Title: Remember Me This Way
Author's LJ/DWJ: azarsuerte 
Categories: Crossover
Warnings: none
Author's Webpage/Fic list: Probable Impossibilities, Fantastic Visions (vids),
Why this should be read:

When Sam Leaps into Jack O'Neill, a man whose son is dead and whose marriage is crumbling, he thinks his mission is clear. Or is it?

This was the best fic to come out of The Stargate/Quantum Leap Ficathon.

“—ry, but I’m cutting you off, Colonel.”

Dr. Sam Beckett blinked as the light of the Leap faded and his new surroundings came into focus. He was sitting at a bar, facing a gray-haired bartender who had both palms flat on the counter, studying him with a look that was both firm and sympathetic. For a second, he thought he was back at Al’s Place, but no...this bar was more—for lack of better word—terrestrial. It was dark, murky, and based on the CD-based juke box, a lot closer to his own present than 1952. Although what was his own present anymore? He’d been Leaping for so long, he wasn’t even sure if he could justify laying claim to whatever was the present day for his colleagues back at the Project.

“Wh-what?” the time traveler stammered, still disoriented.

The bartender sighed. “Don’t argue with me, Jack. I know this hasn’t been an easy time for you, and I understand why, but...” He paused, glancing towards the door as if expecting someone.

Jack. Okay, so apparently that was his name this time around. “I wasn’t arguing, I just...” Sam trailed off, not quite sure how to finish that sentence. The first few minutes of a Leap, before Al showed up, were always a bit confusing; at least this time he had the excuse of being—apparently—drunk. “I...how many have I had?”

The other man chuckled. “I rest my case. Look, Sara should be here in a few minutes—“

“Sara?” Sam interrupted.

“I called her,” the bartender offered defensively, straightening up and taking a step back as if anticipating a violent response. “Look, Jack, I won’t pretend I know what you’re going through. I can’t even imagine losing one of my kids. But if you’re not careful, you’re going to lose her too.”

So now he had four pieces of information: his name was Jack. He was a Colonel in some branch of the military—probably the American military, judging by the accents of those around him. He’d recently lost a child and had apparently been trying to drown the memory in alcohol, and he had someone in his life named Sara—either a wife or girlfriend, probably the child’s mother—whom he was also in danger of losing.

If only most Leaps were this informative in the first few minutes, he thought wryly.

The bartender apparently took his silence as reproach, because he leaned across the counter and placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “You had no damned way of knowing he’d figured out how to take the safety off. Hell, you weren’t even in the room. It wasn’t your fault.”

More pieces fell into place. Oh God...