Omari regained her strength slowly. Alison visited her daily, smiling as the other woman spoke of her plans to eat once she could stomach real food. She truly liked Omari, and she knew she could become very close to her if she allowed herself. But did she want to risk losing another friend? She'd thought it inevitable a few days ago, but Carson's prognosis seemed to be right. Alison spent hours every night trying to document everything she learned from Omari, whether medical or personal. She'd never thought about keeping a diary of any kind, but she just naturally started writing down everything she experienced. It took her almost a week before she realized that Carson did the same thing, though he tended to wait until after she'd retired at night.

The ensuing week brought more changes for Carson and Alison. He changed slightly. Seemed very concerned for her, always watching her with those concerned blue eyes. Alison knew she hadn't handled Omari's illness well, and she tried to find the measure of peace she'd had before Vega's demise at the hands of Michael's experiments. She still could not think of them as people, not with the grotesque, deformed bodies that floated through her dreams at night.

Omari finally returned to her home, leaving Carson and Alison with a nearly empty clinic. Carson warned Alison that the epidemic might not be over, but she didn't care. She simply nodded and went to cook their evening meal.

Carson appeared just as it was ready to serve. Alison smiled at him. "You seem to have impeccable timing."

"So I've been told." He smiled at her, crinkling the corners of his eyes and bringing out the dimple in his left cheek. "It smells wonderful."

She flushed. Again. Feeling frustrated that she could not seem to control her reactions to him, she set two plates on the table. "My family spent time in southern New Mexico. These are my mother's version of green chile smothered burritos, using what we have available here, of course. I don't know how good it'll be. . . ."

"I'm sure it'll be fine." He settled at the table and accepted his plate. Once she'd sat down, he sampled the meal, taking time to form an opinion before he spoke. "It's good."

"You're sure?"

"Aye." He reached across the table and touched her hand. "Ali-love, wait until you sample my cooking. It's nowhere near this good."

"I'm sure it'll be fine," she said, deliberately echoing his words from a few moments ago. Alison finally tested the meal and realized he was right. It wasn't green chile, but the local vegetable added a nice Cajun-like spice to the unique Southwestern flavor. She hated the awkwardness that still lingered between them, especially since she'd been here for almost a month now. They may have "lived together," but they really didn't know one another outside of work. And the memories of their last meeting still hovered over them.

Carson ate a few more bites before spearing her with a direct gaze. "Would you like to go away for the day tomorrow?" He shrugged. "I know it's a week late, but. . . ."

"I'd love to." Alison smiled at him. "It will be nice to be away from here."

"Aye." He nodded. "I've already spoken with Omari, and she's given me some cold meat and bread for sandwiches. And her husband found some cheese that is rather like mozzarella cheese, but with a slight cheddar twang."

"Sounds good."

"Great. I'll arrange everything." He finished his meal and left the cabin, his eyes sparkling like they hadn't in a long time. Alison watched him go and then rose to clean the mess she'd made. While he normally did that, she didn't mind this time. She would be getting away from the clinic and sickness.

As she worked, she evaluated her decision to join Carson Beckett. It may have been an honorable decision, but life here was very tough. Death hovered around the corner for any of these people, and she knew enough to realize that Omari's bout with this illness wouldn't be the last. Carson wasn't sure how it spread just yet, but he'd said they may have to move to another world when this one was declared "cured." He'd already visited three worlds, all of them somehow developing the same symptoms although they'd not been previously exposed. He worked to find out why, and Alison wondered if this day away was for her or for him.

Late that night, she woke in a cold sweat. The dreams of Vega's death hadn't returned, but they hovered on the edge of her consciousness. She stared at the ceiling, seeing the moonlight through her curtains. Carson snored softly from his bed in the next corner, and she tugged the curtains back to look at him. He laid on his side, facing her, his hand next to his pillow. The cares he typically carried were gone, and he seemed almost innocent. Though, a man like Carson could never be truly innocent, not in the way that Alison once had been. As a clone and Michael's prisoner, he was responsible for this disease. She suddenly realized that he carried a weight just as heavy, if not heavier, than her own.

