This is a crossover story involving E! characters and Quantum Leap characters. Though they're two of my favorite shows I don't own any of the characters.
Thanks to Sharon for the inspiration to cross these two fandoms.
 

Quantum E!

By Linda2

Leaping around in time, you never know exactly where or when you’re going to end up.  One day you’re a test pilot; another day you’re a vet.  You just get used to being in the ‘50’s and then you leap, and you’re somewhere in the ‘70’s….

He felt the water from the shower washing over him.  The hot water felt good on his tired muscles.  Momentary disorientation caused him to wonder what he was doing there and why he had sore muscles. Whatever the reason, he was reluctant to leave the shower’s comfort.  When he did, he would have to face the new person he had become. 

“Hey, Stoker, are you going to stay in there all day?  Chow’s on, come get it!”  The disembodied voice could only be speaking to him.  Stoker, so that was his name this time.  “Hey, Mike, you hear me?”

“Uh, yeah, be there in a minute.”  Reluctantly, he turned the shower off.  Pushing the shower door open, he looked out to find himself in a locker room.  Stepping out into the room, he grabbed a towel lying on the counter.  The air was cool on his wet skin.  Rubbing the towel briskly over his body to dry it, he moved to stand in front of the mirror.  Looking back at him was a face he was totally unfamiliar with.  At least this time he was a man.  Who the man was, where and when he was, that was the question.  Not only was he in a new body, and new place, but he had no idea the day, date or time of day he had leapt into.

Without warning a man appeared beside him.  Dressed in a wildly colored suit coat, holding a cigar and an electronic device, he presented a surprising figure.  But to the other man, he was the first familiar thing since he had found himself in his new environment. 

“Finally.  Here you are, Sam,” the man spoke, sounding relieved.

“Yeah, here I am.”  Sam replied, wrapping the towel around his waist.  “Just where and when is here, Al?”

“Here is the early 1970’s,” Al replied.  “Ziggy says your name is Mike Stoker, you’re the engineer for A shift, Los Angles County Fire Department, Station 51”

“Engineer?  What does that mean?”  Sam asked, puzzled.

“You get to drive the big red fire truck,” Al replied.

“Drive the…but I don’t know how to drive a fire truck!”  Sam exclaimed, as he began to pace in front of the row of sinks under the wide mirror.  “Any idea, yet, why I’m here?”

“No, that’s all the information Ziggy’s come up with so far.”

“So, what am I supposed to do?  I can’t be an engineer!  I don’t know how to drive a fire truck.  I don’t even know what an engineer does.”  Sam was becoming more agitated and his voice rose with each word.  Turning in his pacing, he saw a face at the window in the door.  A tall dark haired man pushed open the door, a concerned look on his face. 

“Mike, you okay, pal?” 

“This would be…” giving the electronic device a whack, Al continued, “Captain Stanley.”

“Captain?” Sam said, distressed to hear this news.  Of all the men on the shift it would have to be the captain who overheard him talking to Al, sounding, undoubtedly, like a madman. 

“Stoker? Something wrong?”  His concerned expression deepened.  He totally ignored Al, which was not surprising, as Al was a hologram only Sam could see or hear.

“Uh, no, Captain Stanley.  Nothing’s wrong, I’m just fine.”  Though the words were reassuring, they were apparently less than convincing because the worried expression remained.  “I just have to get dressed, then I’ll be right there.”

“Okay, pal, but make it quick or we’ll start without you.”  Still looking unconvinced of Sam/Mike’s assertions, the captain exited the locker room. 

Realizing he would have to be more convincing in the future if he was to complete the task he was here for, Sam looked around the locker room.  Hanging on one of the locker doors was a uniform with a nametag and badge pinned neatly in place.  The name on the tag read “Stoker.”  Grateful for Stoker’s preparedness, he began to dress.  Al disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared. 

*******

Captain Stanley walked across the bay to the kitchen shaking his head.  Maybe Stoker had been working too hard.  Seeing him talking to himself and so agitated was disturbing.  More disturbing still, was hearing him question his own abilities as an engineer. 

“Is he coming, Cap?”  Marco asked, as he transferred a large pot to a hot pad on the table.  Bowls and spoons had been placed at six places around the table.  Crackers and bread lay next the pot. 

“Yeah, he just has to get dressed.” 

Noticing the Captain’s pensive expression, Roy frowned.  “Something the matter, Cap?”

“No, no.”  Stanley sat down in the chair next to the paramedic.  “Roy, do you think Mike’s been working too hard lately?”

“Mike working too hard?  What makes you think he’s been working too hard?” 

“Well, he was just in the locker room talking to himself…,” hearing footsteps coming across the bay he stopped mid-sentence.  “I’ll tell you later.”

