Moments
by Jennamajig
SUMMARY: It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment it began.
SEASON/SPOILERS: Set S2. Slight spoilers/mentions for Poisoning the Well, Seige III, Intruder.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Stargate: Atlantis or anything associated with it. I'm simply borrowing, but I promise to return all in one piece. Eventually.
It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment it
began. Oh, sure, he could recall the second the physical stuff
started. The first kiss was a dead giveaway and the wicked smile
that followed definitely started the ball rolling into the hot
and heavy territory.
But 'it' was far more complicated and seemed an almost
mathematical impossibility to isolate.
Therefore, John resigned himself to never knowing. It was
probably more important remembering that he now loved a certain
blue-eyed doctor, rather than the moment in which his infatuation
began.
"The Daedalus brought mail. There's a package from your
mom." John held the medium sized brown parcel in the air
with both hands and shook it. "Hmm...doesn't sound like
food."
"Don't do that! It could be fragile," Carson said,
grabbing the package from John's hands, but flashing him a small
smile to show he wasn't angry.
"Whatever it is, I hope you know you're sharing it."
Carson's grin widened. "What if it's something you don't
like. What if it's haggis?"
"Hey! I didn't say I didn't like it. I just..." he
trailed off.
"Didn't like it," Carson finished with a laugh.
"It's okay, you know. Mum wasn't offended."
"I ate dessert," John defended. "Lots of it.
Besides, I highly doubt it's haggis in there. Somehow I'm not
thinking that stuff has an intergalactic travel shelf life."
"I'm not going to comment on that, I think."
"Good. Now just open the damn package. You're killing me
here!" He pointed to the box.
Carson raised an eyebrow. "Why, John, you'd think your mum
sent it the way your eyes are gleaming."
John met his gaze. His mother was tucked away in a nursing room,
staring at the garden outside her window. She remembered she had
a son, remembered his name was John, but every time he saw her
there was no recognition in her eyes. Her John was still in his
twenties, not approaching forty faster than he'd thought. Her
John was another person in another lifetime, just like his mother
was a different woman in a different time.
Carson knew about his mother. Carson was the only one, because
Carson met her. John had wanted to stop by. Carson pried and
normally John didn't like someone pushing his way into his life,
his privacy, like that, but Carson was different.
Which of course, brought him back to his original thought. Carson
hadn't always been different and he wasn't sure when that had
happened.
Carson's blue eyes meet his and John could see sympathy in them.
"Sorry, luv," he said softly. "Let's open it
then." No more was said, but no more needed to be said.
John watched Carson tear into the brown packaging and open the
cardboard box underneath. Inside were a few letters and some
scattered trinkets. At the very bottom were a small empty
planter, some potting soil and a package of seeds. Carson lifted
the items out, put then down, and then picked up the seeds.
"They have your name on them," he said and offered them
out to John.
John frown a moment, but told them. "Why would you mother
send me..." His voice diminished when he saw what type of
plant they were for.
Roses. Miniature roses. Yellow ones, to be precise.
He stared at them a moment. "She remembered," he said,
his mouth turning into a half grin.
"Remember what?" Carson seemed clueless.
John didn't answer him at first, thinking back to their recent
trip to Earth and Scotland.
"You have beautiful roses," John had commented to Mrs.
Beckett, hoping the small talk would break the ice and make their
meeting less awkward. Especially since Carson had left them alone
in the yard when he went in to get more tea from the kitchen.
"Thank you," she had said. "Do you like
roses?"
"My mother grew roses," he had admitted. "Yellow
ones. She loved yellow roses."
"Loved?" Mrs. Beckett had raised her gaze to meet his
eyes. "Is she deceased?"
He had paused at the question, contemplating what the truth was
and whether or not he wanted to share it. "No," he
finally said. "She's..."
Mrs. Beckett had shaken her head. "Say no more, lad. She
likes yellow roses, then?"
He was surprised she understood so quickly and so well. But he
supposed mothers tended to have such intuition. When he was
little, his own mother could sense his mood before she even saw
his face.
