Warnings: Bad language. Smut towards the end, straying into M territory, but not explicit.

Chapter 13

An hour later, they trudged through dense undergrowth, Ronon taking point with one of the few uninjured survivors guiding them in the direction of the second village. Carson and Tamsin were in the middle, flanked by two marines. Apart from Ronon and the local, who wore similar amounts and styles of clothing, the rest were soaked to the skin from the steady drizzle that had set in.

Sheppard had been reluctant to let them go without him, but the village leader had insisted he stay. Teyla had joined another search team. Ronon had pointed out that he was pretty much a Marine squad by himself, and Sheppard had reluctantly waved them off, insisting on regular radio contact.

Not for the first time, Tamsin heard Carson mutter a soft curse as he stumbled on another tree root. If she was perfectly honest, she'd be glad for a rest, too. Even in military-issue boots, the rough terrain was causing twinges in her dodgy ankle. She could see a week of hobbling around in ACE bandages and a lecture from Carson in her immediate future.

Up ahead, Ronon froze, signalling them to stop and get down. Carson hesitated for a moment and she hauled on his wrist, dragging him down. He shot her an indignant look, about to protest, but she put one finger to her lips and pointed to Ronon. Carson nodded, then turned his attention to the Satedan.

Ronon appeared to be consulting with the guide, but she couldn't make out the words over the rain and forest sounds. The guide stood, signalling the rest of the group to get up.

"It is safe. They are friends," he called.

Two more men emerged from the undergrowth, their clothing having concealed them perfectly. Only Ronon had spotted them. Though there was no obvious threat, Tamsin was glad to have Ronon with them.

The two men spoke briefly with Ronon and the guide. They glanced in the direction of Carson and Tamsin.

"Come, there are injured this way," the guide said, motioning them to join him.

The ground rose sharply, the team scrambling through slippery leaf-litter and tree roots. As they reached the top, they could only see one small tent.

"I thought this was a village? Where's the rest of them?" Carson gasped, catching his breath.

"It is a village, but we prefer to live further apart than in the main settlement. We do not wish to move the injured too far, so they are not all in one place."

"Aye, that's probably wise, son. Where are the first ones, then?" Carson snapped into action at the mention of patients.

The man led them to the first hut. Peering into the gloom, Tamsin could see two forms on the rough floor. One was pale and still, the other also pale, but moaning slightly and still breathing. Carson quickly knelt down and checked the carotid pulse. He quietly shook his head, turning his attention to the other.

"There are more besides these," the second of the village men said.

Tamsin paused, torn between leaving Carson and the need to help the injured.

He looked up. "Go, I can manage here. Ronon, please go with Tamsin."

"Not leaving you, Doc," Ronon grunted, planting his feet outside the tent. He addressed them both as 'Doc', but it was clear he meant Carson on this occasion.

Sensing an argument brewing, Tamsin stepped in. "I'll be fine with Peters and Chen here. The few and the proud, right, lads?"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Carson looked doubtful, but he offered no further protest.

"I'll be fine, love," she said softly, trying to convey how little she wanted to leave him too.

His expression changed briefly as she realised what she'd said.

She glanced between Ronon and the marines. If any of them noticed what had just passed between Carson and her, they didn't let on. She ducked out of the tent, pushing the feelings away. The marines dutifully followed like faithful hounds as the village man led them to another tent.

This tent was smaller, with a single female occupant. The young woman turned frightened eyes on her.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

"A friend, my name is Tamsin. Are you hurt?" she smiled, hoping to reassure the girl.

"My leg, it's broken, I think. I am Niphie," the girl replied.

Tamsin gently lifted Niphie's skirt. She managed to not to wince at the sight of bright white bone protruding from filthy skin. Compound fracture of the tibia, she thought. Her mind automatically ran through treatment procedures, starting with pain relief for the girl. As she worked, she kept one ear out for danger, despite the marines posted outside.

Suddenly, there was a whine from the sky.

