Stowaway

by
Nic Leonoff and Jayelle Carey

The sliders tumbled out of the vortex and onto a dirt road in what appeared to be an alley. Quinn landed on top of Wade, and he helped her up. "Everyone okay?" he asked.

"Fine," replied Rembrandt.

"Mr. Brown kicked me again," bellowed Arturo. "I'm beginning to think that it isn't accidental."

Rembrandt started to protest, but he was cut off by Maggie. "We've got a problem," she stated.

The others all turned to her, then focussed their gaze where she was looking. A young girl of about 16 sat in the road. She was looking back at them with a somewhat stunned, yet happy, expression on her face.

"Oh boy," Quinn mumbled.

The girl just stared at him. "That was so cool," she finally said.

Wade groaned. "I guess she saw the slide."

Maggie just shook her head. "Oh, she did more than that. She took the slide."

The others all responded with a synchronized, "What?"

"I kinda hitched a ride with you guys," explained the girl, getting up. "Thanks, by the way." She extended her hand. "The name's Rachael."

Nobody shook her hand, so she let it drop back to her side. "You are so very going straight back," Maggie said. "Quinn, when's the slide? Set the timer to take us back to the last world. We'll drop this little pip-squeak off at home again."

Quinn checked the timer. "Five minutes and change."

"I'm not going back," Rachael said. "And I'm old enough to make my own decisions." She glared at Maggie.

Maggie grabbed Quinn by the shoulders and turned him away so she could speak with a bit of privacy.

"Quinn, I think you should tell our little stowaway that she is not coming with us and that her next stop is home in five minutes," whispered Maggie.

Quinn shook his head. "No," he told Maggie. "I'm giving her chance to explain her story. She came with us for a reason. I'd like to hear it."

"Quinn, she's just a kid," Wade said. "We should take her home."

"We'll let her explain first," Quinn stated firmly. He turned back to Rachael, but she was no longer in the alley. "Hey! Where'd she go?"

Rembrandt and Arturo were still arguing about who kicked whom in the wormhole and had missed all of the conversation.

"Remmy, did you see where she went?" Wade grabbed his arm to get his attention.

Rembrandt looked up from the argument. "The girl? Yeah, she went that way." He pointed to the mouth of the alley.

Quinn tossed the timer to Arturo. "Four minutes until the slide. Go without me if I'm not back by then." He took off at a run in the direction that Rembrandt had pointed; Wade and Maggie close on his heels.

"Mister Mallory!" Arturo shouted at their retreating forms. He sighed, knowing that they were already out of earshot. Those three were always running off without thinking. It always astounded him that they ever managed to be on time for a slide. Silently, he crossed his fingers just in case.

*****

What if there was a world where the Russians ruled America?
Or where the dinosaurs never died off?
Or where women were in control instead of men?

These worlds do exist. Same planet, different universe.
My friends and I have found the gateway to reach them.
Now all we have to do... is find a way to get home....

SLIDERS... Infinite Slides....
Based On the Original "Sliders" TV Series
Created by Tracy Torme and Robert K. Weiss

*****

The scene that greeted them as they rounded the corner brought to mind the saying about the needle and the haystack. A banner hanging across a storefront proclaimed that it was the San Francisco County Faire. People milled about, crowding around the ferris wheel and the midway, and the air was filled with the scents of cotton candy, popcorn, and livestock.

Suddenly, a yell rose above the noise of the crowd. Maggie caught movement from the corner of her eye and veered off in that direction.

When Quinn and Wade caught up with Maggie, they saw that she had grabbed Rachael and was dragging the struggling girl behind her. "The kid lifted some guy's wallet back there," she said through clenched teeth. "I told him I was with security to buy us some time, but it won't be long until he figures things out."

"I would have returned it," mumbled Rachael.

"Come on, guys. Time's running out." Wade urged them back in the direction of the alley.

Quinn grabbed Rachael's other arm and lifted the thin girl off the ground. "I said that you'd get a chance to explain, but not like this," he said.

When they rounded the corner of the alley, the vortex was already open, spewing out its pale blue brilliance. Arturo and Rembrandt were shouting for the group to hurry. Quinn pushed the others ahead, then leapt in himself, the vortex closing at his heels.

-----

They tumbled out of the vortex with Rachael at the bottom of the heap, only to find Arturo and Rembrandt laughing hysterically. Arturo was leaning heavily against Rembrandt's shoulder, gasping for breath.

"I say, Mr. Brown, that was quite a landing," he managed to get out between gasps. "I certainly am glad we were able to get clear of that mess."

Rembrandt wiped the tears from his eyes. "Yeah, especially the look on that girl's face. We've been doing this so long, I forgot about those first few landings." He reached forward to give Maggie a hand getting up.

Quinn and Wade both rolled off of a dazed Rachael and pulled her to her feet. The girl shook her head and rubbed her newly bruised knee. "That was so not cool this time," she mumbled.

"Well, get used to it, kid. They don't get any better," Maggie told her. She folded her arms in her best commanding officer pose and stared Rachael in the eye. "So, how about telling us who you are and why you are following us."

To her surprise, Rachael didn't blink. "What do you care, huh? Going to haul me off and toss me through that tunnel, or whatever it is?" She even managed to match Maggie in both her tone and stance. Wade raised a hand over her mouth to hide a smile.

Rembrandt stepped between the two and held out his hands, cutting off further argument. "I don't know about you, kid, but we haven't spent more than three hours on a single world in the last week and I'm a little tired, so why don't we find out how much time we have here first, and then we can figure out the details."

Arturo pulled the timer from the pocket of his blazer and checked the display. "A little over two days, Mr. Brown. May I suggest the usual plan of action?"

"The Dominion and dinner sounds good to me," Rembrandt replied. He offered his arm to Maggie, who smiled sweetly as she took it. The rest of the group followed down the street to the Dominion's usual address.

-----

Rachael hung back from the group, watching. Quinn offered her a smile and tilted his head in the direction of the rest of the group. "Coming?" he asked. She wasn't sure what to make of these people who had first chased her and then tossed her through that hole in the world. But hadn't she made the decision to jump on her own first? And if this guy was who she thought he was, then she had better go along with them. For now, anyway.

She walked along beside Quinn, thankful that he didn't ask any more questions, though she caught him sneaking glances at her from time to time. You really had to keep an eye on people, especially ones that seemed like they were trying to be nice to you. She'd learned that lesson early on, in one of the foster homes. They were the people that would be so warm and welcoming, until you caught them rummaging through your stuff in the middle of the night. Yeah, she'd learned some lessons the hard way.

This place was definitely different than where she came from. For one thing, Rachael noticed how clean the streets were. Trash cans were lined up neatly in the alleys, store windows were clean and shinny, lawns were neatly trimmed, and there was no cracked or peeling paint to be found. The whole street seemed to shine like in those commercials for kitchen cleaners. They even passed a work crew patching holes in the road, and the smell of fresh blacktop filled the air.

If Rachael were to put a name to it, she would have said that the neighborhood they were walking through was like a movie set. Brownstone store fronts and brick sidewalks gave the place an inviting air, while bright colored awnings and ornate street lamps reminded her of shopping trips she had taken with her mother. They always stopped at the bakery on the way home to pick up fresh buns, and Mr. Ostwitz, the baker, would always give Rachael one of the cookies fresh out of the oven.

Rachael swallowed the lump in her throat. That was a long time ago.

When they had walked about three or four blocks, she noticed the bell tower on the street corner. Made of black wrought iron, it was about eight feet tall with a single weathered bell mounted at the top. There were more of them at intervals of about every five blocks. The others were discussing the purpose of the bells.

"Maybe they're for religious reasons," Wade was saying. "You know, like at home, some cultures stop everything for prayer at certain times during the day."

"Quite possible, Miss Wells. I believe that once we are settled, we should investigate further." Arturo stopped in front of the doors to the Dominion. "Home sweet home," he announced as he held the door for the rest of the group.

-----

The lobby of the Dominion was crowded, but they managed to get their regular suite with its two bedrooms and pullout couch. Quinn put in a request for an extra cot which, the desk manager told him, would be brought up later. They decided to head to the bar and get a bite to eat.

All the booths were full, so they sat on bar stools and placed their orders. When it came Quinn's turn to order, he requested a burger platter and a beer.

