Ten days after his run-in with Todd, Carson found himself feeling much more positive about his life. The following morning, he'd set up an appointment with Dr Brouwer, the current civillian psychologist, to go over his concerns. He'd realised Woolsey was likely to insist he do so, so he'd decided to take the bull by the horns and get it over with.
He now stood on the mess hall balcony, enjoying the sunshine and the sound of the waves below. It was nearly mid-winter by the New Lantean calendar, but it felt more like spring to him.
"Doc!"
Carson turned to see Sheppard making his way across the mess with a full tray. He smiled as the colonel joined him.
"Colonel. Lovely morning, isn't it?"
Sheppard stared for a moment, before agreeing. "It is, isn't it?" He paused. "How are you?" he asked, awkwardly. Carson smiled to himself – no matter how long they'd known each other, John still found personal questions uncomfortable.
"I'm all right, actually. I've straightened a few things out," he replied.
"Good. That's…good. Listen, I thought you might like to know – intel came through that Todd's mission was a success. No more cullings from them for a while. Not sure how I feel about Todd possibly getting a leg-over," Sheppard grimaced, clearly regretting his choice of words as he slid his tray onto a nearby table.
"Aye, not a pleasant thought. But it's some relief that perhaps our guests can find more permanent homes now."
"Absolutely. The Coalition have finally stepped up and agreed to set up a relocation programme. Woolsey and Teyla're off to open negotiations this afternoon."
Carson nodded, putting his hands into his pockets. "Will you be joining them?"
"Oh no, I get to stay home and be 'The Man' again." Sheppard grinned and sketched quote marks in the air. "There's a ton of paperwork – the stuff I can't get Lorne to do has finally caught up with me. Someone will have to organise a search party."
Carson laughed. "I'll come and drag you out around lunchtime."
"Wouldn't miss it," Sheppard agreed, picking up his tray. "Catch you later."
"Aye," Carson agreed.
He turned back to the railing, closing his eyes as he leaned against it. Just a few more minutes in the sunshine, he thought, then he'd return to the coalface.
SGA
Negotiations with the Coalition of planets had taken the better part of two weeks, both Teyla and Mr Woolsey growing increasingly frustrated with the lack of concession from certain parties. Teyla had confided in Carson one evening, telling him that the Coalition still seemed to hold the expedition responsible for the whole situation, expecting them to contribute the largest portion of resources. They had been at a stalemate for two days after that, until Ladon Radim of the Genii had graciously offered generous settlement opportunities on their homeworld. Sheppard had reportedly been overheard muttering that there was bound to be an ulterior motive on Radim's part.
Despite the tense politics off-world, the inhabitants of Atlantis had begun to relax now the Wraith cullings appeared to be halted for the time being.
"Mind your backs! Coming through!"
Carson pressed against a wall as half a dozen marines dragged an enormous blue-tinted coniferous tree along the corridor to the mess. The sharp, resinous scent of bruised needles wafted in its wake, triggering a vague sense memory for Carson. He strolled into the mess with a thoughtful smile on his face. The marines were wrestling with the tree in one corner, Radek Zelenka alternately directing operations and cursing when the tree listed from side to side. Shaking his head at the pantomime, Carson spotted Tam seated at one of the window tables. As usual, she was glued to a laptop, a pile of notebooks surrounding her. A twist of disappointment went through him – he'd hoped they could just spend some time together this evening, but it looked as though she was busy again.
"Hullo, love. Had a good day?" he asked brightly, pulling out a chair opposite her.
"I guess." Her eyes flicked to his face, then back to the screen. "You seem happy."
"Oh, I am, I am. I was wondering, have you given any thought to what you want to do for Winterval?"
"Winterval?" she echoed.
"You can't have missed all the preparations?" The pantomime had now turned into a farce, the conifer tree horizontal once again. All it needed was someone to start paraphrasing the Dead Parrot sketch.
"I've been a little bit busy; there are still a lot of people to relocate."
"Aye, I know. But they'll be settled by the big day."
"Possibly. I'm not convinced, myself." She finally glanced over at the festive disaster. "Now you come to mention it, there does seem to be a lot more greenery around." She winced. "So 'Winterval'? Who came up with that?"
"It was the one and only thing that was ever named by Lieutenant Ford. After he went missing, no-one had the heart to change it," Carson said.
