Sorry for the delay. The Muse upped and left and had to be lured back with cookies
Four days after leaving Pegasus, Tamsin sat in a hire car crawling along the M4 in a five-mile tailback, somewhere just outside Swindon. She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, increasingly irritated by the inane chatter from the local radio station. The top story of the week seemed to be the splitting up of the latest boy-band du jour. That, and the presenter's ongoing saga about a rain-soaked morning paper. Talk about first-world problems, she thought, searching for another station.
Arriving back at the SGC had been something of an anti-climax – a day of medical checks and debriefing and a stern reminder about non-disclosure and she was free to leave. Her flight from Denver to London Heathrow had been uneventful apart from the nosy grandmotherly-type woman seated across the aisle. She'd shared her own life story, then seemed to expect Tamsin to share hers. An icily polite 'it's classified' from Tamsin had finally shut the woman up, but earned her dirty looks. Fortunately it was an overnight flight and Tamsin zonked soon after. She'd never liked commercial flying, but the two double vodkas in the airport bar had seen to that.
An ambulance streaked past along the hard shoulder as she settled on a classical station and tried not to think too much about the accident. A small part of her brain kept taunting her with a list of likely injuries from a traffic collision.
As she passed the accident around half an hour later, she kept her eyes strictly in front, resolutely telling herself there was nothing she could do. The emergency services had it all under control, but it still felt strange not to be jumping into action. This was supposed to be R&R, after all.
Dusk had fallen by the time Tamsin reached the outskirts of her home town, along with a fine drizzle typical of late October. A brief dash into the local supermarket for provisions had reminded her of the season – piles of garish orange and black decorations, all manner of ghoulish costumes for children and adults alike. If they only knew what was really out there, she had thought.
She now negotiated the narrow tree-lined lane leading to her childhood home.
Tamsin brought the car to a halt on the shingle parking area. She shivered at the damp, pulling up the hood of her waterproof as she climbed out of the car. Several years away had lowered her tolerance for the damp cold of her native country. She collected the shopping bags from the boot, locked the car and hurried down the flagstone path to the heavy front door. She wrestled open the door that would always stick in damp weather and dumped the shopping bags in the hall, before switching on the light. She sat on the bottom step for a moment, absorbing the atmosphere.
Trefenton had always been a retreat for Tamsin. After Gran had died, neither Tamsin nor Drew had been able to face selling the property, so they had agreed to let it as a holiday cottage for tourists and occasional bolt-hole for themselves.
After a few moments she rose from the step, shaking herself a little to dispel memories. She packed away the provisions and decided to start a fire in the wood-burner. The house itself wasn't particularly cold, having foot-thick walls in the oldest parts, but there was always something cheerful about a fire. It reminded her of winter evenings finishing homework after dinner. Mum would be upstairs bathing Drew, Dad and Gran might have been reading or watching television.
Once she'd finished with the stove, she cast about for something to do. It was funny how she'd almost forgotten how to relax. Back on Atlantis, even the SGC, there was either work, the gym or someone around to hang out with. To truly have nothing to do was a strange feeling. In boredom, she switched on the TV. Curling up on the couch, she flicked through the channels, trying to find something as a distraction. Finally finding a costume drama, she settled back.
She found her mind drifting, more memories surfacing. Christmases, birthdays, the day Mum and Dad brought a new-born Drew home from the hospital.
The day her world had fallen apart.
The knock at the door, gran's ashen face and shaking hands as she relayed the news, Drew asking when Mummy and Daddy were coming home. After twenty-five years she could recall the details with clinical detachment and it was only the odd moment of weakness that allowed the pain to rise.
The funeral tea had been tedious, surrounded by pitying looks and mournful adults whispering 'sorry for your loss'. Gran's furious hiss when Tamsin had snapped that Mum and Dad were dead, not lost - apparently that was inappropriate and insensitive. Gran's subsequent slide into depression and Tamsin's increasing responsibilities of keeping the three of them together had put her own feelings on the back burner.
Pulling herself back from memory lane, she tried to focus on the television – the men seemed to be preparing to go off to war, the women weeping.
The longing in the hero's eyes as he said goodbye to his sweetheart just reminded her of saying goodbye to Carson. Four days and she ached to see him again. There was no knowing how long she'd be back on Earth – weeks, months? It was faintly ridiculous how the drama reflected her own life – finding new hope, only for them to be separated by duty and millions of light years. But she and
Carson at least had technology on their side – they could email each other.
She retrieved her personal laptop from its bag in the hall, booting it up as she returned to the couch. She called up the email programme, not really knowing what to say.
Carson,
Well, I've made it back to Bodmin in one piece. The place has barely changed since I was last here, but I don't know, it feels different somehow. I've so many memories of the town and growing up here, but it doesn't feel like home anymore. Maybe it's me that's changed. Something tells me you'd understand a little bit.