"Make that two," Rachael told the waiter, holding up two fingers.

Quinn interrupted, "She'll have a cola with hers."

Rachael rolled her eyes in Quinn's direction and then smiled sweetly at the waiter. "I'll have a beer also. Thank you."

"You're sixteen years old. You are not having a beer," Quinn informed her. "End of discussion."

"Whatever," Rachael muttered and then turned to the waiter. "I'll have water. Please."

Wade caught the whole exchange and looked at Quinn with a raised eyebrow.

"Later," he told her.

-----

Once in the room, Rembrandt called dibs on the pullout couch. "I can't take another night of Max's snoring. It's your turn, Q-ball."

"You're no treat yourself, Remmy," Quinn replied. "I've never known anyone who sang in their sleep."

Rembrandt chuckled. "Hey, when you've got the talent, why not share it? Besides, I've heard you sing, Q-ball. It's enough to give a man nightmares."

"He's like nails on a chalk board," Wade tossed in.

"No, more like a cat in heat." All eyes turned to the mysterious stowaway.

Maggie decided it was about time to find out who this kid was. "And you would know that because..."she asked.

Rachael knew when she was being challenged. She also knew when not to give away too much information. "I just do, that's all." She shrugged and sat herself on the couch, resting her worn boots on the table in front of her. She pretended to ignore their questioning looks.

Arturo sat in the chair facing her. "Well, Miss..." he started to say.

"It's Rachael," she interrupted. "Just Rachael. Okay?" She still wasn't looking at any of them, instead playing with the frayed edge of her flannel shirt.

Arturo nodded and began again. "Well, Rachael, would you mind at least telling us why you ran on the last world?" Years of teaching had taught him that sometimes an indirect approach was a better tactic.

"You guys were chasing me."

"Not until you started to run," Arturo replied. The others were sitting, quietly watching this exchange.

"She said that you guys were going to bring me back." She glanced up quickly at Maggie, who started to say something, but Rembrandt shook his head quietly, silencing her. Rachel went on, "I'm not going back there. You can't make me." Her voice was barely a whisper now.

Arturo sighed. "Won't your parents be worried?"

"No." She could barely be heard now.

"Why not?" he asked. "You may not realize this, but if you stay with us, you may not ever see your parents again. It's not fair to them to leave like this with no warning."

"They won't be worried because they're dead! Okay? Just leave me alone!" Rachael shouted. She ran to the bathroom and slammed the door.

Arturo turned to Quinn. "Well, Mr. Mallory, I hope you have a suitable explanation for all of this."

Quinn glared at the professor. His first instinct was to snap at him, but then he just shrugged instead. "This is not what I was expecting," he confessed as he walked over to the bathroom door.

-----

Rachael heard the light rapping on the door that she was leaning against. *That's it,* she thought. *Let them wait.* Adults always tried to be sweet to you when you blew up like this. Don't want to pushed the troubled kid any farther. Don't make her do anything we might all regret. Rachael knew how to play the adults when she needed to. She could thank Social Services for that lesson.

But right now she was buying herself time.

"Rachael?" She could hear Quinn's voice through the door. It was quiet and gentle, like when they were young and she would climb into his bed during a thunderstorm. Deeper now, but with the same calming effect. She could tell that he was worried about her.

"Just give me a few minutes, okay?" She screwed up her voice to make it sound like she had been crying. What she really wanted to do was put all the pieces together. Rachael had a pretty good idea about what was going on, but it was always better to make sure all your theories worked together.

She heard Quinn's footsteps receding from the door, and let out a relieved breath. She went over to the sink and ran the water to give herself a little more privacy. Then she climbed on to the counter beside the sink and sat with her back to the wall, watching the water swirl down the drain. Like the vortex.

The vortex. It was a wormhole from another dimension, that much she was sure of. Rachael had seen them fall out of it in the park. Theories and equations flooded her mind, but she pushed them to the side for later. She had been hiding out from whichever agency was responsible for her this week. She'd lifted enough junk food from the corner store to keep her occupied all afternoon, and was perched in her favorite spruce tree in the park when she'd seen the flash of light. The wind had almost knocked her out of the tree, but she'd regained her balance in time to see the big guy tumble out, shouting about being kicked in the backside.

Aside from taunting Crazy Kenny, this was the most exciting thing to happen to her all day. Rachael had stayed hidden, watching and listening. They apparently decided that this was not their home, something about the statue being different, or something like that. The big guy had gone across the park towards the newsstand, while the guy with the painfully bright orange shirt stretched out under another tree and took a nap. The woman with the sorta blonde hair had said something about going for a walk, and Rachael lost sight of her quickly.

It was the other two that caught Rachael's attention. Both of them were young and apparently quite friendly with each other. The woman, who looked sort of boyish from her distance, yet still had a cute girl-next-door thing going for her, was tossing the football that Rachael had spotted earlier.

"Hey, Quinn," she'd shouted at her companion. "Go long."

Hearing that name again gave Rachael the second shock of the day. It was an unusual name, one she hadn't heard in about five years. Not since the accident.

"No. It's not him," she'd whispered. But even as she said it, she knew that it had to be. The way that he caught the ball, tossing it back to his companion with such fluid grace. The way he playfully tackled her and rolled her to the ground, laughing.

Rachael used to play like that with him. In that instant she was sure it was him. Quinn was back. He was alive.

She wasn't even aware that she had made the decision until she had jumped into the tunnel behind them. She was awed by the colors that engulfed her, but her quick mind was already sorting out the possible details of that amazing ride.

And then it was abruptly over. No warning about the hard landing. No telling what kind of trouble she had landed herself in this time.

-----

Rachael leaned over and turned off the water. She had to figure out what to do next. She thought Quinn might know who she was, but of course this wasn't really her Quinn. She knew that now, just as she knew how to find her own Quinn. Tenth row from the road and second stone from the oak tree, right next to her mother. She'd visited him many times, especially since she'd run away from her foster parents' home.

More importantly, she had to figure out a way to explain everything to this Quinn so that he didn't decide to send her back where she came from. Rachael thought about her trip through the wormhole again. What a rush. When she was younger, she'd read a book about black holes and sixteen dimensional physics. It had all fascinated her. But of course, at that time she didn't understand the mathematics necessary to fully comprehend everything the author was talking about. The next book she had read was a text on calculus and linear algebra. And suddenly everything had clicked for her, like a bright light snapping on. She understood what the wormhole author was saying, how the theories worked, and she hungered to know more.

Rachael had been thirteen then. By the time she was almost fourteen, she'd realized she was able to do complex calculations in her head. She'd also come to realize that she was wasting her time in a public junior high school, so she began skipping classes to spend time in the public library. It was there that she fed her hunger to know more, to understand. The only missing piece in her theories about sliding was that damn constant for the Unified Field theory. Rachael had always figured that if she solved that key equation, then she could figure a way to build the machine that would take her form her troubled dimension to a new one.

As she reached her hand out to turn the doorknob, that light clicked on again. The pieces fell into place, and she needed to know how Quinn had solved the equations. Suddenly, for that very instant, nothing else mattered.

-----

"You could have gone a little easier on her," Quinn told Arturo. "Can't you see how freaked out she is about his whole thing?"

Arturo shook his head. "My apologies, Mr. Mallory, but I believe our guest is not as 'freaked out' as you might imagine. I believe she knows exactly what is going on. What I would like is an explanation as to why you insisted we bring her along."

"Yeah, Q-ball, who is this girl?" Rembrandt asked. "Why didn't you just let her go on the last world?"

"I told her that we would let her explain." Quinn flopped on to the sofa and rubbed his eyes. As usual, things were happening too fast. "I didn't want her to get lost and not be able to go back if she wanted."

"I don't buy that, Mallory," Maggie argued. "I saw the look on your face when we landed. You know who she is. I want an explanation."

Wade had been watching the whole scene silently, thinking. First there was that thing at the bar. How did Quinn know Rachael's age? And Wade had seen this girl before, but where? What was it that made her seem so familiar?

She pictured Rachael in her head. Rachael was a few inches taller than Wade, but the same slight build, dark hair cut slightly below her shoulders, fair complexion with just a hint of freckles, blue eyes... That was the key. Rachael had beautiful blue eyes - Quinn's eyes. Wade quickly remembered where she had seen Rachael before.

