He wished that everybody would just stop asking; wished that his family knew better than to imply there had to be something wrong with him, since he hadn't found himself a girlfriend yet.

Relationships were difficult enough for him without the added pressure of other people's expectations, thank you very much. Awkwardness and stuttering aside, the mere thought of a woman wanting – that – from him was enough to throw him into a panic; there was nothing he could do to change this simple fact.

All he asked for was someone to share his life with, not his bed; unfortunately everybody else seemed to find the idea absolutely ludicrous, so he supposed he should simply resign himself to spending his life alone, no matter how much that hurt.

Until Arthur of all people unexpectedly offered the solution to his dilemma.

xxx

He'd just embarrassed himself by blurting out a bitter 'why does everything always have to be about sex?' in response to Douglas' teasing remarks, and now he was standing on the tarmac furiously wiping his eyes with the sleeve of his uniform jacket. Great, he'd given his first officer one more reason to make fun of him; he wished that the ground would open up and swallow him, so that he would be spared all further humiliation.

"Skip?" Arthur called, concern apparent in his voice. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he replied stubbornly, biting at his lip. "Go make Douglas his tea."

The steward shook his head. "He says he's going to make coffee for us all. You know, it's not really his fault, Skip – he honestly had no idea."

"What? That I'm useless at relationships?"

"No, I mean that you're just like me."

He blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of such a statement. "I'm not sure I follow you."

"You don't like sex, right? Well, I don't like it either – not really – but that's okay Skip, we're not the only ones."

"Oh," he murmured, completely taken aback. "Aren't we?"

Arthur smiled cheerfully. "Mum says it's a bit like being colour-blind – you don't see the world like most people too, but that doesn't stop the world from being a brilliant place."

"I suppose you're right," Martin nodded at length. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Skip. Now we'd better go back inside, I don't want Douglas to worry."

"Perish the thought," he smirked back, and he felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted from his chest.

Arthur was definitely brilliant, and he wouldn't let anybody try and convince him otherwise.