Doctor on Board 13/15
Title: Doctor on Board 13/15
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 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 13 - Big Brother
"Martin, what have you done?" Carolyn asked with exasperation as she came through the portacabin door. They were on standby so Martin was busy filling out Monday's flight plan. Both he and Douglas, who had his feet on the side of Martin's chair and was filling in a crossword, looked up in puzzlement.
"Nothing... I don't think," Martin answered.
"Well, the Airport Manager wants you to see you in hangar three," Carolyn answered.
"That doesn't bode well," Douglas said with a cringe.
"What? Why?" Martin answered, starting to feel a little panicked.
"The last person to be asked to a one-to-one chat with the airport manager was Terry, the head aircraft engineer," Carolyn said, frowning at Martin.
"Terry? I don't know a Terry?" Martin countered.
"No, you won't, because after that chat he ended up fitting exhausts to cars for a living in KwikFit," Douglas responded.
"Now, Martin, go. For heaven's sake, man, don't make him wait," Carolyn said, sweeping a bit of stray dandruff from Martin's Jacket shoulders and shoving him out of the portacabin like a fretful mother.
Martin was sick with anxiety by the time he reached the hangar. Perhaps the manger had found out about the underground bar and they'd all blamed him, or he'd found out about Arthur's pet duck that had caused that Cessna crash last spring, and somehow as the Captian of MJN he was to blame.
Martin's hand paused on the handle to the metal door while his stomach did a backflip. Well, if it all went wrong and he got fired, at least he'd still have John. Perhaps he could stay with him, in his bedroom at Baker street until he got another job. Despite the threat of not being able to fly, he suddenly didn't feel as anxious anymore. Bolstered a little, he turned the handle and walked into the hangar.
Anxiety smacked straight back into his chest when, after a few steps, the door was closed behind him, and two men in dark suits stood in front of it.
"Good afternoon, Captain Crieff. I hope I'm not keeping you from anything pressing," came the voice from the middle of the hangar.
A middle-aged man with a posh suit and a very commanding voice ripped Martin's attention from the intimidating men trapping him in, to the figure standing beside a black Mercedes which was parked in the centre of the hangar.
To the left of him, leaning on the boot, was a woman dressed in a charcoal gray pencil-skirt suit who looked like she'd come straight from a film-noir scene.
"You're not the airport manager," Martin complained in a slightly hitched voice. "And I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to have your car in here," he added weakly.
The complaint caused no reaction to the suited man, but the woman smiled as she continued to key her Blackberry.
"Tell me, Captain Crieff. What is your exact relationship with a Doctor John Hamish Watson?"
"Umm," Martin whimpered, stalling for time. He knew John did spy stuff, what if these people wanted to harm him?
"I don't think I know anyone called that," Martin responded. "Was he a passenger? Why do you want to know? Are you the police?" Martin bluffed.
Badly, apparently. The woman's smile grew further and the man rolled his eyes and leant further on the smart black furled umbrella he had with him.
"I'll be clearer, Captain. I know you are in a relationship with Doctor Watson. Who hired you?"
"Hired me? No one!" Martin said, thrown by the bizarre question.
"Come now," the man said genially. "It's doubtful your likeness is a coincidence. What is the purpose of your relationship with Doctor Watson?"
"That's... That's none of your business," Martin spluttered.
At that moment, Martin's phone rang, and from the ringtone he knew exactly who it was.
Martin grabbed his phone quickly and pressed the green button. "John, I've been kidnapped!" Martin yelled into the phone, backing away from the man.
"Calm! Is he short and sarcastic or does he have a brolly?" he heard John ask quickly.
Martin's eyes snapped to the umbrella the man leant against.
"Brolly," Martin squeaked.
"Oh, good. Calm down. It's fine, put me on speaker-phone," John instructed.
"What?" Martin asked, both incredulous and scared.
"It's alright, Love. I'll get this sorted out in two minutes, theres nothing to worry about. You're safe, I promise. Now, put me on speaker-phone."
With shaking hands, Martin pressed the 'speaker' button on the screen.
"Mycroft!" John's harsh tone echoed around the hangar despite the tinny quality of the phone speaker.
The intimidating man suddenly straightened, looking uncomfortable.
"What the hell do you think you are doing pulling the warehouse scenario on my boyfriend?" John shouted, causing the man to pout a little.
"John, I was merely safeguarding your wellbeing," the man spoke up.
"Safeguarding my arse. Sherlock said you'd do this. You realised he looked like your brother and thought you could use that to your advantage at some point. NO!"
"John, you are being quite unreasonable!" Mycroft answered, huffily. Martin looked in perplexity between the phone on his palm and the man who had seemed sinister, but now seemed a bit awkward.
"NO, Mycroft! You've wasted enough of his time. Now take him home!" John said firmly.
"Hi, John!" the woman unexpectedly called out, receiving a 'look' from her employer.
"Hi Anthea. Can you make sure Martin gets home from wherever you've taken him?"
"Sure," she answered, taking her eyes of her mobile for the first time and giving Martin a quick smile.
"And Mycroft?" John asked.
"Yes, John?" Mycroft answered, suddenly looking a little beaten.
"Martin would have done a moving job this afternoon, which he would have been paid for. It's his sole source of income. I trust you'll reimburse him?"
"Of course, John," Mycroft murmured, looking sheepish.
"Martin, take me off speaker-phone." Martin brought the phone to his ear.
"John?" Martin asked, still a little worried.
"Don't worry, Love, he's harmless. Well to you anyway. Anthea will get you home safe and I'll be back tonight... And listen, there's no need to tell Mycroft you weren't doing a moving job today - just accept the money, he has no real concept of it anyway."
