The fallout from all the events was slow in settling in to Esperanza. Once Carson had answered all the questions that Sheriff Peterson wanted to ask, he walked Alison across the street and into his home. Sheppard, McKay, Ronon, and Teyla joined them, the group silent as Alison sat on the couch with tears streaming down her face. She'd been exposed to the smoke from the fire, and she knew that she'd probably have sinus problems for a day or so. Carson allowed her to slip into his bathroom to wash her face and hands, and she smiled gratefully at him when he offered her a clean shirt. It would get most of the smoke off of her, and she could take care of the rest when she got home.

No one commented on Carson's oversized shirt when she reappeared. Jorge hadn't joined them, too busy helping Peterson get Engleside into custody. Engleside's actions—killing Katie, killing the man inside the house, and setting the fire—ensured that he was going away for life. The bittersweet reality was that the rest of the drug ring had likely vanished back to Mexico or Columbia and couldn't be found by the DEA. After a while, Carson broke the silence. "We found Katie."

McKay rolled his eyes. "Well, we kind of figured that." He jumped and glanced at Ronon, who had kicked him. "What?"

Alison turned back to Carson. "How is she?"

Carson blinked a few times and then shook his head. "She didn't make it. Engleside beat her so severely that her weakened body wasn't able to handle it."

That blow was another that Alison didn't need. The tears she'd kept at bay started flowing again, and Carson pulled her into his arms. The team stayed silent around them, accepting her and realizing that this was a bitter end to the entire affair. Carson propped his head on Alison's, letting his own emotions bleed off in a deep sigh. Comforting another person seemed to soothe the anger and bitterness swirling in his stomach at the thought that he'd, once again, lost a patient. Had he been on Atlantis, he might have saved her life. But here, in Esperanza, he wasn't able to do much of anything.

Finally, Sheppard put a hand on Carson's shoulder. "We'll be at the bed and breakfast," the colonel said softly. "If you think they'll have room for us."

McKay chuckled. "Santa has room for everyone."

Teyla blinked. "Santa? As in Santa Claus?"

Alison didn't lift her head from Carson's shoulder, but he heard her emotional laugh and knew it would only be a matter of time before she collapsed into an exhausted slumber. He grinned. "Not really Santa, love," he said to Teyla. "He just has a big white beard like Santa."

"I see," Teyla said with a smile. "Colonel Sheppard has been teaching Torren about Santa Claus."

Sheppard shrugged. "It's Christmas," he said as if that explained everything.

"Aye," Carson replied.

The group left the house a short time later. Once the door closed, Alison lifted her head. "I should have handled this better."

Carson lifted her chin. "Don't beat yourself up, love." He smiled sadly. "You've known these people all your life."

She sighed. "I know." Moving to the window, she looked down the street to where the volunteer fire department watched the house that still burned. "It was a meth lab. That's why they allowed it to burn."

Carson stepped up behind her and pulled her into his arms. As she relaxed against his chest, he shook his head. "I never would ha'e believed it if I hadn't seen all of this play out."

"Kind of anticlimactic, isn't it?"

"Aye."

They stood in silence for a time, watching the activity before Alison moved to the couch. Carson offered to start a fire but stopped when she glanced out the window again. Perhaps they should wait on any kind of fire until the emotion of the afternoon had faded. At a loss for what to do, Carson simply sat next to Alison and listened as she told him about her afternoon, the money trail Rodney had followed, and finding Engleside outside of the house. He shared his adventures of the day, and they simply enjoyed one another's company. Carson smiled again when Alison finally nodded off on his shoulder, and he gently moved so that she could stretch out on the couch. She barely stirred, a sign that her emotion and the stress—not to mention jet lag from having barely returned from the Alps—had caught up to her.

The sun had fully set when Carson saw lights cross the window of his house as a car pulled into the driveway. He rushed to open the door, hoping not to wake Alison from her sleep. He grinned when he saw Margaret watching the residual activity down the street from his home. Firefighters still worked, trying to ferret out hot spots in the rubble that might flare up again. When she saw him in the door, she hurried inside. Seeing Alison sleeping on his couch, she smirked. "I figured she'd be here."

"Aye," Carson said softly as he closed the door. He pulled Margaret into his office where they could talk without worrying about waking Alison. "I'd like for her to stay here tonight."

Margaret grinned at him. "You don't need my permission for her to stay, Carson. Nor does she." She sobered quickly. "Is it true about Doug?"

He glanced away from her and leaned against his desk. "It is." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Margaret. I know you've known the Engleside family for a lot o' years."

She didn't reply. Folding her arms across her chest, she moved out of the office to stare at her daughter. "How was Alison involved?"

"She was helping Dr. McKay and Jorge investigate." Carson shook his head. "I went after Katie when the lass was kidnapped from the clinic, and Alison stayed behind. She was there when the fire was called in to the sheriff's office and arrived in time to hear Engleside's confession. He had tracked down the meth dealer that had sold the drugs to Debbie and killed him before setting fire to the house."

