Semper Fi

By Ann3

Writer's Note: I know it's a long running Stargate in-joke to get a MacGyver reference in somewhere. And I know I've used it already, but... well, I just couldn't resist using it again here. Quite the ingenious little devil, is our Carson - although not everyone appreciates it... ;o)

Speaking of appreciation, thanks for the reviews ! I've come down with a stinking cold, and these reviews have cheered me up no end !!

So, meds permitting, back to the plot, and the first of today's updates... now then, Dr Beckett, what are you up to...?

Chapter Eleven

Medical MacGyvers

It was still there. A small velvet box, ready to house its most precious secret, still rested in his pocket. Now all he had to do was choose something appropriate, something she'd like, to actually go in it – and, somewhat more trickily, to convince the politely wary sales assistant that he was not completely insane.

"I – I dinnae actually... um... know her size, ye see..." Carson explained, trying out his very best smile. "An' this was... well, it... um... was the only... um... only way I could find out, without her knowin'..."

Another raised eyebrow suggested that famous, heart-melting smile might need a little fine tuning. Then again, Carson dryly reflected, following the woman's line of sight, he couldn't really blame her.

Here he was, making a real numpty of himself, at the jewellery counter of Jenners' department store. He was expecting Miss Cordiality to find him the most precious gift a husband could give his bride – trying to make that prestigious, once in a lifetime choice through a flimsy circle of tatty woollen string.

He'd felt so proud of himself last night, ingeniously measuring Laura's finger without waking her. Now all Carson felt, aside from the deepening heat in his cheeks, was a complete and utter eejit.

'I bet Richard Dean bloody Anderson never had this trouble...'

Eyeing this circle of ingenuity in silent disdain, the assistant finally found her equally sniffy voice.

"And how much are you planning to spend, sir...?"

God, his bank manager would have a bloody coronary over this, but... well, needs and pride must. If he said anything less than four figures here, not counting the decimal point, he was done for. Miss Cordiality would probably have a fit of the vapours. More to the point, Laura would strangle him

Even if he survived all that, he'd never be able to show his face in Edinburgh, or Scotland, again. So this seemed as good a time as any to bring that re-tuned, heart-melting smile out for a test run.

"Och, whatever it takes..." Carson said at last, with more breezy confidence than he honestly felt – nodding, somewhat lamely, to his improvised stand-in as he subtly upped the heart-melting ante.

"However cheap this bit o' string may look to ye, my dear, my lady's... well, my lady's priceless..."

Was he imagining it, or had that glacially disapproving face defrosted enough to smile back at him...? No, the flat-line mouth really had defied the laws of gravity, and really had lifted up at its corners.

Jackpot.

Elated by this near miraculous achievement, it was all Carson could do not to do a celebratory jig around the counter. The big blue eyes, the dimples, the shy, little-boy-lost smile... oh yes, the boy Beckett still had it.

A healthy, in the black bank balance, though...? Ah. Yes. Now that was another matter entirely. This bloody pad would bankrupt him. Maybe priceless had been slightly the wrong word to choose.

'Oh, crap...'

Panic was just rising into all out, 'the-Wraith-are-on-the-bloody-doorstep, Colonel...!' hysteria when...

...oh, thank God, yes. Yes...! Yes...!! Yes...!!!

"Could – Could I see that one, please...? Aye, fifth row down, the... um... aye, second from the left..."

God, it was perfect. Just bloody perfect...! Carson could feel his eyes welling up just looking at it. Now, was this miraculous blessing of luck set to continue...?

Another approving smile. Out came the sizer. On went that precious band of delicately crafted gold.

Down to size O. N. M. L. K.

'Come on, ye wee beauty, one more... one more... one more...'

According to a flimsy piece of string, Laura's ring size was a slim and slender, easy to find J.

And the score on that all important, crucial, graded cone of metal...?

Carson almost felt his knees give way, in pure relief, as he checked and re-checked that precious sizer. He'd done it...! By all that was holy, fatefully destined, silently prayed for, he'd really bloody done it...!

Well, he'd almost done it. Carson didn't know it yet, but all his careful planning counted for nought. The conspiracy which he'd so lovingly, so gently, so painstakingly, set into play last night had failed. Because at the top of the staircase behind him, unseen and unnoticed, two eyes saucered in utter disbelief.