“It’s about time you showed up.”  Chet said, as Mike entered the dayroom and crossed to sit at the last place at the table. 

“Sorry.”  Mike said chagrinned. 

Sam sat at the table looking at the other members of the crew.  The man who had spoken was a stocky curly haired man with a mustache.  Next to him was a lanky dark haired man.  In the next chair was a man of clearly Latino descent.  Next was a larger man with dark blond hair.  Next to him was Captain Stanley.  The lanky, dark haired man grabbed the pot from the middle of the table and began to fill his bowl.

“Let’s get started, I’m starving,” he said, ladling stew into his bowl. 

“Gage, you’re always starved.”  The man next to him shook his head and commented, as he grabbed the bread plate and took a piece of bread from it.

“Oh, shut up, Chet,” John replied without ire.

As the pot and the bread and crackers was passed around the table Al appeared again.  Sam knew he was the only one who could see and hear the other man.  At least he was the only human who could see Al.  For the first time he noticed the dog lying on the couch across the room.  Children and animals had the ability to see the real him and Al.  The basset hound lifted his head when Al appeared, studied him for a second, then put his head back down again, either too good-natured or too tired to make a fuss.  Sam breathed a sigh of relief.  Standing behind the curly haired man, Al pointed to him with his cigar. 

“This is Chester B. Kelly, firefighter.”  Punching the button on the electronic device he held he moved to the next man.  “John Roderick Gage, firefighter/paramedic.”  Continuing around the table he named off the other men along with their occupation.  When he was done he said, “we’re still working on finding out the details.  So far Ziggy hasn’t been able to find out anything about these men after today.  They just kinda disappear off the face of the earth for some reason.”

Startled, Sam nearly choked on the spoonful of stew he had just put in his mouth.  Coughing violently, he waved the other men off.  After a sip of water, he recovered.

“You okay, Mike.”  Captain Stanley wore the same concerned expression he had before. 

“Yeah, it just went down the wrong way.”  Sam/Mike said, making light of the situation.

“You know, Mike, you’re supposed to swallow your food, not inhale it.”  John said, snickering, his own mouth full of bread.

The others snickered as well.  Sam/Mike smiled and acknowledged this bit of advice with a nod of his head.  “So I’ve heard,” he said with a slight smile, then took another sip of water.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Captain exchange a worried look with the man Al had identified as Roy DeSoto, FF/PM.

“Marco, I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again,” John said with his mouth full of food, “this is the best Irish stew I’ve ever eaten.”

“Marco made the stew?”  Surprise startled the words from Sam/Mike. 

“Of course Marco made the stew.  Who else?”  Chet said. 

“Of course, who else?” he replied, chagrined once again.

********

Sam finished eating in silence while the others chattered around him.  When he was done, he pushed away from the table and walked out into the bay.  Approaching the engine curiously, he crossed his arms over his chest.  As he gazed at the dials, he was surprised to find he knew what each one was for and how to operate the controls.  Testing his memory, he stared at one and then another, all were familiar to him. 

Al appeared beside him once again.  “Hey, Al, I know what all these dials do, how to make them work.  ‘He’ must have left some of the engineer’s residual memories, must’ve known I’d need them.” 

“That would explain…” Al let the sentence trail off. 

“Would explain what, Al?”

“Well, the guy we have, his brain is reeeaaally Swiss cheesed.  We couldn’t figure out why.  This would explain it.”

“Well I’m glad.  I think I can do this.  Maybe I can be an Engineer after all.” 

“I’m glad to hear you say so, Mike.”  The captain’s voice surprised Sam.  Clapping Mike/Sam on the shoulder he continued, “you know if you have any problems, you can talk to me.  About any thing at all.”

“Yes, of course, C..Cap.” 

Just then the klaxons sounded.  Captain Stanley turned and headed around the squad.  The other men ran into the equipment bay from the dayroom.  Realizing that the klaxons meant he had to test his newly acquired ability as an engineer, Mike/Sam took a deep breath, turned to the driver’s side door and opened it.  He picked up the turnout coat he found on the driver’s seat and automatically donned it.  Then climbing up into the seat, he gazed at the pedals and gauges surrounding him.  By the time the captain was in his seat, the substitute engineer had the engine started and was ready to pull out of the station.  He was halfway to their destination before he realized that knowledge of the area was also in his residual memory. 

Thinking about what he did and did not remember, he tried to remember where Mike lived.  But, though he knew the area, he didn’t have a clue where the other man lived, who his family was, or anything else about him.  Evidently, all that was left were memories pertaining to his job. 

