#MJN Air is a family

[mywingsareonwheels]

Me in real life: I get on best with people who express their feelings easily and openly, and with whom I can exchange good wishes and love sincerely and lots.

Me watching/reading things: PEOPLE WHO LOVE EACH OTHER SO SO MUCH BUT NEVER SAY SO MY BELOVEDS.

(To be fair, that is partly so that then i can read fanfic in which they finally tell each other and it’s the best thing ever. ;-) :D )

[thebraxiatelcollection]

I just think how much Douglas, Martin, and Herc have impacted Arthur and have been more of a dad to him than Gordon ever has been to Arthur, and it's basically three idiots and Sir Carolyn raising Arthur and I love my found family MJN Air.

[cupparosielee]

Cabin Pressure advent: Boston favourite moments

M: Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Arthur?

D: Well, anything you say five times is obviously true.

A: mmm. The thing is though Skip, with all due respect, but what I've got that you haven't is that mum sent me on a course on understanding people in Ipswich.

M: And if I ever want the people of Ipswich understood you'll be the first person I call

M: how's he looking?

D: well, he's covered in foam and he's had a heart attack, but otherwise great

C: ...his family and friends are right there

M: friends?!

C: he's rich, he'll have friends

ATC: ah, if it isn't the bouncing bomb. Where can we tempt you with this time? Tenerife's very nice this time of year

D: hello Shanwick. Greetings once again from the merry men of yo-yo Airways

A: ... Still, goodbye... rest in peace... thank you for flying MJN Air.

C: yes, Martin, we're all delighted with your new-found butchness

[madhareadventures]

Douglas stood by Martin's bedside, his usual confident demeanor softened by a touch of paternal concern. As he gazed down at the sleeping captain, his fingers brushed against the tousled hair on Martin's forehead, a gesture both gentle and protective.

**Douglas:** (whispering) You really know how to make a situation interesting, don't you, Martin? I must admit, I didn't anticipate a three-million-year time jump being on the list of challenges when I signed up for this job.

His voice was a mixture of wry amusement and genuine warmth. He adjusted the blanket over Martin's shoulders, ensuring he was comfortable.

**Douglas:** (continuing) But then again, life with MJN Air has never been boring, has it? You're the captain, after all. And I suppose that means it's my duty to look after you, even when you can't remind me of it later.

He leaned in slightly, as if sharing a secret.

**Douglas:** (whispering) Rest well, Martin. We'll have plenty of time for banter and jibes once you're back on your feet.

Douglas's expression softened further, revealing a side of him rarely seen by others. In this quiet moment, his protective instincts were evident as he watched over Martin, ensuring that his recovery was as smooth as possible.

Carolyn observed quietly as Kryten completed his thorough examination of Martin for the day. Her eyes moved from Kryten's focused expressions to Martin's peaceful form, resting in the medibay bed. A mixture of relief and concern played across her features, a reflection of the complex emotions she held for her captain.

**Carolyn:** (softly) Is he showing any signs of improvement, Kryten?

**Kryten:** (nodding) Indeed, Mrs. Knapp-Shappey. His vital signs are stabilizing, and his sleep appears more restful. The emotional shock he experienced is gradually subsiding, thanks in part to the support he has from both his crewmates and his newfound surroundings.

Carolyn's gaze remained fixed on Martin, her fingers lightly gripping the edge of the medibay bed. She knew the road to recovery wouldn't be easy, but seeing the small progress gave her a glimmer of hope. The medibay had become a sanctuary, a place where Martin's well-being was the top priority.

**Carolyn:** (whispering to herself) Hang in there, Martin. We'll be right here, waiting for you to wake up.

Her words were a silent promise, a testament to the unwavering loyalty and care she held for her captain and her crew. As she stood there, Carolyn's presence radiated both strength and determination, a pillar of support for Martin's healing journey.

As Kryten observed Douglas and Carolyn's close interactions, a curious thought crossed his mechanoid mind. He had spent enough time aboard Red Dwarf to recognize the unique dynamics between the crew members, particularly the camaraderie that existed among them. However, seeing the genuine concern and comfort they provided to Martin made him wonder if there might be more to their relationship than met the eye.

**Kryten:** (to himself, inquisitively) Remarkable... The genuine care and support they offer to Captain Crieff is truly heartwarming. It's reminiscent of Mr. Lister's relationship with me. Could it be possible that...?

Kryten's processors whirred as he contemplated the idea. His databanks contained vast amounts of information about human interactions, emotions, and relationships, but this scenario was a bit different from what he had encountered before. He had witnessed Douglas and Carolyn act as a united front, providing a stable environment for Martin's recovery. It was an atmosphere of familial warmth that Kryten himself longed for.

**Kryten:** (softly, to himself) A family of sorts... Could they be Captain Crieff's parents, at least in spirit? The devotion and care they demonstrate... It's truly heartwarming.

As Kryten continued his duties, his curiosity about the nature of the relationships aboard MJN Air and Red Dwarf remained. He couldn't help but appreciate the genuine bond that existed among the crew, a bond that extended beyond the confines of their respective vessels. And in the midst of it all, he found himself hopeful that perhaps one day he, too, might experience such a profound connection with others.

[lothiriel84]

I Relate to the Sparrow

“Arthur,” Douglas clears his throat, the beginnings of a mildly problematic intuition stirring at the back of his mind. “You do know what ‘attractive’ means, right?”