She nodded with a sympathetic lift to her lips.
"Anyway, I was hoping you might like to join myself and a select group for the day. We usually just spend some time together, opening presents, a nice meal, that sort of thing. Mr Woolsey will probably make an awkward but well-meaning speech at some point," he went on.
"You're really keen on this, aren't you?"
He smiled. "I've always loved Christmas. Granted, some years have been better than others, but…"
Tam cut in. "Carson, I'm sorry. I'm going to P3X-101 – I'm helping with the re-location programme. If you'd said something sooner, I'd have tried to get the day off."
The disappointment twisted again, but he tried not to let it show – he didn't realise he'd just assumed she would be free.
She reached across the table. Instinctively, he reached out to take her hand. "I promise, the very next thing, I'll make sure I'm available," she said, her eyes offering a silent apology.
"All right," he agreed. It would do, he decided. Absently, he stroked his thumb across her skin. Something's bothering you."
She dropped her gaze to the table, avoiding him. "I just prefer to work over Christmas – it's not the happiest time of year for me. Mum and Dad's car crash happened just before Christmas. I know I told you it was a long time ago, but it's always in the back of my mind."
He could kick himself – it all made perfect sense why she hadn't considered staying on Atlantis for the holiday. He squeezed her hand, trying to convey his own apology. "I understand. How about making some happier memories…you've got family here now."
She smiled gently. "Yes, I suppose I have. Thank you."
SGA
The morning didn't so much as dawn, but slink over Atlantis. A heavy sea-mist covered the lower levels of the city, hiding them from view. As Tamsin gazed out of the window, it seemed as if the towers grew out of a cloud. She glanced back at the bed as Carson snuffled from somewhere under the duvet. He was probably exhausted after last night's particularly enthusiastic welcome home. She stretched her own pleasantly sore muscles, smiling as she remembered him pressing her against the wall, his hands and mouth roaming all over her body. It was unexpected, but she'd been thrilled to discover a more dominant side to him. Perhaps she should go off-world more often. The two weeks she'd spent with the new inhabitants of P3X-101 had been hard work, but ultimately rewarding. They had lost everything in the cullings, but their determination to start over had been humbling.
She picked up the tablet lying next to her on the floor, absently tapping the screen. The email icon blinked, showing three unread messages.
Two from the IOA, one from another personal email, dated three days ago. She tapped that one first.
T
Am okay.
D
Just the two words, but they were enough.
She clicked on the first IOA message. The IOA thanked her for submitting her research proposal, but regretted to inform her that due to budget constraints, they would be unable to proceed with her application. However, they invited her to re-submit her proposal at the next round of fund allocations.
The second email was delighted to inform her of her permanent assignment to the Atlantis Expedition, subject to satisfactory performance review.
She was about to close down the programme, when another message appeared. The sender wasn't one she'd expect – Sheppard, J . What would the colonel be contacting her directly for? She tapped the icon again.
Dr Lucas,
Your personnel records show that you currently exceed the minimum qualifications for off-world travel. Please contact myself or Lt Col. Lorne as soon as possible to discuss temporary assignment to a gate team.
Col. J Sheppard
Joining a gate team - that had never been on the cards. A sick feeling gripped her stomach at the idea.
Her finger hovered – delete the email, pretend she'd never received it? Or just go along and politely refuse?
The duvet rustled, and Carson emerged, hair in tufts and blinking sleepily in the grey light.
"Oh, there y'are. Come back tae bed," he said thickly. The sleepy innocence, a complete contrast to the previous night, shouldn't be so appealing, but she couldn't help it. It was just another one of those inexplicable things about him.
"I was going to go for a run," she said. The pout he gave made her giggle. "But I think I might run off a pier in this fog, so okay."
She smiled and walked back to the bed, sliding under the covers. Carson snaked an arm around her, pulling her close to lie against him. She snuggled up, loving the contact.
"I was thinking. It's Torren birthday next month," he said, lazily stroking a finger along her shoulder.
"Mmm," she replied non-commitally.
"Teyla usually holds a small gathering for her nearest and dearest to celebrate. I'm hoping you'll come along with me."
"Of course, I said I'd go to the next thing that came up."
"You're sure?"