Darts! She thought, feeling her blood run cold as Peters echoed her thought outside. Carson! She scrambled for her radio, tapping it three times before she could get a connection.

"Carson, do you read me?" she croaked, trying to keep her voice calm. There was only static at the other end.

"Carson, are you there?" Still nothing but static. "Ronon?" she tried. Shit! Neither of them were answering and the other teams were too far away to help.

Peters ducked into the tent. "We've got darts overhead, Doc."

"I'm not fucking deaf, Peters." She glared at the marine. "Where's Chen? Can you raise anyone on the radio?"

"No radio, The Wraith may be scrambling comms, and Chen went to scout the perimeter."

Since when did Wraith jam comms? And how did they know there would even be radios to scramble?

"Uh, Doc, we may have bigger problems. There are hostiles on the ground." Peters glanced at the life signs detector in his left hand.

She snatched the device from him. Three white dots in the centre of the screen herself, Peters and Niphie, two more a short distance away, Carson and Ronon, she thought. Wait, shit, four red dots converging on their positions. But who were the two white dots on the edge? Chen and who? There were only five in the Lantean team. The other moving dot must be Ronon, which meant Carson was alone with the patient. Fuck!

Scrambling to her feet, she ripped her sidearm from its' holster.

"Peters, stay here with Niphie."

"Doc…"

"That's an order, Corporal!" she barked.

"Yes ma'am!"

Crouching at the entrance she glanced down at the LSD. A white dot advanced on a red, which blinked out. Chen or Ronon had got one of the bastards then. The other two were circling back, the third nearly on top of Carson's position.

Shit! She broke away from the tent, in the fastest crouching run she could manage, hugging the brush as much as possible. She dropped down as she reached the tent, again checking the LSD. The Wraith was right there, it must be right inside the tent. She dropped the LSD, gripping the sidearm in both hands and easing off the safety. Offering up a silent prayer to a god she didn't believe in, she counted to three, then swung into the tent.

In a split second, she saw Carson trapped on his back, the Wraith's hand at his throat, its feeding hand poised.

She fired, over and over. Even as the Wraith seemed to rise and advance towards her, she kept firing, as if in a dream. In slow motion, the creature fell backwards, landing in a sprawled heap. The click of an empty clip brought her attention back. Only half aware that it was down, she ejected the spent clip, fingers searching for the spare in her TAC vest.

"Tam… Tam… it's dead." She turned, confused, as strong fingers eased the M9 from hers. "It's dead." She blinked, sensation rushing back in, realising Carson was now standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her. She wasn't sure which of them was shaking the most.

"I thought…you…Ithoughtyouweredead…" the words rushed out, along with the rising nausea.

"I know…but I'm not." He gave a shaky chuckle and she turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Even a Wraith can't survive a whole clip at close range." He jerked his chin in the direction of the foul creature.

She leant forward, easing out of Carson's arms.

The chest area was a mess, she couldn't count individual entry points. There were four wounds to its face, the twisted features obscured by blood. A shaft of weak light filtered through a single bullet hole in the tent canopy opposite them.

"Obviously not a perfect score then." She indicated the hole.

"Aye, but close enough."

They stood for a few moments. The whine of Ronon's blaster screeched in the distance.

"Where's bloody Ronon? He said he wouldn't leave you." Tamsin was angry now, the fear wearing off a little knowing Carson was safe.

Further shots, this time from a P90, echoed around the woods.

"Clear!" Ronon's voice, followed by the sound of boots crunching through the leaf litter. The big man ducked into the tent, instantly taking in the scene before him.

"Everyone ok?" he asked, a look passing between him and Carson. Even in this state, Tamsin knew there was something they weren't telling her.

The radios chose that moment to return to life, Sheppard's voice cutting in.

"What the hell is going on? Is everyone ok? We had Darts and Wraith down here."

Carson tapped his radio first. "Aye, Colonel. We're just peachy. It seems Doctor Lucas is quite the markswoman."