“Of course I do,” Arthur scoffs, about as offended as he ever gets, which is to say, hardly at all. “What do you take me for?”

A Cabin Pressure ficlet. Acespec!Arthur, pre-canon. Title borrowed from Susannah Pearse's eponymous song cycle.

They’re sitting in an overpriced café in the main concourse of Prague Airport, enjoying the momentary respite from their employer’s sharp tongue – just a spot of Arthur-wrangling, nothing Carolyn couldn’t sort out in the blink of an eye, should she want to, but as they’re genuinely quite early there’s no real objection to letting the boy roam freely around the duty free area just a little longer. Not precisely the brightest of chaps, Arthur, but he’s really not all that bad, when you get to know him; and for all that he’s already witnessed countless displays of Carolyn’s maternal exasperation at her son’s misplaced attempts at making himself useful, he suspects no one would ever find the bodies of anyone who was foolish enough to dare touch a hair on Arthur’s head.

“What do you reckon?” Nigel nudges him, eyes darting sideways as a gorgeous specimen of the flight attendant persuasion walks past them, her pristine uniform doing a rather marvellous job at putting her long legs and delectable backside on display.

“Hmm. Not too bad,” he agrees easily, taking a sip of his alcohol-free passion fruit martini. “Reminds me of one of my old flames, actually.”

Well, not so much an old flame as a mutually enjoyable layover in Bern, somewhen between wife number one and wife number two. He’s certainly had his fair share of fun in his brief spells of singlehood in between marriages, not to mention his early days as a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed first officer at Air England.

“What about that one?” he drawls at length, glass subtly raised to point at a stunning redhead strolling down the concourse, her low-cut dress leaving very little to the imagination. “Ten to one says she wouldn’t think twice about jumping into bed with an airline captain.”

“Well, we could scarcely call ourselves ‘an airline’, but I take your point,” Nigel concedes at length. “Carol’s best friend’s a redhead, and she’s always on about her latest conquests. Makes you wonder, you know.”

The rustle of several bags signals Arthur’s approach, mercifully without any sign of an irritable Carolyn hot on his heels for a change. “Hello, chaps,” he greets them, looking if anything even jollier than his usual self, which is something of an accomplishment when it comes to someone whose entire personality could be summed up as ‘perpetually cheerful’. “Did you know they have four different types of Toblerone in the duty free shop?”

At his side, Nigel sighs almost imperceptibly, and downs the rest of his virgin mojito. It’s not that he doesn’t get on well enough with Arthur, he even told Douglas as much on the first leg of one of their earliest intercontinental flights together; he just happens to find constant chatter a little tiresome, and who can blame him when he’s married to the most talkative woman this side of the English Channel. Not that Douglas ever had the occasion to exchange more than a few pleasantries with Carol, which is just as well, given how Helena seems to hold some kind of long-standing grudge against the woman for reasons she never actually cared to explain.

“Care for a spot of bird-watching, Arthur?” he says instead, keen on forestalling any potential diplomatic issue between his captain and their employer’s only son and heir. “Nigel and I spotted a few truly remarkable specimens earlier on.”

Arthur blinks, confusion apparent on his face. “Birds? How did they even get in here?”

“They’re not actual birds, Arthur,” Nigel explains, only just managing to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “We’re talking about women.”

“Ooh, I get it,” Arthur nods, plainly not getting it in the slightest. “What about them?”

“Attractive women,” Douglas clarifies, as if talking to a twelve year old. “It’s who can get most in however long it takes for Carolyn to hunt us down and shout us back to our respective duties.”

“Brilliant. How about that girl sitting on the bench, the one with the book? She looks like she’d give really good hugs.”

The two pilots exchange a surreptitious, disbelieving look at that, which goes completely over Arthur’s head. Each to their own and all that jazz, but for all that he’s got a good thirty years on her, Douglas can think of at least a dozen plausible scenarios off the top of his head in which he’d very much rather take a rain check.

“Suit yourself,” Nigel shrugs at length, twirling his empty glass so that the melting ice cubes clink against one another. “I can see at least four other people from where I’m sitting that I’d rather take to bed, and I’m not even counting that gentleman in the indigo suit over there.”

“How do you mean?” Arthur frowns, looking like he’s slowly and earnestly puzzling over the meaning of that sentence in his head.

“I mean,” Nigel huffs, pinching at the bridge of his nose in what is most likely a desperate attempt to keep himself from snapping at his boss’ offspring. “We’re not all straight here. I believe we’ve been through this before.”

“Oh!” Arthur’s eyes widen, almost comically, and then he’s shaking his head. “No, not the you being bisexual bit, I know that. I meant the bit about taking random strangers to bed.”

“Arthur,” Douglas clears his throat, the beginnings of a mildly problematic intuition stirring at the back of his mind. “You do know what ‘attractive’ means, right?”

“Of course I do,” Arthur scoffs, about as offended as he ever gets, which is to say, hardly at all. “What do you take me for?”

As luck would have it, Carolyn picks that exact moment to emerge from the crowd, phone still in hand. “Ah, there you are, drivers. I bring good news.”

“Absolutely not, Carolyn,” Nigel interrupts her before she can get another word in. “I don’t care if it’s the Queen herself, tomorrow’s our first day off in weeks, and I’m not going to give up on that.”

“O ye of little faith,” Carolyn sighs dramatically, and just like that, the entire conversation is forgotten.

