Arthur and Douglas were both snoring softly, but Martin couldn't fall asleep no matter how hard he tried. Arthur's words kept running though his mind: "He looks sad, Skip, but only when he thinks you can't see him." He didn't know why it bothered him so much. Why did Douglas feel the need to put on an act with him? Why couldn't he just be truthful? Giving up on the idea of falling asleep any time soon, he rolled over onto his side and looked at Douglas. Even while sleeping the older man looked unhappy.

Douglas shifted and flopped his arm out like he was looking for someone. Martin realised it was probably force of habit. He was reaching out for Helena. He ended up grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it tight against his chest. He sighed happily and his face fell into a smile.

Martin wondered if Douglas would look for him in the middle of the night if he should roll away. Would he smile like that once Martin returned to him? Martin had been on a few dates, even had a few relationships, but nothing that ever led to sharing a bed with someone. He wondered how it felt to sleep in an empty bed when you were used to having someone beside you. He couldn't imagine it would be fun.

He was lonely, he was tired of being lonely, and he was really tired of being attracted to his co-pilot. It was leading him to make some very bad decisions. He was a man with a van, yet he decided to pass up jobs that were actually going to pay him because flying G-ERTI for MJN made him the happiest he'd ever been. Thankfully, Icarus Removals was doing well at the moment and he'd managed to save up quite a bit. He knew there'd be days when he'd be back to scraping by and wondering if staying at MJN was the right choice, but for now everything was fine.

He had trouble admitting to himself that he chose to stay at MJN because he got to spend a lot of time with Douglas, but it was the truth whether he liked it or not. While he did enjoy hanging out with Carolyn and Arthur, it was those moments when it was just he and Douglas in the flight deck, talking about everything and nothing that had really made his mind up.

It wasn't even the quiet moments. It was the games and the way Douglas always won. It was helping him name all seven dwarfs during the flight to Gdansk so he could beat Carolyn. It was the way Douglas always knew how to fix things and get them out of trouble. It was the way his hands danced across the control panel's switches and knobs. The smirk that graced his face practically all the time. The salt and pepper hair that in need of a trim. The way he made fun of Martin's hat and written procedures, or the times he'd lent Martin a hand. He wouldn't change a single thing about the man.

Well, that wasn't quite true now, was it?

#

Douglas awoke to the pressure of a full bladder and Arthur yelping like a puppy in his sleep. This was exactly why he tried to room alone despite Scrooge McDuck Air's ridiculously tight budget. As he passed by Martin's bed on the way to the loo, he noticed the young man was still awake. "Arthur keeping you up, too?"

"He makes noise in his sleep all the time. I'm used to it. I can't sleep for... other... reasons."

Douglas wondered what the 'other' reasons could possibly be. "What is he doing?"

"I'm not sure. It sounds like he's barking, doesn't it?" Martin stretched.

"It does. I sure hope I can fall back asleep." Douglas padded into the bathroom.

Martin rolled on his side so that he was facing away from Douglas' bed and pretended to be sleeping when Douglas crawled back into his bed. He listened to Douglas sigh and pound his pillow. They lay quietly for a few moments, enjoying the fact that Arthur had finally stopped yelping. When Martin thought he might actually be able to fall asleep, he heard Douglas say, "Martin, put some clothes on and let's go outside. I don't want to wake Arthur up."

Martin was confused by the command, but he wasn't going to say no. He pulled on his sweatshirt, hyper aware that Douglas' eyes were following the hem as it slid down his torso. He blushed, unused to being on the receiving end of such a look.

Douglas was surprised to see that his Captain had a tattoo near his heart. He had never noticed it before, not that he'd ever had a chance to see Martin shirtless, but he wanted to know what it was. He just wasn't sure how to ask Martin to take his shirt off. Martin was so self conscious that he always wore a threadbare t-shirt with his pyjama bottoms. It didn't matter how warm the room was, he never slept without a t-shirt. Douglas wondered where it was for a split second and then realised he didn't care.

Douglas shook his head. When the hell did he start referring to Martin as 'his' Captain as opposed to 'the' Captain? Obviously, he wasn't thinking clearly. The divorce must be affecting him more than he thought it was.

They weren't that far from the airport and Martin could see the runway lights from the parking lot. He loved staying in hotels near airports. Often, when he couldn't sleep, he'd go outside and watch the planes. He had a feeling Douglas had more on his mind than simply watching aeroplanes. "Are you OK?" Martin sat down on the grass.

Douglas joined him. "No, Martin, I'm not. The good news, for you, is that I will be requiring the services of a man with a van." He faked a smile.

"You woke me up to tell me that?" Martin sighed. "You know you'd be better off hiring someone whose van won't break down halfway to your new flat, right?"

"Alpha, you were already awake." He noticed Martin's small smile at his use of the phonetic version. "And, Bravo, you're my friend. I'd rather hire you than a stranger." Douglas could barely force the words out. Giving voice to it made it real and he still wasn't ready for that.

"Well, thank you, Douglas." Martin could feel the blush heating up his cheeks again. "Why are we out here?"