"Yes. I bring her a dozen every time..." He smiled.
"They remind me of her."
She nodded. "Yellow is such a vibrant color. It conjures up
happy times."
He had opened his mouth to respond, but Carson had returned, tea
in hand, and the subject was dropped as the three moved into
other topics.
"John?" Carson's vice drew him back into the present
and acknowledged the man with a slight nod.
"My mother liked yellow roses," he said simply.
"She had a green thumb, much like your mother.
Unfortunately, it isn't a trait she passed on. I'll never get
this to grow."
Carson shrugged. "You don't know if you don't try. But if it
makes you feel better, I once killed one my mother's plants one
weekend when she had to go to Skye and visit my grandmother. I
forgot to water it."
"You forgot to water it? I'm not that bad," Jack
teased.
"I was in medical school at time. My mind was
elsewhere," Carson admitted. "Buried in the pages of a
biology textbook. I cooked dinner for a week."
"And didn't burn it?"
"The one time I go off-world overnight with your team!
You're never going to let me forget that, are you?"
John shook his head. "Nope. And neither will Rodney. He
takes food very seriously."
Carson rolled his eyes. "He likes MRE's and powerbars. I'm
not sure they qualify as food."
John shrugged. "Nutritional value is right on the package.
They got all. Well, except taste, but you kind of forget about
what real food is like when you've eaten so much processed
crap."
"Aye, I suppose." Carson looked back toward the pot.
"Are you going to plant it?"
"I think I would insult your mother if I didn't. And if it
survives, I'll send her a digital photo."
"It'll survive," Carson said. "Just give it a
chance." He gave John a smile and that's when it hit him.
He knew when 'it' happened. When 'it' changed.
"I don't need to go off world, Major. I'm perfectly happy
sitting here in my lab. You can just bring me back a sample of
this so-called drug and I'd be happy to test it. Ecstatic,
even."
"Come on, doc. It could stop the Wraith from feeding off
human kind. I'd think you'd be all over this one."
Carson looked at him doubtfully. "Aye, I am. But I might
have been a bit more open to the idea if *someone* asked for my
services before volunteering them."
"Yeah, well, I'm sorry about that. But you need to get
out." John picked up a test tube filled with a yellow
substance from Carson's lab bench.
"I'm already 'out.' I came to Atlantis, didn't I? And put
that down, Major. You don't want to know what's in there."
John dropped the tube immediately. Carson was right; he didn't
want to know. "Doc. Carson. Can I call you Carson?"
Carson sighed. "I suppose, although it's not going to make
any difference, Major."
"John," he corrected. "Listen. They aren't too
many of us on Atlantis, so I'd like to think we could all get
along, even be friends. And friends are bound to do a favor or
two for another friend."
"I hardly know you," Carson told him. "And you
could say the same about me. Frankly, I don't think we have much
in common."
"Maybe, maybe not. But doing a personal favor for me is good
way to start, don't you think? I'll owe you one," John
promised.
Carson looked down a minute, before meeting his gaze and giving
him a tight smile. "You win, Major. But you owe me much more
than one. I certainly hope this new friendship can withstand
that."
John grinned. "Oh, it'll survive. Just give it a chance.
Pack what you need. We leave in an hour."
That was 'it.' The moment he and Carson became friends. It wasn't
long after when it became more, but it was that instant when John
realized there was something different about Carson Beckett.
And it only told a package of seeds to figure it out.
He gazed at the plant and wished his mother could remember who he
was for only a minute. She'd always been cheerful, even after his
father's death, and only wanted happiness for her son. If only
for a moment she could meet his eyes and see him as her son, and
not talk about a figment of her son from the past.
"Are you happy?" he wanted her to ask him.
And despite the Wraith, despite the quest for Ford and his ever
present failings, he could say that yes, at least one piece of
him was happy.
He planted the roses, set them in his window.
The day he and Carson decided to move in together was the day
they budded.