Notes: This Chapter was written by Lorellipsis, whose own plot bunnies are yet to be found.

The next day, after the whole fiasco with Rodney and John, Carson was sorely in need of a diversion. The local, monthly market was taking place down at the City Square, and it sounded like a good place to start.

Rodney wasn't so excited by the idea though. "You actually think there'll be something there of interest to us? Carson, we're intelligent, world- no make that galaxy-traveled men. There is just no way some poky little market is going to be a source of inspiration or entertainment." He pulled the gate closed behind them, continuing his tirade as they made their way toward the busier part of the small country town. "Unless, of course, you count watching a group of low-class, and somewhat under-evolved, goat herders trying to move a pack of almost brain-dead animals from one big empty patch of grass to another."

Carson looked at him with disdain. How could he possibly have thought that he'd missed this man? He was the most egotistical and arrogant person he'd ever met. "Aye, well, if y'think it'll be such a bloody bore, then why don' ye come up with a suggestion, yourself!" he exclaimed defensively. "Come on, Mister Genius. Lets hear it, now."

His annoyance was completely lost on Rodney, who was busy manoeuvering his way around a group of noisy pre-schoolers. "There's got to be something more than this! What's with those buses parked up there on the hill? Near that dilapidated old shed," he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of the hill. "And what is that, anyway? Don't even try to tell me it's a local, historical landmark because, please... I swear if those goat herders so much as sneeze in the wrong direction..."

Carson tuned him out. He was beginning to get a headache. If he could only find something to interest Rodney, just enough to shut him up for a few minutes, he might be able to come up with a more entertaining activity. Something that would put an end to his long-winded complaining.

They wandered along, Rodney still pouring out that endless monologue, and Carson wracking his brain for the ultimate McKay-silencing activity. He paid little attention to their surroundings, following Rodney's lead blindly. And so it was with some surprise, that he found himself reaching the crest of the hill. "Rodney, I thought y'were worried about the Goat Herder's Shack over there. What on God's earth are we doing here, practically right beside it?"

"What? Oh... Goat Herder's Shack, is that what it's supposed to be?" he glanced over briefly. "Where do you think those buses are going, Carson?"

"They go t' the city. You know, the place where the middle-class, slightly more intelligent, goat herders dwell." he answered. "I've heard they've even got something called electricity over there. Real advanced it is. I don' think we farmers down here in the glen could handle it, though."

Rodney looked at him like he'd just jumped off the back of the local, loony wagon. "What's with you? Did somebody hurt those tender, little feelings of yours?"

"Y'know Rodney, maybe we should catch one o' those buses," an idea was beginning to form in his mind. "There might jus' be somthin' in the big city that'd take your fancy."

The trip into the city was relatively peaceful. Rodney even stopped talking for a while, and Carson felt the headache easing off.

They got off the bus at its second stop, "Entertainment and Leisure Agency - Finding a Way, to Improve your Day." Or at least, that's what the sign claimed. Carson hoped he wouldn't be disappointed. His idea had become more fully formed during the ride over and this place was his best bet for bringing it to fruition.

Rodney trailed behind, turning to and fro like a kid on his first visit to the zoo. He didn't follow Carson up to the information booth and, consequently, had no idea of the conversation that took place there.

It wasn't long before Carson made his way back over, a big and somewhat stupid grin on his face and a couple of packages tucked under one arm. "So, Rodney. D'ye think you're ready for it then?"

"Ready for what?" Rodney scoffed. "I'm sure I can handle anything you can, Carson. So, whatever juvenile activity you've arranged, you'll just have to sit back and accept defeat. You know I'll beat you hands-down."

Ah yes, the most egotistical and arrogant man he'd met. Well, win or lose, it was going to be fun and Carson knew that Rodney's brain-power wasn't going to be as much assistance as he expected.

"Come on then. It's over this way." He gestured off to the side and started walking. "I jus' hope I got the right size outfit for ye."

And now, he had Rodney's complete attention. "Outfit?" he spluttered. "Hey, Carson! Wait up."

Carson kept walking, an enthusiastic spring to his step and Rodney took off after him, waving his arms about frantically. Not quite so arrogant now, eh?

They entered an area that had been fenced off by tall stacks of hay. Rodney hadn't once ceased his indignant rant, but this time Carson didn't mind. He came to a stop beside yet another booth and, with an expression of glee, passed Rodney one of the packages he'd been carrying. "Well, suit-up then."

Rodney looked at him incredulously, not accepting the offered package. "Look, Carson, I understand you have an inferiority complex when you're around me and, in all honesty, so you should. But you don't have to resort to stupid pranks, just to try and feel better about it. I thought we'd have been passed all that by now."

Carson dropped the package at Rodney's feet, turned away and started to remove his jacket. "So... ye like t'watch then, do ye, Rodney?"

"What... no! Of course not!" Never one to ignore an insult, he picked up the bundle at his feet and turned his back. With enormous reluctance, he began to unwrap it and was even more confused when all that it contained was an old pair of paint-splattered overalls. He glanced over his shoulder at Carson and discovered him standing there, dressed in a similar pair of overalls and watching expectantly.

"Get a move on, Rodney. I swear you're slower than a bloody woman!"

Rodney shrugged out of his own jacket and proceeded to step into his... outfit. He wondered if Carson had finally cracked, because there was just no way he was going to spend his afternoon doing maintenance for some shabby amusement park that couldn't afford to keep itself in business.

The man attending the booth approached them, "Well, lads... if you're ready then, I'll get ye set up. Over here is where we keep all the equipment. Helmets up here - and make sure ye keep the visor down at all times. You can each choose one of these large, heavy-duty guns and one handgun. And if you'll jus' come over a wee bit closer, I'll show ye how to work them."

Rodney looked at Carson, a slow smile of understanding beginning to make its way across his face. Carson raised an eyebrow comically, "So, Rodney... Sheppard or Teyla? Take ye pick."

"Oh, gee Carson. I just don't know who to choose. Conan or Xena?" the snark had returned, in its complete and overconfident glory. "Okay... decided. Zena it is, then."

Carson looked at him in disbelief. He'd forgotten just how unpredictable Rodney could be. "I'd have thought ye'd at least have said Superman, Rodney."

"Who wants to be Superman when they can be Xena? And besides, I'm getting sick of being Superman all the time. I can't save the galaxy every day, you know!"

"Yeah well, y'know Xena wasn't actually one o' the options, Rodney."

"Fine, Teyla then! I'm Teyla. Are you happy now, Colonel? I just hope you have the courage and skill to shoot me somewhere more fatal than the leg!"

Five more days passed before Carson and Rodney left the little house and the beautiful sights of Scotland. They boarded a plane destined for the gray walls of the SGC - the only gateway to the snowflake city they'd missed so much, and the people who had become their family.