You have no idea how much I want to start this email again, but I promised myself I'd try and be more open with you, so I'm going to leave what I've written.
I'm thinking of taking a walk over the moor tomorrow – it always used to help me clear my head when I was younger, I'll send some pictures if they get through the filters.
I miss you and I'm going to sign off now before I get mushy.
See you soon, I hope,
Tam x
She knew Carson wouldn't receive the emails until the weekly data burst to Atlantis, but she decided to send them anyway before receiving a reply. Feeling a little lighter, she settled back to watch the rest of the drama.
A while later, the hero and heroine were re-united and the drama finished with a big wedding and a happy ending. Could she dare to hope that she and Carson might get their own happy ending? And wasn't it too soon to be thinking that anyway? She jumped up from the sofa, then headed for the kitchen, thinking she'd get something to eat.
A couple of minutes later, Tamsin poked at the supermarket ready-meal congealing on the plate. Mum had been a brilliant cook, but it was a skill Tamsin hadn't inherited. Cooking had always been more Drew's thing – something he and mum shared. A memory of Drew perched on a kitchen chair, covered in flour and furiously stirring Christmas pudding mix while mum looked on surfaced. With a pang she realised the memory came from a few short days before the car crash. Maybe coming back hadn't been such a great idea – too many things she'd buried for so long. Perhaps she should have stayed in Colorado.
She sighed and decided to email Drew on the off-chance he wasn't incommunicado. She dashed off a few lines letting him know where she was and asking him to get in touch if he could.
When the computer pinged with an email notification half an hour later, Tamsin told herself it was probably just spam, but opened her laptop anyway, just to make sure.
Hey you,
Bloody hell, where have you been? I know I'm hard to get hold of, but it's like you dropped off the face of the planet. What have the Yanks got you doing?! Okay, I know you can't really tell me, but seriously?
Anyway, can't really tell you what I've been up to either, except to say it was redders*, rained a lot and the sand-flies were the size of bloody hornets. I'm back home now, so I'll see if I can get a pass to visit you before you go back to the States.
Don't be a stranger,
Drew.
Tamsin grinned as she read her brother's message; little did he know that she really had been on another planet. If Drew ever got security clearance, finding out about Atlantis would probably blow his mind. The thought that he'd try and join her was comforting and she finally managed to settle into a film before heading off to bed for an early night.
SGA
"I mean seriously, who thinks that's a good idea? Really, who would do that?"
Carson had lost of track of Rodney's rambling diatribe several minutes ago. He wasn't sure Rodney even realised he was still there; all Rodney's attention seemed focussed on his daughter, who waved her arms and frowned almost on cue. Carson smiled to himself – here sat the man who'd professed to hate children now transformed into a doting father. His ears pricked – that might have been a Russian phrase, but Carson was almost certain it wasn't on the list of appropriate words.
"I thought Jennifer banned you from using that kind of language around Lily?" Carson teased.
"She's three months old – it's just sounds to her, even with her intelligence." Lily chose that moment to wave a chubby arm and catch Rodney on the nose with her fist. His peeved look sent the baby into a fit of giggles.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Carson smirked, finding it hard not to chuckle at the comedy routine playing out before him.
"This a private party or can anyone join?" Carson glanced over his shoulder as Sheppard approached the table holding a tray. Ronon and Teyla flanked him, each holding their own trays.
Not waiting for an invitation, Ronon flopped into a chair, nodded at Carson and dug into his pile of food. Teyla settled into the fourth chair, greeting Carson and Rodney with a smile. Sheppard pointedly placed his tray on the table and stalked over to another table to grab a chair. As he sat down, Ronon gave him a huge grin, to which Sheppard mock-glared back.
"So Doc, you're travelling again?" Sheppard asked, then took a sip of coffee.
"Aye, Uldea this time," Carson replied.
"Round houses, bows and arrows?"
Rodney broke in, snapping his free fingers. "That's the one with the rocks that interfere with the radios, right?" He frowned. "They eat a lot of goat, too."
"The goat's good. You should try it, McKay," Ronon smirked.
"I'll pass, thank you." Rodney shot a sour look towards his teammate.
"Will you be away for long, Carson?" Teyla asked, turning to him.
"Aye, a couple of weeks. I've nothing pressing to keep me in Atlantis at the moment," he replied, his tone a little wistful.
Teyla glanced at him, a fleeting hint of concern in her expression. He kicked himself mentally, he'd not intended to let that out. She smiled softly, suggesting she'd understood, but chose not to comment.
A minor squabble broke out as Ronon tried to steal food from Rodney's tray. Rodney's attempt to defend his breakfast was hampered by only having one arm free, the other clutching his daughter.
