Hello hello hello - I bring you a happy chapter - hooray!


Chapter 12

Flora Carolyn Crieff was born at three in the morning, kicking and screaming, with as much grace as could be expected from the daughter of MJN's former piloting duo. With that in mind, her arrival went quite smoothly.

Somehow they arrived at the hospital in what the doctors assured Deborah was 'good time', and in a blur of activity, she found herself properly kitted out in a bed, in a room away from the other patients, sufficiently drugged up, while Martin fussed and floundered at her side. Oddly enough, as he squawked and weaved past the departing midwives, all that she could focus on was the fact that he was still in half of his uniform, shirtsleeves pushed to his elbows, more unkempt than he had ever been before.

"Right, r-r-right, o-o-okay we're okay, y-you're okay, e-everything's fine!" Martin stammered, chest heaving as he flapped at the side of her bed, eyes daring over every beeping device, everything that he could see when he turned his head; it didn't seem possible, but he had never been so red in the face, or wide eyed as his fingers clenched in the thin sheet, "The baby's coming a-and i-it's o-okay – t-the baby…the baby's coming!"

"Martin, lord knows the baby's coming." Deborah sighed, taking great care to steady her breathing and clear her mind, keeping her gaze on Martin and Martin only as if it might help ground her; she could handle the pain, had handled it alone before, but she would have preferred not to have to order her husband out of the doctor's way because he couldn't behave, "I am well aware that the baby is coming."

"S-sorry, I-I'm sorry dear, I'm sorry – sorry – I'm sorry!" Martin flustered, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck as he dragged his bottom lip through his teeth; it would have been a wonderful sight if Deborah wasn't trying not to double over in pain, "I-is there anything I can do? I-I can help, what can I do to help?"

"You can't help – you're a pilot, not a doctor." Deborah snapped, swallowing her anger almost immediately as she lay her head back on the pillow and let her arm flop from her stomach to lie beside her; she waggled her fingers and tried to reach for his hand, plastering on a wan smile, "Just…just stand over here…and hold my hand, like that…just hold my hand, that's what you can do."

"Okay…o-okay…here I am, I-I'm here." Martin gasped more than cooed, but he made an effort to calm down, winding his hand through hers; his palm was hot and sweaty, slick as their fingers intertwined, but that didn't matter, as Martin was running his hand through Deborah's hair, smoothing over her forehead, "I've got you…I love you…everything's going to be alright."

"I'm not dying." Deborah remarked, smirking ever so slightly at the expression on his face; there were a million others that might have been better companions in such a frantic moment, but she wouldn't have traded Martin for the world.

"No, n-no, of course." Martin agreed, nodding emphatically as he kept up his ministrations, soothing and encouraging, clinging to her about as hard as she knew she was going to be clinging to him in a short while, "Of course not."

In the haze of pain and contractions and drugs, it was a struggle to focus on much at all, but Deborah managed, just about. As she breathed a little easier, her eyes traced over Martin's face, took in his shaking and shivering, the nervous glint in his eyes and the inarticulate murmuring that poured over her. Martin had been just as excited as she was for the baby, but she was beginning to think that perhaps he wasn't quite up to it.

"Martin, are you alright?" Deborah asked, as she blinked up at him, squeezing her fingers around the crooks of his knuckles; their joined hands wavered in the air, caught between falling to the bed and pressing against her cheek, not that Martin noticed, his attention diverted, "You can wait outside if you want to."

"No!" Martin insisted, tripping slightly in his haste to move closer to her side, to bend down until they were at equal head height, "I want to stay here – I-I-I want to be here when the baby comes!"

"It's just I'm afraid all the air going to your brain is going to make you dizzy." Deborah elaborated, offering a tense smile that ended a grimace as another contraction hit, making her bite her tongue; it would have been easy to dismiss him with a snarky remark, but even now, she forced herself to reason with him, just as they had spent years of their life practicing, "I'd rather you…you didn't pass out while I'm in labour."

"I won't pass out." Martin retorted, indignant to the very scrunch of his nose; then he seemed to realise where he was, and his eyes widened, eyebrows rising to meet his ruffled hairline, "Wait!...Will there be blood?"