.

A week later they’re on standby, and it’s just the two of them in the Portakabin – Nigel having apparently decided he feels lucky enough to brave the airfield canteen for a latte and whatever it is they’re trying to pass off today as pastries – when Arthur approaches him, and from the look on his face, he’s been ruminating about this for quite a long time.

“Douglas,” the boy begins, somewhat hesitantly. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“You just did,” he sighs, putting his pencil down and pushing the crosswords further away on his desk. “Go on.”

“I mean, it’s kind of a personal question. You don’t have to, if you’d rather not.”

“I’m not telling you how I got your mother’s Talisker off the plane, if that’s what you’re planning to ask,” he ventures, and that seems enough to momentarily derail Arthur’s train of thought.

“Wasn’t going to ask about that, actually,” Arthur shakes his head at length. “You know that game you and Nigel were playing in Prague?”

Douglas nods, slowly. “Bit sexist, I’ll give you that. Still, just a spot of harmless fun, hey? No harm done.”

“Yes, no, I mean – I’m still not sure what it was all about.”

“Come on, Arthur, I distinctly remember you mentioning at least two different girlfriends ever since I started out here at MJN Air. You can’t be seriously suggesting you didn’t at least have an idea as to what was going on there.”

“But,” Arthur pleads, a faint note of distress starting to tinge his voice. “You and Nigel, you’re both married, right?”

Douglas is suddenly reminded of everything he’s managed to piece together about Carolyn’s ex-husband – Arthur’s father – so far, and quickly realises he’d better tread carefully now. “Yes, we are, Arthur. I promise neither of us was seriously planning on cheating on our respective wives; it was more of a hypothetical question, you know – something along the lines of, who would you rather sleep with if you weren’t married. Not one out best moments, as far as game material goes, but there you go.”

“Yes, but – I was wondering, how can you tell?”

“How can I tell what, exactly?” It’s Douglas’s turn to start feeling confused, if he’s perfectly honest. Not that he’d ever admit that out loud.

“That you’d like to, you know. With them.”

“Arthur,” that half-formed idea from a week ago is back now, and it’s getting more and more disturbing by the moment. “Are you trying to tell me that you’ve never – ”

He trails off, struggling to reassess the situation to the very best of his judgement. “Not,” he hastens to add, “that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“Oh, you mean sex,” Arthur nods his head sagely. “Yes, I’ve done that.”

“Right,” Douglas feels pretty much like he’s grasping at straws now, but he’s still determined to see this through, whatever this is. “So, you must have been able to tell, that you wanted to. That you were attracted to them.”

“Well, that was easy. They were my girlfriends, of course I knew I fancied them. How does it work with someone you’ve never even spoken to?”

“Surely, with each of your girlfriends, you had to go through a stage in which they were but strangers you’d only just met?”

Arthur tilts his head to one side, considering. “I suppose so, yeah. I still didn’t know I wanted to have sex with them back then, though.”

“It’s not – you’re making it a bigger deal than it actually is. You were attracted to them, that’s the point. Doesn’t matter the exact moment you decided to act on it, so to speak.”

“But, I mean – with your wives, you didn’t just – I don’t know, look at someone walking past you on the street and go, oh, I know I’d like to have sex with them one day.”

“It was precisely like that with the current Mrs Richardson, in point of fact,” he points out, though he elects to omit the – neither small nor insignificant – detail that he didn’t so much bump into Helena on a stroll through the park as she was one of the bridesmaids at his second wedding.

“Oh. Okay. No, it doesn’t work like that for me at all.”

Douglas can almost hear the wheels inside his own head finally click into gear. His daughter would be appalled if she knew he’d put most of her half-hour lecture on sexual orientations and gender identities out of his mind as soon as she was finished with it, but he hasn’t precisely forgotten it, either. “If I recall correctly, some people experience sexual attraction differently than most. As in, some might not experience it at all, while others do but only occasionally, or under very specific circumstances. I’m not saying that might be your case, but I believe it could be something worth looking into, should you feel like you want to.”

For the longest of moments, Arthur stands stock still, turning the idea over and over in his mind. “Wow,” he exhales at length. “That’s just – wow. Thank you, Douglas.”

Before he knows it, he finds himself with an armful of Arthur, looking for all the world like he’s out on a mission to put the ‘bear’ into ‘bear hug’.

“Oh dear,” Carolyn’s voice makes itself heard from where she’s only just materialised in the doorway, clearly debating whether or not she has the energy to deal with whatever nonsense is going on in there. “Please tell me it’s not Hug Your Pilot Day, again.”

“That’s not even a thing,” Douglas protests, only to think better of it. It’s Arthur they’re talking about, after all.

“Don’t be silly, Mum,” Arthur grins, unrepentant. “That’s not until May.”

“Someone give me strength,” Carolyn huffs under her breath, even as her son plants a quick peck on her cheek and dashes off, only narrowly avoiding knocking Nigel – who appears to have finally found his way back to the Portakabin – over in the process.

“This is going to be a long day,” Nigel announces philosophically to no one in particular, and resumes his usual place behind his desk.

