"Good morning, Dr. Beckett." Katie's business-like greeting pulled Carson's head up from where he'd been discussing a patient chart with Jorge. Even though he was undercover DEA, the man knew his stuff. Carson wondered exactly how he had all this knowledge and realized he must really be a nurse for him to do this job so well.
"Good morning, Katie," Carson said absently as she walked past him. Today, she wore a pair of black slacks with a ruffled white blouse under a tan wool coat and red scarf. Her heeled boots clattered on the tile floor, but she didn't look back at the two men as she disappeared into the front of the clinic.
"Huh," Jorge said, surprised. "That was different."
"Aye," Carson agreed. Normally, Katie hung around the two, letting her eyes linger on Carson for too long. Today, she simply ignored him. The surprise faded as he realized he might not have to sit down and talk with her. He'd been working to figure out just how to do that in such a way that she wouldn't use the private meeting to her advantage. Giving the patient file back to Jorge, he turned for his office.
"Hey, Doc?" Jorge's voice stopped him. "Have you decided when you'll re-open the pharmacy?"
"Today," Carson said firmly. "I thought about delayin', but there's really no need. I'll just cover fillin' the prescriptions for the foreseeable future."
Jorge nodded. "Good to know." He went about his business, leaving Carson to the silence.
In his office, Carson dropped into his chair and sighed. He needed to ask Alison about transportation to Albuquerque in two days, and he also needed to complete the notes on his lecture. He'd chose to talk about the influence of genetics in how a person responded to medications, and he was working his experiences in the Pegasus galaxy into the lecture without breaking classifications. After all, his research on the Hoffan plague applied to Earth science. He just needed to transition it from "alien" to "domestic." Though, as he thought about it, calling anything related to Earth "domestic" seemed a bit unusual.
"Dr. Beckett?" Katie's voice pulled him out of his work-induced bubble, and he glanced up to see her waiting in the office door, standing up straight as opposed to leaning over. Her ruffled blouse was still low-cut, but she'd done nothing else to draw his attention. "You received a package."
Carson accepted the box and glanced at the return address. "Oh, thank you, dear." He smiled at her. "That's my insulin." While he owned his own pharmacy, he hoped no one would think it strange that he'd ordered his medication from another source. He really didn't want to come up with a cover story for that!
She nodded once and left him alone. Carson stared after her, perplexed. Normally, he wouldn't have noticed any woman—save maybe Alison. But something had changed between yesterday and today. It was as if Katie had suddenly been replaced with a creature who didn't know how she truly acted. And, of course, it was entirely possible. Working to divorce his mind from suspicions related to the Pegasus galaxy, he turned back to his research.
When lunch finally arrived, he gratefully took the break and headed down the street to the coffee house. It was time to ask someone for a favor.
oOo
Alison glanced up as the bell over the door jingled. She was ready for a break, to sit down and rest her feet. Standing in one place for a long period of time was totally different from moving through alien terrain and running for her life. Though, since returning to the Milky Way, she hadn't done much of the latter as most of her team's assignments had been to meet-and-greets with various planets as the SGC decided what to do with Atlantis. She quite liked the slow pace of a barista in her mother's coffee house, but her body was itching for a good work out that only an off-world mission would provide.
Seeing Carson enter the coffee house with a file tucked under his arm and his smile in place seemed like a good enough reason to take a break. Her mother appeared from the kitchen and gave her daughter a sly look. "Go. I'll cover the front for a while."
"Thanks, Mom." Alison finished making the coffee her current customer had ordered and quickly pulled out two plates. Carson had come in that morning for coffee, and Alison already knew what he'd order. Her mother had given her a hint that morning, and she quickly finished the two sandwiches. By the time he reached the counter, he simply had to pay for the meal.
Instead of serving him right away, Alison fixed her own lunch and carried the two plates to the booth he'd chosen. He was currently staring at the Christmas tree in the window, and she smiled. Last night had been wonderful, and she'd set aside two pieces of the apple butterscotch pie that morning so that she'd have something to serve him for dessert. Now, she remembered the warmth of his hands on her waist as she'd stepped down from the chair and shook her head. She shouldn't be so drawn to him.
He blinked when she arrived at his table, a smile causing his eyes to sparkle. "Och, thank you, love."
Alison slid into the booth across from him. "I hope you don't mind if I join you."
"Of course not!" He set aside the file he'd opened but not really studied.
"Good." She nodded. "What are you working on?"
"Oh, just a guest lecture." He sighed. "I'm supposed to be in Albuquerque on Friday, an' I have no idea how I'm goin' to get there."
She grinned at his chagrined look. It seemed like he'd allowed his tongue to get the better of him and he now regretted his words. "Carson, you just need to ask. I'd be happy to give you a ride."