She tipped her head back to look at him. "It'll be odd seeing everyone in a social context, but I made you a promise and I'm sticking to it."
"You'll be among friends, don't worry about that. You've spent time with Teyla and Jennifer outside of work."
"I know, but not the rest of the team. I don't think anyone knows about us."
"That we're a couple? Teyla knows. Would it be that bad to have other people know?"
She half-shrugged. "I suppose not. I just don't want it to change anything."
"Why would it?" he asked.
"Well, it's general knowledge then. Official."
"Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?" he teased.
She poked his shoulder. "Of course not. Just not big on PDAs."
"I can't kiss you in public? What about in private?" he grinned, turning to his side and facing her properly.
"I think that might be okay," she offered with her own smile.
Carson reached out, brushing his fingers over her cheek and into her hair. He bent forward and caught her lips in a sweet, slow kiss. No matter how chaste the contact, she couldn't help the instant pulse of want any time he did that.
"Private is definitely okay," she breathed.
"That's good. So, what else is okay in private?"
"That's going to require a lot more research."
SGA
Tamsin took several deep breaths, focussing on the paper target at the opposite wall. She squeezed the trigger, barely registering the recoil as the round left the chamber. She fired again, aiming for the previous hole. From this distance, it looked like it had hit, but only closer inspection would tell. She fired the remaining thirteen rounds, setting up each shot in the same way – accuracy taking precedent over speed.
She turned away from the targets, intended to reload and burn through another magazine, but a movement near the door caught her attention. Colonel Sheppard slowly eased from where he'd been leaning against a wall, hands in pockets.
"Not bad," he drawled, sauntering over. "You're dropping your left elbow just before you fire, though."
"You're not the first person to mention it. I've been trying to fix it, but it seems to be a habit I can't break."
A hint of surprise crossed Sheppard's face, but he covered it with an easy smile.
"I'm just glad you're better with a pistol than a cup of coffee," he teased.
"Oh god, I thought you'd have forgotten about that," she said, willing herself not to blush with embarrassment. She was a little surprised that he still remembered the incident.
"Hey, it could be worse. Beckett nearly shot my chopper down with a drone before we'd even met."
"I had no idea," she replied. Wow, she'd have to pry that story out of Carson some time.
"S'okay. Number of times he fixed me up, I figure we're more than even."
Sheppard signalled to the airman on duty. The airman pressed a button and the target moved towards them. Sheppard inspected it casually as it stopped.
"Colonel, do you need to use the range, because I can leave you in peace if necessary?" Tamsin began.
"Actually no, I came to speak to you as you're ignoring my emails. I'll be honest, this wasn't the place I expected to find you."
"I'm sorry, I've been very busy." She realised that was becoming her standard response to everyone at the moment.
"Apparently so. Look, I've got five gate teams out of action because of injuries and personnel changes. I need to know if you're willing to cover a spot or not. It'll be a month, two, tops."
Tamsin sighed. "There must be other people who want to join teams?"
"There's plenty of military, but we need more scientists on first contact teams. You're actually the most qualified civilian not already assigned to a gate team. Plus, you're…" Sheppard bobbed his head weirdly and vaguely waved a hand at her.
"I'm… a doctor?" she ventured.
"Right. I was going for doctor. Folks like doctors and god knows we need to win back hearts and minds."
She gave him a sceptical look. "You realise I have no actual combat experience? Being a doctor and all."
"No-one goes out looking for trouble, it just sorta finds us."
"Exactly."
He sighed, folding his arms across his chest. "Look, you've got the book smarts, the people smarts and you can handle yourself. Hell, you took out a Wraith with an M9, which is more than most of the marines could say."
"Not actually a smart move, on reflection. And marines have P90s."
Sheppard's expression softened slightly. "No, but I get why you did it, and loyalty is important in a team member. I can't make it an order…"
"But you want to."
Sheppard said nothing.
"I need some time to think about it."
"Fine, you've got twenty-four hours."
Sheppard turned on his heel and strode out of the range. How was she going to get out of this? It didn't seem like the colonel would take 'no' for an answer. Still, she had a day off planned with Carson tomorrow, so she'd worry about it later.
SGA
The jumper bay was quiet as Tamsin stood looking at her watch. Carson had woken her early that morning with a brief kiss, a big grin and instructions to dress warm and meet him here ten minutes ago.