"Rachael is Quinn's sister," she announced. Four faces turned to stare at her. "That's why he's protecting her." Quinn just stared at her, open mouthed.

"But Q-ball doesn't have a sister," Rembrandt argued.

Wade shook her head and started to explain. "Maybe not on our world. But there was one world where I know he did. Ice World, where it all began. There was a picture of her in the drawer in the kitchen. That's how Quinn knew who Rachael was." She smiled triumphantly, proud of herself for figuring out the mystery.

"Good guess, Wade." Quinn's voice was almost a whisper. He tried to smile at her, but Wade noticed the pained expression behind that smile. "But there's one point where you're wrong."

"Quinn, you okay?" Maggie asked.

He nodded briefly and then stood up. "I'm fine." He motioned to the door and then turned away from the others. "I just need to... get some air or something."

They all just sat there for a moment, wondering what that had been about, then Wade got up and headed for the door after Quinn, following him out.

-----

Wade quickly found Quinn, who was leaning against the wall a short ways down the hall, and she slowly approached him. He rubbed his face with his hands, then ran his fingers through his hair.

"Quinn?" Wade's voice was soft.

He sighed deeply, then looked over at her. But he remained silent.

"What's wrong?" asked Wade. "I'm sorry if--"

"No," Quinn said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..." He waved a hand towards the door of their room.

Wade regarded her friend carefully. She'd never seen that expression before, and she wasn't sure how to read it. Grief, pain, sorrow, yearning? Whatever it was, he was clearly trying to shrug it off. "Quinn, I don't know what..."

"Hey, it's okay," Quinn told her, seeming to compose himself again. "I just wasn't expecting you to figure it out so fast, that's all."

He was silent a moment before continuing. "But there's one thing you couldn't have guessed. Because I never told anyone. I really do have a sister on our world.... Actually, I used to. She died."

Wade gently took his hand. "Oh god, Quinn, I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

Quinn gave her hand a squeeze. "It's okay. She was born early, and back then there wasn't much they could do for a premature baby. Or at least not one as young as she was. She lived for three days. I never got to see her before, you know." He shrugged. "My parents named her Rachael. They were really torn up afterwards. I guess that's why they never had any other kids."

"Quinn, I don't know what to..." Wade started.

"You don't have to," he told her, shaking his head slightly. "Just don't say anything."

Wade nodded, wondering how he knew so well what she was thinking. She reached up and gently caressed his cheek, a look of understanding passing between them.

Quinn stepped closer to Wade and leaned his forehead against the top of her head. "Thank you," he whispered to her.

"For what?"

"For being somebody that I could tell that to."

His statement was simple, but to Wade it meant so much. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed it softly. He wrapped his fingers around hers, then started back towards their room.

-----

"Rachael is my alternate sister," Quinn said. They were all sitting in the room again, the same as a few minutes earlier, only now Wade was perched on the arm of Quinn's chair instead of across from him. "That is why I've been protecting her," he confessed.

Arturo leaned over and gave his shoulder a pat. "Mr. Mallory, I must admit that I had no idea. Although, next time, I would appreciate it if you would let the rest of us in on your plans." He looked over at the bathroom door. "Now, the question remains, what do we do about her?"

Any further discussion was cut short by the door slamming open. "How did you find it?" Rachael practically shouted.

"Find what?" Maggie asked. "What are you talking about?"

Rachael ignored her and was staring at Quinn like he might evaporate if she blinked. "How did you find the constant? You know, the one for the equation for the wormhole. How did you find it?" she repeated.

Quinn blinked in surprise and sat up. "You know how the vortex works?" he asked.

"Well it ain't rocket surgery, ya know. Just a bunch of field equations and stuff." Rachael shrugged. From the corner of her eye, she could see Arturo bristle.

Quinn noticed too. "Max, you haven't taught a class in a while. Why don't you explain it to her."

Arturo was about to remind him that he'd just taught a high school course a few worlds back, but then he recalled that Quinn didn't know that. "Ah, yes. Okay. Well, if you'll just fetch me the paper and pen from the desk, Miss... err, Rachael, I would be happy to demonstrate the equations."

Within minutes, Rachael, Quinn, and Arturo were in deep discussion about the mathematics of sliding. The others took the chance to catch up on missed sleep and showers.

-----

Dusk was softly falling outside the windows, while in the hotel room the remains of another take-out meal was being picked over. They had opted to 'stay in and out of trouble' as Arturo had put it and, for once, it was a pleasure to enjoy the setting sun through the open balcony window and not have to worry what trouble awaited them in the morning.

There was only one issue to deal with at the moment - and she was sitting on the floor, examining the scrape on her knee from the afternoon's adventures, papers full of equations strewn about her. "So, do you always get this banged up when you slide?" she asked no one in particular.

Rembrandt snorted quietly. "Except for the one time I brought along those knee pads and a helmet. What did these guys do but make fun of me for it the whole slide." He tilted his head to where Wade was sprawled on the couch.

"Well, you did look kind of like a five-year-old who just fell off his bike," she shot back. "Besides, did you want to carry all that stuff around during each slide?" When he shook his head, she added, "I didn't think so. What would you do if I wasn't along to look after you?"

"Hey, the Cryin' Man has looked after himself just fine on all seven continents before you ever came along." He tossed a pillow at Wade, which she returned just slightly off her target.

"Yeah, but you probably looked pretty silly doing it," she laughed, and ducked just as the pillow came sailing her way again. "Who was the concert for in Antarctica? The penguins?"

Rachael watched the whole exchange with a sad smile. Quinn caught her looking and settled himself down beside her. "You miss them a lot, don't you?" he asked quietly.

She nodded. "Yeah. It's been a long time since I've been around people who care for each other this much," she said softly, still watching. By now, Maggie had joined in the banter so that Rembrandt was outnumbered with both pillows and insults.

"My dad died when I was eleven. Car accident. I still miss him," Quinn told her. He was hoping to get her to open up and explain why she came along.

"Yeah," she said again, not looking at him.

Quinn tried again. "But at least I had my mom to talk to." He watched her face, trying to gage her reaction to the conversation. Her profile was unreadable. "So, where did you go after they died?"

She shrugged. "Foster homes, social workers, juvenile detention, halfway house. Not in that particular order."

"I'm sorry." No wonder she had jumped in the vortex after them.

"Not your fault." Rachael finally turned to look at Quinn, and he could see the tears in her eyes that were threatening to spill. "I didn't fit in anywhere, just a trouble maker is what they called me. But if my brother were alive, he would have looked out for me. He would have let me live with him." She swiped her hand over her eyes to hide the tears. "That's why I jumped after you. I thought my brother was back."

Quinn must have looked surprised because she added, "I know you're not my Quinn. He was seventeen the last time I saw him. But you sounded like him when I saw you in the park, and you look so much like Dad. I didn't think, I just jumped."

"How did you know?" he asked. It hadn't taken him long to figure out the connection between them, but then she wasn't the first Rachael he had ever seen.

Suddenly her demeanor changed, signaling the end of the conversation. This guy was getting way too personal now. "Hey, I'm a genius. My IQ's off the charts." The smart-ass kid was back along with her armor and mace. Rachael picked up the television remote, turning up the sound and purposely ignored Quinn.

Quinn watched her for a few minutes more. He could see all her pain lying so close to the surface, all the feelings of hurt and abandonment. He had felt the same way after his father's death, but he had his mother for comfort and support. This girl had nobody. Double of a sister or not, all he wanted to do was put his arms around her and shield her from all the troubles that plagued her. He just wished that she would open up enough to let him.

-----

Rachael rolled over on her cot and looked at the clock on the bedside table. 2:17am glowed back at her, accompanied by the soft breathing of the room's other occupant. She had been awakened by the creak of the door when Wade had left the bedroom. Not that Rachael ever slept soundly anymore. She noticed the glow of the television coming through the half-open door and angled herself to get a better look without giving away her presence.

She could see Quinn sitting on the couch with his feet on the table and leaning his head back. Despite all his talk about Arturo's snoring, Rembrandt had been the first to turn in for the night and was now the one snoring in the other room.

Wade was standing in front of the open window, wearing a long T-shirt for sleeping, and was asking Quinn a question. He lifted the remote to mute the sound from the television and then answered her. "I noticed that too. Wasn't the moon almost full on the last world?"