SGA

It was a sombre party that trudged back into the Atlantis gateroom some forty-eight hours later. Barely a quarter of the population of Chiri had survived, leaving around two thousand individuals scattered across the forest. There had been talk of them moving further from the gate, but they had refused to leave their world, explaining that they had recovered from Wraith attacks in the past. However, they were willing to accept whatever help Atlantis could offer them.

Tamsin stumbled on the last step, the dodgy ankle re-asserting itself, but she managed not to fall flat on her face. She really didn't need to draw any more attention to herself.

As she steadied herself, she met Carson's look. She'd caught him eyeing her several times back on the planet when he clearly thought she wasn't aware, but he'd looked away again. It was as if he wanted to ask her something, but there hadn't been an opportunity. She hadn't forgotten that moment between him and Ronon back in the tent and she had questions of her own.

"Alright people, I know it's been tough, but get checked out and cleaned up and we'll debrief at eighteen hundred." Sheppard announced, still standing in front of the inactive gate. He jogged down the steps, followed by Ronon, coming to stand directly in front of Tamsin.

"I want you in the de-brief, Lucas."

"You'll have my report tonight," she began.

"No argument, I want you in there."

"Understood." She couldn't help adding a mental Yes Sir! as Sheppard strode off with Ronon and Teyla in tow. She was really in for it now.

SGA

The debrief dragged on as Woolsey insisted on discussing the finer details of Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla's verbal reports. Tamsin allowed herself to drift, only half-aware of proceedings. Woolsey was currently trying to pry details out of Ronon over the Wraith encounters. Ronon's account of "Wraith showed up, I ran, I shot them, they died," seemed not to be sufficient for the bureaucrat. No-one had said anything about her own encounter and to be honest, she felt pretty sick when she thought about it. The memory of it with its hand around Carson's throat, pinning him to the ground and about to feed kept escaping like an evil spirit from the box she tried to hide it in. She knew the memory would haunt her for days.

Woolsey was still talking, but from the tone of his voice, the meeting was drawing to a close. She frowned for a moment, why had Sheppard wanted her there if she wasn't going to be called on to give her own report? Frankly, it seemed like a massive waste of time.

Woolsey gathered his papers, standing as the others did, and the conference room doors swung open. Tamsin stood to leave, Carson briefly touching her wrist as he leaned in.

"I'll catch you later," he said. His tone was neutral, but she knew there was no escaping an awkward conversation. She really should have been honest with him from the start. She went to follow him out.

"Not you, Lucas."

She hadn't noticed Sheppard was still in the room, sprawling back in his seat.

"Have a seat, Doc," he drawled, waving a hand towards the chair she'd just vacated. This was it then. She drew a breath, remaining standing, unconsciously slipping into parade rest.

"I'll stand, thank you," her voice morphed into clipped Queen's English. She cringed – she'd always hated how it did that when she was nervous or angry.

Sheppard smirked. "At ease, Doc." He sat up suddenly, a shrewd look in those hazel eyes. "Or should I say Major?" He leaned back in the chair, as if he'd just solved the world's greatest mystery.

Tamsin closed her eyes for a moment. Instead of the sick feeling, all she felt was relief – she didn't have to pretend any more. She opened her eyes, meeting his steady gaze.

"It hasn't been Major for four years."

Sheppard flipped open a folder, shuffling through the sheets of paper.

"Iraq, Kosovo, Afghanistan. Exemplary service record, even a few commendations." He looked up with that sharp gaze again. "What went wrong?"

"I resigned my commission. Family reasons."

He paused for a moment, seeming to weigh up her answer. "Fair enough. It certainly explains a few things. What it doesn't explain is why you thought going up against a Wraith alone with only an M9 was a good idea."

"Well, I didn't have a P90 handy. Sometimes you have to make do."

He sighed. "Were you even thinking? You had two marines with you."

"Which is why I ordered Peters to stay with Nihie. I thought she had a better chance with him."

"So you went after a Wraith, alone."

