Thanksgiving Day dawned cool and windy. Carson stared out the glass door in his bedroom at dark clouds scudding across the sky and rolled his eyes. It looked like the perfect day to spend curled up with a cup of tea and the last of the medical journals he'd wanted to get caught up on. He hadn't slept well the night before, his subconscious waking him before the dreams became too severe. He could handle a day without the stress of Katie trying to turn his head, Jorge hovering protectively when anyone walked into the clinic, and counting pills. Although, that last issue was finally over, finished late the night before in a spurt of angry energy. He'd eventually received the reports from UNM and they showed that the chemical compound of the drugs Debbie had taken was different from the Desoxyn in his lab. Which meant they had a meth dealer in town but it also meant someone had been helping themselves to the pain pills in the dispensary.

Already tired of thinking, Carson pushed from the warm bed and climbed into a hot shower. Finally dressed for the day, he started tea, eyeing the high-tech coffee maker McKay had given him. He rarely used it, choosing instead to visit with Margaret over a cup of her French roast. Over the weeks, she spoiled him with ready-made coffee and the welcoming environment of the tea and coffee house. Carson often felt his stress melt away as soon as he walked through the door of her establishment.

With tea steeping, light breakfast eaten, and the house warming from a fire in the front room, Carson slipped back to his bedroom. It was time for his weekly dose of the serum that kept his cells from deteriorating. That would also help his energy levels, and he knew Jennifer worked to find a daily dosage that wouldn't leave him worn out and feeling as if he was going through withdrawals. Right now, though, he let out a deep breath as the serum chased away the lingering weakness and hints of pain throughout his body.

A knock on his door around mid-morning pulled him out of his bubble. He'd been reading the latest genetic research, stuff he'd done before heading to Pegasus all those years ago. He'd not moved from his easy chair for anything more than to add more wood to the fire in several hours. A full cup of tea had gone cold as he delved back into the medical specialty he both loved and hated. Loved because it brought him into contact with such wonderful people as Sheppard, McKay, Teyla, Ronon, Jennifer, Amanda, Lorne, and Marie. Hated because it revealed he wasn't the real Carson Beckett and would always have to live with the knowledge that his entire belief system was flawed.

Pushing out of his chair and shoving aside those thoughts, Carson opened his door and blinked. "Margaret?"

His landlady smiled up at him. "How are you, Carson?"

He let her in when a cold gust of wind tugged on her jacket. "Fine." She smelled of Thanksgiving dinner as she looked around the room. "What brings you over here?"

"What are your plans for the day?" Her question surprised him.

"Oh, I don't know." Carson shrugged. "Not a whole lot."

"Good." She met his eyes. "Come to my house."

"I'm sorry?"

"It's Thanksgiving, and no one needs to be alone on Thanksgiving." She shrugged. "Besides, my daughter's here, and I'd love for you to meet her." She held up a hand. "I know what you said about not coming here to find a special someone, and I'll avoid making references to my hopes that you and she will one day be more than friends. But I do want you to know get to know her as a friend."

"Margaret, I'm not American." Carson smiled at her. "I really do appreciate the offer, but I don't celebrate Thanksgivin'. An' I don't want ta intrude on your time with your daughter."

She blew a raspberry at him. "Carson, she's gonna be here until Christmas, if not a bit longer. Which means we'll be getting on one another's nerves by tomorrow evening. Come over, enjoy some company, play some cards with us, and get out of this house for a bit." She gave him a sly look. "Live a little!"

He actually laughed at that, knowing he'd never be able to say no to her. Sending an indulgent look her way, he shook his head. "Okay. I'll be over in an hour."

"Good!" Margaret looked incredibly satisfied with herself. "I live just down the street from the bed and breakfast. Only two story stucco house on the street." She headed for the door and then stopped and turned to face him. "And, for the record, you keep giving women those wonderful glances, you'll turn heads whether you want to or not."