He had the good grace to look a bit sheepish. "I'm sorry, love. I meant to ask you last night, an' the opportunity didn't present itself." He set down his sandwich and met her eyes. "I need to go to Albuquerque to guest lecture at UNM on Friday. Would you be willin' to take me? I'll pay for everythin', take ye out to dinner, whatever you'd like to do."
Alison grinned at the invitation, wondering just how long she should make him squirm. When it came to Carson Beckett, there was little that she didn't find adorable. He had this amazing quality about him that made life seem simpler, more innocent than it really was. It left her wondering how such a good man could have landed in her life. "I like Italian food," she said by way of acceptance.
His eyebrows rose. "Is that so?"
"Yep." She shrugged. "There's a great place in Colorado Springs, but I don't get to go often. Maybe we can find something in Albuquerque."
His surprise melted into a smile. "I'll see what I can find," he said with a low, smooth tone to his voice. Alison suppressed the shiver of awareness that went down her spine at that. She needed to be careful, but hours in the car with no one to distract them from one another seemed like a really great idea right about now. She especially looked forward to being able to speak freely about their time with the Stargate Program and how it affected their lives now.
Once they finished their meal, Alison rose to take their plates to the back. She watched him go back to his notes, happy that he wasn't rushing right out the door. She rather enjoyed the silences, instinctively knowing that Carson wasn't much for small talk when he was so focused. Part of her wanted to sit in on the guest lecture, knowing that she'd have a perfectly reasonable excuse to stare at him. Now, however, she'd settle for sitting across from him and sharing a cup of hot cocoa and pie.
She returned to the table and surprised him by setting the cup of hot cocoa in front of him. The peppermint flavoring she'd added was subtle, and she hoped he'd like it. He glanced up at her as he wrapped his fingers around the cup. "Now, love, ye know I'm not supposed ta have this with the diabetes," he said.
She smiled. "It's sugar-free."
"Ah." His grin told her that he appreciated her playing along with the cover for the serum he took. Still, with that in mind, she decided to wait on the pie she'd reserved earlier that day.
Sliding back into the booth, she grinned. "I saved two pieces of that apple butterscotch pie from last night, but maybe I should wait for that."
"Aye, probably a good idea."
"Besides," she said conspiratorially as she leaned toward him, "you're as diabetic as you are American."
His mischievous grin appeared again, and he sipped the hot cocoa.
Pointing at the file, she ignored the way that grin affected her. "What are you lecturing on?"
"The influence a person's genetics plays in how he or she responds to various medications." His voice also lowered, but the tone in it was no longer playful. "I'm usin' a lot of my research from overseas to present."
"Carson, are you allowed to do that?"
"Aye." He propped his elbows on the table and wrapped both hands around the mug. "I've already gained clearance for that so long as I changed the. . .foreign. . .aspects of the research for what I'm presentin'. Besides, I'm only wantin' to discuss how that genetic predisposition can affect a patient. For example, a person who does not respond well to morphine will, naturally, not have a good experience with heroin. That affects how a doctor treats his or her patient."
Alison nodded. "I can see where it would be useful."
"Aye, an' it's somethin' I was never taught in medical school." He shrugged. "Of course, that was a few years ago," he said wryly. Then his face fell. "I mean. . . ."
Alison reached across the table and covered the hand that had dropped when he realized what he'd said. "Carson." When he looked up, she smiled. "You're as much Carson Beckett as he was. And, as far as I'm concerned, you went to medical school, graduated with honors, and did all of that. I know it's an unusual situation, but you should never be afraid to talk about those memories without qualifying them to me."
His smile was quick to appear, but it held a bit of sadness as his hand turned to take hers. "Thank you, love."
"Don't mention it." She turned as a large group of teenagers came through the door and sighed. "I should probably get back to work."
"Aye," he said again. Rising at the same time she did, he took her elbow. "Thank you. For everything."
"You're welcome, Carson." Alison watched him leave the coffee house, her heart heavy for him. He was in such an unusual position, remembering things that he'd never really done. As far as he was concerned, he'd graduated from medical school, had served on Atlantis until his capture by Michael. He had no memory of ever being created although that was exactly what had happened. She remembered being a bit upset when Dusty had unthinkingly talked about how things in life didn't matter to people in stasis. Carson's stricken expression back then had worked on her, but it hadn't affected her quite like the surprised expression he'd worn a few moments ago. It was like he forgot about his true past for a bit. She hoped that she could allow him that reprieve—without the memory returning—sometime in the future.
oOo
Katie watched Carson return from his lunch break and wondered what had happened. He had left with his file tucked under his arm and a smile on his face. He returned with the same file, but the smile was missing. It was as if he'd had something happen that destroyed the remainder of his day.
Mrs. Blanchard arriving for her appointment pulled Katie's mind away from Carson. She signed the elderly woman in, listened to her complaints about aches and pains, and smiled in all the right places. Carson appeared a few minutes later, lab coat and smile in place, and called Mrs. Blanchard back with a friendly tone. Katie wryly wondered if the woman's wink as she passed the receptionist's desk was because she'd get to have Carson alone and talking to only her. Katie sighed and wished it was that easy.