[obaewxn]

to all the people listening for the first time to cabin pressure after discovering john finnemore is co-writing good omens 2: welcome to our fandot

[thekenobee]

DOUGLAS, FOR GOD SAKE LEAVE THE MOON IN PEACE

[hisgalthursday]

Cabin Pressure Question

Ok, I admit it... I am a huge Marlas shipper.  And I have been thinking about them lately.  So here’s my question... when Martin brings Douglas to a family function as his romantic partner, do you think Wendy ends up loving and being charmed by Douglas, or does she remain cool to him because of the way he treated Simon?  @mjn-air @mywingsareonwheels @essexmermaid @watchingroger @thekenobee @michellebsworld

[cabinpressurechallenge]

summer christmas challenge 2021

bing bong! please fasten your seatbelts and prepare to taxi towards the summer christmas event, which I am delighted to announce will take place over the week of June 21 - 27!

The flight plan is as follows:��

Monday 21 – Arthur day

Tuesday 22 – Martin day

Wednesday 23 – Douglas day

Thursday 24 – Carolyn day

Friday 25 – Theresa day

Saturday 26 – Herc day

Sunday 27 – minor characters day

thank you so much to everyone who filled out the survey, your answers were very helpful and much appreciated! Each day of the challenge will be dedicated to a character, as well as a word game, some suggested episodes to listen to and celebrate, and some other prompts for you to use however you want. I have listed all of this below the cut so even if you’re busy during the challenge week, hopefully this still gives you a little time to participate!

I’ve also opened an ao3 collection - please feel free to submit to it at any point! All posts on tumblr will be tagged ‘summer christmas 2021′. If you have any questions or difficulties, please get in touch, and otherwise, enjoy your flight!

Monday 21 – Arthur day

Episodes: Ottery St Mary, Limerick

Game: yellow car

Quote prompt: ‘quicker than the curious and brighter than a meteor’

Question: what’s your favourite example of Arthur being smart?

Tuesday 22 – Martin day

Episodes: Johannesburg, Wokingham

Game: words of one sound

Quote prompt: ‘your hands protect the flames from the wild winds around you’

Question: what do you think series 1 Martin would think of series 4 Martin?

Wednesday 23 – Douglas day

Episodes: Fitton, Uskerty

Game: books with the last letter knocked off

Quote prompt: ‘and I have come to accept my past is more clay than stone’

Question: how much of Douglas’ personality as the smooth talking sky god do you think he really fakes?

Thursday 24 – Carolyn day

Episodes: Helsinki, St Petersburg

Game: rhyming journeys

Quote prompt: ‘this feeling calls for everything I can’t afford’

Question: what do you think is Carolyn’s biggest turning point in allowing herself to show vulnerability to the MJN family?

Friday 25 – Theresa day

Episodes: Vaduz, Xinzhou

Game: the cabin address

Quote prompt: ‘when I start to tumble from the sky, you remind me how to fly’

Question: at what point do you think Theresa becomes part of the MJN family proper?

Saturday 26 – Herc day

Episodes: Rotterdam, Yverdon les Bains

Game: people who should have been enemies

Quote prompt: ‘the bright golden circle of the sun would melt away into the blue of the sky’

Question: how do you think Herc and Douglas know each other from Air England?

Sunday 27 – minor characters day

Episodes: Newcastle, Molokai

Game: the travelling lemon

Quote prompt: ‘you've seen me from every side, still down for the ride’

Question: who is your favourite minor character? give us a headcanon!

[mjn-air]

Fandot Secret Santa @hellyeahjohnfinnemore

Merry Christmas, dear Mars!

Alone on Christmas? Not anymore!

I made you an edit about how the found family of MJN Air happily celebrates together instead of, you know, following through with their original plans of going back to the hotel and getting a bit of sleep (Douglas) or sitting by the pool alone (Martin) - and I hope you will like it and I hope you are having a few calm, peaceful and brilliant days.

[sircarolyn]

fitton thoughts:

i’m so ready for this one, it’s my joint fave with vaduz and i must have listened so many times, it’s one of those ones i go to when i need an audio hug, because that’s what it really feels like

this cold open really is everything, captain wing commander sir arthur shappey i could not adore you more <3

douglas being late causes me some pain, i hate being late

but then he makes arthur tea and i want to cry - i almost forgot how many bonding moments these two have in this series

‘though i’m a little surprised you do’ arthur trying to remember the song is just delightful 

‘are you sure you’re not thinking of when martin trapped my hand in the cabin door’ oh what a delightful image that presents 

‘i’ve taken the s off!’ oh martin, one day you’ll be okay at word games 

‘god has smiled on us’ i’ve tried really hard not to say this for every single line, but i adore how stephanie cole says everything 

arthur miming apocalypse now <3

i know i’m meant to feel bad for martin here but i just can’t because of how hard i laugh at carolyn and douglas every time ‘but lo! his cap was on his head!’ it’s just so so funny i’m sorry martin you had it coming 

and now is where it sucker punches you, ohhhhhhhhhhhhh gordon my enemy >:(

another beautiful arthur and carolyn moment here, the way she says sorry, calls him dear - man she’s so gentle with him here, and then on the flip side you can just here how horrible gordon’s being in the letter, you can hear his nasty tone and i just want to cry oh my god these two 

ahhh who else fondly remembers john finnemore scrawling on people’s heads in lipstick at airdotcon berlin.... i miss that so much

mmm here’s the most overused martin line, ‘i wanted to be an aeroplane’, and excitingly douglas backstory!

and now arthur breaks my damn heart again with the muppet babies - i actually cannot articulate how much this means to me just like... he doesn’t feel good enough! he doesn’t fit in! and then the others making him feel better hhhh it just hits me in a place in my chest

‘neither carolyn or arthur quite float my boat’ and we’ll see this line again very soon...