"Mm hmm. I thought it would be much brighter out tonight," she replied in a whisper so as to not disturb anyone. Rachael watched as Wade sat down beside Quinn and rested her feet on the table beside his. "It's one of the few constants on any of the worlds we've been to."

Rachael didn't know for sure what the deal was between her "brother" and this girl, but she suddenly felt like she was intruding on something here. It was obvious that these two were close.

"You're worried about Rachael, aren't you?" Wade asked. Rachael couldn't see her from where she was hiding in the shadows of her room, but her ears perked at the sound of her own name.

Quinn nodded. "She's been through so much with losing her parents that I can't send her back to that world. I can't force her to go back to the life she had."

"You want her to keep sliding with us?"

Quinn lifted his shoulders and let out a long breath. "I want to get to know her. I want to make up for all those years that she was alone."

"You're not doing this because you feel responsible for her, are you? She chose to come along."

"But she's my sister."

"She's your double's sister." Wade's voice remained a quiet counterpoint to Quinn's more emotional arguments.

He sighed. "Do you know how much I wanted a sibling?" he suddenly asked after the slight pause. "After my Rachael..." He trailed off and Wade rubbed his arm comfortingly for a moment before he continued. "I always hoped my parents would still want another kid, ya know? They got a dog, I guess because they knew how alone I felt. But I always thought they'd have more kids someday. I didn't know any other families with just one child at the time. I never excepted the fact that I was an only child until Dad died."

They sat in silence for a while before Quinn spoke again. "That was only a little over a year after we lost Rachael."

"I'm so sorry, Quinn," Wade sympathized. She'd never realized just how hard that part of Quinn's life must have been. "But are you thinking about Rachael or about yourself? We can't take her along just because you want to have her around. I know how you feel about her, but she's only a kid, Quinn."

"I still think she deserves a chance, Wade." He turned to face her now. "We've helped people before, people we didn't even know."

"But it was always a one slide deal. They never stayed with us for very long." Rachael could see Wade's face clearly now that she was facing Quinn. She looked like she was ready to counter any of his arguments. Rachael decided that she didn't like this Wade girl very much. She was just jealous of what Quinn and Rachael shared.

When Quinn didn't answer her, Wade pressed on. "Okay, say that she does come along with us. Do you know what kind of responsibilities you're taking on?"

"Wade, we all take care of each other. That's the way it's always been."

"But we're all adults. Each one of us could take care of ourselves if need be. Well, most of the time we could. But Rachael is sixteen. Do you remember what it's like to be that age?"

He nodded. "I spent most of my time with my nose in a book. Wade, you should see how smart she is," he was pleading for her to understand. "She's leaps ahead of where I was at her age. She knows all about sliding just from what she's read in the library. Okay, I admit she's got a bit of an attitude, but we don't know half the stuff she's been through. I think she can handle sliding with us."

Wade shook her head and looked up at the door their room. Rachael held her breath, afraid of being caught. But Wade had returned her gaze to Quinn. "Maybe she can. But she's still a sixteen-year-old girl. Quinn, I still remember what that age is like. You're emotions get all out of whack, you're body and your mind can't agree on anything, and even small problems seem huge. Are you ready to deal with all that on top of sliding?"

"Wade..." he tried to find a response, but she put a hand to his lips to silence his arguments.

"I'm not saying she shouldn't come with us. I'm just asking you to think this whole thing through with your head as well as with your heart." She stood to return to bed but paused just as she passed him. She laid a hand on his shoulder and he turned his face up to hers. "I just don't want anyone else to get hurt."

He nodded. "I know."

Rachael watched as some silent bit of communication passed between them, and then she retreated to the safety of her cot. She was just pulling the covers over her shoulders as she heard Wade close the door again.

So, they didn't think she should come along, didn't think she could take care of herself? Fine then. She didn't want to be a burden to them either.

Rachael waited a few more minutes until she heard the slow, even breathing that signaled Wade was finally asleep. The main room was dark as she crept silently passed Quinn's sleeping form on the couch. The glow from the timer's display caught her attention and she slipped it in to her jacket pocket. She closed the door behind her without a sound.

*So,* she thought. *You were going to leave me? Well, you can't. Because I left you first.* She walked past the front desk and out into the night.

-----

Rachael wandered back through the streets that had originally led them to the hotel. The awnings were rolled up against the storefronts and metal storm shutters now covered the windows. Rachael tried a few of the doors, but they were locked tight. She wouldn't find any shelter for the night here.

She followed the street until it led her to a more industrial section of town. Nightclubs were mixed in amongst the warehouses, and club patrons spilled out on to the sidewalk and into the shadows. The bell towers were present here, although they were not as ornate as the ones around the shops.

Rachael walked over to one of the neon lit doorways, but she was stopped short by a bald mountain of a man who asked her, "Isn't it past your bedtime, kiddo?"

Rachael smiled as sweetly as she could and replied, "Aw, c'mon. All I want is to get a drink and listen to the music. I'm meeting friends inside."

The man snorted at this and pulled himself up to his full height. "Listen, kid, the only reason I haven't tossed you back out on your behind is because I'm in a good mood tonight. Now, I'm guessing that you aren't old enough to buy a drink, so unless you can show me some ID that says otherwise, I'm going to call you a ride home." As he reached back through the doorway for the phone, the light caught the words 'Topless' and 'Bouncer' printed on his T-shirt.

With the phone receiver almost hidden in one meaty hand, he asked her, "Where are you from, kid?"

"Oz." Rachael started to walk away. She hoped that he wasn't calling the police. "I came in on the last tornado," she shot back over her shoulder. "Jerk," she added under her breath.

As she rounded the corner, she felt to make sure the timer was still safely hidden in her jacket. For sure Quinn would come looking for her when he realized his timer was gone. Rachael didn't think the others would care too much, but Quinn would. She would convince him to come with her when it was time to slide. They could leave the others behind and it would be just the two of them, like a family again. He needed her as much as she needed him.

Suddenly, a bright light streaked across the sky overhead. Rachael shrugged it off as a shooting star and kept walking. Then an earsplitting ringing filled the night. Rachael looked back around the corner to see the bouncer from the club pulling on the bell rope while people in the street were quickly making their way to the shelter of the nightclubs.

Another fireball raced across the sky and more bells took up the chorus as a warning. This time, the meteor hit the ground, near enough that Rachael could feel the ground shake. This was not a good situation. She weighed her options; she could go back to the club and seek shelter with the rest and risk being picked up by the police, or she could find cover on her own and wait for this to blow over and Quinn to come looking for her. She chose option B, and walked back down the alley.

It wasn't long before she reached a warehouse where she could jimmy open the door and slip inside. She was just opening her pocketknife when she heard a high-pitched wine coming from overhead. At the same moment, a pair of arms grabbed her and yanked her through the door.

The ground shook and threw Rachael and the other person to the floor. When Rachael opened her eyes, she saw the mailbox-sized crater right where she had been standing. A tiny stone was still glowing hotly in its center.

Before she could thank whoever had saved her life, she was roughly grabbed again and dragged into the warehouse. When she tried to struggle, her captor only held on tighter. In the back of her mind, she knew she should have gone with option A.

-----

Quinn opened his eyes with a start, and it took him a second to realize that the ringing he heard was not part of some dream. Arturo came into the room and turned on the lights, which only added to Quinn's confusion. "What's going on?" he asked as he reached for his shirt off the floor.

"It seems, Mr. Mallory, that those bells we passed yesterday are some sort of alarm system. And something seems to have set them off," Arturo informed him.

Maggie joined them, already at full military alert. "Anybody seen Rachael?" she asked. She was already reaching for her jacket.

Wade was standing at the bedroom door rubbing her eyes. "What do you mean where's Rachael?"

"Unless she's hiding in there with Rembrandt, she isn't here," Maggie replied.

Rembrandt had joined them and heard the whole conversation. "She's not in here. Her boots are gone too."

Quinn was tossing pillows and papers around in search of something. A sick feeling was beginning to settle in the pit of his stomach. "The timer's gone also. What was she thinking to do? She can't slide by herself."

"Quinn," Wade interrupted, her face had suddenly gone pale. "Rachael heard us talking."

"What do you mean?" he looked up at her. The tone of her voice filled him with dread.

