Touched By An Ancient

By Ann3

Writer's Note: Well, I promised you some more chuckles while the boys are on holiday, and hopefully you'll find them here ! Advanced warning, though - things will get a lot more serious in the next chapter, so you might want to stock up on the chocolate and hankies !

Thanks as always for the latest reviews, and... well, now, who's up for some hiking...?

Chapter Thirty Four

He'd last come here in the remotest depths of his mind, guided by the miracle of its own power. To be here now, in Glencoe, in reality, with real sunshine warming his face, Carson Beckett stood in genuine awe.

Subconsciously, it had stunned and inspired him with its beauty. In conscious awareness, those sentiments hadn't changed. If anything, they were even stronger.

Beside him, another miracle was taking place. Rodney McKay stood totally, utterly, lost for words. It had been five clear minutes since they'd arrived, and he still hadn't managed to find his voice.

"So – So this is where it happened…?" he said at last, still drinking in the stunning beauty around him. "That whole… um… Ascended journey thing you had with your dad…?"

Slowly re-surfacing from those same memories, Carson then cast his friend a gently wistful smile.

"Aye, lad… aye, it all happened here, as they say… even if it was all in my head…" he sighed, helpless laughter overtaking him at the combined admiration and exasperation of that friend's response.

"And you hiked up there…? All the way up…? I mean, it's got to be over two thousand feet, and... jeez, Carson, no wonder you were spark out unconscious for almost five days…!"

Increasingly worried by his friend's continuing laughter, Rodney then threw a pleading look sideways.

"We're… uh… not going to do the same, are we…?" he asked, a study of nervous, twitchy reluctance. "I - I mean, hiking's fine for you haggis-chasing Hibernians, but with my back, and bad ankles, and…"

Laughing too much to retaliate, Carson just shook his head while hoisting his rucksack onto his back.

"Och, Rodney, I'd never be that mean to ye…!"

Finding it impossible to resist temptation after all, he then shrugged in perfect, deadpan innocence.

"No, since you keep mentioning them, I thought I'd introduce you to some of our famous, friendly sheep… maybe try and squeeze in the odd hairy muccle coo, while we're at it… and, of course, we're just going to have to…"

"Hairy whatty what…?"

All effort that he'd put into controlling it now vanished, as Carson dissolved into fresh fits of laughter.

"I'm – I'm sorry, Rodney…" he said at last, continuing chuckles suggesting he was anything but. "It's what we haggis-chasing Hibernians, as you so kindly deign to call us, call a Highland cow. You know, those lovely shaggy beasties we saw back at the visitor centre…? They're really quite sweet…"

"Sweet…? Sweet…?" Rodney echoed, his next words casting further doubts over his friend's sanity. "Hulking great rugs with a leg at each corner, pointy horns you could cook kebabs on, and you call them sweet…?"

Never one to back down in an argument, especially where Rodney was concerned, Carson just grinned.

"Well, I've always thought so…" he said at last, further memories causing his smile to ruefully widen. "When we came here for our holiday that time, dad and I found a wee calf, lying hurt by the road. I tried to talk mum into letting me take it home to take care of it, but… well, she said no…"

He looked, and sounded, so disappointed that Rodney couldn't help but stare and gape back at him – any sympathy he may have felt lasting all of two seconds, before more familiar sarcasm took its place.

"She did…? Really…? Well, for the life of me, Carson, I can't understand why…!"

"Aye, lad, I know…" Carson sighed, deadpan through years of practice as he shrugged once more – choosing his moment, with the same mischievous skill, before tossing the follow up over his shoulder. "In fact, I still don't… remind me to ask mum about that, aye…? When we get back…?"

By the time Rodney caught on, and caught up to him, he'd just about brought himself under control – his friend's 'ha-ha' expression reducing him and, eventually, Rodney too, to further howls of laughter.

There were more serious reasons, of course, for this continuing bantering and bickering between them. Its familiarity was gently paving the way for the real reason they'd travelled so far to come here.

The greater part of that journey, spanning an incalculable distance, was already safely behind them. Atlantis was a whole world, an entire galaxy, away from them.

A day's hiking through Glencoe, however spectacularly beautiful, still seemed tiny in comparison. Yet that journey's importance wasn't lost, on either of them, as Rodney and Carson set out upon it.

Deep rooted anger and loss had to be confronted by one, admissions and apologies made by the other. And their consequences faced by both.