Carson tucked into his own food, content to let the team dynamics play out around him. They might not go out on as many missions as they once did, but the four were just as much of a team, a family, as they always were and by extension, he was part of that family. A tiny part of him couldn't help a slight feeling that more than one person was missing, but he pushed it away. Leaving was hard enough, even knowing he had this to come back to.
SGA
Later that day, Carson strolled along a dirt track flanked by trees in full, bright green leaf. The sun beamed and a light breeze ruffled the grass and foliage around him. Although other teams from Atlantis had visited the planet since Lorne's first contact, this was Carson's first visit. He glanced into the trees. Relations between the two parties were stable, but Carson knew the locals kept a watch on the 'gate night and day. He just hoped they would recognise him as a friend – he'd have no chance if they decided to ambush him. Still, he was easily half a mile from the 'gate by now and there'd been no sign of any sentries. He decided to look on the bright side and enjoy the sunshine – it wasn't often he got to appreciate such a simple pleasure.
As he walked, he thought how much Tamsin would enjoy this. With a prickle of guilt, he realised he should have e-mailed her before leaving Atlantis. He couldn't imagine her sat by a computer waiting for a message, she was far too independent for that, but he hoped she'd at least want to hear from him. He'd mentioned he'd be off-world, but he didn't really want her to be disappointed if she didn't hear from him. And if he was honest, he hoped he'd find something from her on his return.
Carson reached the village an hour or so later. There appeared to be a small welcoming party at the edge of the settlement – one of the hidden sentries must have run on ahead to inform them of his arrival. As he approached, the woman stepped forward. With her distinctive red hair and stately bearing, he realised this must be Vinda. From what he knew of their politics, Vinda seemed to be almost the equivalent of a queen mother – a leader in all but name, due to the fact she was a woman.
"Dr. Beckett, you are most welcome," she called as he reached the group. "Although I am happy to say that we have little need of your services at this time."
"Thank you, and actually I'm glad to hear that," Carson replied, halting in front of her.
Vinda looked confused.
"Of course I'm here to help people, but it's even better if people don't get sick in the first place," he explained.
She smiled slightly. "I see. I hadn't thought of it that way. Hopefully you can help us to remain healthy." She gestured towards the village. "It is nearly time for our mid-day meal, I hope you will join us?"
"Aye, I'd be delighted."
They made their way into the village to a large, thatched hut that seemed to be a meeting hall-cum-social space. It was dim inside, the only light filtering in from narrow slits near the eaves of the roof. Several communal tables were placed around the room, people already wedged in place on benches. A number of them attempted to stand as Vinda entered the room, but she excused them with a gracious nod of her head as she strode towards a raised platform at the back of the hall and took the smaller of two throne like seats behind a narrow table. Carson hung back slightly, unsure if he should follow her, but she nodded at the plain chair to her left. Once he was seated, servers appeared as if from nowhere and the meal was in full swing. The food was simple, but plentiful and it appeared no-one went hungry.
As they ate, Vinda explained that the majority of the community would be leaving in the morning to attend their summer gathering in the main city a day's journey away.
"I think you will find many patients if you wish to join us at the gathering. Unfortunately, not all the people of this world are as healthy and prosperous as mine." A slight shadow passed across her features, but before Carson could speak, she smiled briskly and carried on, "But let us speak of other things, today is an important day."
She went on to tell him more about the gathering and their celebration of community and productivity. Carson listened, nodding in the right places and asking polite questions, but his mind kept turning over her words. Was there more to these people than met the eye? And just what had he wandered into this time?
SGA
By the end of the week, Tamsin had grown thoroughly bored of her own company and was itching to get back to work. Even walking the moors and coastal paths had left her with too much space and time to think. Against her better judgement she had visited the tourist trap of Tintagel castle, supposed birthplace of King Arthur, once and future king of Britain. The fact that the castle had been built nearly four hundred years after his birth didn't deter the hordes of summer visitors, but a blustery late autumn day meant the place was nearly deserted. She'd leant on a railing, eyes closed and for a moment she could almost convince herself she was back on Atlantis. A gaggle of Japanese students chattering and waving mobile phones on selfie-sticks had broken the spell.
Around lunchtime on the Saturday, Tamsin sat checking her secure email. There was a short message from Dusty, one from Dr Lam confirming Tamsin's return to the SGC the following Monday, and another from the Atlantis botany department letting her know they finally had some samples of oleiris roots and did she still want the results of the chemical analysis? There was nothing from Carson, though she told herself sternly she wasn't expecting anything.
A key scraped in the lock and the front door creaked open.
"Hello? Anyone home?" Her heart leapt as a familiar voice hollered from the hall.