"When we were talking earlier, I thought she was asleep. She must have heard me telling you that we should reconsider bringing her along with us." Wade put her hand on his arm. "Oh god, Quinn, I'm so sorry. This is my fault."

"She must have misunderstood. She should've known that I wouldn't abandon her." He squeezed her hand tightly. "We have to find her, Wade."

"First thing we should do is find out what these bells are for," Arturo interrupted. "I have a hunch that it will help us figure out where to look for Miss Mallory."

A ball of light streaked past the window, followed by a crash and shaking ground. "Whatever we do," Rembrandt interjected, "we'd better hurry."

-----

Rachael was dragged to a room that was bare except for the wooden desk, a chair against the wall, and the naked light bulb suspended in the middle of the room. She could hear the heavy beat of music through the walls and guessed that she had to be in a back room of the club.

Her captor, who was easily six and a half feet tall and built like a bear, shoved Rachael into the room and started to close the door. He stopped long enough to look her up and down with a leer. "Oh yeah, Artie's gonna love you."

"I'm sure I'm gonna love him too," Rachael shot back. She turned away from the man and pretended not to feel his eyes on her backside. This was a very bad situation, but at least she could feel the timer still hidden safely in her jacket. She knew Quinn would come after her. But would he know where to start looking?

The man laughed. "You're a real piece of work, kid."

Rachael heard the door shut behind him and then the click of a dead bolt. She went to work right away at searching for a means of escape. There was no telling how long she had before this Artie guy came to meet her, and she didn't think she wanted to be there when he did.

-----

"Of course we don't know what the bells are for, you blistering idiot. How many times do I have to explain it before it penetrates your thick skull that we are not from here?" Arturo bellowed at the desk clerk. The clerk had refused to let them leave the hotel lobby until the bells stopped ringing, and he was trying Arturo's patience.

The clerk rolled his eyes in frustration. "Fine. Sir, if you would just calm down, I'll explain it to you." He let out and exasperated sigh. Clearly this wasn't the first time he'd had this argument.

"I am calm!" Arturo shouted again. Realizing that everyone was staring at him, he took a deep breath and turned back to the clerk. "I apologize. Explain please."

The clerk nodded and began reciting. "In 1951, the moon was struck by an object from the outer edges of the solar system. This was not the first time that it had happened, as you may be aware," he gave Arturo a pointed look and then continued. "But this object was almost half the size of the moon itself. Both the moon and the meteor were severely fragmented, with several pieces falling to earth and landing in the ocean. Our government and space program discovered that a very large piece of rock was in danger of striking southern California. A nuclear warhead was launched and was successful at neutralizing the threat, though it left thousands of smaller meteors still in orbit. To this day, we experience meteor showers whenever we pass through their orbital plane."

"Then what's the deal with the bells?" Rembrandt asked.

"We use them as a warning system. Nobody should go outside while the bells are ringing," replied the clerk.

Maggie interrupted, "What about satellite tracking?"

The clerk shook his head. "There's too many rocks up there. A satellite would be destroyed in a few hours if we were to launch one. Never mind the damage to a shuttle. If you see a fireball, you ring the bell. It gives everyone within earshot a chance to get to cover. We've tried other systems, but this seems to work the best because it's quick to get the warning out." He rummaged through one of the desk drawers and pulled out a few slips of paper.

"Here." He handed the papers to Arturo. "Passes to the Space Museum. But they don't open until ten, so you might as well go have some breakfast."

"Thank you, my good man. But we have one more question to ask of you," Arturo said. "We are looking for the young girl who was with us when we checked in. You didn't happen to see her, did you?"

The clerk thought for a moment before replying. "Yeah, I think she left a couple of hours ago."

"Did you see which way she went?" Quinn was getting worried that the longer they waited, the less chance they would have of catching up with Rachael.

"That way," the clerk pointed. "Towards the warehouse district. There are a few nightclubs there. She probably went to find some action. You know kids these days." He winked at Quinn.

"You don't know this one," Quinn replied as the group headed out the doors and in the direction the clerk had pointed.

------

Rachael pulled again on the grate covering the air vent. She had to stand on the desk to reach the grate, but once she got it free, she would have her way out. She was pulling on one of the last screws when she heard the door lock scrape. She used her fist to jam the grate back into place, and then dropped off the desk. By the time the door opened, Rachael was sitting in the chair with her arms crossed defiantly in front of her.

A man in his late fifties entered the room and then locked the door behind him. He was dressed in a tux with his tie hanging untied around his neck and the top buttons of his ruffled shirt open. He wore his glasses perched on the end of his nose and his years showed prominently on his face. He looked at Rachael the same way her captor had earlier. She was guessing that this guy was Artie.

"Little Johnny said I would like you," he told her. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. "Little Johnny doesn't lie."

Rachael shrugged. "What's not to like?" She smiled coyly. "I'm smart, cute in that sexy sort of way, and if you don't let me out of here, I'm going to kick your a--"

"Whoa, kid," Artie interrupted her. He laughed and said, "Feisty thing too. My clients will like that."

"I'm sure they'll like me even more once they find out that you kidnapped me." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.

Artie smiled and shook his head. "My clients don't care where my girls come from, as long as they can perform. Besides, the way Little Johnny tells it, you were caught in the act of breaking an entering."

"I wouldn't call it that," Rachael shot back smoothly. She knew where this guy's weakness was now, and she planned to exploit it. "You'd be amazed at what these hands can get in to." She threw in a wink to emphasize her point.

Artie seemed to like her change in attitude because he sauntered a little closer to the chair where Rachael was seated. He ran one hand along Rachael's cheek and angled her chin so he could get a close look at her. "Then again, maybe I'll keep you all to myself."

Rachael shuddered inside and tried to hide her revulsion. She was playing a dangerous game now. A knock sounded at the door, followed by, "Artie? You in there? Hey, there's some guy poking around in the front. I think he's looking for the girl. What d'ya want me to do?" It was Little Johnny's voice.

Artie held his gaze on Rachael a moment longer while he replied, "I'll handle it." To Rachael he added, "When I come back, you can show me more of the places those hands of yours can get in to."

He then left, locking the door behind him again. Rachael used the sleeve of her shirt to rub at her face where he had touched her. When she was sure that Artie was gone, she climbed back on top of the desk and started to pry at the grate again.

-----

Outside in the hallway, Little Johnny was following Artie back to the office. "We got problems. Rembrandt Brown is asking about the girl."

"Brown is supposed to be in Havana. What's he doing back here?"

Little Johnny shrugged, but inside he was terrified. Last time Brown was in the area, a game of poker had turned sour and three of Artie's guys had been killed. Johnny had barely escaped with his life, even though he had killed one of Brown's men. Unfortunately, Brown had sworn revenge, claiming that he had been cheated. The last thing they needed right now was an all out gang war.

"Don't know, Artie. Maybe we should just give him the girl and forget about the whole thing."

Artie reached into his jacket and pulled out a small pistol, clicked open the barrel and gave it a spin, then clicked it shut and put it back in his pocket. "I think we had better give Mr. Brown a warm greeting. What do you say?"

-----

Rembrandt threaded his way through the crowed on the dance floor. There was no sign of Rachael there, so he headed towards the bar at the back of the club. He and Maggie had split up after the bouncer at the door had agreed to let them in to look for Rachael, even after trying unsuccessfully to convince them that she had run off earlier when he had tried to call her a cab. At Maggie's argument that Rachael could have sneaked in during the meteor shower, the bouncer had finally relented and allowed them to search the club.

Arturo, Wade, and Quinn had gone around back to check for any other hiding spots that might appeal to a girl on the run.

*Funny,* Rembrandt thought as he pushed his way through throngs of people barely old enough to be drinking in public. *Never thought of naming a club after one of my gold records. I wonder what Artie's up to on this world.*

He spotted Maggie coming out of the ladies' room and waved. Maggie shook her head. Rachael wasn't in there either. Just as he started to push his way towards Maggie, an older man in a tux stepped in front of him. Rembrandt was about to find out what Artie was up to.

-----

Quinn almost stumbled in the crater left by the chunk of rock that had almost hit Rachael earlier. When he realized what it was he felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Wade saw him falter and pulled him away from the crater by the hand.

"She's okay, Quinn. You said yourself how smart she is. She probably found cover as soon as the bells started ringing." Wade tried to draw his thoughts away from what that hole in the street might mean.

