Mist swirled around him as he stumbled through it. The weapon in his hand was useless in this weather since he couldn't get a bead on the creatures following him. And he knew they were following him. As he stopped to try to catch his breath, he wrapped a hand around the decrepit post of a market stall and ignored the foul stench of the fog. If he thought about it, it would make his eyes water and his nose run. Mind over matter, he reminded himself as he ran on.

Then, he tripped. The "oomph" that escaped drew the attention of the creatures, and he started crawling. Anything to get away from them, to get to safety. He'd come out here with the intention of finding Sergeant Mehra, not getting lost. Yet, he'd gone and proven her point: that he should have stayed in the house with Alison.

Alison. What was she doing right now? Had those creatures found her? Even though he'd only known her for a couple of hours, he realized he'd either have to get to know her better or find some way to ignore her. Backing into a wall, he looked around, freezing in place when he heard the clicking noise those creatures made. Turning slowly to look over his left shoulder, he watched a creature crawl down the wall to stop next to him. He held his breath, partially because of the stench the creature made and partially because he was too afraid to breathe. The creature—with webs over its eyes and vampire-like teeth—exuded the mist from gills in its neck. Apparently dissatisfied with what it had found, it crawled away.

He took a deep breath. It was safe. . .relatively. If he could just find his way back to the house, he'd be okay.

His radio came to life suddenly, the static breaking the silence and drawing the attention of the creature.

Carson woke on Sunday morning to the memory of P90 fire and Dusty's irritated instructions to move. He chuckled, thinking that, out of all of his memories, it was one of the more tame ones. At least no one had died in his arms during that mission. And he'd been fortunate enough to not be around when Alicia Vega was killed. Small comfort, he thought wryly as he rose and showered.

After breakfast, he pulled on a sport coat and headed out the door. The day was warming up, one of the quirks of New Mexico weather, and he quite enjoyed the walk to Esperanza's church. Alison met him outside along with her mother, and he escorted the two ladies inside as he reminded himself that he'd not come to Esperanza to fall in love. But Alison looked so lovely in a blue business suit. Her eyes sparkled at him, and he shook his head. He was fooling himself by thinking he could simply be her friend, and he knew it.

Two hours later, however, Alison's blue eyes and laugh were the furthest thing from his mind. He had been honest when he'd told her that he hadn't thought too much about church. But, truth be told, he'd avoided thoughts of spirituality altogether since coming out of the stasis pod. The questions were just too great, and he hadn't wanted to think about them.

Did he even have a soul? That one question encompassed so much that Carson barely noticed when the congregation stood for the final prayer. He managed to recover well, but his mind whirled with thoughts he'd wanted to avoid. He wasn't human—not like these people were human. He'd been created in a Wraith lab, by a Wraith, and for a Wraith to exploit his knowledge. What right did he have to pray to a God who created humanity? Had he been truly human, he likely wouldn't have considered these questions, but his unique circumstances made it impossible to ignore.

Church was dismissed before he figured out an answer. Margaret invited him to Sunday dinner, and Carson accepted just to avoid being alone. He did not want to think about his quandary, and explaining it to Margaret would be too difficult. How was he supposed to explain that he was a clone when Earth had not developed to the stage of cloning human beings? Alison might have understood, but he kept his thoughts to himself, covering them with laughter and a smile that he knew Alison found irresistible.

Monday morning, he'd managed to shove all the questions back into the box he'd created for them nearly two years ago. His work in Pegasus had given his life meaning, and he'd found some level of fulfillment by working here in Esperanza. He didn't need much more in his life.

Carson snorted as he set his coffee on his desk and shed his coat. He'd stopped in to the coffee house and ordered a cup of coffee from Alison. She had barely turned to pour the order when Margaret snatched the cup from her daughter's hand. The look of mock irritation on Alison's face had made him laugh, and he grinned now as he thought about the mother-daughter duo. He'd seen hints of Alison's wry personality shortly after they'd met, and seeing it with her mother was just wonderful. It reminded him of how his sisters treated his mum, though he definitely did not look at Alison as a sister.

Jorge knocked on the door before he could do much more than take another sip of his coffee. "Got a moment, Doc?"

"Aye, come in." Carson frowned when the nurse closed the door behind himself. "What's on your mind?"

"A lot." Jorge motioned to the couch, looking nervous but in no way intimidated by "the boss." "Have you made a decision about the pharmacy?"

Carson sighed as he ran a hand over his face. What was it with this fascination with the pharmacy? "No, I haven't. Not yet, at least. I've still got a bit of inventory left to do, but I can say that I'll likely be going to the sheriff when I'm done."