Carson appeared through the bay door, also dressed in cold-weather gear. Unlike her borrowed Air Force issue kit, Carson's clothing was clearly his own. "Sorry I'm late, I had a couple of things to sort out. Follow me."
She looked at him in puzzlement, but trotted after him into the back of jumper four. He settled into the pilot's seat, running through pre-flight checks as he did so.
"So where are we going?" she inquired.
"We're delivering some supplies to the mainland."
"But it's our day off and don't military usually do milk runs like that?"
"We're doing a favour."
"Why?" she began.
"Just trust me." He smiled and turned back to the controls.
The jumper began to rise, heading towards the open roof as Carson exchanged a few brief words with flight control. With the ocean extending beyond the horizon she had no way to orient herself, and Carson didn't seem inclined to bring up the HUD, so where were they going? Given their attire, it was a pretty good bet they were heading for the colder regions of the planet, possibly above the snow line. She couldn't think what would be there that required supplies, and the unmarked boxes in the back of the jumper gave no clues.
"Don't these things have an entertainment system?" she demanded after twenty minutes of near silence.
"Are you not enjoying my company?" he countered in a neutral tone.
She frowned at him, tempted to childishly stick her tongue out, but he kept his eyes trained on the horizon. He seemed outwardly calm, although his grip on the controls was tighter than she imagined it needed to be. Competent, but not a natural pilot, she'd guess. And yet he'd been the one to race Atlantis through space to rescue Earth from the threat of Wraith invasion.
They flew on for another half an hour, then the shadow of a coastline appeared in the windscreen. Shortly the jumper was passing over land at a great speed. She'd had little chance to experience the true speed and agility of the craft before now, but she had a feeling Carson was flying pretty conservatively. She wondered what it would be like to take a ride with one of the true pilots.
"Not long now," he announced, glancing over for the first time.
Ten minutes later, the jumper reduced altitude and speed, flying over a sharp ridge and banking around to land near a cluster of half a dozen wooden cabins nestled at the foot of a small mountain.
Carson powered down the jumper, then swung around in the pilot's seat. Cold air seeped in as the rear hatch lowered.
"Here we are, then. Grab a box and I'll show you around," he said as he stood up and picked up a box.
Tamsin did as she was told and followed him out into the snow. She took a deep breath of the crisp air, enjoying the sharpness of it at the back of her throat. It really had been too long since she'd been out in the snow.
"Lead on," she said.
They headed in the direction of the largest cabin, which turned out to be set up as a multipurpose lab and work space, minus computers.
"This was all built a couple of years ago. Partly for research, partly for training, but also as a base for R&R," Carson said.
An idea began to form in her mind.
Carson opened a wooden door and clicked a switch just inside. The light revealed racks down either side. A range of skis and snowboards took up one wall, neatly arranged rows of helmets, goggles and safety equipment on the other. And if she wasn't mistaken, there looked to be a crate of ice-climbing equipment on the lowest shelf.
She turned to Carson.
"I realise none of these will be a perfect fit, but you should be able to find something suitable. I just hope you'll make allowances for me being a novice."
She stared at him, brain taking a moment to catch up.
"You're talking about skiing? When…when did you come up with this idea? I didn't know you ski."
"I didn't before I met you, but I asked around and I've been having lessons for a few months. I've wanted to bring you up here for a while. I just didn't want to show myself up."
A knot began to twist in her stomach. "I haven't skied in so long. Is this a good idea? I mean, just the two of us. It's a dangerous sport. What happens if one or both of us gets injured? Have you checked the forecast and the avalanche risk? Is there even a forecast?" she said.
"Do you trust me?" he asked.
"As much as I trust anyone, I suppose."
"Then please believe me when I tell you that I've made all the safety checks that I can. I don't intend for us to be plummeting down any vertical ravines, either. We can save heli-skiing for another time."
"I have done that, once. A long time ago."
"That doesn't surprise me at all," he muttered. "But it's okay if you don't want to do this. I do understand."
He was trying to hide it, but Tamsin could see the disappointment in his face.
What had happened to the daredevil that voluntarily jumped out of aeroplanes and helicopters? She grew up, got a dangerous job and lost a husband in the intervening years. And here was Carson wanting to share something she'd once loved. She'd never allowed another person to control her actions and decisions outside of a direct order, but here she was, using her own fears to try and control him. What gave her the right to think she knew better, after all he'd been through, even if her only intention was to keep him safe?