"Mr. Mallory," Arturo called. He was crouched by a doorway examining something on the ground. "You didn't happen to notice the sole pattern on the young lady's boot, did you?"

Quinn hunched down to get a closer look at the print. "She was here." He tried the door handle to no avail. He let go of Wade's hand and backed up a few steps before throwing all his weight against the door. When it failed to budge, he started to take another run at it.

"Wait, Quinn," Wade called. She pointed to a small vent about ten feet up the wall and just to the left of the door. The grate was hanging from it by a single screw. "Give me a boost. I can unlock the door from the inside."

"I should go," Quinn argued. "We don't know what's on the other side."

Wade shook her head. "You won't fit, and I can't lift you up even if you could." She pushed Quinn over to the wall under the vent. Arturo offered his hand to steady her while she climbed to Quinn's shoulders.

"I'll be careful," she assured him as she disappeared into the mouth of the vent.

"Where have we heard that before, Mr. Mallory?" Arturo commented. Quinn snorted in agreement.

-----

The air vent didn't have an opening right on the inside of the building as expected, so Wade debated about backing up and trying to find another way into the building. Once her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she spotted a dim light around a bend in the airshaft and, as she inched her way towards it, she heard a scraping noise as well. Wade muttered a silent prayer that it wasn't a rat making that much noise.

Wade reached the opening and was greeted with a yelp of surprise and an embarrassed looking Rachael who was holding the vent grate in her hands.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Rachael asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Looking for you," Wade replied. "But if you're not interested, I'll leave."

Rachael shook her head. "No, I have to get out of here. Where's Quinn?"

"Outside. He wouldn't fit." Wade climbed out of the vent and dusted off her pants. "We've been looking for you for hours. Why'd you take off?"

Rachael narrowed her eyes, putting up her defenses again. "You wouldn't understand."

Wade was about to argue that Rachael had no idea what she was talking about, but decided to drop the point. She could get an explanation later. Right now, the important thing was to get out of here.

-----

Maggie saw the two men accosting Rembrandt. They were herding him towards a door behind the bar and, from the way they were moving, Maggie could tell that at least one of them had a gun. She followed the three of them from a distance, careful to keep hidden by the crowds. Once through the door, she was hidden by the shadows as she crept silently after them.

-----

With a gun pressed into his back, Rembrandt was pretty sure this Artie was not in the recording business. He was being escorted past storage rooms smelling of old beer and towards what looked like an office in the back of the club.

"Why'd you come back, Remmy?" Artie asked. "Didn't you lose enough last time you were here?"

Rembrandt had no idea what he was talking about. His double was obviously in some kind of trouble with this Artie. "Look, I'm not who you think I am," he tried to explain. "I'm just looking for this girl I told you about. She's the sister of a friend and she's in a bit of trouble."

Artie stopped in front of a door and fished in his pocket for his keys. "Then I think I might just have what you're looking for - for the right price, that is." He unlocked the door and it swung open to reveal Wade and Rachael standing on the desk, attempting their escape.

They stood frozen in Artie's gun sights, Wade edging herself slowly between Rachael and the gun.

"Well, Mr. Brown, it seems like we're looking at two for the price of one. Not that I'd let a deal like this one get away so easily," Artie smirked.

Maggie heard all this and used the distraction to get passed Artie's little party. A dim red light at the end of the hall marked the exit, and so it was there that she headed. She found the deadbolt lock and was nearly flattened against the wall as Quinn and Arturo pushed their way through.

Maggie warned them both to silence before and explained the situation in a few whispered sentences. They followed her back down the hallway in time to overhear Artie reveling in his latest fortune.

"My clients prefer a certain kind of lady for their entertainment pleasure," Artie was saying. "You two young women will fetch a good price. That is, unless Mr. Brown here can match it."

"Now wait a second here," Rembrandt's voice cut in. "These ladies aren't for sale, at any price."

Quinn had heard all that he needed and rushed through the door. Maggie and Arturo had no choice but to follow, throwing the whole room into chaos.

Amid the shouting and scuffle, Quinn threw himself at Artie while Johnny, thinking uncharacteristically fast, tried to grab Rachael from the desk. Rachael struggled with all her strength and had almost broken free when a gun went off.

"Quinn!" Wade shouted as she saw him clutch his head and stumble to his knees.

Rachael tried to rush past Johnny and, in her panic to get to her brother, was caught off guard when he grabbed at her again. She fell to the floor with a sickening crunch.

In the midst of all this, Maggie had, along with a well placed kick, retrieved Artie's gun. She fired it into the ceiling, bringing the whole scene to a halt. Pointing the weapon at Johnny, she informed him, "I think this deal is off."

Arturo didn't waste any time checking for Quinn's pulse. "He's alive, just unconscious. Mr. Brown, your assistance please."

"Quinn," Rachael moaned as she tried to stand. Her shoulder was on fire and it hurt her to breathe.

"He will be alright," Arturo tried to reassure her. "The bullet just grazed his temple."

"I always knew that boy had a hard head," Rembrandt added.

Maggie kept the gun aimed at Artie and Johnny while Rembrandt and Arturo carried Quinn out of the room. Rachael followed them as close as she could, while Wade brought up the rear. Once they were safely out of the building, Maggie emptied the remaining shells from the gun and tossed it at Artie. She then joined the others in the alley.

Quinn was just opening his eyes. He searched the worried faces around him and was relieved to see Rachael's among them.
"Are you okay?" he asked her. She was white as a sheet and was shaking so hard that her teeth chattered.

Rachael nodded. "Yeah. Now I am. My shoulder hurts," she said between shivers. "And I think I'm going to be sick."

Arturo gently placed his jacket around her shoulders and said, "It's shock setting in." He turned to the rest of the group. "I believe we should get these two to a hospital right away."

-----

Rachael lay in a bed in the hospital, watching the sun coming up through her window. At the moment, she was feeling pretty good. Her dislocated shoulder had been reset and was now safely cradled in a sling against her chest, and the painkillers the nurse had added to her IV had kicked in a few minutes ago. Wade had stayed at her side while the doctor had reset Rachael's shoulder, and Wade had reassured her that Quinn was fine, even though Rachael could tell that she was worried about him. When she asked her about it, Wade had mumbled something about Quinn taking more than his fair share of the bruising lately.

Rachael looked up to see Quinn standing in her doorway. Wade saw him too and quietly left the room to give them some privacy. Rachael noticed yet again how they seemed to communicate with only a look. There was definitely something between those two.

Quinn sat down beside Rachael's bed. True to Arturo's word, Quinn had just gotten off with a scratch which was now hidden behind a bandage.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

Rachael tried to shrug but it came off looking like a wince. "I've been better." She saw him sigh and knew that this was no time for her attitude. "I sorry," she added. "I shouldn't have run."

"Why'd you do it?"

"I don't know. I thought you were going to send me back."

Quinn shook his head. "We weren't going to send you anywhere without hearing your side of the story. I told you that before."

"I know. But I heard you and Wade talking, and I was afraid that she would change your mind."

"And what were you planning to do with the timer?" Quinn realized that he was beginning to sound accusatory, so he softened his tone a bit. "We would have been stuck her for a long time if we missed the slide, you know that."

"I didn't know what I was thinking." Tears were filling her eyes, but she blinked them back. "I thought, maybe, that you would come after me to find your timer and then we could slide out of here together. Just you and me. I didn't think the others would care what happened to me."

"I think you ought to know by now that that's not the case." Quinn took her good hand in his. "You and I are family, in a way. But Remmy and Wade and Arturo and Maggie are also part of my family. Yeah, we might not have agreed on what to do with you right away, but I was willing to give you a chance, and because of that, so were they. That's the way family works."

Rachael closed her eyes, but a tear slipped down her cheek just the same. "I didn't know. I saw you and Wade together talking, and I thought for sure that she was trying to convince you that I would be too much of a problem."

"You're not a problem." Quinn gently wiped the tear away. "But Wade knows that when my heart tells me to do something, I often don't think it through with my head."

Rachael let out a little laugh. "Sounds familiar."

"When you overheard us talking, she was just trying to get me to see all the different points I hadn't considered. That's another part of being a family, looking out for each other."

"I guess I just haven't had much practice with that." The drugs had dulled her physical pain, but they couldn't do anything for her old wounds.