Ten minutes later, Mrs. Blanchard reappeared and handed Katie her insurance card as Carson slipped into the pharmacy. The elderly woman soon followed, though she went through the front door, and Katie's eyebrows rose. The pharmacy was open? She stood and, as carefully as possible, crept to the door between the clinic and the pharmacy. She could hear Carson's friendly voice chatting with Mrs. Blanchard, though their voices were too low for her to truly hear what was said.
Returning to her desk, Katie managed to look busy until Carson returned. She stood and, sparing him only a glance, began to collect her things. "I need to get going early today," she said off-handedly. "I promised to work extra at the cafe, and I know we don't have any other appointments for the day."
"Oh, okay," Carson agreed. He smiled at her. "Thank you, Katie. Have a wonderful evening."
"You too, Carson." She stared as he headed for his office. The man had actually smiled at her without the prompting of a joke or some such thing. So, this plan is working, she thought. Happy with the progress, she walked to the cafe, passing the coffee house on her way. A glance in the window revealed Alison Porter working behind the counter. Katie smiled slyly. Alison was a home-town girl. She wore dowdy blouses to work and stayed with her mother. Although she had some high-paying job that Margaret never allowed anyone in town to forget about, Alison Porter was nothing. She was innocent to the ways of the world, and Katie couldn't understand what Carson saw in her. Of course, once her plan worked, Katie wouldn't have to worry about Alison or any other woman. When she was finished, Carson would be hers, and she would have everything she ever wanted.
oOo
Late that evening, Carson sat alone in Esperanza's church, having come here for some quiet before returning home. He could have done his thinking at home, but he wasn't keen on facing those four walls again. Not with the thoughts swirling through his head.
After leaving Alison that day, he'd returned to the clinic and had seen his one patient for the afternoon. Elderly Mrs. Blanchard had needed a refill on her blood pressure medication, so Carson had escorted her next door to fill it right then. As he worked, she chatted. Then, she commented on seeing him at church on Sunday. He tried to brush it off, saying that he'd never been a very religious person. She had been under the impression that he'd always gone to church, however, given that he was Scottish. With a smile, he gently informed her that not all Scottish people were religious and sent her on her way.
But her words started working on him. And she wasn't wrong. His memories of sitting on a hard wooden pew as a boy, cooped up when he'd rather be outside playing, returned with a vengeance and left him morose after his slip with Alison. He rarely allowed himself to indulge in those memories, knowing they weren't really his. But today seemed to bring up all of those thoughts, and he needed to work them out.
"Doc?" The soft voice of Esperanza's pastor broke the silence.
Carson turned and saw Ricardo Sanchez moving his direction. "I'm sorry. If ye need to lock up, I'll head home."
"No need." Pastor Sanchez sat down next to him. "What's on your mind?"
Carson looked at the altar. "A lot." For some reason, talking with the pastor seemed like the most natural thing to do. But he'd been meeting with Atlantis's padre off and on for the last year since his return from Michael's custody. "I've just been thinkin' about some questions I've not yet had answered."
"Perhaps I can answer them?"
Carson gave the man a direct look. "With all due respect, Pastor, I've been askin' these questions for over a year, an' I've not found an answer that I like."
"Could it be you're wanting an answer that doesn't exist?"
Carson blinked at the man's response. He always thought he'd worked this issue of whether or not he had a soul out, and it always crept up when he least expected it. "I really can't say whether I am or not. As it is, this is related to work I've done before coming to Esperanza, an' I can't tell you much more." He genuinely regretted having to shut the man out when Sanchez merely wanted to help him.
Pastor Sanchez nodded sagely. "Then, may I suggest you find someone you can speak with?" He shrugged. "Whatever's bugging you, Doc, has an answer. Even if it's one we don't want to hear as humans or whether it's one we're not ready to accept. But every question has an answer."
"Aye," Carson said softly. "I'm sure it does." He pushed to his feet and touched the man's shoulder in gratitude as he headed for the door. He hated shutting down the conversation, but he really couldn't talk. Not like he needed to talk. He felt the pent-up questions and emotions inside and knew that he would soon fall apart if he didn't find someone who could understand what he'd gone through.
Alison's face popped into his mind and he shook his head as he walked. He really shouldn't put as much pressure on her as he had, but she was the one person in this town that he could openly talk to about the reality of his life. She didn't understand what it meant to be a clone—not really—but she was sensitive to what he needed to hear. He'd seen it when they first met, and he'd experienced it just that afternoon. She likely wouldn't have the answers he needed, but it would feel great just to get them spoken and asked. And, maybe, he'd find that someone else had the same questions he did.
~TBC