"Okay. Let's do it," she grinned, decisively pushing her doubts out of mind. At least he hadn't asked her to go rock-climbing.
Acceptance was worth it just for the dazzling smile Carson flashed as he ducked out of the storeroom.
She turned her attention to the racks of skis, inspecting a couple of pairs, before selecting a set that should suit.
"We'll have to hike part of the way, but it's not too far," Carson said as she joined him outside.
Carson and Tamsin headed further up the mountain to the first slope that he'd suggested. The snow stretched ahead, a moderate clear run ahead of them. Not the most exciting, but given that she was out of practise and Carson was a novice, it was a start. And they had it all to themselves.
She clicked into her bindings, sliding a little as she found her balance. She pushed off gently, poles sinking into the pristine snow. It might have been several years, but the feeling was nearly as familiar to her as walking.
As she picked up speed, letting muscle memory take over, she glanced back at Carson. He wasn't going particularly fast, but his technique looked pretty solid and he seemed far more relaxed than she'd expected. Either he'd really put in the hours, or he was a natural.
They made a few runs down the slope, eventually racing each other by the last run. Carson beat her to their arbitrary finish line by mere moments, grinning as he did so.
She pulled up to a precise stop, sorely tempted to spray snow all over him as she did so. She pulled her goggles down, eyeing him.
"I think you're hustling me. You're a lot better than you let on," she grumbled.
"This is the extent of my skills at the moment," he said.
A sly grin spread across her face. "How about a proper challenge?"
"And what did you have in mind? It'll be dark soon."
She scanned the hillside, then pointed.
"Half an hour to hike up to that ridge, over the top and curve back around to camp, ten minutes?" She looked over to Carson. "Okay, maybe twenty minutes as you'll be slower than me."
"Will I now? All right, you're on."
Twenty five minutes later they stood at the crest of the ridge. Tamsin felt herself grinning like a loon, adrenaline pumping. She glanced back at Carson. "Okay, kilt-boy, no mercy."
"Kilt-boy?" he echoed, bemused.
With a whoop she kicked off, ploughing through the fresh powder. She barely heard Carson's 'hold on a minute' as she tore away.
She quickly realised the gradient was steeper than she'd anticipated, the pace faster than she'd wanted, but for once, she decided she didn't care. The reckless adrenaline junkie of old resurfaced, inflating her confidence, fueling her need to be free.
By the time she realised she was heading for an unexpected ridge with no clear view of a landing, it was too late to avoid it. All she could do was aim for the clear snow a good twenty feet ahead and hope to god she didn't fuck up the landing.
She shot out, feeling nothing but air underneath her, instinctively tucking her knees up. As she landed, her left ski wrenched away, pulling her off balance, sending her tumbling and rolling face down into the snow.
SGA
Carson stared at Tam. Kilt-boy? Where had she got that one from? he thought.
Suddenly she burst into motion, streaking away over the snow.
"Hold on!" he called, but she appeared not to hear him. "Bloody hell," he sighed, pushing off after her. His stomach dropped as he felt the snow dip down – this was steeper than anything he'd attempted so far. He stared ahead - Tam was now so far in front he didn't dare match her pace to catch up.
The piste curved around to the left and disappeared behind a large outcropping of sheer rock. Dread rose in his mind as Tam shot out of sight – she was leaving him behind! He pushed on, faster than he was really comfortable with, but desperate not to be on his own out here.
As he rounded the corner, he caught a glimpse of Tam sailing out into thin air and dropping several feet. He watched in horror as she landed – one ski flew loose, and she rolled over and over, coming to a brutal stop face down in a snow bank.
She's dead, he thought with absolute certainty.
Clumsily kicking off his skis, he tripped, pitching forward in his haste. He staggered, but managed not to fall as he sprinted towards Tam, boots kicking up sprays of snow.
As he ran, he spotted her shoulders moving. Wondering if he was imagining it in his desperation, skidding to a halt next to her.
She groaned and rolled over onto her back, starting a coughing fit that seemed to him to go on for minutes, but was probably only seconds.
"God, Tam, I thought…" he began.