It was a few minutes before she looked at Quinn again. When she did, he said, "You've never talked about it, have you?"

"No."

After a few more minutes of silence Quinn asked, "Do you want to?"

"What's there to talk about?" Rachael sounded angry. "How if I hadn't been arguing with my Quinn, then Dad would have seen the semi-trailer heading straight for us in the wrong lane? How if Mom hadn't turned around to yell at us, she would've been kept in her seat by her seatbelt and not been thrown across two lanes of traffic?" Rachael's voice became choked. "How if my Quinn would have been wearing his football helmet instead of arguing over it with me, he wouldn't have been lying in the hospital for three days with a tube making him breathe because his brain was mush... while I walked away without a scratch?"

She hiccuped and tried to force back the grief that was stuck in her throat. Quinn sat on the bed beside her and pulled her into his arms, and she finally let the tears fall. He held her as she let go of the years of guilt in great, shaking sobs.

"It was all my fault Quinn. I am so sorry," Rachael sobbed. "I'm so sorry. It was your helmet and I took it and I wore it, and I'm so sorry that you died."

All Quinn could do was let her cry. He'd had no idea how messed up Rachael had been by the accident, and it angered him that nobody on her world had been there to help her deal with her grief.

"It's okay," he whispered. "I don't blame you." He smoothed her hair away from her salty face and, when she had calmed a bit more, he scooted her over in the bed so he could lie beside her.

"It wasn't your fault, you know that," he told her as she wiped her eyes. "You're a smart girl, Rachael. You can't live your life blaming yourself, because you have places to go and things to do. You'll get through this." Quinn looked down at her nestled against his chest. The night's ordeal, combined with the painkillers, had been too much and she was already asleep.

"I'll help you somehow. I promise," he told her sleeping form.

-----

Arturo was lying on his back somewhere in the middle of Golden Gate Park, still stunned from another rough landing, when a face hovering above him replaced the wormhole.

"So, what does Ziggy say we're here to do?" Then Rachael smiled, looking from the timer in his hand to his unamused face. Her grin broadened as she offered Arturo her good hand. He was pleased to note the change in her attitude, even though her sense of humor hadn't been affected.

"We have a little over a week on this world, Miss Mallory," he replied with the emphasis on Miss. "And as I've told you before, sliding doesn't--"

"Uh huh, whatever," she interrupted, already walking off to explore. Arturo just sighed.

They had somehow landed in Golden Gate Park this time, so they spent the next half hour comparing landmarks and people, trying to figure out if this was the world from which Quinn, Wade, and Rembrandt had started their journey. The Golden Gate Bridge was the right color, and Crazy Kenny was still arguing the evils of communism under the statue of Abe Lincoln. Some of the brick buildings of the University could be seen from where they were standing, so Arturo suggested that they visit the library and read up on this world's history, just to be sure.

But this was not their world. They soon discovered that the buildings that they had seen did not belong to the University at all. Instead, a sign declared that this was the San Francisco Order of Gray Nuns.

Rembrandt kicked at the grass. "You know, I was really starting to get my hopes up that this was home." He turned and started walking back to the park, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.

Maggie ran to catch up with him and put her arm around his waist, pulling him into a hug. "It's just that it looks so much like I remember it," he told her.

"Hey, Remmy," she tried to cheer him up. "I saw a sign back there for a bus tour to Nevada. What do ya say? You, me, maybe some gambling." She raised an eyebrow invitingly.

Rembrandt seemed to perk up at the idea. "Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, girl. We could take in a few shows and be back here in time for the slide." He turned to the others. "What do you guys think?"

Wade shook her head. "Not me. I'm going to stick around here, do a little sight seeing. Max?"

"I never had the pleasure of visiting Los Vegas on my world, so I think I will accompany you, Mr. Brown," Arturo replied. "If you don't mind, that is."

"The more, the merrier." Rembrandt liked this idea more and more. "What about you, Q-ball? Can I interest you in a little gambling? You would love the show girls."

Quinn also declined. "Rachael and I have a little catching up to do. But go, have some fun. Maggie, hold on to the money," he warned. "Rembrandt has a habit of betting away the savings."

Rembrandt just waved his hand, dismissing Quinn. "It only happened twice."

"Just make sure your back for the slide," Quinn reminded them. "It's just after ten on Thursday, so we'll meet at the Dominion at nine."

-----

Wade, Rachael, and Quinn checked in to the Dominion Hotel once again. Rachael surveyed their room carefully. "Didn't we just leave this party?" she remarked.

"Welcome to the wild world of sliding," Quinn told her, "where every world is different, but the same."

"So what you're saying is that there are worlds that are different only by, say, a street name, or something like that?" Rachael asked.

Quinn nodded, and Rachael continued her train of thought. "Then, suppose you landed on a world where the only difference was maybe whether you wore a blue shirt on your tenth birthday instead of a red one. How would you know when you really found the world you were looking for?"

"Well, our Professor - Max's double - theorized that there had to be some sort of filter that dictates the existence of only significantly different worlds," he explained. "Therefor..."

"Whoa," Wade interrupted. "Looks like you don't need me for this discussion. I think I'm going to go do a little shopping. It's been days since I've seen a change of clothes. Meet you guys back here for supper?"

Quinn looked up from the discussion. "Sure. Back here for supper."

"Um, I was wondering," Rachael looked at Wade and felt a little shy asking, "if maybe I could come with you? I mean, a change of clothes would be really good right now." Rachael figured that if she was going to be spending time with Quinn, it would probably be a good idea to be on friendly terms with Wade. Plus, she really could use a change of clothes.

"Fine by me," Wade replied. "Quinn, you want to come too?"

"Nope. Shopping's not my thing. I'll catch up with you two later," he told them.

After they left, Quinn pulled out the phone book and flipped through until he found a listing for Mallory. It was something he liked to do on each world, see if his family existed. More often than not, they did. On this world, there was a listing for a M. Mallory, same address as Quinn's mother's house back home.

Quinn grabbed a room key from the table and headed off to the library.

-----

Quinn stopped at the white picket fence in front of the house. He had confirmed that the 'M. Mallory' in question was indeed Michael Mallory, husband of Linda. He had made a trip to the Hall of Records and discovered that Linda Mallory was now deceased, although Quinn did find birth records for one Rachael Anne Mallory. Apparently, Quinn did not exist here.

Now he wasn't sure that what he was planning was such a good idea. Quinn had made a promise to Rachael that he wouldn't leave her like everyone else in her life had. But now he found himself considering doing the same thing. He knew that there was no way he could keep her safe while they were sliding. For one thing, Rachael was just too stubborn, and was very likely to go off on her own if she didn't agree with the rest of the group. For another, Rachael hadn't even finished school, not that she wasn't years ahead of her grade, but there was more to school than grades. What she needed was a stable home, something Quinn could not provide for her right now.

Something that maybe he could find for her on this world. Quinn rang the doorbell, and was struck again by that familiar feeling of loss when Michael opened the door.

"Can I help you?" Michael asked when Quinn didn't say anything.

Quinn cleared his throat. "Uh, Mr. Mallory? My name's Quinn. Can we talk?"

-----

It was almost ten by the time Quinn returned to the hotel. As he opened the door to their room, he heard Rachael asking, "So you guys were naked?" Her voice cracked in disbelief. "The whole time?"

"Uh huh," Wade nodded. "The whole slide."

"No way I could have done that." Rachael shook her head.

"It was either that or run the risk of getting in trouble because we stuck out. Besides, it wasn't so bad," Wade replied.

"Easy for you to say." Quinn tossed his keys on the table. "You weren't the one who got poison ivy."

"Where?" Rachael asked innocently.

Quinn's face turned a deep shade of red, and Wade started laughing. "In the park," he replied and tried to change the subject. "So, I guess you ate without me?"

Rachael wiped the tears from her eyes. She hadn't laughed this hard in ages. "Yeah. Where were you?"

"I met up with a friend," he answered. "I'd like you to come with me to meet them tomorrow."

Wade nodded. "There's some fries in the fridge for you." She tossed a plastic shopping bag at him. "And clean boxers and a shirt in here."

"Thanks, mom." He ruffled her hair as he passed on his way to the shower, and she took a playful swing at him. Rachael snickered at their behavior. He was glad that Rachael and Wade were getting along. It might help in the long run.