Margaret nodded and glanced at Carson. "I'll be back with some dinner and clothes for her. She probably wants to get the smell of smoke off of her before too much longer."

"Aye," Carson agreed.

Margaret faced him. "You're good for her," she said forcefully. "And she's good for you."

He took Margaret by the shoulders and steered her toward the door. "Don't worry, Mum." He used the endearment on purpose. "I don't intend to let her out of my life so easily."

"Good." With that, Margaret was gone and left Carson to his thoughts.

oOo

Alison woke slowly, smiling at the familiar sights around her. The couch wasn't the most comfortable, but the blanket was warm. Delicious aromas came from the kitchen, and she heard Carson moving about as quietly as he could. Waking in his home wasn't a normal occurrence for her, but she wanted to experience it—and a lot of things—on a regular basis. For just a moment, she decided to ignore her job with the SGC, everything that had happened that day, and the pressures of life to pretend that this was her life. That she and Carson shared everything she wanted to share with him.

Finally, she sat up. He stood in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove. Either he knew she was awake or he hadn't noticed her stirring. Alison figured it was the former option and instead smoothed her hair down while she stood and stretched. Carson glanced at her but waited for her to join him in the kitchen. He greeted her with a slow kiss. "Your mum stopped by a while back with some dinner and clothes for you." He pointed to a bag on his easy chair. "You can shower and change if you like."

Alison nodded. "Thanks, Carson."

"Always, love." He watched her go, and Alison almost asked him to join her in the shower. It wasn't the time, though the thought was quite appealing. Pushing it aside, she started the water and found her shampoo, body soap, fresh clothing in the bag her mother brought.

Once clean and free from the smell of smoke, Alison rejoined Carson in the kitchen. He served her meal and settled across from her, allowing her to see how exhausted he really was. She thanked him for having her, and the smile he gave her was worth every moment. Like when they were in the Swiss Alps, the two of them stayed up talking until neither of them could see straight. The emotional events of the day were covered, and Carson freely admitted how Katie's death affected him. Though he'd never fully liked the woman on a personal level, she'd been a good employee.

Just before she drifted to sleep on his shoulder, Alison smiled. "I like this," she said, sleep slurring her words. "Just me and you."

"Aye," he answered softly. "Me, too."

She fell asleep, unaware of how he stared at the ceiling for a good long time and truly thought about the decisions he faced.

oOo

Christmas Day dawned bright and clear. Carson woke with a smile, grateful that the events of the week could be put behind them for a time. Katie's funeral would be held two days after Christmas, and Doug Engleside had been transported to a county holding facility until he was arraigned. Jorge had left Esperanza completely with his investigation complete, but he admitted that he would be back. His time in the DEA was coming to a close, and he liked the town well enough to bring his family to live there. The DEA found evidence of drugs in Engleside's warehouses, but they couldn't locate the shipments or Engleside's foreman. That particular person seemed to have disappeared without a trace. Jorge assured Carson that they would find the man, but peace had returned to the town.

Christmas would be good for Esperanza. Though it had been an incredible season for Carson—not counting the time between his trip to the Alps and Christmas Day—the town had suffered. Mrs. Engleside and her daughter had left for good, heading back to Boston to build a life for themselves. Katie's death and Doug's involvement in it shook the town, and people were glad to have a reason to think about something other than death, drugs, corruption, or betrayal.

Now, Carson pulled a plastic-draped hangar from the rear of his closet and laid the clothes out on his bed. He'd not had a reason to wear this particular outfit before, but he hoped Margaret and Alison would understand. Just yesterday, Alison had pulled him aside while he helped serve the Christmas Eve rush in the coffee house and explained the family tradition of dressing formally for Christmas Day. Apparently, it went back to Alison's paternal grandparents, and Carson readily agreed to show up to Margaret's home dressed for a night on the town, never mind that it would just be him, Alison, and Margaret. He quite looked forward to seeing the ladies that day and realized he'd found another family outside of his Atlantis family.

Finally, with his kilt, tux jacket, sporran, kilt hose, and every hair in place, Carson gathered his Christmas gifts and drove to the Porter house. He wasn't ashamed of his Scottish heritage, though he saw a few curious glances aimed his way. He remembered Rodney's assertion that Carson wouldn't wear a kilt at the McKay-Keller wedding and wondered how Jennifer's Christmas Day had gone. Rodney had planned to propose early that morning, and he'd hurried back to Canada after turning everything he'd discovered on Engleside, Katie, and the meth dealer down the street over to Jorge.