Chapter 14 - The beginning of the end
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 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 13 - Big Brother
"Martin, what have you done?" Carolyn asked with exasperation as she came through the portacabin door. They were on standby so Martin was busy filling out Monday's flight plan. Both he and Douglas, who had his feet on the side of Martin's chair and was filling in a crossword, looked up in puzzlement.
"Nothing... I don't think," Martin answered.
"Well, the Airport Manager wants you to see you in hangar three," Carolyn answered.
"That doesn't bode well," Douglas said with a cringe.
"What? Why?" Martin answered, starting to feel a little panicked.
"The last person to be asked to a one-to-one chat with the airport manager was Terry, the head aircraft engineer," Carolyn said, frowning at Martin.
"Terry? I don't know a Terry?" Martin countered.
"No, you won't, because after that chat he ended up fitting exhausts to cars for a living in KwikFit," Douglas responded.
"Now, Martin, go. For heaven's sake, man, don't make him wait," Carolyn said, sweeping a bit of stray dandruff from Martin's Jacket shoulders and shoving him out of the portacabin like a fretful mother.
Martin was sick with anxiety by the time he reached the hangar. Perhaps the manger had found out about the underground bar and they'd all blamed him, or he'd found out about Arthur's pet duck that had caused that Cessna crash last spring, and somehow as the Captian of MJN he was to blame.
Martin's hand paused on the handle to the metal door while his stomach did a backflip. Well, if it all went wrong and he got fired, at least he'd still have John. Perhaps he could stay with him, in his bedroom at Baker street until he got another job. Despite the threat of not being able to fly, he suddenly didn't feel as anxious anymore. Bolstered a little, he turned the handle and walked into the hangar.
Anxiety smacked straight back into his chest when, after a few steps, the door was closed behind him, and two men in dark suits stood in front of it.
"Good afternoon, Captain Crieff. I hope I'm not keeping you from anything pressing," came the voice from the middle of the hangar.
A middle-aged man with a posh suit and a very commanding voice ripped Martin's attention from the intimidating men trapping him in, to the figure standing beside a black Mercedes which was parked in the centre of the hangar.
To the left of him, leaning on the boot, was a woman dressed in a charcoal gray pencil-skirt suit who looked like she'd come straight from a film-noir scene.
"You're not the airport manager," Martin complained in a slightly hitched voice. "And I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to have your car in here," he added weakly.
The complaint caused no reaction to the suited man, but the woman smiled as she continued to key her Blackberry.
"Tell me, Captain Crieff. What is your exact relationship with a Doctor John Hamish Watson?"
"Umm," Martin whimpered, stalling for time. He knew John did spy stuff, what if these people wanted to harm him?
"I don't think I know anyone called that," Martin responded. "Was he a passenger? Why do you want to know? Are you the police?" Martin bluffed.
Badly, apparently. The woman's smile grew further and the man rolled his eyes and leant further on the smart black furled umbrella he had with him.
"I'll be clearer, Captain. I know you are in a relationship with Doctor Watson. Who hired you?"
"Hired me? No one!" Martin said, thrown by the bizarre question.
"Come now," the man said genially. "It's doubtful your likeness is a coincidence. What is the purpose of your relationship with Doctor Watson?"
"That's... That's none of your business," Martin spluttered.
At that moment, Martin's phone rang, and from the ringtone he knew exactly who it was.
Martin grabbed his phone quickly and pressed the green button. "John, I've been kidnapped!" Martin yelled into the phone, backing away from the man.
"Calm! Is he short and sarcastic or does he have a brolly?" he heard John ask quickly.
Martin's eyes snapped to the umbrella the man leant against.
"Brolly," Martin squeaked.
"Oh, good. Calm down. It's fine, put me on speaker-phone," John instructed.
"What?" Martin asked, both incredulous and scared.
"It's alright, Love. I'll get this sorted out in two minutes, theres nothing to worry about. You're safe, I promise. Now, put me on speaker-phone."
With shaking hands, Martin pressed the 'speaker' button on the screen.
"Mycroft!" John's harsh tone echoed around the hangar despite the tinny quality of the phone speaker.
The intimidating man suddenly straightened, looking uncomfortable.
"What the hell do you think you are doing pulling the warehouse scenario on my boyfriend?" John shouted, causing the man to pout a little.
"John, I was merely safeguarding your wellbeing," the man spoke up.
"Safeguarding my arse. Sherlock said you'd do this. You realised he looked like your brother and thought you could use that to your advantage at some point. NO!"
"John, you are being quite unreasonable!" Mycroft answered, huffily. Martin looked in perplexity between the phone on his palm and the man who had seemed sinister, but now seemed a bit awkward.
"NO, Mycroft! You've wasted enough of his time. Now take him home!" John said firmly.
"Hi, John!" the woman unexpectedly called out, receiving a 'look' from her employer.
"Hi Anthea. Can you make sure Martin gets home from wherever you've taken him?"
"Sure," she answered, taking her eyes of her mobile for the first time and giving Martin a quick smile.
"And Mycroft?" John asked.
"Yes, John?" Mycroft answered, suddenly looking a little beaten.
"Martin would have done a moving job this afternoon, which he would have been paid for. It's his sole source of income. I trust you'll reimburse him?"
"Of course, John," Mycroft murmured, looking sheepish.
"Martin, take me off speaker-phone." Martin brought the phone to his ear.
"John?" Martin asked, still a little worried.
"Don't worry, Love, he's harmless. Well to you anyway. Anthea will get you home safe and I'll be back tonight... And listen, there's no need to tell Mycroft you weren't doing a moving job today - just accept the money, he has no real concept of it anyway."
Chapter 14 - The beginning of the end