-----

"So, who are these people we're meeting?" Rachael asked as they arrived at the Mallory house.

"You'll see when we meet them." Quinn wished that Wade had come along as backup, but when he had explained his plan to her the night before, she had told Quinn that although this might be a good thing for Rachael, it was between him and Rachael to figure it out.

When the door opened, Rachael felt like she was looking in a mirror. There were only a few subtle differences; this girl's hair was shorter and her arm was not cradled in a sling. But she was definitely staring at herself.

"Hey, cool. You're here." The girl greeted them with a smile. "My name's Rachael, but everybody calls me Halie. Dad's in the back. He can't wait to meet you."

Rachael and Quinn followed her out to the backyard. Halie's father was crouched over a lawnmower, parts of it strewn around him. When he stood and turned to greet his guests, Rachael gasped.

"Dad," she whispered under her breath. She suddenly realized what Quinn had in mind. She turned on him angrily. "How could you?" she spat at him. "You're going to leave me here just like everyone else does. I should have known that you weren't any different." With that, Rachael turned and ran back the way she had come.

Quinn stared after her open mouthed for a moment and then called, "Rachael. Wait!" *Not again,* he thought as he ran after her.

-----

Quinn found her sitting on the front steps of the house. When she saw him, she scrubbed the tears from her cheek with her good arm and turned away from him. Quinn sat beside her and waited.

"I'm sorry," Quinn said after a long silence. Rachael continued to ignore him.

"I wanted you to meet them before we made any decisions," he told her. "I should have told you first."

"You've already decided. You're going to leave me." Rachael still wouldn't look at Quinn.

"No," he told her. "I wanted you to meet them and then we could talk about our options."

"Why?"

"Because I can't protect you when we slide."

Rachael finally turned to look at Quinn. "I can look after myself. I've been doing it for a long time."

"Maybe you can on your world. But not on every world. There are times when I can barely look after myself." Quinn hoped he was getting through to her, but her angry glare told him otherwise.

He tried another tactic. "I've lost one person that I cared for while sliding. I couldn't forgive myself if I lost you as well."

"You let the others decide for themselves, why can't I? Or don't you care about them?" Low blow.

"The difference," he told her, "is that they're all adults, and I can't make them do anything they don't want to do. They all have the choice to leave at any time they want."

Rachael still glared at him. "So what am I? Some baby that doesn't know anything? I know what's best for me."

"I don't think you do sometimes." Rachael opened her mouth to protest, but Quinn cut her off. "I think you go with your gut reaction and the hell with how it affects everyone else. Did you even stop to think that about what might have happened if the rescue hadn't worked so well?" Quinn's voice was raised now but he didn't even notice. "Never mind that you could have died or worse, but what could have happened if Maggie hadn't gotten the gun away from Artie? I would have had a lot more than this scratch on my head, for one thing. And what would have happened to Wade and Remmy? Did you even consider that?"

Rachael looked at Quinn, shocked. Nobody had dared yell at her like that in a long time. But everything Quinn had said was true. She had run off without thinking about anybody else but herself, and these people - these strangers - had put their lives on the line to rescue her.

Rachael's lip trembled and she fought to hold back the tears. Quinn's tone softened and he told her, "That's what family does. We look out for each other. That's what I'm trying to do here. You need a place where you can feel safe and cared for. I can't give you that while we're sliding. These people can."

Rachael heard a cough behind her and looked up to see Michael Mallory standing in the doorway. He had heard the whole exchange, and now Rachael felt embarrassed by her behavior.

"Can we try this again?" he asked her. "I'm Michael, and you are very much like my Halie." He invited them into the house where he offered them drinks while he talked a bit about himself and his daughter.

-----

By the end of the afternoon, Rachael had learned that Michael was a research physicist on contract with the local university, and Halie would be finishing high school the next spring, almost a full year ahead of her classmates. She also learned that Halie's mother had passed away of cancer twelve years before, and Michael had raised Halie on his own ever since. The two of them were very close, and by the time Quinn and Rachael said their good-byes that evening, Rachael had to admit that they seemed like nice people, and she even promised that she would return the next day to get to know them better.

In truth, Rachael knew that Quinn had been right all along. Here were people that were willing to give her the home she needed, and keep her safe in ways that she would never be while she was sliding. And she couldn't help but like Halie, although it took some getting used to being around someone that looked exactly like you and almost always knew what you were thinking. Rachael figured that she could handle having Halie as a twin sister.

The day before the slide, Rachael had made up her mind. She would stay with Michael and Halie. What had made up her mind was the fact that Halie and Michael actually wanted Rachael to stay with them, even going so far as to offer her a room of her own with a big window.

She told Quinn of her decision on Thursday morning.

"I think I'm going to stay, Quinn," she blurted out over breakfast at the Mallory's house.

Quinn swallowed his mouthful of juice and asked, "Are you sure?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachael could see Halie smile at her. They had become close during their week together. "Yeah, I'm sure," she replied. "If you'll still have me, that is." She looked at Michael questioningly.

He nodded at her and smiled. "We were hoping you'd say that. Halie's been making plans for your room all week."

Quinn turned to Michael. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Michael shook his head. "I would only hope that someone would do the same for Halie if anything were to ever happen to me."

"So, Quinn, I was wondering if maybe we could spend the day together," Rachael asked. "Just you and me." She thought for a moment. "And Wade too. I want to thank her for taking me shopping and, you know, saving my life and stuff."

-----

They spent the rest of the day touring San Francisco. Wade bought a disposable camera and took pictures of Quinn and Rachael together.

Rachael spent most of the day with a smile on her face, but inside she was reluctantly counting down to the slide. She knew she would be happy on this world, but at the same time, she didn't want to say good-bye to Quinn.

They had left a message at the Dominion for Maggie, Rembrandt, and Arturo to meet them at Michael's place, and as they approached the house, Rachael became quiet.

"We'll come back and visit, you know," Quinn said as if he read her mind.

Rachael shook her head. "No. I don't think you will."

"Sure we will," he replied. "I promise."

"Don't make a promise you can't keep, Quinn," she told him. "I have a pretty good idea what your lives are like. If you could have gone home by now, you would have."

Quinn knew she was right. "I'll try."

Rachael looked up at him and smiled sadly. "I won't be waiting." She had a chance at a new life here and she couldn't really live it if she was waiting for her past to catch up with her. She glanced at Wade who was walking ahead, giving them a bit of privacy. "You've got a pretty good thing here, bro. Don't screw it up, okay?" She playfully punched him on the shoulder.

Quinn just grinned at her and shook his head. Then he flung an arm over her shoulders as they walked.

They found Rembrandt, Maggie, and Arturo waiting for them on the front steps with Halie and Michael.

"Nice of you to show up," Maggie greeted them.

"Hey, we were just--" Wade was about to argue.

Rembrandt cut her off. "We know. They filled us in." He pointed with a thumb towards Michael. "We're going to miss you, girl." He pulled a surprised Rachael into a hug.

"Uh, thanks," she replied uncertainly. Damn, they were going to make this hard for her.

Arturo came over to her and took her hand. "Your have a bright future ahead of you, Miss... Rachael." She smiled at him but could feel the tears welling up. "Just remember to look before you leap," he told her.

Wade had the timer out and was checking the readout. "Four minutes," she announced.

Maggie was next. "You've got guts, kid. Take care, okay?" Rachael could tell that she wasn't big on words.

Wade handed an envelope to Rachael. "The pictures from today," she explained. Rachael accepted them, and then impulsively threw her arms around Wade.

"Thank you," she whispered. "And take care of my brother, alright?" Wade nodded and then stepped away so Rachael could talk to Quinn.

She could feel the tears on her cheeks now, but it didn't stop her from wrapping her arms tightly around Quinn. "Thanks," she told him. "For everything."

Behind them, the vortex opened with a roar of wind. Rachael opened the enveloped and handed a couple of the pictures to Quinn. Maggie and Rembrandt had already jumped through the vortex and Arturo was just about to leap.

"Go!" Rachael shouted over the sound of the wind. "Don't miss the slide." She left Quinn to stand over by Michael and Halie.

Quinn turned to look at her one more time as Wade grabbed his hand. He smiled at Rachael and then they both disappeared into the swirling blueness.

Just as suddenly as it had appeared, now the yard was dark again. Rachael turned and went into the house with her new family.

THE END