Sam sighed heavily. He could hear a haunting tune playing on the television (at least it was coming from that room, he assumed it was the TV), accompanied by Marie's summons. "Tracey! Get in here! It's ON!" So as to not let on that he wasn't really Tracey, and had no clue what was "on", Sam headed in there. He found Marie staring at a man on the screen. "Gosh," she sighed, "isn't he absolutely gorgeous?!" "Um...yeah, I guess," Sam answered. The guy was pretty handsome, but Sam didn't want to go all googly-eyed over him. He had his standards, after all. Marie gave him an odd glance. "C'mon, Trace. Any other day of the week you're drooling over him, and now all you come up with is 'I guess'? Nick Lea is the finest guy on earth! Him...and David." Sam didn't know who either of the guys were, but he got the impression that he was supposed to so he didn't say anything. Where was Al? Sam could have really used some information. He felt safe in the security that this stuff had all occurred *after* he'd first Leaped, so it wasn't things he was supposed to know. But to the best of Sam's knowledge, Al hadn't mentioned anything bad happening to his family. So what was he here to change? ************** Al sighed as he walked out of the Waiting Room. He thought his girl Tracey was a handful now... he'd forgotten how she was at 18. Her first comment had been to complain about how "boring" the Fermi suit look was, and Al couldn't help but agree. Of course, Sam had picked the color for it, which was probably best overall. Not everybody appreciated Al's (and Tracey's) sense of fashion. Sammi Jo Fuller was hunched over one of Ziggy's data terminals, and grinned at Al as he entered the Control Room. "How's the unstoppable force?" Tracey and Sammi Jo were best friends, something that amused Al to no end. Of course, Sammi Jo was still unaware of her true parentage. "She's okay," Al assured her. "Frustrated, but that's to be expected." "She hates the Fermi suit," Sammi Jo guessed. "Got that right." Al grinned. "I took the liberty of explaining things to her--she's actually quite thrilled by the prospect. Although I'm not so sure I should have mentioned that it's June 1999." "Why not? Does she want information about her future?" "You're probably not gonna believe this, Sammi, but she accepts the fact that it's best she not know. What she does want to know is how the sixth-season finale of that X-Files show was. Like I know. She knows I've never really watched it." "You don't know what you're missing," Sammi Jo commented, finishing the input of her calculations. "Great show. Um...tell her...tell her that it's gonna be a long summer." "What, you're not revealing the plot?" "What, and ruin it for her?" Sammi Jo laughed, and gathered her papers together. "I'll see you later, Al." "Take care of yourself, kid." "I hate to interrupt this mushfest," Ziggy interjected, "but I believe I can predict Dr. Beckett's current mission with 89.9% accuracy." "Do tell." "Well..." Ziggy drawled, "it seems that..." Suddenly, the room went pitch dark.