"Drew, you made it!"
"I did. Do I get a hug?" he grinned, striding through the living room door.
Tamsin pushed her computer aside and stood as Drew pulled her into a bear hug, lifting her off her feet.
"Put me down before you drop me, you idiot," she protested, smacking his shoulder.
"I can dead-lift heavier than you," he retorted, but set her back on the ground.
"Idiot. How are you, though?"
"I'm all right, been busy, you know how it is. Got anything to eat?" Not waiting for a reply, Drew turned and walked into the kitchen, Tamsin trailing behind. He rifled through cupboards, then went to the fridge.
"Still can't cook, then?" he teased, slightly muffled by the fridge. He emerged, unscrewing the lid from a carton of milk before taking a swig.
"Still disgusting, then?" She crossed her arms and leaned against the worktop. Drew stuck his tongue out at her and took another gulp. She couldn't help her smirk – it just reminded her of a much younger Drew. They'd be reverting to name-calling next. "I knew I should have gone shopping again. There's some bread in the bin," she said.
"Magic." He rubbed his hands together and set about assembling a sandwich. "Want one?"
Tamsin shook her head. Drew shrugged. "More for me, then."
He shoved one large slice in his mouth, grasping the other in a paw. He ambled through to the living room, leaving a small scene of devastation on the worktop. She tidied up, considered taking Drew a plate, but knew the sandwiches would probably be gone by the time she joined him.
By the time she returned to the living room, Drew sprawled on the sofa apparently engrossed in the tail-end of a football match, the sandwiches reduced to nothing but a memory. He looked as though he'd taken root and little short of an earthquake would move him. She'd never seen him in action in the field, of course, but it was hard to imagine this happy-go-lucky, perpetual teenager as a focussed, collected medic caring for injured marines behind enemy lines. Or indeed handling a rifle when the midden really hit the windmill.
"So, couldn't stay away from the military life?" he asked, glancing away from the screen.
Tamsin shrugged. "Well, you know me."
"Yeah, I do. NORAD doesn't exactly seem like your speed."
"A staff position came up. My post in Nairobi was ending; I fancied the mountains for a change."
Drew sighed. "I'm not stupid, I can guess it's something else. Why would NORAD need trauma surgeons?" He held up a hand. "Just tell me honestly you're safe and happy and I'll drop it."
She considered her reply for a moment, gazing at the carpet. "Safe? No, not really. Happy? I will be when I get back on base." She met his eyes, and lowered her voice. "I'd tell you if I could."
Drew gave her a long look. "That's the best I'll get, I suppose. Just … look after yourself, yeah?"
"What is it with blokes trying to take care of me," she muttered to herself. "Don't worry about me, I'm a big girl."
He nodded, but Tamsin was pretty sure the subject wasn't entirely closed. "So, pub tonight - my treat?" he asked.
"Okay, it's on me though. I've a ton of back pay to use up."
"You can't have got through the house money already? That'll really piss off the monster-in-law." Drew smirked.
Tamsin felt a twist of anger in her stomach at Drew's teasing.
"I've never touched that money and you know it," she hissed, glaring at her brother.
Shock registered on his face as he held up both hands in submission. "Woah, steady on. Sore point still, I get it. Won't mention her ladyship again."
"Drew, back off, right now."
"Backing off." Drew eased up from the sofa, hands still raised, as if he was trying not to startle a wild animal. "I'll just go and unpack, give you some space."
"You do that," she replied tightly, staring out of the window as Drew crept out of the room.
She let out a breath as she heard his heavy tread going upstairs and to the back bedroom. She really shouldn't have let Drew push her buttons so much. And him mentioning the proceeds from the sale of the house she and Rob had shared shouldn't still hurt that much. She didn't imagine she would ever dip into the money – she doubted it would ever feel right to use it. Tamsin knew Rob's mother Caroline had never liked her. The woman had never said anything directly, but Tamsin had always got the impression Caroline thought she wasn't good enough for her only son. A twisted bit of logic told her that using the money would prove Caroline right – that Tamsin had just been a gold-digger all along.
Tamsin knew she had loved Rob deeply, but sometimes she wondered if he'd proposed just to spite his family, instead of doing what was expected of him.
SGA
It was nearly dark by the time Tamsin and Drew reached the pub that evening. The wind had risen again, pulling leaves from the trees and blowing drizzle into their faces. They'd apologised to each other, and they now joked and laughed as if they'd never argued in the first place.
A muffled electronic version of Wagner's 'Ride of the Valkyries' cut through the rush of the wind, and for a moment Tamsin couldn't work out what it was, then she realised it was Drew's mobile phone. She'd clearly spent too long in Pegasus.
Drew pulled the phone out of his pocket and glanced at the number with a small frown. "It's work, I need to take it, sorry. You go in."
