Doctor on board 6/15
Title: Doctor on Board 6/15
Author: tiwtin
Pairing: John Watson/ Martin Crieff
Fandom: Cabin Pressure x Sherlock
Rating: 13?
Beta: Lady_t_220 Thank you!
Disclaimer: Not mine. None of it.
Summary: Written in response this prompt for a Martin/John fic but more so in response to a stunning fill by theimprobable1 which can be found here, which tore out my heart. I started writing a happy-ending John/Martin before she continue on her fic and made it all better for Martin with an OMC (which I adored), but I still needed a happy ending for our Doctor and Pilot.
Warning - Cheese and tooth-aching fluff
Chapter 6 - No one is ‘Just in Fitton’
Three days later Douglas had called into the airfield to pick up the three cases of caviar he'd brought back as a 'kind gift' from Nikolai on their last trip to Moscow, and found Arthur and Carolyn trying to sort out the year-end paperwork. Or at least Carolyn trying to sort out the paperwork and Arthur offering endlessly cheery moral support. A cup of coffee and custard creams were offered and in return Douglas sat down to recheck the figures.
Douglas had just finished checking the final totals, and coincidentally, the final biscuit, when there was a tap at the portacabin door.
"Oh! Hello Doc!" Arthur chirped happily as he opened the door.
Douglas looked up from the paperwork to see a rather unsure looking John Watson.
"Doctor Watson! Come on in!" Douglas called out. Arthur was already pulling the be-jumpered medic over the threshold.
"Ah, Douglas, Arthur, how are you?"
"Very, well, thank you," Douglas answered with a smile. "And may I introduce you to Carolyn Knapp-Shappey owner of MJN. Carolyn, this is Doctor John Watson who saved your Captain's life after your son tried to kill him."
The older woman gave Douglas a scathing glance before turning to John. "I'm very grateful Doctor," she said shaking his hand. "And what can we do for you?" Carolyn asked, concerned the answer would involve a bill for medical services.
"Well, I was just in the area, and..."
"You were just in Fitton? No one is just in Fitton...There's nothing in Fitton." Carolyn pointed out, still suspecting a demand for money.
Before John could respond, Douglas interjected. "I think you'll find, Carolyn, that there's a swooning airline captain in Fitton which is of interest to the good Doctor... Purely medical concern, I'm sure... I'll take you over to see him," Douglas said, grabbing his coat.
"Oh!" Carolyn exclaimed as she saw the stranger blush heavily. "In that case, it's very nice to meet you, Doctor," she added, giving Douglas a meaningful look that wasn't even remotely discrete.
~oOo~
"I warn you... He'll be mortified you've seen his abode," Douglas warned John as he reached forward to knock on Martin's front door.
"Looks like a big place," John responded, looking confused.
"It's a student share house; Martin has the attic," Douglas explained.
"Perhaps I should have called first," John replied, pursing his lips as he listened to the creak of footsteps coming down old wooden stairs.
"Lord, no. That would have sent him into a total spin, and besides, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of Martin's gobsmacked expression."
At that moment, the door swung open, revealing Martin in an old, threadbare gray t-shirt, jeans, three days worth of auburn stubble and an expression, John mentally agreed, that could only be described as gobsmacked. John smiled in greeting.
"Look what I found wandering around the airport!" Douglas said with a grin, casually stepping back.
"John!" Martin spluttered, a smile wavering amid the obvious panic on his features.
"I was in the area, and, well, I thought I'd just pop by to check how you were feeling and-" John paused as Martin's eyes strayed over his shoulder. He turned to see the remaining motion of Douglas trying to signal to Martin to invite him in, but just as he turned his head Douglas pretended to bat an invisible fly away.
"Well, I'd better be off," Douglas said. "Busy day. If I don't see you sooner, I'll see you next Saturday, for your BIRTHDAY, Martin."
"Yes, thank you Douglas, but you will, as you know, be seeing me on Tuesday for our flight to Madrid," Martin said, half frustrated, half perplexed.
John smiled, he really did like Douglas. Douglas gave them both a quick grin, and with a wave sauntered off down Martin's garden path.
"Umm," Martin said, said awkwardly, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. "Would you like to come in?"