She let the curtain drop back into place and rolled onto her side, facing the wall. Did she have a right to fuss and stay awake when Carson had found a way to sleep? How did he do it? She needed to ask him, but asking him would mean revealing things she didn't want to tell anyone. Like how Vega's death had created a deep fear of losing anyone else. Like how she couldn't reach out and be a friend without wondering if the person would die, move, or simply turn on her.

She drifted to sleep before she worked out all of her questions. She woke to the warmth of the sun through the windows of the cabin. Blinking in the brightness, she moved her curtain and realized that Carson had likely been awake for hours. His pallet was neatly made, his lab coat hung on a hook above it, and something smelled wonderful. She sat up and pushed her tousled hair from her face, somewhat embarrassed that he'd see her like this. She heard him puttering around in the kitchen and realized she had no graceful way out of this. Letting out a deep breath, she quickly dressed and slipped from the curtained corner.

Carson stood over the stove, scooping eggs from a skillet and staring at her with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Alison self-consciously smoothed her hair, wishing she knew why he stared the way he had. By the time she glanced back over, he'd recovered from whatever had shocked him and set her plate on the table. A large basket was next to the door, reminding her of all the idyllic stories she'd read of picnics and strolls in the meadow.

They chatted as they ate, and Alison assured him that he wasn't a bad cook. Then, she excused herself to prepare for their day. She had very little clothing outside of the black uniform she'd brought, but she had reserved a corner of her luggage for one flowing spaghetti-strap dress. She wasn't fond of the freckles that dotted her shoulders, but a day in the outdoors seemed perfect for it. She held it up, loving how the fabric draped gracefully without needing to be ironed and dug out the light wrap she wore with it. The blues and purples of the pattern were her favorites, and she dressed quickly.

Carson waited out front, wearing his normal attire and loading their lunch into a pack for them to carry. He turned, and that same dumbfounded expression crossed his face. Instead of staring, though, he walked over to her and smiled. "Ali, you look. . .uh. . . ."

She flushed and smiled. "I'm glad I can render someone speechless."

Just like that, he settled back into the same easy-going manner he'd had before. "Aye. You do it so well, too." He hoisted the pack on his back. "I wanted to get us a buggy or wagon of some sort, but I couldn't find one. It's not a far walk, though. And we can take our time."

"Sounds wonderful." She motioned for him to lead the way, and they fell into step with one another. Alison enjoyed the sun on her shoulders and let her wrap drop for a time. She spent too much time indoors, hunched over a computer or tablet. She needed to be outside, in the fresh air. She already felt the rejuvenating properties of the sun chasing away the lingering weariness.

As they walked, Carson snuck a second look out of the corner of his eye. Alison didn't just look nice. She looked stunning! The dress was simple, white with an abstract purple and teal butterfly pattern, but the effect charmed him completely. He wondered if he'd be able to return to the slightly distant working relationship they'd had in the last couple of weeks and then realized he didn't want to. Clone or not, Carson Beckett's head had been turned.

They arrived at the spot he'd chosen for their picnic a little before noon. Alison had kept her shoulders covered with that light white shawl for most of their walk, but she'd allowed enough sun through that she was glowing. Carson led her to a shady spot at the edge of the meadow, knowing that it would help keep the heat down as well as keeping her from being sunburned. She smiled and helped him unfurl the blanket he'd borrowed from Omari, and they flopped down onto it at the same time.

"Wow." Alison smiled at him. "That was some walk."

"Aye." He shook his head. "I didn't realize it would be so far. I rode in a cart the last time I came."

"That's okay, though." She started digging through their lunch pack and pulled out the cool water. "It was nice."