Jorge nodded sagely. "I'm here to ask you not to."

Carson blinked. "I'm sorry?" he asked in an unconscious and very good imitation of Rodney McKay's outraged tone.

Jorge didn't sigh or show any sign of irritation. Instead, he pulled his wallet out of his pocket, opened it, and handed it to Carson. The doctor blinked at the official badge and identification card. Jorge met his eyes. "Agent Jorge Dominguez, Drug Enforcement Agency."

Carson felt for his office chair and made sure it didn't roll away when he sat down. "You're undercover?"

"Yeah." Jorge shrugged. "I have been for the last year. You see, Doc, I've been trying to find the local supplier for the drugs that run through this area. Documented drug sales have happened in your pharmacy, as well as several other places in town. We know someone is providing the area, but we also know that a large amount of drugs runs right through this little town. It's a staging point for the west coast. We've been unable to identify the source so far, and you going to the sheriff would not be a good thing."

"Because I'd blow your investigation?"

"Among other things." Jorge didn't back down at Carson's glare. "Quite frankly, we don't know if the sheriff is involved, hence why we've not been able to make headway for a year. Though, I have to admit that Debbie Engleside's overdose was both a blessing and a curse. We never want to see someone go through that, but it did give us an avenue to investigate."

The shock had started to wear off, leaving Carson growing angry at the implications. "An' ye think I've been involved in this, do ye?"

Jorge snickered at that. "Actually, Doc, you're one person we know isn't involved. When you came to town, I thought you might be involved. After all, why would a doctor of your caliber come to little Esperanza? Then, I did a background check."

Carson didn't say anything. He just dropped his head into his hand.

"Yeah," Jorge said. "Listen, I don't know what you're into, and, quite frankly, I don't want to know what you're into. But I know it's big. And I know you're able to handle yourself in stressful situations."

For a moment, Carson wanted to rant at the man. Of course he could handle himself in stressful situations. He'd been in the bloody Pegasus galaxy for years, had fought against some of the most horrible creatures a human bein' could face, an' had come out on top. He couldn't say any of this to Jorge, though, and simply let out a deep sigh. "What do you need?"

"Was there anything missing in the pharmacy?"

"Aye." Carson reached for his coffee, pausing long enough to take a sip. "I'm missin' several bottles of oxycodone, as well as a full bottle of Desoxyn."

Jorge winced. "We suspected as much." He shook his head. "When Doc Howell was here, I suspected him. But the drug activity hasn't stopped since he retired, and we've pretty well figured out he was just as innocent as you are. But we're just not sure how deep into this little community it goes. I'm here to try to find the supplier."

Carson glanced up suddenly. "You suspect more people than just the sheriff."

"Relax, Doc." Jorge gave him a sly grin. "Your friend, Mrs. Porter, and her daughter have been cleared. In fact, we got the same reaction on our background check of Alison Porter that we got with you."

"I'm certain you did." Carson grinned. "She an' I worked in the same outfit when I was doin' classified work."

Jorge's eyebrows touched his hairline. "The cute brunette helpin' Mrs. Porter? She's in the military?"

"No, lad." Carson chuckled. "She's a civilian contractor, just like I used to be." He narrowed his eyes. "Why? Are ye afraid she might shoot ye if ye ask her out?"

"No. My wife would kill me." Jorge's grin returned. "But I'm sure Alison would say yes if you asked her."

Carson waved a hand at him, burying the urge to ask Jorge if there was any other information he needed to know. "Fine. I'll keep my findings to myself for now." He brought the subject back to the matter at hand. "Do you want me to open the pharmacy again?"

Jorge took a moment to consider that. "Are you finished with your inventory?"

"Aye." Carson sighed. "I can delay for a few more days to finish inventorying the merchandise, but all the medications are done. I would finish tonight, but I've got plans after work."

"Finish your inventory, Doc." Jorge stood. "And let me know if you find anything else. I don't know how much I'll be able to share with you, but you needed to know what was happening. Had you gone to the sheriff. . . ."

Carson nodded. "I understand, lad." He waved to Jorge as the man closed his office door. The DEA was investigating the town he'd found so ideal. Why wasn't he more surprised at that? And what was he going to do now?

oOo

Katie left the Esperanza Cafe after closing at seven that night, cursing her boss for her sore feet. She honestly didn't mind working for Carson. After all, the Scottish doctor was the hottest man in town, but she would have quit her job at the cafe if she'd had the option. She didn't, so she put up with the smell of grease in her hair and throbbing feet. One of the men there—Doug Engleside's foreman—had offered to take her home, and Katie had hesitated. The implication was that he'd stay around for an hour or two, leave some cash on her bedside table, and take his leave once he'd been satisfied. For the first time in a long time, Katie had said no.