Considering Martin was both standing on a step and already taller than John, he seemed quite small and vulnerable.
"Only if that's okay," John said, honestly, looking up at him.
Martin looked back along the messy hallway, noting the discarded take-away container the students had left out. "It's a bit of a mess... sorry," Martin replied, standing back to let John in.
"Oh, don't worry, I'm used to it. When I left my flat this morning, Sherlock was planning a splatter pattern acid erosion test of common furnishings."
"What does that mean, exactly?" Martin asked with a worried frown.
"It means I put all my belongings in my locked bedroom before I left," John said, climbing the stairs behind Martin.
After climbing the first set of stairs, and then a second, Martin stopped at a set of metal pull-down ladders.
"I'm afraid my place is up there... Or we could go to the other kitchen on this floor for a coffee, but I think that's a mess too. I share with Agriculture students, so there's always muddy boots everywhere."
"Up there's fine," John said smiling and looking up through the square hatch. He was very curious now; this scruffy version of the captain he'd previously met, seemed another step removed from the Sherlock persona he couldn't help but apply to Martin because of the resemblance.
"I used to have an attic bedroom at my parents house. Loved it. I could pull up the ladders to keep my annoying sister out."
Martin smiled and visibly relaxed a little, before motioning to John to climb the ladder. John made sure his back-pack was securely over his shoulder and climbed up, wondering - no, hoping - that Martin was looking at his arse the same way he'd looked at Martin's on the two flights before.
The attic itself was small, but had everything: a single bed that seemed to double as a sofa from the position of the coffee table, a small bank of kitchen cupboards with a sink and a kettle, and a small walled off bathroom that was about the same size of an aeroplane's bathroom.
"Can I make you a cup of tea?" Martin asked, his face red after watching John take in his tiny attic room.
"Magic words... I'd love one. Milk, two sugars, please," John said, turning and setting his bag onto the floor.
Martin pulled two cups off the shelf and flicked on the kettle before turning and leaning back against the counter worktop.
"Look, I'm sorry about the airport. I meant to ask you for your number but... Well, I screwed it up, but I did mean to," Martin said quickly, obviously anxious.
John smiled. "I guessed. Well, actually, I just hoped..."
Martin flushed bright pink again and there was an awkward silent moment were they smiled at each other like school kids on a first date.
The fast-boil kettle saved them from further embarrassment and Martin turned back and made their tea while John tried to reconcile the image of Martin making tea with Sherlock's apparent inability to.
"Hmmm, great tea," John said after taking a sip of the mug he was handed.
Martin, raised an eyebrow, not quite realising the impressed flattery wasn't genuine. "Would you like to sit down? I'm afraid there's only the bed," Martin said, taking a seat himself.
"Well, you were in mine... Seems only fair," John said with a smile, and watched Martin flush again. He really was perversely enjoying making Martin blush; it was an impossibility with Sherlock.
"Right. Let me get my mother-henning out of the way. How are you feeling?" John asked, changing the subject away from innuendo.
"Good. Much better. I think I managed to lose about half a stone that day, but and I can eat more than slices of plain bread now."
"Excellent. You won't mind me taking you for lunch, then?" John asked as casually as possible before sipping his tea.
"Oh, I couldn't..." Martin began.
"Go on... My treat. I passed a Pizza Express in town - Nutella dough balls, Martin. Just the thing to recoup that half stone. In fact, consider it a prescription - take ten chocolatey dough-balls with food. "
Martin grinned and then reached to his face, scruffing his long stubble. "If I'm going out I should shave..."
"Trying to grow a beard?" John asked with another smile.
Martin scratched his chin and the look of awkwardness came back. "Umm... Razors are quite expensive. I tend not to bother shaving if I'm not flying."
"I think it suits you... leave it," John answered, taking another drink of his tea.
John recognized the unconvinced look back on Martin's face. "I'm not saying you should get a big bushy beard," John spluttered, "But the stubble looks a bit... Rough....Good."
It was Martin's turn to grin. "Like a bit of rough, do you?"
It was John's turn to blush, making Martin's grin even wider. "Oh, shut up and put your coat on. I need pizza."