‘i’ve just been talking with your father’ o u c h

the way that carolyn is so sharp with douglas and then so gentle with arthur like... god these two! and arthur being ‘selfish’ i’m honestly on the verge of tears 

arthur’s happiness speech is something i try and hold very close to my heart every day, because he’s right! he’s so so right! it’s the little things every day! ‘and when you are you’re too busy worrying about it being over’ i don’t have to say anything else because he’s just right

and at the same time, picturing carolyn sitting alone in the plane... making a decision.... oh my god 

‘surely the only professional pilot who cannot successfully juggle one apple’

and the song <3 these guys what a family unit! this is it!!!!!! this is it!!!!

i hate pineapple juice, but i love that it’s arthur’s running gag

and here, twisting the knife again with douglas’ confession - this episode is such an emotional tightrope and the subtext is so heavy, but it’s balanced so beautifully with the genuinely funny stuff - i know i say it every time but finnemore is so smart 

‘arthur shappey. you’re up.’ oh my boy, he sounds so afraid

i know it’s for the jokes, but i’ll never understand why they changed the names - it’s not like goddard knows their names enough to realise they’re swapped 

trans martin rights!!!!

and they’re juggling apples <3 and arthur is so close to nailing it... if only he hadn’t said his age... and isn’t he just channelling douglas here so so much... dad figure douglas ahhh hh hh (and i’ve just made a realisation about myself as to why i loved douglas so much at 16 rip)

zyyuuumm! zyuummmm! but like he’s right.... it does look like a ray gun...

‘i have a message for mr shappey from the ceo of mjn air. gerti’s staying with me so up yours baldy. yes that is a business message’ <3 queen

and here again, exposing vulnerability - this is such an interesting episode for douglas + carolyn because it really really puts them on the back foot, and for a change douglas ends the episode on a low - i could talk about this all day but i’ll stop now haha i really really adore this episode 

[mywingsareonwheels]

Oh no, a bodyswap!

Fred Thursday and Douglas Richardson have suddenly swapped places. Thankfully Douglas wasn’t flying GERTI at the time, and Fred wasn’t in the middle of a chase or anything, nor in the middle of a pint.

Also fortunate is the fact that there’s been a fair amount of this sort of thing around lately, so MJN Air, the Thursday family, and the CID take it all pretty calmly. The important thing now is to keep what’s happened under wraps, so the two men have to temporarily fit into each other’s lives for a while...

[cut for length, extreme nerdery, and spoilers for a reveal in the final episode of “Cabin Pressure”, though it’s set rather earlier...]

Martin spits out a few things about regulations and how dangerous it is to have a co-pilot who CANNOT ACTUALLY FLY A PLANE, Carolyn, really this isn’t acceptable, can’t we have Herc for a bit? But actually he and Fred get on rather well. Fred is, shall we say, rather used to awkward young men with passionate interests in what they do and no self-preservation to speak of. He’s not too bad at picking up word games either. He also is utterly unfazed by Carolyn, and very gentle and lovely with Arthur.

He doesn’t like Herc much, mind.

Douglas is delighted to be pretending to be a police detective in the late 60s for a while, and says so at great length. They don’t send him out on cases, obviously, and Bright and Jakes between them take charge of everything, but he’s intelligent and astute and no harm in using what resources they have so he chips in from time to time. Bright frankly finds him rather confounding. Morse misses Thursday desperately, and he instinctively distrusts Douglas’s easy charisma, but he can’t deny it’s great to have someone to chat about opera and crosswords and etymology and books with at work for a while. And Morse’s tenor blends rather well with Douglas’s baritone, so they even duet a little when they think no one’s listening.

“Oh Christ,” says Jakes to Strange and Trewlove (because they all very much were), “now there’s two of them”. No one’s forcing him to stay listening and actually rather enjoying it, mind...

Douglas is happily ensconced in what was Joan’s room, but his attempts to charm Win fall extremely flat. His cooking, however, is another matter.

(Douglas would absolutely deny that part of him, seeing Win and Sam, and Joan when she’s over, and the solid loyalty that all of the station have for Chief Inspector Thursday, is most profoundly, gut-wrenchingly jealous of this working-class doppleganger of his.)

Martin gives Fred a flying lesson on a quiet day, and is both utterly delighted (he can’t wait to tell Sam!), and suddenly struck with how much he misses his home. And Morse. He ought to tell Morse more often how much he values him. As he can’t right now, he tells Martin how proud he deserves to be of himself. How much he hopes that his Sam turns out to have even half of Martin’s grit and determination. Martin is absolutely not getting misty-eyed, shut up.

“Fred is brilliant, isn’t he, Mum!” “Yes, Arthur,” replies Carolyn, “for once I think that statement you make about every human you meet seems to actually have truth in it.” Carolyn has not started carrying a tiny miniscule flicker of a torch for their guest. She doesn’t. Herc can stop fussing, honestly.  “I do miss Douglas though,” Arthur confesses. “And I bet Fred’s family and friends are missing him lots.” There are three things that Douglas does for his new friends in Oxfordshire before he finally manages to get back. The first is that he teaches Morse, Max, and a number of Morse’s colleagues how to make several delightful non-alcoholic cocktails, and has a quiet and (for him) very gentle word with Morse about the drink and what it can do, and how much he would like his new young friend to profit by his own sad example.