"Someone had to see if Carson was ok. Good thing I got there when I did – the bloody thing was about to feed on him. Ronon charged off when he was supposed to be on guard."

A strange look passed across Sheppard's' face, it mirrored the one she'd seen on Ronon the previous day.

"He hasn't told you, has he?"

"Who hasn't told me what?" She asked, confused. She was under the impression cryptic explanations and suggestions were more McKay's department, but his influence seemed to have rubbed off on the colonel.

"Not my place to say. You'll have to ask Carson yourself." There was no arguing with that, she thought.

"I will." Well at least she knew who she was supposed to talk to now. What about was anyone's guess.

"Lorne said you'd be trouble, after you got back from - ."

"Really, Evan said that? I'm going to kick his arse when I see him next." She paused for a moment "Well, I'll wait 'til he's back on active duty. Give him a fighting chance, at least."

Sheppard shook his head, a smirk on his face. "You are something else, Doc. Just don't make a habit of it – skin of the teeth rescues are kinda my thing, you know? Wouldn't wanna lose my reputation."

"I'll try and keep the drama within the Infirmary in future. Goodnight, Colonel."

"'Night, Doc."

Tamsin couldn't resist a cheeky mock salute as she left the conference room.

SGA

Pausing outside the conference room, Tamsin took a moment to collect her thoughts. That could easily have gone badly – she had half-expected Sheppard to chew her out and send her packing, but she seemed to have got away with it. Still, she'd try and keep her head down for the next few weeks. Now to find Carson – he hadn't hung around after the meeting, so she tried to think where he might have gone. It wasn't particularly late, just after evening shift change, so the mess would probably be busy. Not somewhere she'd personally want to be after the last couple of days, but he might have sought out company and noise. Not the Infirmary – Amanda would have strict instructions not to let either of them back in for the next twenty four hours. His lab was a possibility – she knew he often went there to think. Another option was the balcony.

She knew she could just call him on the radio, but somehow that just seemed needy and the last thing she wanted was for Carson to see her as clingy. After all, they hadn't even managed a whole date uninterrupted yet.

Sighing, she turned and headed for the mess, deciding she could at least grab a sandwich or something to drink. Once there, she couldn't spot Carson, so she picked up a couple of sandwiches and two cups of tea in insulated mugs. Either she'd find Carson and share with him or she'd just eat it herself. Where next? Balcony or lab was most likely. As the balcony was nearest, she made her way there.

At first she thought he wasn't there either, but then there was a movement in the shadow and she realised he was standing there. She sat down on the bench, opening the plastic sandwich packet with a crunch. She risked a glance across, but he hadn't moved. He had to know he had company though, she was making enough noise.

She finished the sandwich, starting on an apple she'd stashed in one of her jacket pockets. Sure, it wasn't the most flattering garment she'd ever worn, but the pockets were handy and at least she got the grey version instead of the beige. She'd had more than enough beige and khaki to last a lifetime.

"Lots of stars, tonight," Carson remarked, as he sat down on the bench.

"That there are," she replied, pushing the other sandwich packet towards him. He took it automatically, not checking the label. Either he was distracted or he trusted her enough that she'd pick something he liked.

"Roast…something-or-other. Not bad."

"Thought it could do with a bit of mustard, myself, but it fills a corner." Small talk about stars and sandwiches, God, this was bad.

They sat for a few minutes before Tamsin spoke.

"I get the feeling there's a few things you're not telling me," she began.

"I could say the same about you," he countered.

"That look between Ronon and you, then the same look from Colonel Sheppard. He said it wasn't his place to tell me and I had to ask you myself. So I'm asking now – why did Ronon leave and why didn't you just shoot that bloody Wraith?"

Carson stared at his hands for a moment, before meeting her eyes. "Tam, love, you know that the survivors of the Hoffan plague carry a toxin that kills any Wraith that tries to feed on them?"

"Right, that's why Michael created it in the first place."

"Well, I helped him, but that's not my point at the moment. The point is that I carry the toxin as well, so it would've died after a few minutes anyway. You shouldn't have put yourself in danger for me."