Chapter 7 - A little prick
Author: tiwtin
Pairing: John Watson/ Martin Crieff
Fandom: Cabin Pressure x Sherlock
Rating: 13?
Beta: Lady_t_220 Thank you!
Disclaimer: Not mine. None of it.
Summary: Written in response this prompt for a Martin/John fic but more so in response to a stunning fill by theimprobable1 which can be found here, which tore out my heart. I started writing a happy-ending John/Martin before she continue on her fic and made it all better for Martin with an OMC (which I adored), but I still needed a happy ending for our Doctor and Pilot.
Warning - Cheese and tooth-aching fluff
Chapter 6 - No one is ‘Just in Fitton’
Three days later Douglas had called into the airfield to pick up the three cases of caviar he'd brought back as a 'kind gift' from Nikolai on their last trip to Moscow, and found Arthur and Carolyn trying to sort out the year-end paperwork. Or at least Carolyn trying to sort out the paperwork and Arthur offering endlessly cheery moral support. A cup of coffee and custard creams were offered and in return Douglas sat down to recheck the figures.
Douglas had just finished checking the final totals, and coincidentally, the final biscuit, when there was a tap at the portacabin door.
"Oh! Hello Doc!" Arthur chirped happily as he opened the door.
Douglas looked up from the paperwork to see a rather unsure looking John Watson.
"Doctor Watson! Come on in!" Douglas called out. Arthur was already pulling the be-jumpered medic over the threshold.
"Ah, Douglas, Arthur, how are you?"
"Very, well, thank you," Douglas answered with a smile. "And may I introduce you to Carolyn Knapp-Shappey owner of MJN. Carolyn, this is Doctor John Watson who saved your Captain's life after your son tried to kill him."
The older woman gave Douglas a scathing glance before turning to John. "I'm very grateful Doctor," she said shaking his hand. "And what can we do for you?" Carolyn asked, concerned the answer would involve a bill for medical services.
"Well, I was just in the area, and..."
"You were just in Fitton? No one is just in Fitton...There's nothing in Fitton." Carolyn pointed out, still suspecting a demand for money.
Before John could respond, Douglas interjected. "I think you'll find, Carolyn, that there's a swooning airline captain in Fitton which is of interest to the good Doctor... Purely medical concern, I'm sure... I'll take you over to see him," Douglas said, grabbing his coat.
"Oh!" Carolyn exclaimed as she saw the stranger blush heavily. "In that case, it's very nice to meet you, Doctor," she added, giving Douglas a meaningful look that wasn't even remotely discrete.
~oOo~
"I warn you... He'll be mortified you've seen his abode," Douglas warned John as he reached forward to knock on Martin's front door.
"Looks like a big place," John responded, looking confused.
"It's a student share house; Martin has the attic," Douglas explained.
"Perhaps I should have called first," John replied, pursing his lips as he listened to the creak of footsteps coming down old wooden stairs.
"Lord, no. That would have sent him into a total spin, and besides, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of Martin's gobsmacked expression."
At that moment, the door swung open, revealing Martin in an old, threadbare gray t-shirt, jeans, three days worth of auburn stubble and an expression, John mentally agreed, that could only be described as gobsmacked. John smiled in greeting.
"Look what I found wandering around the airport!" Douglas said with a grin, casually stepping back.
"John!" Martin spluttered, a smile wavering amid the obvious panic on his features.
"I was in the area, and, well, I thought I'd just pop by to check how you were feeling and-" John paused as Martin's eyes strayed over his shoulder. He turned to see the remaining motion of Douglas trying to signal to Martin to invite him in, but just as he turned his head Douglas pretended to bat an invisible fly away.
"Well, I'd better be off," Douglas said. "Busy day. If I don't see you sooner, I'll see you next Saturday, for your BIRTHDAY, Martin."
"Yes, thank you Douglas, but you will, as you know, be seeing me on Tuesday for our flight to Madrid," Martin said, half frustrated, half perplexed.
John smiled, he really did like Douglas. Douglas gave them both a quick grin, and with a wave sauntered off down Martin's garden path.
"Umm," Martin said, said awkwardly, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets. "Would you like to come in?"