Carson smiled at her, but he couldn't say anything. He tried to put two coherent sentences together, but it just wouldn't happen. He hadn't been this taken with any woman since Perna, in spite of his brief relationship with Cadman. Any hope for that working out had ended with his death and subsequent resurrection. Now, to find that same excitement and attraction in such a dark place as an epidemic clinic surprised him.

Feeling the awkwardness start to creep in, he fished for a topic of conversation. "So, do you enjoy being outdoors often?" Then, he nearly kicked himself. What a way to start off a conversation!

"No." Alison shrugged. "Well, I did when I was a kid, but I went to college and had so much stuff happen that I kind of got out of the habit."

He glanced around. "Aye, I know how you feel. It's not quite like home, but I like it here."

"Where is home?"

"Paisley, just east of Glasgow. Well, it was after medical school. Before that, I lived near Wick, in the highlands." He let out a deep breath. "I went back after Dr. Keller brought me out of that stasis pod. It just wasn't the same."

"Why?"

"My mum had moved to a retirement community." He glanced at her, his somber mood still not dimming his appreciation of her appearance. "She'd been there for six months, and the family home had been sold."

"I'm so sorry to hear that." Alison reached out and touched his shoulder, her regret almost palpable.

"Thank ya." He shrugged. "But what was I to do? I couldn't just go back and tell her that the military had made a mistake, because they hadn't." Realizing how depressing the mood had become, he met her eyes. "What about you?"

She shrugged, and the light wrap she'd used to shield her shoulders from the sun fell away, revealing those adorable freckles. "I'm from everywhere," she said with a chuckle. "I was born in northern California, and my father was in the Army for a time."

"So you traveled a lot."

"Yeah."

"See anythin' interesting?"

"Um. . .the Grand Canyon, Florida, and we spent a bit of time in New Mexico." She smiled. "Once Daddy retired, we settled in Stockton, California until I came here."

"You're well-traveled for a youngster," he said with a chuckle, recalling his original statement back before Vega's death.

She snorted. "Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving. I'm not as young as you might think."

"You can't be more than twenty-eight, twenty-nine at the eldest."

"Thirty-four, almost thirty-five." She smiled. "But thank you for the compliment."

Carson stared at her. She was in her mid-thirties? How was that possible? "So, you didn't attend university right out of school?"

Her face fell, and he realized she had her own regrets about life. "No. My father passed away when I was a junior in high school, and my mom was diagnosed with cancer a year later." She shook her head. "I stayed home to care for her."

"I'm so sorry, lass."

"Don't be." She smiled. "It was tough for my mom, but we made it. And I'm glad I did, now. She's the reason I went into medicine when I finally got the chance to go to school."

"Aye," he sat up and grabbed their lunch. "My father was a doctor, so I just naturally followed in his footsteps."

Alison shook her head. "No, for me, I found out I loved helping people even when it was hard."

"What about your mother?"

"She went into remission and has stayed cancer-free for the last five years." Alison's smile nearly stretched off of her face.

"That's incredible!" He grinned with her, feeling the taste of victory he always felt even though he wasn't the doctor who had treated her mother. "And you never met anyone during that time?"

"Once." She shrugged, her face clearing in such a way that he realized he'd touched on a nerve. Alison may have looked innocent, but she had the ability to cover her true emotions with ease. "But it didn't work out."

He nodded. "Aye, I know the feeling." He shook his head. "I dated a Marine, once. But our first kiss was through Rodney, so it never really worked quite right."

She stared at him. "Through Rodney? As in. . .?"

"Aye." He smiled, happy to see the sparkle returning to her eyes. "She was trapped inside his head, and she took over his body and made him. . .kiss me."

Alison laughed, a pure, clear sound that carried on the breeze. "Oh, Carson, I'm sorry. But that's funny!"

"Aye, I suppose it is." He gave her a long-suffering look before deciding to change the topic. "So, what about hobbies? Do you have any?"

