posturing, the leader's eyes swept the car for further entertainment and settled on Reese's current vessel. Harold groaned and rolled his eyes. Reese subtly prepared himself. This might be just what he needed to work off some of his frustration. These four were spoiled bullies, not used to having to actually fight.
The leader wasn't expecting much resistance from a young girl. Reese however had been trained in hand-to-hand combat, and was also quite expert at fighting dirty. That and the element of surprise made up for his current slight physique. Only a short time after they first started hassling him, Reese had the four subdued without even working up a sweat. Officers who had been riding in one of the other subway cars came to take them all into custody when they were alerted to the fight.
Which was how Reese found himself sitting in a room at the police station, sipping a cup of water and ignoring Harold's muttering. He knew his partner was just worried about him, since his holographic presence meant he could only stand and watch when Reese was in trouble. Shooting Finch a sly look, Reese set down his cup and calmly cracked his knuckles, knowing how much the other man hated that. Finch sputtered and fell into an angry silence, while Reese picked up his cup and resumed drinking to cover his smirk. Reese's teasing of Finch was interrupted by the entrance of a woman who looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and suspicion.
“Hello, I'm Detective Carter. What's your name?”
“Funny, Seems like the only time you need a name now is when you're in trouble. So am I in trouble?”
“I don't know, you tell me. You're the one living on the street. Do you need some help sweat heart?”
“...”
“I'll let you think about it” Carter said, as she took the cup away with her.
“If she runs my prints she's gonna find out Theresa's supposed to be dead. Is that gonna be a problem Finch?”
Harold scrolled through the information he had retrieved when the Detective arrived. “This might work in our favor Mr. Reese. Detective Carter has an excellent record. Numerous commendations. A good cop and currently a member of the Homicide Task force. She could be helpful in neutralizing Calhoun if we play this right.”
Reese pondered Harold's advice while waiting for the Detective to return. A short time later she came back wearing a rather pensive look. “Theresa honey, I need you to tell me what happened to your family.”
“My dad didn't kill anyone. Those reports are wrong. It was some man we'd never seen before.” John said.
“Do you know why he might have done it?”
“I'm not sure. My dad said something about a business deal. Some land he had.”
“Why didn't you say anything? Go to your Aunt and Uncle?”
“I was afraid. I don't know why the man didn't kill me, but I was afraid he might come back. And my Uncle Derek.....my dad said he had gotten him into this. That the deal was his idea. I didn't think I could trust him.” Reese improvised.
“I see. Well you're safe now. No one is going to hurt you, and we are going to find out who did this to your family. I promise you” Carter said before she turned and strode determinedly from the room.
Reese shared a look with Finch, hoping that he had given the detective enough to help her find the evidence that would be needed to put Calhoun away.
It turned out that it was more than enough. Carter took a few uniforms to pay a visit to Theresa's Uncle Derek to bring him in for questioning. They interrupted the hitman in the process of torturing Derek Whitaker in an attempt to find Theresa. The Uncle was able to tell Carter about Calhoun's involvement before he was taken away in the ambulance. After that it was easy enough to connect Calhoun to the hitman, who was only too eager to make a deal to sell out his employer. Finch gave Reese a pleased smile as he told Reese about the changes they had effected on the timeline based on the Machine's update. Calhoun in prison. Theresa inheriting the money instead. Using part of it for college, and part of it to start a non-profit organization to help the homeless. Reese was basking in the feeling of a job well done when Carter returned with a careworn blonde woman. The stranger's countenance was transformed when she saw him. She broke into a broad smile and cried “Theresa!” as she swept forward to engulf John in a tight hug.
While he had at first stiffened in response, John had just begun to relax into the hug as he felt the telltale tug on his psyche indicating that this Leap was concluded...