"Remember earlier when I asked you if you ever wonder what it would it be like if you didn't spend your life in the pointy end of a plane?"

"Yes. You wanted to know if Helena would still be around." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he felt bad. "Did she say she was leaving because you were never home?"

"Not in so many words." In the distance, an aeroplane's engines fired up. Douglas checked his watch. "Half four in the morning, and they're already leaving the airport. I guess it's good for us that Carolyn likes her beauty sleep."

"Do you ever wonder, though, what your life would be like if you weren't a pilot? You had gone to medical school. What if you had become a doctor?"

"No. That wouldn't have happened. Like you, I never wanted to be anywhere else but the flight deck of an aeroplane. As I've gotten older, it's lost some of it's appeal. Three ex-wives and no time to spend with your daughter will do that to you," he spat.

"Working as a man in a van just so I can eat and pay rent for a flat I'm ever at lost it's appeal a long time ago."

"Then why do you stay at MJN?"

"I get to be the Supreme Commander of an aeroplane," he joked.

Instead of making a snarky comment about Martin's choice of job title, Douglas laughed. Martin joined in, allowing himself a brief moment of wondering if it would be like this if he and Douglas were in a relationship. He quickly thought of something else.

The two men sat together, waiting for the plane to take off. Martin had memorised the layout of the airport prior to this flight and he knew it probably as well as the pilots based there. This particular aeroplane was going to fly right over them. He couldn't wait to see it.

As the plane began its ascent, Douglas looked up. "Do you remember when Arthur wanted to learn how a plane flies?"

"We were going to Abu Dhabi. That was the trip where I almost killed that cat." Martin's shoulders sagged. "Just another great example of my terrible luck. The one trip I needed to heat the hold..."

Douglas wrapped his arm around Martin's shoulder and the young man fell against him. "The important thing is that you didn't kill the cat."

"Well, I would have if you hadn't pulled your Air England nonsense."

Douglas pointed at the quickly approaching aircraft with his free arm, easily changing the subject. "What kind of plane do you think it is?" He had to admit, he liked the feel of Martin's body pressed up against him.

"Boeing. 747. Arthur would freak out if he knew that a wing, one wing, on a 747 weighs over forty-three thousand kilograms." He paused converting the numbers in his head. "That's ninety-five thousand pounds as they would say here in the US."

Douglas wasn't surprised that Martin knew that, nor that he could covert the weight to the US system of measurement so quickly. In fact, he was impressed by it and made sure that Martin knew.

Martin thanked him quietly. Douglas' compliments meant the world to him, even if Douglas would later pretend he didn't say anything. "I'm sorry, again, about Helena. I know you don't want to talk about it, but I'm here if you need to."

"Thank you, Martin." Martin knew he wasn't imagining the fondness in Douglas' voice nor the chills that ran down his spine when the older man looked him in the eye when he said it.

#

The two men quietly let themselves back into the room they shared with Arthur. If he had woken up while they were gone, there was no sign. Unfortunately, he was still making noise. "Alpha, like alpha dog, like Mum. But not like Mum, like Arthur! That's me! [mumbles] Skip thinks I'm brilliant. [mumbles]"

Martin bit back a laugh at the look on Douglas' face. He'd forgotten that Douglas never roomed with Arthur. Martin didn't mind rooming with Arthur even if he could live without the running commentary.

"Watch this, Douglas," Martin whispered. "K, Arthur."

"K is for kilo! Thanks, Skip! [mumbles] No. I like cupcakes. [mumbles] SQUIRREL!"

Douglas moved closer to Martin. "His dreams are terrifying."

Martin laughed quietly as they crawled back into their beds. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth as he finally fell asleep to the sounds of Arthur's babbling.

Douglas' head was spinning. He'd gone from being terribly depressed to thinking about Martin. He didn't think that his Captain was the type of person who would spend the money on something like a tattoo. What else did he not know about the young man? He wasn't surprised that he wanted to know more about Martin. Recently, there had been something about him that had caught his attention and kept it. It was a huge part of why he had wanted to ask Martin to be his flatmate. The tattoo was just the newest thing to think about.

He knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep, so he settled for watching Martin. It was hot in the room, but Martin was burrowed under the covers so far that the only part of his face that was visible was from his nose up. Douglas had never seen his Captain look so young, vulnerable, and dare he say, adorable. As he began to dream, Douglas watched as his forehead creased and his eyelids fluttered. Deep in his dream, Martin flung his arm out and almost hit Douglas. "Douglas?" he whispered. "Douglas, I don't know what to do."

This was the first time Douglas had heard Martin talk in his sleep, and he wondered if Arthur was contagious. The beds were so close that Douglas could grasp his hand. He wasn't sure what Martin was dreaming about, but as he intertwined his fingers with his Captain's, he whispered, "I'm right here, Martin. I'll talk you through it."

Martin tightened his grip on Douglas's hand. "Thank you." Douglas was amazed at how something as simple as holding Martin's hand could comfort both of them. He closed his eyes and fell asleep quickly, dreaming of the young man who lay next to him.