The trash fire was quickly extinguished and Mike/Sam returned the engine to the station.  Apprehension assailed him when he realized he was going to have to back the truck into the station.  Somehow he accomplished it.  No one seemed to notice the engine was slightly crooked, and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

When he climbed down from the truck, he saw Al beckoning to him.  As the other men headed for the day room, he followed Al into what turned out to be the bunkroom. 

“Well, have you found out anything more?”  He asked, keeping his voice low. 

“Ziggy’s still searching the databases, still nothing about any of these guys after today,” Al replied.

“Nothing?  So what happened?  They couldn’t have just disappeared into thin air?”

“Ziggy hypothesizes that some disaster must have befallen them.”  Al’s cigar and the handheld electronic device flew in two different directions as he gestured with his hands, punctuating his sentence.

“But what could have happened?” Exasperated, Sam paced back and forth agitated.

“Ziggy hasn’t gotten to that yet.  You’ll just have to keep an eye out for anything that might prove fatal for one or more of you.  You do realize, Sam, when I say we can’t find out what happened to any of the guys, I’m talking about you, too.”

“Me?  You mean Mike “disappeared” too?”  Sam asked, frowning.  Al nodded.

“Ziggy thinks you’re here to prevent whatever disaster that happened, from happening.  Uh oh….”  Al looked at the device in his hand, punched a few buttons, then looked back up at Sam.  “Gotta go.”  Without further explanation, he disappeared. 

“Al…” Sam sat down on a bunk hoping the man would return shortly.  Instead, the next voice he heard was Roy’s. 

“Hey, Mike…how’s it going?”  Though the other man spoke lightly enough, Sam could see the concern on his face. 

“Fine, everything’s fine.”  Sam/Mike replied. 

“That’s good.”  Roy sat down on the bunk with Mike.  “So, if everything’s fine why are you hiding in the bunkroom?” 

“Oh, that, I’m not hiding, I just….”  Sam let the sentence trail off, at a loss for a ready explanation.  As many times as he had been through this, he would have thought he would be able to come up with an explanation much more quickly.  What was he going to say?  Just talking to my invisible friend?

“You just….”  Roy prompted.

“Well I just….um…I just thought I might take a nap.”

“On Chet’s bunk?”

Before he could begin to search for an explanation, Sam was interrupted by the klaxons sounding again.  This time, only the squad went out. 

Sam breathed a sigh of relief as Roy left the room.  Al appeared before him again.  “What did you find out?”  Sam could tell by Al’s expression, he wasn’t going to like the news. 

“Uhm.  Ziggy located some information about one of the guys.”  Al looked at him solemnly, hands in his pants pockets.

“Who?  What did Ziggy find out?”

“It’s about Mike.”  Al seemed reluctant to continue.

“What about Mike?”  Sam prompted.

“In a few months Mike resigns from the fire department and is apparently never heard from again.”

“Why?  Why did he resign?”  Sam asked, with furrowed brow.  Al only shrugged.  “What could be so bad it would make him resign?”

“Ziggy hasn’t been able to get all the details yet.  You know there’s a lot of information to sift through, it takes time.”

“Well, tell Ziggy to hurry.  I’d like to know what the ‘disaster’ is before it happens, not after.”

“I’ll do what I can.” Al shrugged again before continuing, “but you know how Ziggy is…”

“No, I don’t know how Ziggy is.”  Sam didn’t remember the computer he had built and programmed.  It was a part of his missing memory.  Sam pinched his nose, trying to ward of the headache he could feel developing.  “Look, just do the best you can.  Okay?”

“Mike, hey, Mike.”  Chet’s voice called out from the bay.

“Yeah, Chet, I’m in here.”  Sam/Mike called back.

“I’ll try to hurry Ziggy.”  Al disappeared as Chet came in to the room.

“Hey, Mike, you wanna play some ping-pong?”

“Sure, Chet.”  Maybe a game of ping-pong would take his mind off other things.

Playing ping-pong with the other man only took up a part of his mind.  The other part was still trying to figure out what could have happened to make Mike leave the fire department and disappear.  What had happened to the other guys? 

“Stoker, do you want to play or not?”  Kelly’s exasperated question brought him back to the game.  Concentrating on the game took his mind off worrying about the trouble ahead. 

The rest of the afternoon, between runs, Sam spent trying to act normal.  The hardest part about acting normal was that he had no clue what “normal” was for Mike Stoker.  Mostly he found himself sitting back and observing the others.  Oddly enough, no one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. 

While Roy and John’s relationship was easy to figure out, Chet and John’s relationship was a little harder.  At first he thought the two men hated one another, and then he realized that they were truly like the “brothers”  that firefighter’s so often professed to be.  Watching the other men working together in the field, he could see they shared a bond that could only have been forged by fire.   

