Dr. Janet Fraiser forced herself to smile at the polite clapping as she stepped away from the lectern. She could tell that there was definite interest in the breakthrough medicines that she was presenting to her international colleagues, but speeches always made her more than a little nervous. It didn't help at all that one of the men from Great Britain looked like he very much did not want to be there.

Concerned about her lecture, she pulled him aside after the other speakers had finished. "Excuse me," she said, "Doctor…"

"Beckett," he filled in, speaking with a strong Scottish accent. "Dr. Carson Beckett."

"There seemed to be something wrong with my presentation, and I was wondering if you could help me fix the problem, for future reference."

"You are a straightforward lass," Beckett remarked admiringly, "but I must tell ye frankly that you were not the problem at all. The subject was fascinating, and the speaker was charming." Janet felt herself blush faintly, but he, not realizing what he had just said, continued, "However, I do not enjoy coming to these military-run conferences."

The small redhead wrinkled her nose in confusion, "I'm sorry… aren't you here because you're part of your country's military medical staff?"

"Aye, and that's just the problem. Not only do they dictate my work, but they also send me to conferences which I do not need to go to, and do not want to go to. I never like to travel at all, and I like it less when it doesn't even help with my own research."

"I see." Janet smiled. "What area of research do you specialize in, Doctor?"

"Call me Carson. Besides patching up the soldiers after they try to kill themselves doing who-knows-what, I study human genetics."

A light suddenly switched on in Fraiser's mind, and her smile grew. "Oh! Beckett… I remember reading a paper a while back that you published about a new gene which you had discovered existed in selected humans. It was brilliant, methodical…"

Carson beamed. "Oh, thank you, Doctor."

"Janet."

"Janet… So, how did you get a hold of that paper? It was very recent, and I only submitted it to the military…"

"Oh, our governments work very closely on a lot of things, including medicine, so they let me and some other military doctors have a look at some of their classified papers every once in a while."

"Well, it's good to know that someone besides the generals reads them."

"Several someones. And I loved it. It was very well-written, very personable."

The hall began to empty, and the duo moved at a slow walk towards the garage. "So, what papers have you written, lass? Besides the classified ones, o' course."

"Probably none that would interest you."

"I don't know about that. You could tell me about them over lunch."

"I would love that, but I actually have to be getting back to the base. There's a television crew coming through to film a documentary, and I know some people who will need emotional support."

Beckett chuckled understandingly. "Well, maybe we'll run into each other at another conference, then."

"I would like that." She climbed into her car with a light feeling as the Scotsman held the door for her. As she drove off, she observed to herself that he seemed like a pleasant sort of person, and one who she would like to get to know better. Therefore, she scribbled down his name on a sticky pad at the next stoplight to remind herself.

Unfortunately, she never attended another medical conference.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xx

Approximately one year after Carson Beckett's meeting with Janet Fraiser, he had much more important matters to think about than attending medical conferences.

"Antarctica?" he exclaimed incredulously into his telephone. "You're transferring me to Antarctica?"

"Sorry, Doctor," a very unsympathetic Rodney McKay replied, "you might be useful to us."

"Might?" he stressed hopefully.

"Ha, nice try. You're coming. You'll receive the official call from your government soon. I was just kind enough to give you advance warning."

"You mean so I'll be ready sooner and can get down there faster."

"Well, yes."

"You don't really expect that I'll be of any help to ye, do you?"

"You did discover the ancient gene, Carson."

"Aye. I wish I never had."

"Really? But you have it."

"Don't sound so incredulous, Doctor McKay. The Ancient equipment terrifies me."

McKay didn't care. "Well, that's nice. See you soon."

Beckett reluctantly began to pack his things, thinking about his new assignment. He had been part of the Stargate program for a short while, but he didn't want to have to tell his mum that he would be stuck in Antarctica for who-knew-how-long. Then again, there was always the chance he'd prove unhelpful, and be back in Scotland before she knew he was gone. Beckett sighed, picked up the phone, and dialed her number.