Tamsin nodded and pushed open the door into the bar. If this had been a tavern in Pegasus, in all probability conversation would have stopped and all heads would have turned to stare at the new comer. As it was in fact, a small English pub gearing up for the Saturday evening rush, no-one paid her any attention whatsoever. It was mildly disappointing.
She approached the bar.
"Evenin'. What can I get you?"
"A pint of cider and a pint of ale, please."
She bit her tongue at the bartender's raised eyebrow – he clearly wasn't used to women drinking pints. She paid for the drinks and found a table in a corner, angling the chair so she could see most of the room. She took a sip from her pint, trying to adopt a relaxed air, but finding herself scoping out her surroundings. Old habits were hard to break. She wondered what was taking Drew so long.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted one of the men from the far table approaching her. She glanced down, hoping he was just heading for the toilets.
"All right, love? What's a nice girl like you doing a place like this?" The accent was pure Cornwall, and judging by the thickness, that wasn't his first drink.
"Having a drink?" she replied, letting a hint of sarcasm into her tone.
"Oh you're funny, I like you." He plopped into the chair opposite, some of his pint spilling onto his grey sweatshirt. He slurped from the glass, then crashed it down on the table. He stuck out a hand. "Name's Gary, pleased to meet ya."
"Nice to meet you," she murmured, not taking the paw. Gary looked confused for a moment, then burped and grabbed his pint again. "Scuse me. Not in front of a lady, eh?"
Tamsin hid her snort with a mouthful of ale.
"Me 'n the lads could do with a bit o' company, why don't you join us?" Gary waved a hand in the general direction of his table. The 'lads' were similarly dressed in sportswear and Tamsin would bet good money none of them were under fifty.
"No, thank you." She tried to decline politely. He seemed friendly enough, but you could never be sure.
"Ah, come on, no need to be a billy-no-mates."
"I'm waiting for my brother." She knew she'd sounded curt, but he really wasn't getting the message.
"Oh thank god, 'cause you'd have broken my poor heart if you'd said 'boyfriend'." Gary dramatically clutched somewhere in the region of his left shoulder. Either he wasn't too hot on anatomy or his co-ordination was off. Probably both.
"That's the clavicular head of the pectoralis muscle. Your heart's lower down." Shut up, Lucas, don't feed the troll, she told herself. She could rarely stop herself correcting a medical inaccuracy – it was a habit she needed to break.
"Really? Never 'eard of it." Gary glanced at her. "Are you a doctor or something?"
"Surgeon, actually."
"Wow, good for you. Brainy and funny, my kind of girl." He leaned forward, leering slightly. "Listen, I don't 'spose you fancy going back to my place…"
"I'm already seeing someone, so no, thank you." Jesus, would you just bugger off already?
"Everything all right, sis?"
Tamsin turned in relief as Drew appeared at her shoulder. She hadn't heard him come in, but he now loomed over the table, and Gary seemed to finally be reconsidering his position.
She smiled at her brother. "Everything's fine, Drew. Gary was just going back to his friends, weren't you?"
"Um, yeah, right." Gary grabbed his nearly empty glass, weaving slightly as he stood up and wandered back to his table.
"Was he bothering you?" Drew asked as he slid into the chair.
"Mostly harmless, just drunk. Nothing I can't handle."
Drew lifted his pint, swallowing nearly half in one go. "Gah, needed that."
"Work okay?"
"Yeah, just one of the lads'd rather ring me than talk to the base MA. Nothing major. So you're seeing someone? Do tell." He leaned forward, adopting a campy tone at his last two words.
She rolled her eyes. "You're such a gossip Drew. Yes, I'm seeing someone, ok?"
"Come on, I need details. Name? Civvy? Military? Is it serious?"
"His name is Carson, he's a civvy doctor and researcher."
Drew made a 'come on' gesture.
She paused for a moment, thinking of Carson. "He's brilliant at what he does, kind, clever, funny. A gentleman."
"Do you love him?"
She caught Drew's eye as he grinned at her and felt her cheeks heat in embarrassment. He'd completely called her on her feelings.
"Drew!"
"Well, do you?"
"I don't know. Maybe … It's early days," she said softly, picking at a beer mat.
Drew grasped her hand, stilling her fingers with his. "You're allowed to move on, you know. Maybe this is another chance?" he said, equally softly.
"I want to. It's just…"
"I get it. Just try not to break this one."
"That's not funny, Drew." She squirmed, but had to privately admit a hint of amusement at his gallows humour. God knew she'd had enough experience of it.
Drew squeezed her hand, then leaned back in his seat. "Are we eating tonight? I'm famished."
"You're always hungry. Don't they feed you on base?"