Alison answered Carson's knock, and she stopped and simply stared. His smile widened as her eyes traveled from his face to his feet and back. He did his own inspection, loving what he saw. Alison wore a sleek sleeveless black dress that ended just below her knees. The neckline was modestly scooped, but the dress hugged her curves in a way that was both modest and utterly enchanting. The watch Sheppard bought for her in Switzerland glittered around her left wrist, and she wore that distracting diamond necklace that nestled into the hollow at her throat.

Deciding that he could make a move now, Carson stepped into the house and closed the door behind him. "You look stunning," he said softly.

Alison didn't move away from him, smiling up into his eyes. "So do you."

Carson chuckled at that and bent to kiss her. She responded immediately, slipping her arms around his neck as he pulled her closer to his body. Realizing that Margaret would find this utterly thrilling, he didn't even respond when the woman rounded the corner.

"Alison, are you going to let the man inside. . . .Oh!"

Carson lifted his head and didn't look away from Alison. "Hello, Margaret."

Alison flushed crimson, thrilling him even more. "Mom!"

Margaret had the grace to look a bit chagrined on walking in on her daughter and daughter's boyfriend almost making out. "Sorry. I'll just. . . .I'll be in the kitchen." She ducked around the corner.

Alison waited until she heard pots clang together to share a laugh with Carson. She shook her head. "While that was totally embarrassing for me, I've never seen her embarrassed like that!"

"Aye," Carson agreed as he accompanied Alison into the living room. "But, in her defense, when have you been around and dating anyone?"

"Like you?" Alison shrugged. "Never." She paused for a moment and then allowed her grin to spread across her face. "I really do like the kilt, Carson."

"Good." He returned the grin with a cheeky smile of his own. "Because I'll honestly say I wasn't too certain about wearin' it today."

"I'm glad you did."

They found Margaret in the kitchen and helped the woman finish up Christmas dinner. Nothing more was said of the incident beside the door, though Margaret asked multiple questions about Carson's "get-up," as she termed it. She was never disrespectful, but she knew nothing about Scottish tradition. He willingly shared about the Highland Games, proper etiquette, and various other questions, smiling at Alison as he did so. The curiosity didn't offend him, and he realized he'd probably have other questions from various townspeople once regular business started up again.

With Christmas dinner eaten, the dishes loaded into the dishwasher, and the trio feeling quite satisfied with themselves, they settled into the living room furniture around the tiny tree Margaret had set up. Business at the coffee house had been such that Alison and her mother hadn't really decorated the house. It was more than Carson had done, preferring to enjoy the tree he and Alison had decorated at the coffee house.

Now, though, Margaret beamed when she realized Carson had added two gifts to the tiny pile beneath it. She handed them out and, with a firm glare at Carson for asking her to go first, opened his gift to her. The gold bracelet with three gemstones and three names made her cry, as Carson suspected it might. But she hugged him tightly, thanking him for thinking of her family. The bracelet had the Margaret's, Alison's, and Alison's father's birthstones and names on it. She immediately put it on her wrist, and he knew it would likely stay there from now on.

Alison slowly opened her gift next. Carson hadn't known what to get for her outside of jewelry, so he'd chosen carefully when picking up the necklace. A diamond-accented snowflake of white gold hung from a delicate chain. She asked him to put it on immediately, and Margaret grinned as he fumbled with the clasp. Finally, as it settled next to the other necklace she wore, he smiled. "For our time in the Alps."

Alison's hand went to it, and she went cross-eyed trying to see it. "I love it, Carson. Thank you."

They would have stared at one another had Margaret not cleared her throat. "Okay, love birds, get on with life!"

Carson gave her an indulgent look before glancing at Alison. "Did she ever have these moments with your father?"

Alison shuddered. "Worse!"

Margaret threw a balled up piece of wrapping paper at her daughter, bouncing it off of her head with accuracy that spoke of years of practice.

Finally, it was time for Carson to open his gift. He carefully unwrapped the box, but his breath left him in a rush when he saw the sgian-dubh lying in the black velvet. One of the finest he'd ever seen, it had cairngorm stones on the polished bog wood hilt. Pulling the knife from its sheath, he smiled at the acid etching on the blade. "Alison, this is. . . ." He couldn't finish the sentence without tears in his eyes. It meant so much to him to have such a gift on Christmas Day. He might not have been able to return to the home he remembered in Scotland, but she had managed to give him a piece of Scotland. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Carson." She hugged him when he pulled her close.

The evening passed quietly after sharing gifts. Alison kicked off the low heels she'd worn all day, and Carson eventually ditched his sporran and bow tie. By the time he returned home, he was firm in his decisions for the future. More than simply being a small-town doctor, he wanted a life with Alison and his family close. And he could only do that from one place: Atlantis.

~TBC

Author's Note: I am sitting at my parents' place sipping Mountain Dew (it was eggnog a few moments ago!) and posting this. There's one more chapter to post tomorrow, but I don't quite know what my schedule will be with the holiday. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas Eve! ~lg