"Will there be blood?" Deborah drawled as best as she could, really more of a shaky rasp as she rolled her eyes and lay back even further, gripping Martin's hand and trying not to dig her nails in; no use getting worked up at a time like this, "Take a moment to think about, darling."

"N-no, that's fine, f-fine, absolutely fine!" Martin stuttered, nodding redundantly, just standing by her side being of no use at all, but absolutely determined and resolute, as he always was, "I'll just-"

"Ow….ow…Martin, decide what you're doing, please." Deborah opened her mouth in the same moment that another, rather more painful contraction hit, and Martin almost winced at how hard she squeezed his hand; when she got her breath back, she smiled sweetly and nodded towards the door, "And call the midwife."

After that it was a haze of pain and people, and people running around making the pain even worse, and Martin standing at her side, turning this way and that, torn between comforting his wife and trying to watch the birth of his child without passing out. He wasn't exactly helpful, but Deborah had to admit herself, during a moment of lucidity, that he would have panicked had she opened her eyes to find him gone. If she had imagined, when they were flying GERTI together and she was trying not to throttle her petulant Captain, that one day he would be standing at her side as she delivered their child, being nothing but loving and a little bit neurotic, she would have immediately cursed her insanity.

Alas, there she was, listening to him stammer at the midwives as if he couldn't decide whether he needed telling what to do, or whether he was giving the orders.

Deborah lay back on what she assumed was her pillow, sighing and exhaling raggedly as the shrill cries finally filled the room, bouncing from the walls, ringing in every corner, a shimmering reed of high-pitched light that made her want to sit up and lurch across the bed, but let her lie back and wait, a small smile resting on her lips. She could just about see Martin, pink cheeked and silent, mouth open as he stilled and let go of her hand, stepped away from the side of the bed.

It was beautiful, watching him give in and follow orders for once in his life, repeating over and over again that the baby was a girl as the midwife made him stand still and cut the cord, then swept her away for the checks.

Then she was back, and Martin was standing there swaying, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, ragged and worn out, red in the face, shimmering slightly with sweat from the panic he had been in, as the tiny squirming mass was placed in his arms. Deborah couldn't help but revel in the warmth that filled her chest, her aching muscles, as she watched his crook his arms awkwardly and allow the adjustments, holding their baby close to his chest, hunching over until he was rocking her gently, bouncing slightly, looking for all the world as if heaven had been placed within his grasp.

Martin's eyes were wide and soft and glistening as if he were about to cry, as his lips open and closed, curled into a smile that met his cheeks…if there were an image in the world that could encompass the wonder that Deborah was feeling, it was the sight of him, gazing down at his daughter as if he were staring at the sun, stunned speechless by what he was as he stepped around the bed.

"Hey…hey Debs…Deborah…look at her…look at her, she's beautiful…" Martin uttered on a whisper of a breath, as he came closer to the edge of the bed, bending down so that over the peeks of his bare arms, Deborah could see the rosy cheeks and scrunched up lips, the tiny waving limbs, and the wriggling baby girl as she grumbled with exhaustion; he was right, absolutely right, "Oh god, she's real, s-she's real and she's beautiful…oh god…"

"I can't see…" Deborah murmured, weakly extending her arms towards him and curling her fingers inwards to coax him nearer once she realised that she couldn't do more than sit up with her back to the headrest before it was too much of a strain, "Bring her here…Martin, bring her here…"

Martin did as he was asked immediately, cooing and smiling down at their daughter as she wriggled in his arms, moving gently to Deborah's side. Shifting the baby into her arms involved some navigation, and bumping into each other, but once she was settled, Deborah couldn't keep her eyes from her face, even as she felt Martin shift closer, curling his arm around her back and shoulders as he clambered to sit beside her on the bed; it was absolutely perfect, and Deborah settled back into his embrace with a sigh, letting the warmth and the fluttering over whelm her as the baby shifted and quieted down a fraction, blinking open her eyes to stare aimlessly up at them.

Perfect blue eyes that were obviously going to darken, above perfectly pouting lips that looked just like Martin's, and perfect tiny little toes and perfect fingers on the end of perfect arms that flailed into the air to catch Deborah's hand as she traced the tips of her fingers over every one.