"Hollow legs," he grinned.
"Hollow head, more like," she replied, shaking her head in amusement. "The menus are on the bar."
Drew heaved himself off his chair and loped over to the bar.
She watched him go, wondering why he always had to hit the nail right on the head. If there was one thing she was terrified of, it was that bad things seemed to happen to the people she cared about.
SGA
The evening went on, Drew spinning a few yarns about his oppos*. If he noticed he was doing most of the talking, he didn't let on. The pub grew increasingly busy, Gary and his table increasingly loud and raucous. Though they seemed good-natured, they drew a few glares and tuts from others simply trying to enjoy a quiet meal. The bartender eventually asked them to leave and they did so after a few half-hearted protests. Tamsin was about ready to go home, but an unspoken agreement between her and Drew saw them waiting a while in the hope that the drunken group would have shuffled off.
"Taxi?" Drew asked.
"It's only a mile. Afraid you won't keep up?" Tamsin grinned.
"Come on, then."
They had barely left the car park when there was a scuffle and a familiar figure emerged from the shadows.
"All right love, off home? Offer still stands."
"Stop hassling my sister and sod off, will you? She said no," Drew growled.
"You sod off." Gary attempted to sling his arm around Tamsin's shoulders, but she side-stepped and all he got was air.
"Gaz, are you coming?" one of his mates called from up the road.
"Yeah, catch you up mate." Gary belched and staggered up to Tamsin. "Come on, love, you know you want me."
She couldn't help a grimace – he reeked of alcohol and all she wanted from him was the sight of him leaving.
"Look, I told you I'm not interested. Leave me alone. Come on Drew," she snapped.
She turned away, but the next thing she knew he'd caught her wrist and was trying to pull her towards him, no doubt to cop a feel. Even drunk his grip was surprisingly strong, and she knew she'd have bruises if she struggled. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Drew gearing up for a punch.
"Drew, leave it. I'm okay. Gary, you don't want to do this."
"Don't I?" he slurred.
"I can and will use force if I have to." Tamsin tried to keep her voice level, but she got the overwhelming sense he was about to kick off.
He yanked at her wrist and she lost her balance slightly. "Stuck-up cow."
Almost before she knew what she was doing, anger shot through Tamsin. She stepped towards Gary, stamped on his foot, kneed him in the groin and twisted away as his grip loosened.
"Fucking bitch," he snarled and lunged, grabbing for her again. She ducked, the momentum carrying him forward and his own bodyweight and a shove from Tamsin sending him sprawling on the tarmac with a howl of pain. He rolled on his back, fingers touching his lip. Even in the subdued pub lighting, Tamsin could see the blood, but for once she felt little sympathy.
"I warned you. No means no," she spat, glaring at the man on the ground.
"Bitch," he repeated, but he wisely stayed down.
She would have landed a punch, but she felt Drew's hand at her elbow. He pulled gently.
"Come on, Tam, he's not worth it."
She shot another glare at Gary, but allowed Drew to put his arm around her shoulders.
"Forget I said I was worried about you," he said as they headed back up the lane for home.
SGA
Carson woke at first light the next day. From the sounds outside the small hut he'd been given, the rest of the village had been awake for some time. He dressed quickly and peered blearily out of the hut door. As he'd thought, many of the villagers were bustling around loaded with packs, and they all seemed to be heading towards the centre of the settlement. He wondered if they had already started their journey and hoped he hadn't missed his ride.
A young man driving a small trap pulled by a llama-like creature called out as he passed the hut. "Doctor, you'd best hurry along to the hall if you want breakfast, we'll be leaving before the sun rises much further."
"Aye, thank you for the warning," Carson replied, exiting the hut and closing the door behind him.
When he reached the hall, it was much quieter than the previous day, with a self-serve selection of fruits, bread and cheeses set on the trestle table. It almost reminded him of the small table in the mess back on Atlantis that always held sandwiches, fruit and coffee, day or night.
He helped himself to a plate and ate quickly, anxious not to be the cause of any delay. A short while later a blond boy of around nine or ten scampered into the hall, skidding to a stop next to Carson.
"What is it, son?"
"Doctor Beckett, Lady Vinda says you're to come now, we're about to leave for the city."
Carson followed the boy to Vinda's home where she sat on a cart hitched to another pair of not-llamas.
"Doctor Beckett, I thought you might have changed your mind. If you'll join me, we can be on our way." One of the not-llamas stamped a hoof and turned to glare at him. Hastily, he heaved himself onto the wooden seat. He wouldn't take the chance these creatures could spit like their Earth equivalents.
"I'll need my things."
"I sent someone to collect your bags, they are under that cover." Vinda smiled and gestured behind her with a shoulder.