The day was a busy one.  Each run was the potential disaster Al had warned him about.  Each time they went out, Sam found himself being hyper-vigilant.  As each run was completed without injuries to anyone, much the less the predicted disaster, Sam began to think that Ziggy must have been wrong.  By bedtime, he along with the others, was more than ready to hit the sack. 

Lying on Mike’s bunk with his turnout pants and boots on the floor beside him, Sam contemplated why he was there.  Always when he leapt into a situation, there was a task he had to perform before he could move on.  Unfortunately, the task was never clearly defined. Consequently, he relied heavily on Al and Ziggy to advise him about future events, and help him figure out just what he was to fix before he could move on.  Each time he leapt, he hoped it would be back to his starting point—home.  So far, his hope had not been realized.   

Reviewing the day, he thought about the guys he had gotten to know, both professionally and casually.  He understood Roy and John’s relationship, they were a team, both as paramedics and as friends.  Kelly and Lopez seemed to be good friends and made a good team as firefighters as well.  Cap was friendly with each of them but was, in the end, their captain. Sleep interrupted his thoughts and the next thing he knew the klaxons were making an awful racket.

After a moment’s confusion, he realized what was happening and swung his legs over the side of the bunk.  Pulling up his bunker pants, he ran for the engine.    

When they arrived at the scene, everything looked calm.  Except for the worried couple and the police officer standing on the sidewalk, everything seemed normal.  When Mike/Sam pulled up in front of the house, at the address indicated, Cap hopped out of the cab.

“What’s up?”  He asked, as his men gathered around him. 

“We’ve got a possible gas leak somewhere in the house.”  The police officer replied.

“We smelled gas and just got out.  We called from next door.”  The other man explained.  After a short discussion about possible sources of the leaking gas, Cap instructed Stoker to stay with the engine.  The other men donned air tanks and masks to go into the residence and air it out.  “Stoker, turn off the gas out here.”  Sam/Mike headed for the turn off valve.

“Sam, you can’t let them go in there!”  Al was suddenly beside Sam/Mike.  Cap, the two paramedics, Lopez and Kelly were trotting toward the house.  “It’s too late!  The house is going to explode any minute now!” 

“Wait!”  Sam/Mike yelled.  “Don’t go in there!”  When the others didn’t respond, he yelled again, running to catch the captain.  “Don’t go in there!  Stop, wait!”

Cap stopped and looked at Mike with a questioning expression on his face.  “What?”  The other men stopped and walked back to where their captain stood with Mike. 

“You can’t go in there.  Something’s wrong.  That house is going to explode.” 

“It will if we don’t….”  KABOOM!  Cap never got the chance to finish his sentence.  Everyone but Al was knocked off their feet by the force of the explosion.  If any of them had been any closer to the house or actually inside it, they would not have survived. 

All five firefighters looked at Mike with awe.  “How did you know?”  Cap asked, as they picked themselves up.

Sam shrugged, what was he going to say, ‘a hologram told me?’  Instead he just muttered: “I just did, it felt…hinky.”

“Well, let’s get this fire out.”  The men scrambled around grabbing hose and following orders while Cap called for reinforcements.

“The gas built up, the phone rang and blewy,” Al explained.  “The first time the others had just gotten into the house and were all killed.  Mike evidently had such a bad case of survivor’s guilt, he left the department.”

“Who would call them at this hour of the night?”

“Ziggy says the investigation revealed it was a wrong number.  Go figure,” Al replied, shrugging.

“So I’ve done what I came here to do?”  Sam said hopefully.

“Ziggy says so, yeah.”

Sam waited for it, but it didn’t come.  The feeling of being lifted into nothingness never came.  “Then why am I still here?”  Al shrugged again. 

“Stoker, get those hose charged!” Cap barked the order.  Sam knew from the tone of his voice, it wasn’t the first time he’d said it. 

“I guess I still have a job to do.”  Sam murmured, as he turned to the engine and flipped the switches and turned the dials that charged the hoses with the proper amount of water and force.  When the fire was out, he waited for the leap, but remained where he was.  Climbing wearily into the engine, he drove it back to the station.  

“Well, Mike, I think you’ve earned first crack at the shower.” Cap clapped him on the back.  Wearily, Sam headed for the shower and stepped into its hot, cleansing spray.  Standing under the spray, he reveled in the feel of it.  Finally, finished with the shower, he reached for the controls and turned the shower off.  

Then it happened, one moment he was in the shower, the next moment it felt as if he was being lifted into nothingness.  Shortly thereafter, Sam found himself standing on a sidewalk, looking into a shop window.  Feeling a tug on his hand he looked down into the face of a child. 

“Mommy?”….

Leaping around in time you never know exactly where or when…or who…you’re going to end up…

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