Considering Martin was both standing on a step and already taller than John, he seemed quite small and vulnerable.
"Only if that's okay," John said, honestly, looking up at him.
Martin looked back along the messy hallway, noting the discarded take-away container the students had left out. "It's a bit of a mess... sorry," Martin replied, standing back to let John in.
"Oh, don't worry, I'm used to it. When I left my flat this morning, Sherlock was planning a splatter pattern acid erosion test of common furnishings."
"What does that mean, exactly?" Martin asked with a worried frown.
"It means I put all my belongings in my locked bedroom before I left," John said, climbing the stairs behind Martin.
After climbing the first set of stairs, and then a second, Martin stopped at a set of metal pull-down ladders.
"I'm afraid my place is up there... Or we could go to the other kitchen on this floor for a coffee, but I think that's a mess too. I share with Agriculture students, so there's always muddy boots everywhere."
"Up there's fine," John said smiling and looking up through the square hatch. He was very curious now; this scruffy version of the captain he'd previously met, seemed another step removed from the Sherlock persona he couldn't help but apply to Martin because of the resemblance.
"I used to have an attic bedroom at my parents house. Loved it. I could pull up the ladders to keep my annoying sister out."
Martin smiled and visibly relaxed a little, before motioning to John to climb the ladder. John made sure his back-pack was securely over his shoulder and climbed up, wondering - no, hoping - that Martin was looking at his arse the same way he'd looked at Martin's on the two flights before.
The attic itself was small, but had everything: a single bed that seemed to double as a sofa from the position of the coffee table, a small bank of kitchen cupboards with a sink and a kettle, and a small walled off bathroom that was about the same size of an aeroplane's bathroom.
"Can I make you a cup of tea?" Martin asked, his face red after watching John take in his tiny attic room.
"Magic words... I'd love one. Milk, two sugars, please," John said, turning and setting his bag onto the floor.
Martin pulled two cups off the shelf and flicked on the kettle before turning and leaning back against the counter worktop.
"Look, I'm sorry about the airport. I meant to ask you for your number but... Well, I screwed it up, but I did mean to," Martin said quickly, obviously anxious.
John smiled. "I guessed. Well, actually, I just hoped..."
Martin flushed bright pink again and there was an awkward silent moment were they smiled at each other like school kids on a first date.
The fast-boil kettle saved them from further embarrassment and Martin turned back and made their tea while John tried to reconcile the image of Martin making tea with Sherlock's apparent inability to.
"Hmmm, great tea," John said after taking a sip of the mug he was handed.
Martin, raised an eyebrow, not quite realising the impressed flattery wasn't genuine. "Would you like to sit down? I'm afraid there's only the bed," Martin said, taking a seat himself.
"Well, you were in mine... Seems only fair," John said with a smile, and watched Martin flush again. He really was perversely enjoying making Martin blush; it was an impossibility with Sherlock.
"Right. Let me get my mother-henning out of the way. How are you feeling?" John asked, changing the subject away from innuendo.
"Good. Much better. I think I managed to lose about half a stone that day, but and I can eat more than slices of plain bread now."
"Excellent. You won't mind me taking you for lunch, then?" John asked as casually as possible before sipping his tea.
"Oh, I couldn't..." Martin began.
"Go on... My treat. I passed a Pizza Express in town - Nutella dough balls, Martin. Just the thing to recoup that half stone. In fact, consider it a prescription - take ten chocolatey dough-balls with food. "
Martin grinned and then reached to his face, scruffing his long stubble. "If I'm going out I should shave..."
"Trying to grow a beard?" John asked with another smile.
Martin scratched his chin and the look of awkwardness came back. "Umm... Razors are quite expensive. I tend not to bother shaving if I'm not flying."
"I think it suits you... leave it," John answered, taking another drink of his tea.
John recognized the unconvinced look back on Martin's face. "I'm not saying you should get a big bushy beard," John spluttered, "But the stubble looks a bit... Rough....Good."
It was Martin's turn to grin. "Like a bit of rough, do you?"
It was John's turn to blush, making Martin's grin even wider. "Oh, shut up and put your coat on. I need pizza."
Chapter 7 - A little prick