"You were just going to let it feed? And when were you going to tell me you're immune to them?"

"Aye, it hurts like a bloody bugger at the time, but it's far more effective than a gun. Well, in my hands anyway." He gave her a shrewd look. "I imagine I would've mentioned it around the time you mentioned you could give Annie Oakley a run for her money."

She scoffed. "Hardly, anyone could've made a kill shot at that range. Besides, it doesn't really fit the skill set for a doctor, does it?"

"Not unless you're required to defend yourself or others in a combat zone. You're ex-military, aren't you? Army or Air Force?"

Okay, he'd worked it out, then. Not that she'd exactly lied to him…just not actually shared the details. Now was the time.

"Royal Army Medical Corps. I did ten years and I don't talk about it much because most people don't understand."

"I'm not most people."

"Does it bother you?"

"After everything I've seen? Not particularly. Does it bother you that I am what am I?"

She eyed him. "Not unless you're about to burst into song. Honestly, no, but I do have questions."

"Then I think we'll be needing more than half-cold tea. I happen to know of a bottle of very good scotch that's almost full."

"Best suggestion I've heard all week. I could do with a proper drink."

Expecting Carson to head towards the bar, Tamsin was surprised when he turned in the opposite direction. It became clear when he approached a transporter, touching the map for a residential section. They were heading for his quarters.

His room was at the far end of the corridor, much like any other. The door slid open as they approached, Carson using his gene to activate it. Tamsin privately admitted to a little envy of the natural carriers – she had been offered the gene therapy, but declined it on the basis it wouldn't particularly benefit her work. Being able to open doors and activate lights with a thought was kind of cool though.

He stood back to let her in, ever the gentleman. She smiled, just another one of his little quirks.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll just find some glasses," he said.

She perched on the edge of the couch, letting herself take in the surroundings, trying to spot any little clues that would give her more of an insight into him. The room was somewhat larger than hers, with a small kitchen area and the Ancient version of French doors. The bed was larger too, covered with what looked like an Athosian designed blanket. She dragged her eyes away, a slight heat in her cheeks. She really shouldn't be thinking about his bed, however much she wanted to. She purposely made herself look at the desk – nothing arousing about that, unless you considered the height … NO! Bad brain, bad brain! She thought.

With a soft cry of triumph, Carson located glasses and scotch in a low cupboard. As he poured a generous measure into each glass, she caught sight of the label.

"Talisker? Very nice."

Carson settled next to her, passing her the tumbler of rich, amber spirits. She gave it a short swirl, then inhaled, closing her eyes.

"Very nice indeed." She opened her eyes, to see Carson giving her a fond look.

"What?"

"I wasn't sure you'd fully appreciate it. But I can see I made the right choice."

She gave a soft snort. "I can assure you I had a fully-rounded education, both in and out of the lecture theatre."

"I'm sure." Carson raised his glass, clinking it with Tamsin's. "Slainte".

"Yeghes da," she replied.

She was sorely tempted to knock back the whisky after the day they'd had, but watching Carson as he savoured that first taste, she thought better of it. This wasn't just about sharing a drink – this was a shift in their relationship, a sense of something deeper. By inviting her to his quarters, Carson was letting her see another side of himself.

"So what made you join the Army, then? It's not an obvious choice for a doctor." Tamsin glanced up at Carson. For all his warmth and charm, sometimes he did just cut to the chase.

She thought for a moment, considering his question. It wasn't an obvious choice for most, certainly. Even Gran had nearly fainted when she had told her of her plans.

"You could say it was the family business, I suppose. Gran was a Red Cross nurse during the war, Mum was a nurse before she got married. Dad was RAF Reserve for a while." She met Carson's direct look. "That wasn't the main reason, though. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do after pre-reg, but things were starting to kick off in the Middle East, and one day, I just had this feeling that was where I needed to be. I signed up, passed the selection board and one tarts and vicars course later, I was a commissioned officer."