If Deborah had thought for a moment that her love would be lessened by this being her second daughter, she would have been wrong, completely and utterly wrong…her baby was perfect, and beautiful, and Martin was there, and she was so perfect and warm and tiny curled up in her arms, making nonsensical sounds and squeaks as she blinked into the world.

"Are you alright?" Martin asked softly, somewhere near Deborah's ear as he snuggled closer, all the better for leaning his cheek against her hair and spying his daughter from a better angle; he actually sounded reasonably sound for someone with such a weak disposition.

"Yes…" Deborah breathed, and then blinked hard, nodding her head, unable to make herself look over her shoulder as her husband when it was so much easier to lean forwards and touch her nose to the tip of her daughter's before leaning back, "Yes…I'm…I'm alright…I'm good…"

"You're speechless." Martin chuckled, wrapping his arm more tightly around her shoulders, hugging her more tightly even as he teased her; she could feel his smile just as much as she could hear it, pouring out of him like a ray of light, warm and gushing with emotion, "I should get this on camera."

"You should." Deborah let out a laugh that sort of descended into a truncated sob, choking her with joy that would have overflowed if she hadn't leaned back just enough to turn her head; from this angle she could bat her eyelashes and have them brush his cheek, or his nose as he leaned back far enough that their eyes met, too intense to look for long, "You should ask Arthur when he turns up."

"She keeps looking at you." Martin remarked, murmuring softly, making Deborah's eyes snap back to the baby in her arms; he slipped his hand from her shoulder and reached around her waist until he could trace the tips of his fingers over the baby's tiny palm, beaming as she clenched it shut in a vice like grip but continued to stare up at Deborah, as he lowered his voice into a playful whisper that made Deborah want to cling to him and never let go for being a perfect father a thousand times over without even trying, "Mummy's pretty isn't she? Isn't Mummy lovely?"

"Daddy's not bad either." Deborah hummed, resting her head against Martin's cheek until she felt him press a kiss to her hair; she couldn't help the giddy cartwheels taking place in her lungs as their daughter, shook Martin's finger without really looking at it, taking another from the same hand into her other palm and bending it at the knuckle, before pulling it up to her mouth, gargling all the while, "She likes your hands…I can't say I blame her."

They sat in silence for a few moments more, soaking up the new reality of the child that they were holding between them. Any doubts that Deborah had been having about the path their life was taking were gone. Damn being a Sky God and keeping MJN afloat and resenting everyone going off to different jobs…she wouldn't trade this in for the world, married to her best friend, she and Martin and their baby with their own house.

Everything new and infinitely better for it.

"Have you decided which name you liked?" Martin inquired, after a stretch of time that Deborah couldn't care to measure, resting all together as they were, a nice warm bundle…a proper family all together…all together as things should have been from the very beginning. There weren't many chances to do everything all over again and keep the rewards of the last run, but this was good.

"They were all good…" Deborah replied, giving in to the tiredness that she had only just been keeping at bay as she stroked her bent finger over the faint but definitely present curls atop the curve of their daughter's head; she vaguely remembered refusing Chris the chance to name Verity at all, and the thought of doing the same to Martin didn't even cross her mind, "You can decide."

"I um…I don't like any of the ones we picked." Martin stated sheepishly, clearing his throat and shifting even closer; it was as if he thought that a cuddle and a baby attached to his hand might protect him, from what he had yet to reveal, "I-I-I thought of another one though."

"If you suggest Amelia again, I will name her myself." Deborah remarked curtly, changing her mind immediately, although she couldn't muster the energy to be irritable; it was Martin being Martin, and she wouldn't love him if he weren't annoyingly persistent about all the wrong things, "We are not naming our daughter after a dead pilot."

"Fine!" Martin huffed, as quietly as he could, pout tangible in the single syllable; his breath brushed against Deborah's ear as he spoke more sweetly, as close as he could get to manipulation, "It's not Amelia though, it's another one – a-a-a pretty one…Flora."

"That's…that's not bad actually." Deborah admitted, raising her eyebrows as she glanced over her shoulder at him, pleased to see that he was biting his lip, waiting and making no effort not to look pleased with himself; she turned back to the baby, and sat back, leaning into his chest with her arms held out so that they could both inspect their wriggling, grumbling daughter, "She looks like a Flora…yes…I like that."

