Carson had always enjoyed parties. He wasn't shy of strangers, and he had no trouble losing himself in the music and laughter (and alcohol) that flowed in such gatherings. He supposed it came of growing up in such a large family. Every holiday saw his home filled with aunts and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews and hangers-on of all sorts.
So when Elizabeth announced that Atlantis would be throwing a party to improve morale, Carson found himself nearly unable to contain his excitement. They'd booked a band (several engineers, a marine and two botanists who called themselves Kung Fu Trees), ordered the refreshments (Laura Cadman was wrangling every passing able body to help her cook, Halling had promised them spiced ale, and Radek was increasing the yield of his still.) and planned decorations (Teyla was bringing in several colorfully woven bolts of fabric, and Katie Brown was choosing the brightest flowers in greenhouse 12.).
When the day of the party finally arrived, Carson decided to go all out, and he pulled his kilt from the box under his bed. He knew from experience that, while he might be mocked by some, he would get the right sort of attention from the right sort of people when he showed up flashing a little leg. He had a specific someone in mind tonight, but he'd all but given up hope of ever being on the receiving end of John's infamous charm. Still, a party's a party, and Carson was determined to enjoy himself.
Sure enough, as the evening went on, Carson had more than a few comments on his attire. He even thought he noticed John eyeing him from time to time, though the colonel spent much of his time slouching behind the refreshment table.
As the festivities wound down, Carson, who had perhaps imbibed a bit too much of Radek's brew, was feeling deliciously relaxed and it is perhaps because of this that he didn't roll his eyes when a low voice said in his ear, "So, is it true what they say about Scots and their kilts?"
He smiled to himself at the familiar drawl, half turning to see John's smiling, and very inebriated face. "That depends, Colonel. What exactly do they say?"
John's smile turns wicked. "Oh, you know, Carson."
"Aye. That I do. Want to find out for yourself?"
John looks around the room nervously, and Carson follows his gaze. There are only a few people left and the lights have been dimmed, so they are very much alone in their little corner. John's hand, which had been resting lightly on Carson's back, inches its way lower. "Maybe. But I think we ought to take this somewhere a bit more private, don't you?"
The proposition is music to Carson's ears, and he leads John away from the room and back to his quarters.
In the next few hours, Carson learns more than he ever thought he needed to now about John, and when they finally come down, he says, "I must say I was surprised by your offer tonight, John. I didnae think you were interested."
John smiles, lazy and satisfied, and he pulls Carson into his arms. "Oh, I've been interested for quite a while."
"So why did you never say anything?"
"I couldn't seem to work up the courage."
Carson smirks at this. "So it's really Radek I should be thanking this evening?"
"Nope," John answers with a sly grin. "Halling."