"Winded. Not dead yet," she ground out, the cough giving her voice a rough edge. She gave another cough, then pushed herself up to sitting.
"I really thought… Are you hurt anywhere. Did you hit your head?" He reached to take off her helmet, but she batted his hand away, unfastening it herself.
"Don't fuss, I'm okay. I've taken worse falls than that."
"Humour me," he said, giving her his sternest 'don't argue with me' glare.
She rolled her eyes, but let him give her a cursory check. Satisfied she really wasn't injured beyond the likelihood of a few bruises, he helped her get back to her feet. Brushing herself down, she hunted around for her skis and poles, clicking into them again.
"You're intending to ski again?"
"Of course – it'll take ages to walk back down and the light's going," She gestured towards the sky, pole in hand.
Carson followed her gesture – the night was closing in fast.
Sighing, he collected up his own equipment and re-arranged himself. "No racing, okay?"
"No racing," she agreed.
SGA
Later that evening, Tamsin lay staring into the flames that flickered in the cabin's log burner. She glanced down at Carson dozing quietly beside her, his bare shoulders and chest painted in shifting highlights and shadows. The sleeping bag they currently shared covered them, but her own naked skin against his gave subtle confirmation of their mutual state of undress. He was asleep now, but she had little doubt she could wake him with a few well-placed touches.
She'd tried to sleep herself, but rest was elusive, her mind working too much as it always did. They'd returned to the cabin just as night arrived, the light fading away surprisingly quickly. They'd taken turns to shower in the tiny bathroom (thank god for engineers and photo-voltaic panels), then shared a meal in front of the fire. The little conversation they'd exchanged had been light-hearted, but Tamsin had felt something was off with Carson. She'd guess he was still upset with her for the fall, despite him brushing it off. In hindsight, maybe it hadn't been the best idea given his lack of experience and tendency to worry.
When he'd brought out a bottle of sparkling grape juice, "non-alcoholic, sadly," he'd said with a little grin, alarm bells had gone off in her head. To Carson, this was obviously far more than just a skiing trip. He'd poured the juice, then fixed her with that serious look. She'd leaned across, pretending to listen, then kissed him until he'd lost the thread of his conversation. After that clothes had been stripped and instinct had led to an almost inevitable conclusion.
Her attention flicked back to Carson as he stirred, opening his eyes with a yawn.
"Hello," he smiled. "Sorry for falling asleep there, but you've worn me out."
Tamsin shook her head with a tiny smile and a hitch of her shoulder. She laid her head against his shoulder, one hand on his chest. Carson caught her hand with his, twining their fingers together.
After a moment or two, he glanced down at her. "Tam," he began.
Uh-oh, she thought, recognising the tone of his voice. She rose up, pressing her lips to his. He responded, but not as enthusiastically as before, breaking the kiss almost straightaway. She tried again, but he turned away, catching her wrist as she brought her hand up to his jaw to pull him back.
"Tam, stop it," he snapped. "I need you to listen to me for once."
"I do," she replied, somewhat taken aback by his abruptness.
He rolled to face her, slipping his arm around her.
"No, you don't. Not when it's personal."
She opened her mouth to protest, closing it again as she caught his eye. He really did mean business.
"This afternoon, when you fell, I thought for a horrible moment that you were dead. I can't put into words the relief I felt when I saw you move. And even more so when I knew you weren't actually injured. I don't know what I would have done had I lost you."
"We lose people all the time," she muttered, avoiding his look.
"Yes, and I wish we didn't, but it's you I'm talking about. I know it was an accident, but you're more important to me now than anyone else. I arranged all this because I wanted to spend time just with you, away from everything else."
He caught her chin so she couldn't turn away. The intensity in his gaze set guilt tingling over her.
"I'm sorry. You've gone to all this trouble to make this special and I've gone and ruined it as always. I've never really been with anyone that treats me the way you do. You're important to me too. It's…scary. I don't know how to be part of something like that."
"You don't have to be anything other than yourself, that's all I want."
"Are you sure about that? I wasn't even thinking out there. I could have avoided that drop – I just didn't want to." She sighed. How to explain to him what happened? "Sometimes there's a part of me that takes over, like an addiction that I don't even want to control. I can't promise it won't happen again."