"No need to sound so surprised." Martin muttered, although the kiss that he pressed to Deborah's cheek spoke volumes about how he was really feeling; his hold on her never lessened, and he didn't even move from the bed when the midwife returned and suggested that he was in the way.

oOoOoOo

The only positive about having a baby so early in the morning was that Martin and Deborah could have hours to themselves, to enjoy their new child, before people started turning up to congratulate them. It had taken some convincing, but Martin had called the relevant people around five in the morning, and not long later Chris had arrived with Verity. He only stayed long enough to offer them a quick nod and wish them well, before departing to the cafeteria to wait for his daughter to finish her visit.

"Simon and Caitlin are both going to wait to see her until we're at home, but Mum's going to pop in as soon as she can." Martin announced as he entered the ward again, slipping his phone into his pocket as he passed the other beds and slipped behind their curtain; he had tried to straighten himself out, but was still rosy cheeked and crinkled down to the folds in his shirt as he took the seat next to the bed, "Y-your brother said he'd come as soon as possible, b-but I told him you'd rather he waited."

"Thank you, darling." Deborah answered, offering him a faint smile which she was sure did nothing to remedy the bags under her eyes; she waited for him to smile in return, before letting her gaze wander back to settle on Verity as she held Flora with all the grace of a thirteen year old that had never held a baby before, "Archie can wait until we're at home."

"Can I see Uncle Archie as well?" Verity asked, head snapping up eagerly as she listened in to the conversation, perched on the end of the bed; although she cradled the wriggling bundle in her arms, her arms in turn rested on her folded legs, making absolutely sure she didn't jar the child, "It's been ages since he visited."

"You mean it's been ages since he spoiled you rotten." Deborah muttered without any resolve; it would be nice to have them all together like they were now, even if her brother tried to stick his nose in, "You'll have to ask your Dad if you can stay with us."

"And you'd have to be on your best behaviour." Martin informed her, as he scooched his chair nearer to the side of the bed, and adjusted Verity's arm ever so slightly, so that she was supporting Flora's head; that was about as strict as Martine ever got with her, "Your Mum's going to need all the help she can get with Flora."

"So will you." Verity scoffed, giving him the sort of derisory eye roll, eyebrows arched, that she had mastered at some point in the last year, along with a more biting sense of humour, "At least Mum's looked after a baby before."

"I know how to look after a baby." Martin insisted indignantly, although his eyes darted to Deborah's as if looking for confirmation; when he received none, he tipped his nose into the air and resorted to the shrill 'I am the Captain' tone of voice that she was so used to, "I-I'll be fine – I-I just need to get into the swing of it, that's all. I've got two months off, s-so we're going to be fine, j-just fine."

"Sure you will." Verity agreed, nodding and pursing her lips as if she believed him for a moment; then without warning she stuck out her arms, extending the baby towards Martin and shuffling to the edge of the bed quickly enough that Deborah worried for a moment, "My arms are itchy, can you take her back?"

Martin stood up before Verity could more than a few inches, and Flora was back in his arms, cradled safely and securely against his chest in time for Deborah to let out a breath and settle her hand back on the bed. He cooed and Flora gargled as Verity sat back and pulled out the phone that she wasn't meant to have on the ward.

There was no time to scold her though, not that Deborah would have bothered, as the relative peace was broken by the tugging back of the curtains encompassing their area of the ward.

"Chaps!" Arthur exulted as his grinning face filled the previously empty space; he was at least three metres ahead of his mother and girlfriend, throwing his arms into the air as he hurried into to the side of the bed, peering over Deborah to try and see the wriggling, now squealing child in Martin's arms. That he had prompted the shift from grumbling to whining didn't seem to occur to him.

"Hello Arthur." Deborah sighed, eyeing him as he rounded the bed, patting Verity on the shoulder before scurrying to Martin's side, peering like a terrier into his arms; she spared only a fleeting glance to the late arrivals, "Carolyn, Sandra."