The results of the second were many and various, but if Bright never hears the phrase “the lemon is in play!” go past his office again it will be far too soon.

Third? Well, let’s just say that there are a few corrupt, wealthy powers-that-be in Oxfordshire who won’t be messing with Morse or Jakes or anyone else any time soon. It’s possible that Douglas didn’t keep precisely within the law, but he’s not actually a detective inspector, and it’s not like he used any violence. Some things are just so much more effective, after all... Fred only did one thing before he got back, unlesss you count the pep talks to each of Martin and Arthur, a chivalrous tip of the hat to Carolyn, and leaving an appreciative note for Douglas on the latter’s kitchen tablet (along with hearty apologies for the burned bit at the bottom of the Le Creuset dish). But Gordon would insist on descending yet again to make life difficult for Carolyn and Arthur. Douglas doubtless would have handled things differently, with more aplomb and cunning and the like. But Fred’s still a detective, even if he’s not a genius like Morse, and it wasn’t that hard to find that gold wiring in the end really. Nor to make damn sure that Gordon will not be coming back... They catch a glimpse of each other, crossing somewhere in the ether as they return home. A polite nod (Fred) and a wink (Douglas). And a few words exchanged, one posh and drawling, the other a soft cockney. “You look after that red-headed boy of yours. He needs a few good meals and someone to tell him he’s proud of him. He looks up to you more than he’d ever admit.” They stare at each other. “Well,” says Fred, “we’d better both do that then.”

[thebraxiatelcollection]

"We're like a family here!" Code Red. Run away fast, run fast now.

"We're like a family here at MJN Air." WHERE CAN I BE PART OF THIS FAMILY.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Hello! I hope you’re having a great holiday. I’m not sure if you’re still taking winter prompts, but I have a specific request. Have you ever written a sad/comfort holiday fic? Doesnt even have to be romantic. Maybe Aubrey is alone on Christmas but gets to video chat with Duck who reminds her she’s not alone - idk. Something like that would melt my heart. Thank you, again I hope you’re having a nice winter season!

Here you go, I hope this fits the bill! And thank you, <3

In retrospect, trying to fly back to Kepler early Christmas morning when there’s a snowstorm AND a pandemic was not Aubrey’s best plan.

She’s been visiting her aunt and uncle, her only remaining relatives on her mom’s side. It was in part because, after returning Sylvain home, it’s hurt a little less to think about her mom, so seeing the family wasn’t the painful ordeal it used to be. But it’s also because the memory of Dani reuniting with her family sits fresh and bright in her mind. Dani was cut off from them for years, wanting to see them but forbidden under the terms of her exile. Aubrey teared up when she watched her girlfriend be swamped in hugs by an overyjoyed, vampiric extended family. She’d never been cut off from her extended family that way, and a voice in the back of her head that’s she’s sure (okay, mostly sure) doesn’t belong to anyone but her told her it was time to reconnect. So off she flew.

Dani was supposed to come so she could meet them, but came down with a cold the day before they flew out. It turns out that Poinsettias are bad for vampires, and one snuck through Barclay’s careful monitoring of the Lodge lobby.

On the plus side, it meant Dani could stay with Dr. Harris Bonkers, who was not permitted as a carry-on for MJN Air and also was pretty clearly not a normal rabbit, something Aubrey isn’t ready to explain to her relatives.

The downside is it means she’s well and truly alone, sitting in O’Hare and cursing her luck, the weather, and over-priced salad she bought at a kiosk.

She’s far from the only stranded traveler, but everywhere she looks, she sees people in groups or duos, huddled up under vaguely non-denominational seasonal lights and tinsel or sipping fancy coffee.

There was a dinner at the Lodge tonight; it was probably the bomb, Barclay likes an excuse to bust out the fancy menu and make a hundred different things.

She picks up the book she brought, but can’t focus on it. Has the same problem with the games on her phone, the fidget snake Indrid gave her, or her favorite Youtube magic trick how-to series.

Dani is asleep, Barclay said she’d been out more or less all day, even though she felt way better, and Aubrey doesn’t want to call and wake her up. 

The shitty bucket seats near the gate that she sat down by at random are killing her, no matter how she perches or sprawls on them, so she shoulders her bag and trudges down the shiny concourse, looking for somewhere to sit.

It’s not that she’s never been alone, though even when she first traveled away from home she had Dr. Harris Bonkers. It’s more that she;s gotten so used to being around a bunch of people. First at the Lodge, then in Sylvain.

She’s gotten used to having a family. Being without it, on a day when everyone says you should be near them, reminds her too much of the first Christmas without her mom.

God, if she start crying in an airport, it’ll suck. In part because blowing her nose still sometimes leads to little bursts of fire. Janelle is still stumped by that one.

A sign on a little wooden post says the place she’s stopped in front of is open until 2 am. That’ll work. She glances at the name.

It’s the Bigfoot Bar and Grille.

She laughs a little louder than she means to, but it’s 10:30 P.M in an airport; no one gives her a second glance, all too busy doing their own weird thing in a liminal space.

The place has wi-fi, and she plus her phone in to the courtesy socket by her booth. She orders nachos and a root-beer float, because why the hell not, she’s in an airport, lonely, and hungry.

