A/N: Indeed, Vilya, haven't written that bit yet, though, bit scary!

Chapter 3

Carson parked the car, and walked along the shore for a while, letting the spaniel loose to splash in the freezing water. The mist was shrouding the green shoreline across the Gare Loch, and dampness clung to Carson's face. As he watched the dog bark at seaweed, he wondered what he was actually doing here at all. Slipping the lead back on, he dragged the bouncing dog back up to the road.

Carson soon found himself walking slowly past the tents and makeshift shelters making up the peace camp. Colourful banners and flags reminded him of why they were here, the symbols and slogans blending into the haphazard settlement. A young woman carrying a water container stared at him briefly. Carson felt out of place in his jeans and Gore-tex jacket. There weren't many hippies in Glasgow, he contemplated wryly. Then he saw a young man sitting outside a shelter, smoking a roll-up contentedly in the chill morning. Carson thought he recognised the face. The man caught sight of Carson, and the flicker of recognition was mirrored. He stood, and sauntered across.

"Carson Beckett?" he asked. The young man had dreadlocks, but was clean-shaven.

Carson had lost his feeling of intimidation as he realised who this was. "Ian? Ian Kelso?"

They both smiled and laughed, remembering their shared school connection.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ian laughed. "I thought you were a doctor in Glasgow?"

"I am." Carson replied. "I'm home for the weekend. It must be…what…five years since I've seen you. I just thought…I wanted to see…"

"Oh, jings, Carson, you're a bit young for a mid-life crisis." Again the laughter. "Come and have a cuppa. You can tell me what's going on in the big smoke."

Ian led Carson through the camp, the spaniel sniffing and panting excitedly. Carson tied the lead to a branch as they settled outside Ian's tent.

"Really, Carson. What on earth brings you here?"

"I don't know, Ian. I'm just doing some thinking. I'm going to leave Glasgow, move away. The family's not happy. But I hate it there now. I'm not into all that career competition rubbish."

"Good for you Carson. There's a socialist heart in you somewhere."

"Ach, I'm just not cut out for city life, maybes. I might go into research or something." Despite the passing of years, Carson felt strangely comfortable discussing these incongruous subjects with Ian, outside a tent on the Loch shore. He watched as Ian sorted the hot drinks for them.

"My mum said you'd done a degree inside your medical course. Are you as brainy as you were at school then?" Ian handed Carson a mug of steaming tea.

Carson smiled shyly. "Don't! Your results were as good as mine. I did a year out, did a masters in genetics. Fat lot of bloody good that'll ever be!"

"Well, here we both are. What's life really about, Carson? Especially when we are destroying the planet. Genetics might save us if that bloody lot cock up." Ian jerked his head in the direction of the naval base.

Carson could just see a large dark wall and barbed wire in the far distance. He'd never really thought about the naval base much. It was just there. It wasn't an issue to him; having nuclear submarines wandering up and down the river in view of his home was how it had always been. But now…everything was an issue to Carson. Work, life, the future, the world. He didn't know how to distil it into something manageable.

Ian broke Carson's train of thought. He spoke, slowly and thoughtfully. "You'll find something. Something worthwhile. Something that makes a difference. I did. You didn't think I'd still be here, did you? Stop here for a couple of years after school, then find a real life. Well, real life is here, now. OK, so I followed Sharon Menzies here in the first place. Thought it would impress her. She was only here four months. Lightweight."

Carson grinned, and shook his head, eyes twinkling. "You're right, I never thought it. But if you're happy, that's what counts."

"Too right, pal. That's what counts."

They shared some memories of other school friends, and laughed remembering some funny thing or other. After a while, the two men stood, and shook hands. Dragging the dog behind him, Carson headed back. He had seen what it meant to find the right path, he just wasn't sure where his lay yet.