"She is…BRILLIANT!" Arthur exclaimed, face lighting up even more as he watched Flora, ignoring the others as they filtered in, and Sandra pulled the curtains together once more; the baby grumbled even louder, her little arms flailing up and over Martin's elbow, and Deborah could just about see her head turning towards the sound of Arthur's voice, "Oh wow…look how tiny she is!"

"Arthur, dear, use your indoor voice." Carolyn scolded him lightly, keeping her voice low as she passed Deborah and lowered herself into the chair that Martin had vacated; she watched him bounce Flora, cooing and murmuring to her, for only a moment before fixing Deborah with an odd, slightly touching, light in her eyes, "The last thing the child needs is another trauma after being forced into the world."

"Sorry Skip." Arthur whispered, hushing immediately, hunching over slightly as if that might help make him smaller; he allowed Sandra to hook her arm through his and pull him to stand against the wall, but not until he had swooped down to place a kiss on Deborah's cheek, "Sorry Deborah."

"God, you both look exhausted." Sandra remarked, taking in their bedraggled states as she folded herself into the corner; she paid Martin to mercy of not crowding him, letting him quiet Flora down, "Hard night was it?"

"Don't let looks deceive you." Deborah replied wryly, plastering on a smirk with what little energy she had left, even as she lay back, letting down her guard regardless of how annoying it was to have to do so, "I'm not even awake right now…"

"Wow, Martin, you look like a Dad already." Arthur whispered excitedly, catching Martin's attention and making him blush furiously; not that Arthur cared, as he carried on, rocking on his heels as if he wanted to lurch forwards and get involved as he always did, "It's like you didn't even need to practice."

"Well, I-I-I, um, it's not too difficult." Martin stammered, shrugging his shoulders as he rocked Flora a little too roughly, then tucked her back against his chest; her crying had turned into sniffles, but she was still making noise, and his eyes were fighting between watching her and glancing around the room at their guests, "N-not yet anyway – I-I-I don't know what's going to happen later…"

"If your parenting is anything like your piloting, you'll pick it up soon enough." Carolyn assured him, with that same odd look in her eyes as she tilted back in her seat to watch him turning this way and that on his heels.

"Was that a compliment?" Martin blurted, turning back to stare down at Carolyn, eyes wide, mouth agape; he looked to Deborah, then let out a laugh, unable as ever to let go of anything without wringing it out, "I-I think that was a compliment – y-you think I'm a good pilot."

"I think you're forgetting the years of ineptitude." Carolyn retorted curtly, sniffing as she turned to smirk at Deborah, as if sharing an inside joke; it would be too much for her to admit that she was happy for them, or to do more than fold her hands in her lap instead of flustering like everyone else, "Just be thankful you can't fly a child into a mountain."

"I think Martin's a great Dad." Verity interjected, raising her voice just so to make it clear that enough attention had been wasted on the new arrivals as she sat up straighter on the end of the bed, pushing her long hair behind her ears as she beamed brightly up at Martin, "He's had plenty of practice already."

"You only think that because he lets you get away with anything." Deborah scoffed, pinning her daughter with a stare that would have cowed a lesser child; she couldn't say she really minded though, if it meant that Martin was the favourite step-parent, but the thought did make her chest well up with nostalgia, so she extended her arms and ushered her nearer, "Come here, give me a hug."

Verity sighed and rolled her eyes again, but did as she was asked, slipping from the bed only to clamber back up beside her mother and allow Deborah to curl one arm around her waist; it wasn't often that she got hugs now that she was a teenager, but it was a special occasion, and Deborah was going to take advantage of having her close enough to cuddle.

"She's very well behaved." Sandra noted, leaning past Arthur with her hands on her shoulders so that she could watch Martin swaying and grimacing as Flora's whining grew fractionally louder; it was sweet of her to lie, "What did you call her?"

"Her name's Flora…" Martin answered proudly, turning so that Sandra could see her properly; he bent down so that Carolyn could inspect the baby, glancing up at Deborah as his cheeks flushed a darker shade of scarlet, "a-and um, i-if it's okay…we um…"

"We wanted to run her middle name by you." Deborah cut in, smirking as she watched her baby quiet at the sight of the older woman, before whining one shrill whine, falling silent; it had taken a lot of thought for them to come to a decision, but she was sure that it had been a good one, "Carolyn…meet Flora Carolyn Crieff."