"I'm terrified, but I'd rather take a risk than regret not doing anything. Life is all too short."
"I didn't really thank you for today – I haven't felt that kind of freedom in a long time. And I'm sorry I called you kilt-boy, I have no idea why I said that. As far as I know you don't even own a kilt."
"Forgiven, and I can easily get hold of one if you like that sort of thing."
A long forgotten rumour from her university days suddenly jumped into her mind. "Actually, I'm more interested in what's underneath. I've heard there's nothing worn under there."
"Aye, everything's in perfect working order," he growled, skimming his hand down her back and bum, tugging her thigh over his hip.
"Carson! Being a bit forward aren't we?" she squeaked, surprised at the turn of his mood.
"You jumped me, so I think it's only fair I return the gesture."
She shivered as he leant forward with a determined glint in his eye. His lips brushed hers, teasing at first, growing more insistent as the kiss ended. More kisses, lips and clever tongue working together, leaving her short of breath and melting into his touch. Carson trailed his way down her neck, licking just the right spot on her collarbone. She couldn't help the pathetic little whimper when he followed that with a soft nip. He grinned up at her, ridiculously pleased with himself. She took the opportunity to grab his head and kiss him back, pushing her own tongue into his mouth in a truly filthy way that soon had him moaning. With an effort, he caught her hands and pulled back, flushed and panting.
"I do like that, but that's not quite what I planned for tonight," he gasped.
"And what did you have planned?" she smirked.
"I want you to let me take the lead," he said.
"I'm not good at that."
"I know, which is why I want you to just relax and let go."
She laid back, unaccustomed to being passive, but willing to trust Carson. He set to work, trailing delicate kisses, tracing her body with his fingers and lips, steadily working his way down, but avoiding the obvious areas like her breasts. It wasn't overtly arousing, but her skin was hyper-sensitised and tingling. His tongue suddenly flicked over a nipple, the unexpected sensation sending a zing down her spine. He teased and sucked at her breasts for a while, patiently bringing her to a panting mess.
"Carson, please." She didn't know what she was asking for, but whatever it was, she needed more.
"Ssh. I know, but I'm not nearly done yet," he whispered, stroking her stomach, his fingers sliding lower each time. His lips began to follow his fingers down. She froze, tensing up as she realised where he was heading.
"Carson, I don't really like that," she said quietly.
He lifted his head from her stomach, fingers gently stroking her hip. "Do you want me to stop?"
"It's not that I don't want you to do that. It's just…it's never done much for me. No-one was prepared to put enough time in."
"We have all night," he offered.
She smiled softly, a tiny nod offering permission. It would be fun trying, if nothing else.
SGA
A while later she rolled off Carson, sliding down next to him.
"That was fantastic," he murmured, "but I really need to sleep now."
"Me too," she replied.
SGA
Early the following morning, Carson and Tamsin returned to Atlantis. Strong gusts buffeted the jumper as they took off into lowering grey clouds. The journey was nearly as quiet as the previous days', Carson having to concentrate even harder on navigation and controls.
"Colonel Sheppard asked me to join a gate team," Tamsin blurted, apropos of nothing.
The jumper seemed to jerk slightly, but it was probably just her imagination.
"I see," Carson replied levelly.
Several moments slunk past.
"I thought you might have more to say," she pressed.
"What do you want me to say? I don't imagine you want my permission or approval."
He sounded upset, but that wasn't a great surprise, given what he'd admitted last night. "I just thought I should tell you."
"And now you have. When do you start?" he asked.
"I haven't decided if I'm going to do it yet."
"Oh. You've been off-world plenty of times." He glanced at her, curiosity all over his face.
"There's a vast difference between patching up the waifs and strays of the galaxy with a medical team and a platoon of Marines at your back and having three people depend on you to keep them alive when the shit hits the fan. I don't know if I want the responsibility, but I don't have much of a choice."
"Tam, as much as I don't want you to take the risk, I know you're up to the job. It sounds more like you don't want the choice. I'm not going to tell you what to do. You have to decide for yourself, but I'll support you either way."
He might be supportive, but he's not happy, she thought. And she could hardly blame him – if the situation was reversed, would she want him on a first contact team? Of course not, but she'd support him too.
They were approaching Atlantis now, and she'd have to decide – once again, she had to choose between duty and someone she cared about.