She was honestly tired of that portion of her lifestyle. Being known as the town bike left a lot to be desired since every man around looked at her as if they were trying to undress her. Well, every man save Carson Beckett. It was one reason she was so drawn to him. No matter what she did to capture his attention, he seemed oblivious. It made her want to try harder, but she honestly wasn't sure what else to do besides stripping down in his office and waiting for him. And, even then, he just might send her on her way. Carson was a true gentleman, and her normal tricks for turning heads didn't work with him.

Motion in the window of Porter's Tea and Coffee house caught her attention. The coffee house had closed an hour ago, but the golden light intrigued Katie. She loved that place, and she often stopped in there to absorb the peace of it. Margaret Porter knew how to create a warm environment with honey-gold walls punctuated by tasteful artwork and her late husband's photography. Flowers sat on each table, and the general feel of a French cafe couldn't be denied.

Tonight, however, a Christmas tree brightened the front window with its evenly-sprinkled white lights. Red and gold ornaments, as well as icicles of various sizes, dripped off the branches facing the front. Katie smiled as she walked across the street to study the enchanting sight. She loved Christmas and always would. It awakened the child inside of her, made her think of innocent days, and stirred the desire to do something right. She'd never be the little girl that longed for a white Christmas again, but she liked to pretend she was as the holiday grew closer.

Inside the cafe, Carson held another red ornament as he laughed, bending at the waist. Katie's smile widened until she saw the other person with him. Alison Porter also laughed with Carson, and he had his hand on her elbow in a possessive yet comfortable manner. Something he said sent her into gales of laughter that Katie heard from outside, and she sighed. She always felt like the poor child looking into the warm, happy home. Tonight was no different.

Unable to watch them any longer, Katie walked on down the sidewalk, trying to forget the happy sparkle in Carson's eyes as he'd looked at Alison. She wanted that, wanted him to look at her like that, and didn't know how to get it. Everything she'd tried thus far hadn't helped, so she decided that she'd just have to find a different tactic.

Once home, she stood in front of her closet and debated her options. Carson Beckett would be hers. She was certain of it. She just had to find a way to turn his attention away from Alison long enough to realize who waited for him every day that she went to the office.

oOo

Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful.
Since we have no place to go,
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

The Christmas music jingled through the coffee house as Alison adjusted the topper on the Christmas tree. Carson stood warily behind her, half ready to catch her and also giving her pointers on getting it to sit up straight. A few moments ago, she'd been reaching for a high branch and had lost her balance, nearly bringing herself, the Christmas tree, and Carson down with her. It had been several tense moments, but the humor hit both of them at the same moment. As Carson had steadied Alison, they'd burst into laughter.

It felt great to laugh. He had forgotten how much a family atmosphere meant to him, and he loved the warmth in this place. Part of it had to do with Margaret's tasteful decorations in the coffee house, but Carson knew he was drawn by the woman now carefully stepping down from the chair she'd used as a stool. He reached out and gently lifted her down, his hands warm on her waist as she smiled up at him. Her gaze lingered on his for a moment too long, and he knew she felt the same drawing. It was as if they were destined to share some sort of relationship no matter what they wanted. And, quite frankly, Carson had grown tired of his solitary existence.

He'd arrived at the coffee house shortly after six that evening to find Alison wrestling the bottom third of a pre-lit Christmas tree into the base. Carson had taken over without asking, and Margaret had bluntly instructed them to decorate the front window while she made dinner. Then, she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the two to laugh and joke while hanging ornaments on branches punctuated with white lights.

"It's beautiful, Carson," Alison said softly.

"Aye," he agreed just as softly as the CD switched to "White Christmas." The tree took up most of the front window, and wrapped boxes waited to be stacked underneath it, but he wasn't keen on breaking into this moment. In spite of not knowing her well, he realized that Alison was about quiet moments shared and memories made. It was so different from the memories he had of six siblings, noise, and boisterous teasing, but it was no less powerful.

Margaret cleared her throat from behind them. "Dinner's ready if you two are done staring."

Thankful that he'd actually been lost in his memories of Scotland and happier days and not staring at Alison, Carson turned from studying the Christmas tree to see that Margaret had set their evening meal on the table. The thick stew would likely be served the next day, but it filled the cafe with its rich aroma and made his stomach growl. Alison grinned at him, telling him she'd heard, and he held her chair before turning to scowl at Margaret. The older woman had already settled rather than waiting for him, and he lightly teased her as he also sat down.