"You…oh, you idiots, you didn't name your child after me." Carolyn sighed, shaking her head and placing a wrinkled hand over her eyes; she was touched, obviously, by the sentiment, not that she would ever admit to it, "That really is stupidly soppy – why on earth would you burden the poor girl like that?"

"I think it's brilliant." Arthur chirped, visibly fighting the temptation to follow Martin around the room. He met Deborah's gaze and smiled, and she couldn't help but smile back, even as the movement brought a fresh wave of exhaustion washing through her bones to rest all of its weight on her eyelids.

"You think everything's brilliant." Carolyn retorted, turning to glare at her son over her shoulder, pointedly avoiding looking Martin in the eye. He only shrugged, but it looked as if he were going to say something else.

"Would you like to know something else that's brilliant?" Deborah inquired, as she rested her chin against the top of Verity's head and relaxed back, fighting the stuffy tiredness that clung to her; she nodded to Martin for him to carry on in her place, as Arthur's eyes widened expectantly.

"Arthur, we…we were wondering, Deborah and I..." Martin stammered, losing his nerve under the full power of Arthur's anticipation; he took a deep breath and bounced the baby, gathering his resolve and glancing towards Deborah for one last nod of assent, "We were wondering whether you wanted to be Flora's godfather."

"That would be…BRILLIANT!" Arthur exclaimed, abandoning his hush as he threw his hands into the air with excitement; Flora's grumbling rose again, but was ignored as Martin rocked her into silence, "I will be the best godfather EVER – I'll buy her gifts, and teach her all sorts of things, and I'll babysit when you need me, and I'll-"

"I could do a good job too." Verity interrupted, shifting against Deborah's hold so that she could tilt her head back and pout at her mother; it wasn't the first time she had raised the subject, and she was clever enough to know that Deborah's guard was down, "Why can't I be her godmother?"

"We've had this discussion, Verity." Deborah replied, tugging on her waist so that she fell back into place; this wasn't a fight that she was going to get into, "You're her sister, and that's enough."

There was on time to argue, as like an unwanted angel wandering serenely onto the ward, the curtain was pulled back, and Herc appeared, smiling and smooth, hand clasped around something garish and fluffy. When she thought about it, Deborah had to admit, if she had been lucid, she really should have realised that he was missing at all. Hopefully no one would notice and she wouldn't have to live it down or deal with his smarm.

"Hello all!" Herc announced, waving cheerfully at Martin and dropping Deborah a sickeningly indulgent smile; nobody moved to accommodate him, but he didn't need them to for him to insert himself into the scene, passing around the end of the bed to stand beside Martin, "I'm sorry I'm late."

"Hello Herc." Martin greeted him warmly, tilting Flora so that he could show her off; he glanced towards Deborah, but realised that she wasn't going to say hello, and hastened to be polite on her behalf, "Thank you for coming."

"Oh, no worries Martin." Herc assured him, patting him companionably on the back as if they were good friends; he raised the fluffy monstrosity into the air and waggled it in front of the baby, who Deborah was pleased to see just grumbled louder, "Congratulations…the both of you. I just stopped on the way to get the little one a gift."

"Hercules, I told you that wasn't necessary." Carolyn scolded him, although Deborah would have preferred her to sound more irritated at being ignored; her reluctant smile just wasn't good enough.

"No, no, that's okay." Martin promised, shifting his arms so that he could take the toy from Herc and hold it over Flora's head, all without dropping her; it would have been a miraculous achievement had it not been so annoyingly sickeningly sweet, "It's lovely…see, she likes it."

Deborah wasn't sure that Flora was capable of making decisions yet, but she was proud when her baby's hand clenched around the fluffy monstrosity, only to release and hurl it to the floor. She continued to flail and complain, diverting Martin's attention completely as he started pacing in what little space was left.

"Just make sure it's safe." Deborah piped up, plastering on a wan smile as she heaved herself up, nudging Verity to the side as she pressed her back against the headboard; there was only so much vulnerability that she was willing to share as more people filed in, "Thank you, Herc; that was a nice thought."

"You're welcome Deborah." Herc replied, nodding graciously as he bent down to pluck the toy from the floor; he was in far too good a mood considering how early in the morning it was, "I hope you're not feeling too awful; I understand this sort of thing can be strenuous."