"Besides reading?" She accepted her lunch and thought about the question. "No."

"No?" That surprised him. "You seem like the type to have played a musical instrument or some such thing."

She laughed again. "I did play piano for a time." Then, she sobered. "I wanted to learn violin, but my mom wanted me to learn piano. I endured those lessons." She eyed him. "What about you? Do you play a musical instrument?"

"Me? No!" He grinned at her. "But I do fish."

"I remember going fishing with my dad." Her face turned wistful as she ate a few bites. "When we lived in Florida, Daddy would borrow one of my uncle's boats and take us out onto the Gulf of Mexico. We'd fish for what we called 'grunt' and have a fish fry in the yard after that."

"It sounds charming."

"It was." She paused, and he let her eat in silence. He could see the stress lifting from her face in spite of the regrets and sorrows of life in the past. Finally, she grinned at him. "Do you ever get to go fishing, now?"

"Once." Carson finished his meal and stretched out on the blanket, propping his head on his hand. "There's a lovely fishing hole not too far from here. I can take you to see it."

Alison glanced over her shoulder in the direction he'd indicated. "I'd like that."

They quickly packed up the remains of their lunch, and Carson set the pack next to a tree. "We're not going far."

Alison followed him, and, before long, they walked side-by-side again. As she stepped around a stump, her hand brushed his, and he naturally took hold to help her climb over a fallen log. Rather than pulling away, Alison flushed but laced her fingers with his. Carson smiled at her and made sure to keep her close the entire way to the fishing hole. He realized in those few moments that he could easily fall in love with this woman, if he hadn't already.

oOo

At the fishing hole, Alison stared. She'd expected a quiet river, not a waterfall that splashed and danced over several outcroppings. "No wonder you knew of the waterfall."

"Aye." He still held her hand as he led her around the edge of the pond. "The fish here come to this location to breed. Much like salmon do on Earth. A lot of the village's food is taken from this pond."

Alison suppressed a shiver as his shoulder brushed her arm. She'd fallen a little bit in love with him today, hearing him talk about regrets and some of their conversation. The discomfort on his face when he told her about Rodney/Cadman kissing him had been endearing, and she'd laughed for the first time in a long time. Truly laughed, not just shared a chuckle. Even now, she felt the smile stretching her lips as she stared up at the waterfall. "Carson, this is beautiful."

"Aye, it is." His voice, so soft, made her turn to him. He wasn't looking at the waterfall but stared directly at her. Rather than shifting his gaze away, he merely smiled.

Alison's heart did a flip-flop when his eyes dropped to her lips. She knew he hadn't brought her here for this, but she liked the idea that he wanted to kiss her. Turning to face him, she smiled when he released her hand. He touched her cheek, his fingers warm against her skin and sending a thrill down her spine. Then, ever so gently, he kissed her.

Alison let out a quick breath as the kiss intensified. She stepped closer to Carson, feeling his arms go around her as he deepened the kiss. Just as she thought she'd pass out from the intensity, he pulled back and stared into her eyes with surprise. "Ali-love, this isn't why. . . ."

"I know." She ran a finger over the short hairs on the back of his neck. "But I'm glad you did."

He smiled and glanced down, but didn't release her. They stayed like that for a long time, simply enjoying the scenery and the quiet. Alison laid her head on his shoulder, loving the change from the first two times he'd held her. Back then, he comforted her. This time, she felt cherished.

Finally, Carson moved. "We should get back."

"I know."

He kissed her one more time, this time lingering long enough to smile directly into her eyes. Then, taking her hand, he led her back to their picnic site and then the rest of the way home. They laughed as they walked, but Alison felt the difference. Something had shifted during their day away. They were no longer just two people working together. While they had a lot to learn of each other, they had started down a path to becoming more than friends and colleagues. As she drifted to sleep, Alison smiled. She'd never felt so special in her life. This was definitely worth the sunburn she'd have by morning.

~TBC