Her phone flashes, an incoming video call where the only thing in the caller I.D is a duck emoji.

“Hey, Lady Flame.” Duck grins at her from the couch; he’s in a Christmas sweater, and Winnie is whapping a shiny toy just out of frame.

“Hi!” She waves, “Indrid tell you I was bored?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, he’s asleep. Zonked out on a carton of nog and two dozen cookies. Barclay mentioned you got stuck when we were at the Lodge earlier. Thought you might like some company.”

“I really, really would.”

“Even if I don’t got much excitin to report?”

“I’m, like, this close to ripping out the speakers in this terminal; they’re all playing Muzak Christmas Carols.”

Duck grimaces

“I know, right? Frosty the Snowman is bad enough on it’s own.”

“Yeah, never cared much for that one. Always liked ‘Silver Bells.’“ He mumbles a little on the admission.

“Duck, you’ve never lived in a city.”

“So? Kinda fun, imaginin Christmas in a different place.”

“0/10, would not recommend.”

He snickers, says encouragingly, “c’mon, gotta be a song that puts you in the Christmas spirit.”

“I kinda like the ones from the Rudolph movie, the one with the kinda creepy animation. Mom liked to sing them to me when I was little. She’d be, like, decorating the tree and singing to herself and let me help and-”

She sniffs, not noticing the tear until it falls.

“Sorry. I’m still getting used to talking about her like that to people.”

“S’okay. You don’t have to.”

“I...I kinda want to. Even though I did it a bunch this week, I couldn’t talk to my relatives about the whole fire-guilt-surprise you’re a god thing.”

The view shifts, Duck adjusting the laptop so the small Christmas tree is in the background.

“What else did she do?”

And so Aubrey tells him; about the year of the badly burnt cookies that they ate anyway, of her mom reading her the same picture book, even when she got too old for it, because it was a tradition for the two of them. Of her mom wearing the flamebright pendant at Christmas parties and Aubrey always asking if she could wear it this year.

Eventually, the harried waitress puts her food down before dashing off to cover eight other tables.

“Better let you go, don’t want those nachos gettin cold.”

“Yeah. Cold nachos are sad. Thanks for keeping me company.”

“Any time. And Aubrey? Know it feels like, being stuck there tonight, but you ain’t alone. And I don’t mean in some weird, woo-woo way. I mean we’re all thinkin about you, and we’ll all be waitin for you tomorrow. It ain’t like before you came to Kepler, when there wasn’t anyone waitin for you at the next stop, or the one after that. Where there wasn’t really a home. You got a home now, hell, you got two of ‘em, one on each planet.”

Aubrey wipes her thumb under her eye.

You ain’t alone, Lady Flame, you’re just a little further away than usual.”

“Yeah” the words sink in and she smiles, brighter this time, “yeah, you’re right. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“Merry Christmas, Duck.”

“Merry Christmas, Aubrey.”

[unionjackpillow]

Thank you @leatherandcherryblossoms for tagging me!!

you can usually tell a lot about a person by the type of music they listen to. put your favourite playlist on shuffle and list the first ten songs then tag ten people (or as many as you wish)!

1. Family Circus by Micah Green

2. Blue Monday by Sebastian Böhm (so not the original but the Wonder Woman version I think)

3. Just Drive by Alistair Griffin

4. Nothing breaks like a heart by Mark Ronson and Miley Cyrus

5. The Gilded Hand by Radical Face

6. Darkening Sky by Peter Bradley Adams

7. We Luv U by Grand Theft Audio

8. Boadicea by Enya

9. Theme from "Haven" by Andre Fratto and Leah Siegel

10. The Whistler by Jethro Tull

Tagging @hotchgan, @mjn-air @fractionallyfoxtrot @sonicskullsalt @bisexual-magician @yourlocalheartbreaker @louisaland @olivinesea @ishouldvebeenawelder @biancaicaras

[lothiriel84]

Fake It

Show me joy, flower through disarray Let's destroy, each mistake that we made

A Cabin Pressure ficlet. Set in the same universe as Overjoyed, Joy, Million Pieces, and An Act Of Kindness. Aromantic!Carolyn, with background aromantic!Tiffy. (With thanks to @sircarolyn​ and @fractionallyfoxtrot​ for their prompts.)

“Far be it from me to question your motivations, Carolyn, but I fear the waiters are starting to suspect the menu has somehow managed to personally offend you.”

She turns her patented death glare on him, but it’s more out of habit than anything else. “Whoever translated the ice cream list into this weird approximation of the English language, frankly deserves a taste of Arthur’s cuisine.”

“Shall I order for you? You won’t regret it, I promise,” Douglas offers, without any apparent second motive. He’s in a good mood today – she suspects it’s got something to do with how he got to show off with a perfectly executed landing in Pisa, and in front of Arthur’s live-in partner on top of that. (Arthur explained to her that Tiffy isn’t quite comfortable with being referred to as his ‘girlfriend’, and she’s been trying to avoid using the term since, even in the privacy of her own mind.)

“Fine,” she shrugs, irritably, and shuts the menu. She barely pays any heed to Douglas rattling off the order in what sounds like fairly good Italian – at least to her own, unmistakably British, ear – starts fiddling with her phone instead.

“I’m sure even Arthur can’t manage the feat of accidentally tipping the Leaning Tower over, if that’s what’s troubling you.”