"Goodbye, Margaret," Carson sing-songed as she headed for her car with a wave. He waited to close the door behind her until she'd pulled out of his driveway and faced his house with a sigh. If he was honest, spending the day with others sounded better than spending it alone. When they'd been there, Amanda and Lorne had talked about choosing which set of parents to spend this holiday with, and Carson had known then that they'd be announcing a wedding soon. He still hadn't received the good news, but he wasn't holding his breath. Rodney and Jennifer were also stalling on making permanent plans, making Carson half-wish he was in Atlantis to light a fire under his best friend's behind.

Dumping his cold tea in the sink, Carson spent a few moments tidying his home before he grabbed a jacket. The clouds that had scudded across the sky when he awoke now covered almost all of the blue. The temperature had dropped, and he smiled at the wind as he locked his home. This weather reminded him of Scotland, and it put him at ease. In spite of the cold, children rode bikes down the sidewalk, a group of teenagers enjoyed street basketball, and two little girls had set up a tea party in the front yard a few doors down from him. He heard, "Hi, Doc!" from several different directions and waved with a smile. It was why he liked this town. Everyone knew and accepted him.

The walk across town took a bit longer as he stopped along the way to chat with a couple of his patients who had been outside playing with their grandchildren. Carson arrived at Margaret's house around an hour and a half later, ready to get out of the wind no matter how much it reminded him of Scotland. He saw a storm brewing and knew he'd need to get under cover soon. As the first cold drops landed, he knocked on Margaret's door. She opened it with a huge grin. "Carson! I was about to send out search parties!"

"Och, no need for that." Carson stepped inside and bent to kiss her cheek. "Thank you for havin' me, Margaret."

She smacked his arm. "Look at you. Being a charmer." Then, she took his jacket and hung it on the coat tree next to the door. "Come inside and make yourself at home."

She bustled into the living area, leaving Carson to follow at his leisure. He'd entered the house in a wide entryway that led to stairs. The walls were covered in family pictures, but he didn't pause to peruse them. The entryway opened into the living room and dining room. The large space had been clearly separated by the carpet's end and the tile's beginning. The walls here were also covered, but with photographs of flowers, mountains, houses, flags, churches, and any number of other subjects. Though he knew nothing about art, Carson could see these photos were fantastic. Comfortable furniture lined the walls around a brick fireplace. The large oak dining table boasted a cornucopia centerpiece with apples, oranges, nuts, and squash spilling out. Two tall golden candlesticks held candles waiting to be lit, and the table had been set for three with silverware, linen napkins and elegant china.

"Mom?" The woman's voice came from the kitchen, seeming familiar in more ways than its similarity to Margaret's. She appeared as she spoke. "How long do I bake. . .the. . . ." She blinked at him, her question momentarily forgotten as he stared into large blue eyes he hadn't seen in a year. ". . .candied yams? Carson?"

He smiled at the surprise in her tone, but part of that grin was his internal voice asking him how he'd been so clueless. No wonder he recognized Margaret. "Hello, Dr. Porter."

oOo

Alison Porter had come home. She stood in her mother's kitchen, loving the feel of being here while wondering if she'd made a mistake. The time off from the SGC would feel incredible, but she suspected she'd go insane without all of the activity. Still, when Teldy offered the leave, she couldn't resist.

Hearing her mother let their guest in the front door, she finished dumping pecans over the candied yams and smothered the top with marshmallows. It was her favorite Thanksgiving recipe, and she had yet to find someone who made them like her mother. Of course, Mom was an incredible cook, but that was beside the point. Seeing the oven ready, she called out. "Mom?" She left the candied yams on the counter as she walked into the living area, the man with her mother startling her. "How long do I bake. . .the. . . ." Alison blinked, her question forgotten. Carson Beckett smiled at her, incredible eyes crinkling at the corners as his dimple appeared. Realizing she was staring, she finished her question. ". . .candied yams? Carson?"