Carson lifted the rough-woven fabric and was relieved to see his bag and cases. Vinda chirruped and flicked the reins and the cart jerked and bumped as they set off. They rolled out of the village at a brisk pace, joining other carts heading along an earthen track. Last night's rain shower had damped the track down, but he could imagine it was dusty in high summer.
For the most part, the journey was quiet, only the odd call of unfamiliar birds, the soft thump of the not-llamas' hooves on the track and wind in the trees. Vinda spoke occasionally, offering a point of information here and there, but he was largely left to his thoughts.
The sun rose steadily as they travelled on. With each passing mile, Carson was aware of the growing distance between himself and the Stargate. Though he'd spent so much time on other planets, he couldn't help a slight apprehension as the gate drew further away. He'd really be on his own in case of problems.
They stopped near a fast-flowing river around midday to rest the pack animals. Carson was grateful for the chance to stretch his legs. The wooden cart bench was far from comfortable.
After the brief stop, they continued on towards the town. As they got closer to the city, more people joined the road, the air thick with voices and the screams of children. The road took a sharp bend to the left and the trees began to thin, revealing a large town nestling between a lake and distant hills.
Eventually they reached the edge of the city. Vinda guided the cart to an area that seemed to be set aside for housing animals and vehicles of all kinds. Vinda explained that most of the streets were too narrow for vehicles except those needed for specific work there. Carson smiled a little to himself, it was hard to imagine anywhere in Pegasus having traffic restrictions.
He gazed around taking in the atmosphere of the place. It was noisy, smelly and crowded, but there was a vibrancy and energy to the place that was sadly lacking on all too many of the worlds he'd visited.
His attention turned to a group of people that approached Vinda. She seemed to know them well and exchanged smiles and boisterous greetings with them. After a while, she turned to Carson.
"Dr Beckett, I have duties to attend to before the festival tomorrow. I imagine you will wish to meet with the healer here?"
"Aye, I'd best introduce myself and offer my services."
Vinda nodded. "Very well. Follow the street directly in front of us until you reach the central market square. Ask at the tavern and they will direct you to his home. I hope to see you tomorrow. Goodbye for now."
The group set off around the edge of the buildings, leaving Carson alone. For someone in such a high position, Vinda seemed to travel with little to no protection. He could only imagine she was either supremely confident of her own safety or her security detail was of the discrete and utterly deadly type. Not sure which worried him more, Carson grabbed his cases from the back of the cart and headed in the direction Vinda had indicated.
SGA
Carson arrived at the healer's home around three-quarters of an hour after Vinda had left him. Though the house wasn't far from the centre, it was hidden away down a side alley and it took two wrong turns before he found it. There was little to distinguish it from the other buildings beyond the long line of people waiting outside. The door jerked open and a middle-aged woman stepped out clutching a pale-looking child of around three or four years of age.
"Next!" A slightly creaky voice called from the depths. Carson slipped in behind the next patient just before the door closed, ignoring the grumbling from the rest of the queue.
A figure hunched over a desk, scribbling on what looked like parchment. "Sit down, I will be with you shortly."
The man who'd actually intended to visit the healer glanced at Carson suspiciously. "You don't look ill," he accused.
"Oh, I'm not. I'm a doctor – I'm here to help out."
The healer turned stiffly from the desk to regard Carson. "Ah, you'd be Dr. Beckett of Atlantis, then. Vinda sent me a message to say you'd be coming. I am Trennus." Though Trennus was seventy if he was a day, his eyes were bright and keen.
"Aye, that's me and it's good to meet you," Carson replied.
Trennus chuckled. "You might change your mind about that. Now, let me see to young Andoc here and then I'll take you through my practice."
"There's a number of people waiting outside." Carson gestured in the direction of the door with one his cases.
"There always is, my friend," Trennus sighed ruefully and set to treating the young man.
Carson observed as Andoc showed Trennus a burn on his forearm. It looked to be healing well, and Carson was surprised when Trennus told him that the injury had happened only three days ago. Trennus brought out an ointment that stank to high heaven, but seemed to be highly effective as the treatment had begun just hours after the initial injury. Carson hoped that Trennus would be willing to share the ingredients for that salve – it could prove useful to both Atlantis and their allies. Carson smiled a little as he imagined Tamsin's reaction if she ever got to see the ointment herself.
Trennus worked through the line of people as afternoon wore into early evening. Some he could not help, and though Carson offered to help, most refused, suspicious of this stranger from the so-called city of the Ancients. It was clear that healthcare here was rudimentary at best.
Feeling rather useless by the time the last patient had been seen, Carson wondered if he might be better off returning to Atlantis – he wasn't sure if these people even wanted his help.
Trennus peered out of the door, then shut and ambled back to his desk. "That's it for today, I think. Would you like tea?"
