Arthur Shappey is completely, thoroughly soaked. The rainstorm outside picked up quicker than he expected, and by the time he, Douglas, and Martin got to the Edmonton International Airport, the three of them were absolutely drenched. Despite this, Arthur doesn't really mind. Seeing hundreds of other people soaked and frustrated reminds him that he's not the only one in an unpleasant situation. And hey- it's not like they got caught in a blizzard, right? There's something about being in Canada that Arthur really enjoys. It isn't often that they go to Canada, and the last time they had been here, it was to Toronto and Nunavut. He had never seen Alberta before, but so far, he likes it. He'd probably like it even more if the sun was shining, he thinks.

"Chaps?" Arthur asks, as he follows behind Douglas and Martin through the thick crowds of people. "Should we phone Mum before or after we find a hotel? Because I was thinking, if we phoned her before we found one, she'd be really upset. But if we phone her after we find a hotel, she'll still be upset, but she can't do very much about it. Which do you think we should-"

"We'll not worry about that now," Douglas replies through gritted teeth. Arthur frowns.

"But we've got to tell Mum sometime."

"Yes, Arthur, but let's think about actually finding a place to stay first."

Arthur doesn't know what to say to that.

He looks over at Martin, who hasn't said a word since they made the emergency diversion to Edmonton. His fiery hair is plastered to his face, and it still drips a little as he walks. He looks so cold, Arthur notices, and he sort of reminds Arthur of a kitten that slipped on the edge of the tub and fell into the bath. He looks...sad. It doesn't help that he's probably the one who has to phone Mum, too. Martin always has to phone her when things go wrong. Arthur huffs, slightly frustrated. He finds it unfair that Douglas never has to deal with the problems; it's always thrown at Martin, Martin, Martin.

If anyone asked Arthur how it truly made him feel, he would say it angered him. And Arthur is never easily angered.

"Skip, are you alright? You look a little-"

"Wet?" Martin finishes sarcastically. He closes his eyes, and exhales a deep breath through his nose. "I'm sorry, Arthur," he says quietly. "I'm just a little cold. And I'm completely stupid for leaving my hat on board Gerti."

"Don't kick yourself for it, Skip. At least the rain didn't ruin your favourite hat, right?"

"Hmm."

"Arthur," Douglas cuts in. "I think it's time you closed your mouth, and kept it that way."

Arthur closes the door behind him, and gently throws his duffel bag across the room with an underhand pitch. It lands on the floor next to the double bed, but Martin doesn't say anything. When they got to the hotel, Douglas and Martin had a not-so-secret game of Rock-Paper-Scissors to see who would have to share with Arthur, but Arthur's relieved that Martin lost. This isn't the first time they've had to share a room, and to be honest, Arthur doesn't mind at all. It means that he can spend more time with his Skip, and the thought of it sends a little tingle down his spine. He's known for a while that he has feelings for Martin. The thought of being attracted to another man used to scare him, but it wasn't long before Arthur realized it was an emotional (as well as physical) attraction, and to him, that's the best kind.

And now, he finds he's starting to fall in love.

He watches Martin hang up his jacket and step out of his shoes. He looks so tired, and Arthur can't help but want to wrap him up in a tight, proper hug and tell him that everything will be okay. Martin peels off his socks, and pads along the carpet floor and sets his bag down next to Arthur's.

"I think it's time for a shower," Martin says, rubbing the back of his neck slowly. "A nice, hot one."

"Good idea, Skip. You'll definitely feel better after that!"

Martin gives Arthur a tired smile. It makes Arthur feel warm inside.

When Martin closes the bathroom door behind him and starts the shower, Arthur unzips Martin's bag and searches for his pajamas. When he finds them, he pulls them out, closes the bag again, and lays them out neatly on the right side of the bed: Martin's side. He wants Martin to feel warm and comfortable, and Arthur used to love it when Mum would lay out his pajamas when he was a kid. And then there's the fact that he's doing this for Martin. His Martin.

When Martin comes out ten minutes later, Arthur has already laid out his pajamas, pulled the covers back on the bed, and set his toothbrush on the night table. The sight of Martin in nothing but a towel causes Arthur's face to heat up. He hopes he isn't blushing too hard.

"Arthur!" Martin sighs, a wide smile forming on his face. "Thank you. I, um... I really, really appreciate that." He takes the pajamas, and unwraps the towel around his hips. Arthur turns around quickly and puts his hands over his eyes.

"Not looking!"

Martin chuckles.

"It's okay, you can turn around now," he says after a moment. "But seriously Arthur, thank you so much." Arthur steps hesitantly towards Martin, and to his surprise, Martin doesn't seem alarmed when Arthur wraps his arms around his hips.

"No problem, Skip. Afterall, you are my friend," Arthur says.

And I love you, he wishes he could say.