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" 'BRP reports record number of applications for summer breeding'..What the devil...BRP!? Are we back on the world where the virus killed off almost all the men?" Rembrandt asked, holding up the paper Wade had handed him.

"It sure looks that way," Wade answered. She was attempting to help Quinn dry his hair with some paper towels, but it wasn't going too well. In addition to the fact that Quinn stood a good foot taller than her, the paper towels were the cheap kind and disintegrated after a few strokes.

"But how is that possible? It's never happened before, except for that time we were tracking Rickman," Rembrandt asked them as he peeked out the restroom door, hoping against hope that the park would remain deserted for a little longer. Normally, he wouldn't mind being on a world filled with ladies vying for a piece of the Cryin' Man--but this world wasn't exactly what he had in mind.

"Well, almost anything is possible with sliding," Quinn said. "If we assume sliding is totally random, then we have to assume that there is no reason why we couldn't land on a few worlds more than once. If we could only land on an earth once, we'd never land on our earth again. The odds of us relanding on an earth *are* pretty slim, but it doesn't mean it can't happen."

"Well, that's all well and good, but the question now is, what are we gonna do about it. I mean, we can't just walk around in public here..." Rembrandt responded.

"I've got an idea. Not a great one, but it'll have to do," Wade said, brushing the last bit of paper towel residue from Quinn's hair. "Give me your wallet," she said to Quinn. "You guys stay here..hide out in one of the stalls until I get back.

"What do you need my wallet for?" Quinn asked as he pulled it out of his pants pocket and handed it to her. "And what are you planning?"

"I need some money, and you've got all our cash and cards. And don't worry about my plan-- the less you know the better. Now stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can." She handed Quinn the timer. "Just in case something happens. You know--if the cops see me and recognize me or something." At that comment, Quinn gave her a worried look.

Wade headed for the door. As she reached for the handle, Quinn grabbed her arm. "Be careful," he told her, his voice low and serious. "I mean it."

"Don't worry. I'll be OK," she reassured him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. Then she opened the door slightly and slipped out.

Quinn held the door open a crack and watched Wade as she sprinted across the grass. He hoped she was right--that she'd be OK. Losing both the Professor and Maggie was still fresh in Quinn's mind, and he blamed himself for both of those losses. If it hadn't been for Wade, he didn't know how he would have gotten through it. If anything happened to her too...

"Don't worry, Q-Ball. Wade'll be OK. She knows what she's doing," Rembrandt said, his voice once again echoing through the confines of the room.

"Yeah, I hope you're right," Quinn said softly, closing the door with a thud.

Read part 3