“Douglas,” she starts, pinching the bridge of her nose for good measure. “If I wanted to put up with a man’s idea of a witty conversation, I’d be out there sightseeing with Herc.”

“Trouble in paradise, I surmise?” Douglas ventures to enquire, almost genuinely sympathetic for a change.

“It’s none of your business,” she retorts, quickly. Douglas doesn’t seem to mind her abruptness, though – just flashes a charming smile at the young waitress bringing their ice cream sundaes, and signals for the taller one to be placed in front of Carolyn.

“Almond and pistachio gelato,” Douglas gestures with his spoon. “My favourite.”

Carolyn takes a cautious sniff, stares suspiciously at her glass cup. “Douglas, if you ordered some god-awful flavour on purpose, I swear,” she starts, only to trail off as she tastes the first spoonful. “What on earth is this?”

“Limoncello gelato. I’m told it tastes amazing.”

She takes another spoonful, and while her first instinct is to be contrary just for the sake of it, in the end she simply can’t summon the energy for it. “It does, rather, actually.”

“You’re welcome,” Douglas smirks, tucking into his gelato with gusto.

They finish their ice cream in silence, and in an uncharacteristic bout of generosity, Douglas even offers to pay. She lets him, if only to be afforded the satisfaction of bringing it up later, and they find their way towards a bench sitting in the shade of yet another of those sickly smelling linden trees.

“I don’t need a man’s pity,” she declares at length, against her better judgement, somehow tricked into it by Douglas's continued – and frankly unnerving – silence. “Especially not Herc’s.”

“Again, far be it from me to offer matrimonial advice,” he sighs. “But if that’s of any consolation, I don’t believe you have it.”

“How would you know,” she bites back, somewhat bitterly, only to feel vaguely guilty about it immediately after. None of this is Douglas’s fault – nor Herc’s, for that matter, if she has to be completely honest with herself. Herc’s been nothing but utterly supporting of her, which is what unnerves her the most, no matter how irrational that sounds.

“I hate to be the one to break this to you, Carolyn, but the walls of the Portakabin are hardly soundproof.”

Of course. She’d been too bloody furious to care, and the worst part was that deep down, she knew Herc was right – it was just a lot to wrap her head around, even more so after spending sixty-three odd years wondering whether there was something fundamentally wrong with the way she was.

“I’m not an idiot, Douglas,” she points out, matter-of-factly. “I am well aware of the many, varied romantic and sexual orientations available to humankind, as Arthur was so kind as to teach me at some length after that blasted course in Ipswich. And while I do appreciate that Arthur, in his infinite optimism, must have meant that ridiculous pin badge as a well-intended gift, I can’t see why I should publicly advertise such a private matter, let alone be – proud – of it.”

She almost spits out the word, as if physically lodged somewhere in her throat. For all that she values Herc’s intelligence enough to trust he’s not somehow deluding himself about the true nature of their relationship and the foundations of their marriage, she can still feel the doubt raising its ugly head way more often than she should like.

“I never thought I would have to come out and say this, and I would appreciate if you kindly refrained from mentioning it in front of the man himself, but – well, Herc is no idiot, either. He knew precisely what he was signing up for when he proposed to you, and yet he did it all the same.”

“Good Lord,” she blinks, though it’s mostly for show. She simply can’t afford to pass an opportunity to redress the balance in their – friendship, she supposes, even though she would never call it that to Douglas’s face. “Are you actually agreeing with Herc?”

“I know, I know. The world must be about to end, and all that,” he shrugs, flicking a stray leaf from the sleeve of his uniform. “What I fear our brave First Officer failed to convey is the fact that, while you’re in no way required to wear your son’s gift, it would make a world of a difference not just to him, but to young Tiffany as well.”

Carolyn stares in the distance, considering the truth to Douglas’s words. She has spent virtually all her life completely unaware there was even a word to describe her own experience, and she might have never heard of it, had it not been for Arthur and his partner. Having recently had the displeasure of meeting Tiffy’s mother, she daren’t imagine how hard the girl had to fight to have her own identity acknowledged, never mind accepted; she thinks of her sister Ruth and her scathing comments about Carolyn’s perceived failings, and suddenly decides that, forget pride – spite is a powerful enough motivator, at least as far as she is concerned.

“Right,” she clears her throat. “Aromantic pride flag it is, then. At least I brought my green scarf with me this morning.”

“That’s the spirit,” Douglas grins, and makes to get up. “Shall we reconvene with the rest of the crew?”

She rummages into her bag, takes a deep breath, and pins the badge to the front of her shirt. ��If any of the passengers dare to comment on this,” she starts, her chin raised in defiance.

“Should you need any help with disposing the bodies,” he throws at her over his shoulder. “You know where to find me.”

With that, they fall into step with one another, heading back towards where the main tourist attractions are. It’s not their first time in Pisa, not by any stretch of imagination, yet she can easily picture Arthur having the time of his life while some befuddled stranger takes that same old photograph of him ‘holding up’ the Leaning Tower with his hands. Or perhaps Tiffy managed to talk some sense into him, where everyone else has failed this far.

“Oh, and Douglas?” she breaks the silence, eventually, even as they spot Herc’s distinctive figure flitting in and out of the crowd a mere couple of yards ahead of them. “Thank you for the ice cream.”

They both know that’s not all she means, and she’s secretly relieved when Douglas has the decency not to directly address it. “Any time,” he nods, and waves to get Herc’s attention.