Instantly, her mind took her back in time. She sat next to Dr. Carson Beckett, smiling at him and seeing the same interest and that cheeky grin aimed at her. Her words were still as clear today as they'd been back then. "I'm really glad we got this opportunityto work together, Carson."

"So am I, Alison." He'd sounded quite convincing, and the soft accent he put on her name had cemented the moment in her mind.

Even a year later, the way he'd said her name then still sent shivers down her spine. Now, his smile widened, taking her breath away with that one moment. "Hello, Dr. Porter."

Next to him, her mother's gaze ping-ponged back and forth. "Wait. You two know each other?"

"Oh, aye." Carson turned that smile to her mom, giving her a moment to breathe. "Dr. Porter and I worked together about a year ago on a special project."

Alison finally found her voice. "'Alison,' please." She stepped forward, figuring she might as well welcome him with a hug. "It's great to see you!"

Carson returned the hug, his hands warm on her waist as he pulled away a moment later. "Aye, it is." His hand dropped as he turned to Margaret. "Thank you for invitin' me."

Margaret snorted. "Like I'd do any less." She headed for the kitchen. "You two get reacquainted. I'll finish dinner." She disappeared a moment later.

Alison stood next to the dining table, at a loss for what to say now. She and Carson had dated twice when he'd been in Pegasus, but their careers had gone in opposite directions. Her work with Major Teldy's off-world team hadn't stopped, and he'd chosen to live on planets affected by the Hoffan plague. They'd agreed after their second date that it was just bad timing. Still, when she'd heard that Howell wanted to retire and that Carson was looking for a job outside of the SGC, she'd recommended him to come to her home town. She'd also asked to remain anonymous because of their past relationship.

Now, Carson looked her in the eye. "I suppose I should thank you for helpin' me get this job."

"Don't mention it." She motioned him into the living room and perched on the edge of the couch. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know." His smile returned as he apparently decided to relax. "Treating colds, doing well-child checkups, loving the work, and getting a little bored."

She laughed at his assessment of life in Esperanza, New Mexico. "You wanted to be a small-town doctor."

"Aye, though I'll admit it hasn't been without its excitement."

"I heard about Debbie." Alison sobered. "Carson, I'm really glad you were there for her. I grew up with her mom, and I can't imagine going through that."

He absently touched his lip, and she wondered at the gesture. Margaret chose that moment to appear, though, with hot wassail in matching mugs. Carson naturally included the older woman in their conversation, and Alison stared at the way he treated her mother. His charm never faded, but it changed. When he looked at her, she felt as if he were trying to see behind the smile she gave him. When he looked at Margaret, he looked almost like an indulgent son talking to his mother. And that encouraged her. Her mother needed someone looking after her as much as she liked to look after someone else.

Dinner was served about an hour later, and the trio ate with a lot of laughs. Carson had obviously told her mother that he'd lost his mother and family a few years back. Alison knew the truth, however, and her heart went out to him. He couldn't go home—not to the home he remembered—and the thought of having those memories, knowing her mother was alive, and not being able to return stung. She covered the tears with a sip of wine and pasted a smile on her face. It was one thing that had gotten under her skin about Carson Beckett. He was such a mystery, a puzzle that she wanted to figure out. That, and he had the most incredible laugh of any man she'd met.

When they did finish eating, Margaret stood and started collecting their dishes. To Alison's delight, Carson took his plate out of her hands, rose to his feet, and put his hands on Margaret's shoulders. Steering the older woman into the living room, he winked at Alison. "Oh, no ye don't." He grinned. "You cooked. I'll clean."

"We'll clean," Alison said quickly, jumping to her feet. "I only made the yams."

Margaret sputtered but stopped arguing when Carson gave her a stern glance. Alison knew her mother was working to conceal a delighted laugh when the woman turned and scratched her nose. In the kitchen, she stopped next to the sink and looked up at Carson. "She's going to get you back for that, you know."

"Aye," he admitted. "But it was fun to see the surprise on her face."