"Your concern is touching, it really is." Deborah acknowledged his concern graciously, then stuck her arms out, ushering Martin back towards her; it was somewhat pitiful, but she was too tired, "Martin, give her here…" the moment that her baby was back in her arms, Deborah smiled a genuine smile, feeling better already with the rush of warmth to her chest; she supported Flora's head and turned her to face Herc, lowering her voice, "Look there Flora…that there, is your first look at an imbecile."

"That's hardly fair." Herc retorted, scrunching his face up as if he were insulted at the implication; he deserved it for being smug.

"And most certainly not true." Carolyn snorted, shaking her head as she watched Flora blink and wriggle in her mother's hold, as Verity unhelpfully tried to help her point at Herc, "She's already seen Arthur."

Verity giggled as Arthur let out an indignant noise, only to be silenced by Sandra's hands on his shoulders hushing him with a whispered something in his ear. The bed dipped as Martin lowered himself down beside Verity, and Deborah couldn't help but look at the mismatched gathering and sigh.

"Actually, as we're all together..." Deborah started, clearing her throat to get everyone' attention; she must have been more tired than she realised, as they had begun chattering amongst themselves, but she carried on as if nothing had happened, "Martin and I wanted to talk to you."

"Mostly to Carolyn and Arthur." Martin added brightly, then waved his hand towards Sandra and Herc, tripping over his words in his haste to excuse himself, "N-not that you two can't listen in, b-but you wouldn't be much help."

"Why?" Carolyn inquired, narrowing her eyes at him and sitting forwards in her chair, folding her hands together; she couldn't be blamed for thinking that Martin was trying to hide something; it wouldn't have been the first time, "What have you done?"

"We've got a proposition for you." Deborah drawled, as she settled Flora more comfortably on her lap; this she was confident about, positively excited in fact, "If I'm not mistaken, I think you're going to like it."

oOoOoOo

The two months following Flora's arrival were possibly two of the most frantic, but also the most enjoyable of Deborah's life. There were sleepless nights, a blur of nappies and feedings and baby-proofing the house…but there were also thousands of cuddles and watching their baby grow more real and more happy, gargling and settling into life, learning to focus on their faces and recognise their voices, learning to love her parents and take visible comfort from them as she snuggled into Deborah's hold at night, or lay her ear against Martin's chest.

There had been a few hitches, of course; namely Deborah's sneaking suspicion that Martin didn't want to go back to work when his two months were over. There had been a small argument, but that was all smoothed over with Martin promising that he wouldn't ever imagine abandoning flying to stay at home with the baby…even he had to admit that he would probably regret doing something so rash.

And yet, Deborah could understand why he might. If there was one thing that she had noticed in the past two months, and one thing that made every second of bickering and misery worth it, it was how much Martin loved Flora.

He adored her, and there was no doubt at all that Flora loved her Daddy.

Martin spent every moment that Flora was awake pandering to her, making sure that if Deborah was too tired to feed her or change her nappy or to play with her, that he was there to take her place, only just managing not to be pushy. Even as the bags under his eyes grew darker, and he yawned more often, Martin kept smiling and laughing and playing with Flora constantly; he would lie on the floor with her, read to her, hurl her in the air the moment that she was able to support her head…he was completely devoted to her, diverting his attention only to wrap his arms around Deborah at the most inappropriate of times.

And Flora…Flora lit up whenever Martin was in the room. She was a happy baby anyway, cheering up after about a week of getting used to her new home, but when her Daddy was around she flailed a little more frantically and clung to his shirt when he picked her up, chewing on his collar. Perhaps it was the months that he had spent talking to Deborah's stomach, or just the loving ups and downs in his tone, but Flora cooed and quieted at the sound of his voice, and followed his movements with her eyes.

Which was good, as it meant that Deborah could set up her laptop and negotiate setting up a business with Carolyn, while Martin played with the baby in the middle of the lounge.

As Deborah flicked the last of the water from her hands, placing the now clean baby bottles onto the counter, she turned and glanced back into the lounge, where she could just see the tip of Martin's socks poking out from behind the sofa. When she wandered back to lean against the doorframe, she couldn't help but roll her eyes and sigh at the sight she was met with.