Before Carson could accept or decline, the healer turned to a kettle set on a stove in the corner of the room. He poured a measure into two earthenware type cups and returned to the desk, passing a cup to Carson and taking a deep drink of his own. Carson had to stifle a cough at the rather potent brew – it could rival any of Teyla's less successful efforts. He wondered how he could avoid drinking it without seeming impolite.
Trennus sighed and glanced at Carson. "A healer's lot is not an easy one, is it Dr. Beckett?"
"Some days are better than others, I'll grant you," Carson agreed.
"I do try, but there's only so much I can do for people. More often than not, they're beyond help when I see them. Many people are distrustful of a healer for that reason." Trennus frowned, a deep line creasing his forehead and an air of frustration radiating from him.
"But you saw several people today?"
"They are what you might call more open-minded." Trennus snorted. "That, or they are desperate."
"Atlantis could help – we have advanced medicines, treatments."
Trennus nodded. "I know - Vinda has told me of your people's technology. I hope over time that we can work together and convince people to take better care of themselves. Unfortunately, there aren't many healers on this world and no formal training. I learnt from my grandmother."
Carson was about to ask Trennus to elaborate, but there came a hammering at the door and a teenage girl burst into the space, eyes wild and panting as if she'd run some distance.
"Healer, it's Father, he is getting worse."
Trennus shook his head. "Coria, I am sorry, you know I have done all I can for him. I can't risk visiting you again."
"But you must, he will … die," she pleaded, trying to hold back tears.
Carson stepped in, gently grasping her shoulders. "It's all right, love. I might be able to help. What are his symptoms?"
Coria stared at him, not understanding his question.
"I'm sorry, I mean what's he doing? Coughing, pain?"
The girl nodded. "He has a horrible cough and says it is difficult to breathe. Do you think you can help him?" There was a hint of hope in her voice.
"I'll do my best, but I'll need to see him first."
Trennus shook his head with an anxious expression. "Doctor Beckett, I understand your wish to help, but you take a great risk if you do so."
"And why's that? Surely patients are the most important thing?" Carson demanded.
"Mato would have my head if I'm caught, I can't leave the rest of the people without a healer."
Mato. Carson thought the name sounded familiar, but couldn't place it for the time being. Whoever this Mato character was, he couldn't be good news if he'd execute a healer for doing their job. Still, Carson knew there was a chance advanced medicine might work where herbs couldn't. And hadn't he taken an oath to value life wherever possible?
"Well I'm not going to stand by if I can do something." He turned back to Coria. "Can you take me to your father?"
She nodded and scurried towards the door, pointing into the dusk. "It's this way."
Carson followed Coria towards the far edge of the city near the lake. Trennus's house hadn't exactly been a 'des res', but this was clearly a seedier part of town. A brackish smell drifted from the water and what looked like a tide mark on some of the buildings suggested the area often flooded. The hut Coria guided him to was tiny, dim and dank. A heap of threadbare blankets contained a man maybe in his early forties, but his pale, drawn face made him look older. He coughed weakly and held a hand out to his daughter.
"Coria, who's this?" he rasped and even that short sentence seemed to rob him of breath.
"He's a healer, he thinks he can help you."
"Trennus could not."
Coria glanced back at Carson, then to her father. "He has Ancient medicine, Father."
"Oh well, I'm cured then, aren't I?" He slumped back on his makeshift bed, seemingly resigned to his fate. Carson took that as acceptance and began to examine the man. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Carson quickly realised Coria's father had all the symptoms of the Hoffan plague.
He barely had time to register the implications before there was a crash and the door of the hut flew open, nearly falling off its near rotten hinges. A burly man stepped in, armed with a deadly-looking bow and arrow. He looked ready to strike, but hung back as close to the entrance as he could.
A second, even larger, man loomed in and grabbed Coria by the arm. She squealed and tried to twist away, but he tightened his grip as she burst into tears.
"You will come with us," he barked.
"Excuse me? I'm trying to examine and help this man. He's very sick."
"I know, and he'll be dealt with."
The man shoved Coria into the street, then hauled Carson to his feet.
"Now hang on a minute, I'm just doing my job," he protested as he was dragged after Coria.
"You can explain yourself to Mato."
The man roughly bound Carson's wrists behind him and nodded at a third guard. This one was also equipped with a bow and arrow which he waved menacingly in Coria's direction.
"Walk!"
For now, Carson knew he'd have to do as ordered. Fear and anger roiled in him – not only did it look like he'd have to argue for his own freedom and possibly his life, but it seemed he'd become responsible for two more. As he trudged back along the alley, the Stargate seemed a galaxy away.
Royal Marines slang
Redders – Hot
Oppo – Best mate
MA- Medical Assistant