I apologise for the West of Scotland references in this piece. Irn Bru ™ is a popular, if not cult-like soft drink in the region that Beckett comes from. Tunnocks caramet logs are also a local delicacy. I don't own them, I don't own anything in this story…

This chapter is dedicated to the posters in the Beckett's Haggis thread in Gateworld

Chapter 2

Never get between the man and his can

Carson Beckett stared at the aluminum can in front of him. It was pristine, it was untouched. It hadn't even been dented. It had survived being ripped apart to quarks and put back together again by the unnaturalness of wormhole travel. He shivered deep into his soul. Wormhole travel wasn't right, but miraculously his can of Irn Bru had made it through intact.

It was the only one in the Pegasus galaxy, in fact.

The trouble was, did the circumstances justify its use?

Well, his head felt like a clootie dumpling, it had to admit. But it had been a great night, and well worth the aftereffects. Even if he couldn't remember past the drinking competition with Teyla. However, he wasn't the only one who'd had overindulged, judging by the number of visitors he'd had this morning complaining about headaches, upset stomachs and lack of memory.

The Athosians had informed the residents of the city that their first crop had been ready for consumption, gin – well, at least that was the nearest Sheppard had managed to define it. Judging by its potent effects calling it gin wasn't far off the mark either. After some persuasion Dr Weir had been convinced of the need for the beleaguered residents of the city to have a party.

Leaving a skeleton crew manning the control room, the rest of the Atlanteans had crowded into the mess room. It had been a great night. Beckett had finally got round to meeting some members of the expedition; he'd found another two Scots, one of which, Heather, a tall, curly red-haired astronomer from near his home town had given him an odd look when he'd told her about his secret haggis stash. Heather, it had to be admitted, had spent most of the night giggling in the corner with her friend Mel, an American physicist, and who, at one point were trying to convince Major Sheppard to sing. The other Scot, Susan, from Archaeology, a lassie from Loch Lomond no less. Small and dark haired with the face of an angel he'd quite taken to her. Then there was Michelle, the petite, dark haired English girl – he smiled to himself, a bonny lassie as well. Life in Atlantis was now looking up! Perhaps it had been worth coming through that godforsaken wormhole.

That can of Irn Bru looked beautiful, he mused. Cold, he could see the condensation dulling the vibrant orange and blue colours. He really, really wanted it. He swallowed hard, imagining the bubbles of the orange liquid hitting the back of his dry throat, And that taste, uniquely Irn Bru, of sugary nails, he'd heard it said "More watery than water itself", rushing past his taste buds

Picking up the can he appreciated the coldness of the metal and he turned it so he could read the nutritional information: water, sugar, carbon dioxide, citric acid, flavorings, preservatives. His mouth watered. Aye, he'd open it, it was just a shame he didn't have a nice big bag of salt and vinegar crisps and a Tunnocks caramel log and he'd be laughing goodbye to his hangover.

He inserted his finger under the metal tab, and pulled it back. There was that expulsion of sound – the onomatopoeic sound of relief, and he place the can to his lips inhaling that smell, his mouth watering in sweet, sweet anticipation…

"Dr Beckett?" A soft voice whispered in his ear. Sweet Mother of God! Beckett jumped and the arm holding the can jerked sending the can and its contents all over his desk. "Oh bloody hell!" he wailed as he watched the precious orange liquid spilling out over his papers.

"Look what you made me do, Major!"

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, Carson!" Dr Weir was with the evil Major. Weir quickly ran off to find some tissue to clean up the mess, while Sheppard picked up the can.

"What the hell is this stuff?" Sheppard asked, his fingers stained virulent orange. "It's sticky!"

"Give me that Major!" snapped Beckett and he snatched the can off Sheppard, raising it to his lips trying desperately to drain the last few drops. Two drops, a measly two drops, fell onto his tongue. Beckett felt like crying.

Weir came back with the tissue, and started to mop up the mess, which was considerable, the Irn Bru was running over the edge of the desk and pooling on the floor.

"Carson, what is this?" she asked. "It's sticky"

"Only the elixir of life," he intoned, suddenly seriously depressed. He slumped against the wall.

Weir threw the roll of tissue at Sheppard. "Here, Major," she ordered. "You can finish up here, and make sure you get it all." She glared at Sheppard, Beckett was pleased to note. Just wait until the Major was back from his next mission, he'd give him a bit more than the standard mission physical.

Weir took Beckett by the arm and led him into the examination room. "I'm sorry about your drink, Carson." Weir said. "What was it?"

"I was taking it for medicinal purposes," said Beckett "It's the best damn hangover cure in Scotland."

Weir nodded sympathetically "You too?"

"And most of Atlantis" Beckett replied. "I've had about twenty people in this morning already. Still…" He looked at Weir for the first time. "Jings, what is that rash on your face?"

"Yes, I know" Weir said, scowling, "I'm sure it's nothing, but Major Sheppard insisted that you examine me."

"Sit down there, Dr Weir, and I'll take a wee look at it." He sat her down on one of the infirmary beds and popped a thermometer into her mouth. "Let's have a look." He leant into Weir's face, peering at the rash closely. It was concentrated on the lower part of her face, and was red and blotchy in nature.

"Is it itchy?" he asked.

"Not really," she mumbled thorough the thermometer.

Beckett took Weir's chin in his hand, and turned her face into the light. "Well, there's no sign of blistering. It looks like a slight case of contact dermatitis." He took out the thermometer. "Well that's normal," he said. Smiling slightly, he asked, "Have you been rubbing your face against something noxious in the last few hours?"

"Not that I can remember." Weir frowned. "There's a lot I can't remember about last night."

"Aye, said Beckett, turning to put down the thermometer and picking up the flashlight. "I've had a lot of folk in here today complaining of the same thing."

"Really? That concerns me, Doctor," said Weir. "Ow," She winced as he shone the flashlight in her eyes.

"Sorry, sorry," he murmured. "Well, your eyes look fine too, no sign of irritation" He turned to his table and put the flashlight down. "Aye, it's a wee bit worrying", he continued."I was thinking of doing some analysis of the liquor and asking Teyla a wee bit about its usual effects."

"Good idea," said Weir. "Let me know if you find anything interesting."

Sheppard strolled into the room at that point, and punted the pile of soggy, orange tissue into the nearest bin. "So, doc," he said, coming to stand next to Beckett and peering at the Weir's face, "What's the diagnosis?"

"Well, it looks like some kind of contact dermatitis. I'm going to give you some antihistamine cream to clear it up." Weir made a face." But I would advise you not to go rubbing your face against whatever you rubbed it against again."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem," said Weir.

Sheppard's eyebrows went through the roof. "Rubbing your face.. what have you been rubbing your face against, Dr Weir?"

"I have no idea," said Weir shortly, as Beckett handed her the cream. "I'm sure it will clear up. Thank you, Carson. Major, I will be in my office." She arched an eyebrow at Sheppard. "I'm sure you have duties to attend to."

"Yes, Ma'am." Sheppard smirked.

"Carson, I would be very interested to hear the results of your analysis." With that Weir jumped off the bed and walked out of the infirmary, passing as she did so Rodney, who staggered in clutching his head.

"Carson, my ears," he bleated. Beckett sighed. It was going to be a long, long day.