Hello all. This isn't a chapter fic. This is going to be a collection of the drabbles that I've written for Cabin Pressure, most of them from tumblr prompts. Peruse as you will, and do please enjoy.
Prompt: Orchid, Twinkle, Bracelet.
It was the middle of winter, but Douglas had bundled himself in his jacket and coat, stolen the deck-chair that Carolyn kept in the hold, and set himself up outside the porta-cabin. Behind the porta-cabin, to be precise – that way Carolyn wouldn't see him from the window.
He wouldn't have needed to brave the cold if the snow hadn't delayed their flight a whole week. The box of orchids would have been gone, not wilting in their cardboard box. Now he was burdened with the task of picking through them to find what few flowers were still good enough to trade in Moscow – when they eventually got there.
"Isn't there some sort of smuggler's rule?" Martin asked from Douglas' side, where he sat upon a garden chair commandeered from the engineer's hut. "Never get the same stock, o-or never go back to the same person?"
"I don't know what mafia flicks you've been watching, but that's not how it works," Douglas replied, smirking as he stole a sideways glance at his companion.
Martin's cheeks were flushed red from the cold, and his lips were set in the determined concentration that he epitomised. His slim hands were busy winding together the withered orchids that Douglas had discarded.
"What are you doing?"
"Daisy chains," Martin replied, without looking up.
"Those are orchids."
"I know they're orchids," Martin sniped, then sat back and lifted a hoop of flowers onto the tip of his finger. "Come here."
Without waiting for Douglas to assent, Martin reached out and slipped the ring of orchids over his wrist, concluded the motion with a smug 'hmph."
"Are you asking me to be your prom date?" Douglas drawled, but he shook his wrist so that the tattered flowers were no longer at risk of falling into the snow.
"No, I'm getting some use out of something you were planning on throwing away, and using my time productively."
"Are you sure?" Douglas inquired, smiling as he reached up and tipped Martin's hat where it was keeping his head nice and warm. "There's a definite loving, prom-aspiring twinkle in your eyes."
"You're a sod," Martin muttered, but the corners of his lips curled upwards as he folded his arms and adjusted the folds of his coat against the cold.
"You didn't have to come out here with me."
"It was heavily implied that I did," Martin retorted. "You were standing at the door hinting at me – I-I thought you wanted to sneak off for some kissing, not to sort through your failed haul."
"I'm sure I can muster up some kissing, Captain," Douglas remarked, and dropped the orchids in his hands into the box at his feet. His fingers brushed Martin's cheek.
Martin rolled his eyes, but leaned across the space between them to receive a brief kiss – shorter than Douglas would have liked, but still worth the exasperated expression on Martin's face when he settled back down.
"You're still a sod."
"I have an orchid bracelet that says otherwise."