He left her again for another load of dishes. For a time, they scraped leftovers into plastic bowls and loaded the dishwasher. As they worked, Alison studied him. The sparkle in his eyes hadn't faded, but she managed to push away her attraction for him to see beneath it. He was tired, dark circles making his blue eyes seem even brighter. Lines around his mouth didn't indicate that he'd spent much time smiling lately. And she caught him pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. She needed to find out what was happening, and she realized that coming home for this time might have been a good thing. It looked like Carson needed someone to talk to who had security clearance.

After the kitchen had been cleaned, the two of them found Margaret dozing in her chair. Alison grinned and glanced at Carson. "Would you like to take a walk?" she asked in a whisper.

He smiled at her mother. "Aye, that's probably a good idea."

Alison crept to the coat rack and retrieved their jackets. They snuck out the door in the kitchen without waking her mother. "Thank you for coming today. I know Mom's happy about you being here."

"It was my pleasure, Alison."

There it was again. That wonderful softening of his voice combined with that delightful Scottish accent that always made her heart melt, no matter how many months passed before she heard it again. She'd thought about Carson Beckett a lot over the last year, had wondered if she'd made a mistake in rejoining Teldy's team rather than accepting his invitation to work with him. The circumstances surrounding their initial meeting might have been awful, but she always thought about the time that Dusty had gone "to check the perimeter" with fondness. If the gunfire hadn't sounded at the right moment, she might have kissed him.

Now, she glanced over to where he smiled at the gray November sky. "How are you, Carson? And, before you answer, remember I have security clearance."

He glanced at her, surprised. After a moment, he sighed and stared straight ahead. "I'm okay," he said honestly. "There are things in my past that I'll have to deal with for the rest of my life, an' havin' those memories isn't easy."

Alison nodded. She still had nightmares of the creatures that took Alicia Vega's life, and she hadn't endured half of what he'd gone through as Michael's prisoner. "Would you like to talk about them?"

His gaze dropped to his feet, and they paused at the edge of town. It wasn't that great of a distance, and Alison let her eyes look over the horizon. The morning's storm had passed after dumping a quick rain on them right after Carson's arrival at her mother's house. But another one, this one dark and promising more than just rain, was moving in along with sunset.

Finally, Carson sighed. "The situation with Debbie stirred up a lot of memories." He shook his head. "Seein' her lyin' on the ground, in a coma after havin' a seizure, took me right back to watchin' those first patients die." His voice trailed off. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. "An' it hasnae been easy."

Alison reached over and looped her arm through the crook of his elbow. "I'm so sorry, Carson."

He looked at her suddenly. "Why?" His smile made a reappearance, though it was tempered with sadness. "I'm honestly glad you're here, love. I've needed someone who knows about the Program an' everythin' to talk to for quite some time."

Alison nodded. "Then I'm glad I came." She turned to study the horizon, seeing lightning flash in the approaching storm. "Maybe we should get back."

"Aye, maybe you're right."

They walked at a fast clip, the wind at their backs blowing Alison's hair into her face. The temperature dropped significantly, and Carson shielded her from the first of the raindrops as they gained the front door of her home. Once inside, they found Margaret in the kitchen, cutting a pumpkin pie as coffee brewed. She poked her head out as they shed their jackets. "I knew you two would be back soon."

Carson changed immediately, all traces of his emotional battle with Michael's memory fading as he spoke with Margaret. Alison watched, already starting to build some barriers around her heart. She hadn't come home to Esperanza to fall in love with a man who had captured her attention a year ago. She'd come to spend the time with her mother. However, when she heard Margaret invite him to the tea and coffee house to decorate for Christmas on Monday evening, she let out a deep breath. She might not have a choice in the matter.

Moving to the table as Carson set out the cards like her mother had asked, Alison admitted something to herself. When it came to Carson Beckett, she had no defense against his charm and smile. She just hoped she could leave Esperanza with her heart intact.

~TBC