"A calling of sorts, then?"

"Not in a religious sense, no. Just a feeling, you know?"

"Aye, I do know. After everything with Michael, I knew I had to be out there, trying to right some of the wrongs I've caused. I still do feel it."

"Tell me," she said, softly.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"I've heard the rumours and the official reports, but I'd like to hear it from you." She paused for a moment. "If you're willing to tell me."

"Aye, alright then." He took a deep breath, as if preparing for something. She wondered if she was expecting too much, asking him to re-visit memories he'd rather forget, but he drained the glass and gave a brisk smile.

"Well then, I'll start at the beginning…"

As she listened, Tamsin felt herself caught up in his story, almost experiencing it first-hand. He told of awakening in a cold, dank lab, to find he was Michael's prisoner and what the hybrid expected him to do. He told of how a young woman was killed in front of him and that others would meet the same fate if he did not continue the research. He spoke of the despair and self-loathing he felt at carrying out live tests and the subsequent painful deaths of the subjects. When he reached the part where he was rescued by Atlantis and his discovery that he wasn't quite who he thought he was, Tamsin couldn't help but reach for his hand.

"Now you know the whole story, what I really am," he said, reaching the end of the story.

She could feel the emotions tumbling inside her, but she shook her head. "Not what, who," she said, trying to convey her feelings.

He gazed back, seemingly unconvinced.

Something released inside her and she darted forward, pushing her lips against his, attempting to show him what she couldn't put into words. He paused for a moment, then responded. The kiss quickly turned hungry, desperate almost, as he drew the tip of his tongue across her lower lip. She willingly let him in, meeting his tongue with her own. She could feel the desire coursing through her, tingling down her spine and settling deep within.

They broke off for a moment, before meeting again, hot and intense, hands stroking, exploring. God, she needed him, wanted him right there. At some point she had kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs under her on the couch. Still locked together, she now rose slightly, lifted one knee and settled into Carson's lap, straddling him. A deep moan escaped his lips and his hands slid to her bum, kneading and caressing, pulling her closer. She could feel just how much he wanted her, it was hard to miss when they were that close. She wriggled a little, teasing, earning a growl from him. He trailed kisses down her neck, drawing a whimper from her as he licked that particular spot on her neck.

She couldn't take it anymore. Her hands moved to the hem of his shirt, tugging at it.

"Wait," he breathed, pulling back, panting.

"What's the matter?" She replied.

"Not like this, not here."

"You don't want me?" She eased back, away from his very obvious erection. She was definitely getting mixed signals now.

"No. I mean, yes, I want you, I really do, but not like this."

She slid off his lap and scooted to the opposite end of the sofa, drawing up her knees in front of her and wrapping her arms around them. "It's ok. I was acting like a complete slut. I'm sorry."

"I didn't exactly say no."

"I think you just did."

He sighed. "Tam, love, I find you incredibly attractive and I care about you a great deal. I'd like our first time together to be something special, not a reaction to a tough situation."

She swallowed around the lump that rose in her throat at his words. Would it really hurt to just be honest with him? "You just have this…effect on me. I can't help myself, sometimes. But I'll try and behave myself for now."

A huge grin spread across his face. "I have an effect, do I? That's good to know."

He leaned close, kissing her with plenty of promise, but Tamsin could tell he was holding back. She returned the kiss, keeping her own feelings in check for once.

"I think I should probably go now. Cold showers all round. Alone." She added the last as Carson's eyebrow rose.

"I should warn you it doesn't always work," he smirked.

He's just as bad as me after all, she thought, immediately shutting down any other thoughts in that direction. "Then I suggest you try running."

He was still smirking, the git. He clearly knew he was winding her up.

"I'm really going now."

"I'll see you soon."

Before he could make another suggestive comment, she waved her hand at the access panel and left the room. She was glad for the dark and deserted corridor – the heat in her face as her imagination ran wild would give her thoughts away to anyone passing. As she entered the transporter and pressed the map for own corridor, she knew she was in far too deep.