The trio laughed as they talked, and Margaret took the time to gently prod Carson about his life in Scotland. She only knew that his mother had passed a few months back, not that he'd decided to leave his family in peace following the death of the original Carson Beckett. He'd considered taking up the SGC's offer of a reunion, but he knew it would create too many questions. After all, his mum would wonder what poor soul had been buried in her son's place, and Carson wasn't sure he could handle pretending that the body wasn't that of his progenitor, for lack of a better term.

Now, though, he willingly shared memories of Christmases past, happy to have someone care enough to think about them. Not that his friends in Atlantis hadn't cared. They'd been willing to listen to him any time he'd wanted to talk, but he hadn't been at peace enough to share. Here, in Esperanza, he could truly let go and allow himself to remember.

After they finished the stew and had spent some time talking, Margaret bustled back into the kitchen and carried out a freshly made pie. "Now, I don't know if this is quite right as it's the first time I've ever used the recipe, but I hope you'll enjoy it." She set it in front of the pair at the table and grinned at Carson. "I did a bit of research and thought an apple butterscotch pie might be the thing to have in the coffee house for Christmas."

Carson blinked and actually laughed. "Margaret, this is wonderful! I'm sure of it!"

She dimpled as she cut the first slice and set it in front of Carson. He picked up his fork and ate the first bite while she served Alison but eyed him. The crisp apples contrasted with the butterscotch, and he couldn't help but smile at the unique flavor. Alison raised an eyebrow as she ate the first bite and then blinked. "Mom! This is fantastic!"

Margaret plopped into her seat. "Good!" She shrugged. "I thought adding some Scottish charm to our coffee house couldn't hurt."

Carson felt his neck heat at the words. "Well, I'm glad ye did, Margaret. Like Alison said, it's fantastic."

Margaret patted his hand at the compliment and ate her own serving. The three didn't say a lot as they enjoyed the pie, but it was that quiet companionship that made Carson think of how different his life was now. Before, he'd always traveled from planet to planet, forming friendships with people who would eventually be left behind. Here, he could put down roots. Although he wrestled with adjusting to the much slower pace of the small town, he loved every minute of it. Mostly, anyway. Knowing that a drug ring operated under the cover of Esperanza's small-town charm dimmed some of that attraction.

Finally, Margaret noticed Carson's weary expression and instructed Alison to take him home. Carson protested as expected, but he was grateful for the ride. He had considered his options about transportation later that week and had still come up with nothing beyond purchasing his own vehicle. For some reason, he hesitated. Like the last time she'd given him a ride, he invited Alison inside and enjoyed the feel of having someone other than himself in his home. He wasn't ready to be alone just yet.

As Alison shed her coat and draped it over the back of the couch, Carson broached the subject he'd kept quiet while around Margaret. "Jorge stopped in my office today."

Alison obviously recognized the serious tone in his voice. Her face took on that same determined expression she'd worn when he first met her. "Oh?"

"Aye." He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "He's undercover DEA," he said in a low voice.

Alison blinked. "Excuse me?" When he nodded, she glanced around. "And he told you why?"

"Because I was about to call the sheriff about the missin' medications in the pharmacy." Carson dropped into the couch, and she followed suit. "I considered not tellin' you, but he told me that background checks had cleared you and your mum."

She snorted at that. "As if a DEA background check could get anything on either of us." She sat up suddenly. "Wait. Did he suspect you?"

"No." Carson leaned forward. "Be careful when you're out after dark, love. This honestly changed how I look at this town."

She nodded with a smile. "Don't worry, Carson."

"I know ye can handle yourself, but humor me," he said softly. "Please."

"Okay." She looked around. "Wow. I never thought I'd learn that about my home town."

"I know what you mean." For a moment, his mind went back to that tiny cottage in the village, where he'd said the same thing to Alison but had meant something totally different. Then, she'd mentioned feeling like she was studying for her midterms. That moment was when his attraction for her moved beyond the physical into wanting to know more about her.

Finally, she stood with a sigh. "I should get back. Mom pulled Dad's car out of storage so I could use hers while I'm here, but I know she'll be waiting."

"Aye." Carson walked her to the door. "Thank you for everything, Alison."

"You're welcome." She hesitated on his front porch, seemingly not ready to leave, before walking to the car. Carson waved when she lifted a hand in farewell and closed the door with a weary smile. Yes, his conversation with Jorge had shaken him, but he had wonderful friends. He could do far worse.

~TBC