Flora was laid out on her back on top of a toy mat that they had bought her, batting her arms at the toys that were hanging from the bars that arced over her head. Martin was laid out as well, on his front, big book open under his nose.

"Martin, you've read that book twice already." Deborah remarked dryly as she paced into the room and lowered herself down onto her knees at Flora's other side, tracing her fingers over her baby's stomach as she kicked and cooed, turning her head to smile at her; this was definitely a conversation they had had before, "Put it away before I bludgeon you to death with it."

"I'm just going over it again." Martin muttered, flicking the page over with the same focus that he showed the operations manual, nose almost touching the paper; he spared her a brief grin, and then turned back to the book, "There's no harm in being absolutely sure."

"You've been looking after our daughter for nearly two months now." Deborah sighed, as she tickled Flora's stomach, letting her daughter reach up and grip her wrist; for all that she would have liked to tease her husband, it would have been even nicer to see Martin have a little faith in himself, "I have absolute faith in your abilities, without reading the baby manual."

"I will, I-I promise." Martin insisted, nodding his head, although he didn't make a single effort to move away from the book, "I'm just making sure I don't mess something up, o-or forget something important."

"Mess something up?" Deborah inquired, quirking an eyebrow at him and deciding not to bite her tongue; she could imagine just how wrong things could go, and it wouldn't be because Martin hadn't read enough, "You mean like when you were so busy reading that damned book you held Flora upside-down?"

"That was an accident!" Martin replied shrilly, finally pushing the book away from him as he rose up onto his elbows and turned on his side so that he could reach out and stroke the point where Flora's palms clasped Deborah's wrist; his petulant pout did nothing to hide his guilt, "And besides…it was the first time she ever smiled properly."

"That's because she's a silly baby who likes being whirled around and thrown in the air." Deborah purred, offering Martin a sweet smile to assure him that she wasn't really upset about that particular incident; then she rose up on her knees so that she could lean over Flora, beaming at her as she squealed and wriggled as her pudgy tummy was tickled and scrunched, "Aren't you sweetheart?"

"Maybe she's going to be a fighter pilot?" Martin suggested, gasping as he pushed Deborah's hair behind her shoulder to get a closer look; he held her gaze and gesticulated wildly, shifting where he lay, "She doesn't get dizzy, so she doesn't have my ear problem – she could be a fighter pilot."

"Or maybe she's just a silly baby." Deborah cooed, in a flimsy tone of voice that she would ever admit to having used, but had been using more and more lately as she leaned over Flora and watched her tiny lips stretch into a bigger and bigger smile with each tickle underneath her arms, "Yes…you are a silly baby, aren't you…yes…very silly, just like Daddy."

"Maybe Mummy should go and finish her video call." Martin suggested, as he slipped his hand into Flora's and let her swing it over her head; he made a point of glaring Deborah in the eyes, "What do you think Flora?"

"Are you two quite finished?" Carolyn's voice wafted from the laptop open on the coffee table just in time, as Deborah rose to her feet and tread around the toy mat; she had forgotten that she had been in the middle of a discussion, but couldn't make herself feel guilty for the despairing face framed on the screen, "I don't have all day you know; I happen to be busy cobbling together your company."

"Something for which I am most grateful." Deborah drawled as she perched on the edge of the sofa and pushed the screen back so that she could pretend she was meeting Carolyn's gaze; everything was being set up for her, all that she had to do was dole out the flattery and make sure she knew what was going on, "There's not a single person that I'd trust more to take care of legal proceedings, management, funds, and all things that come with being a CEO."

"False flattery will get you nowhere." Carolyn retorted, shaking her head; then a shark-like smirk plucked at her lips, and she asked in a wheedling tone of voice, "Are you sure Arthur isn't the CEO, what with GERTI being his plane?"

"Do you really want your son in a position of authority?" Deborah shot back, as she rested her elbows on her knees, her knuckles underneath her chin; it didn't dare thinking about. She and Arthur had had this discussion, and she had carefully avoided even hinting that he might be in charge.

"It's a chilling thought." Carolyn agreed grimly, blinking as if she had entered a fugue state in which she envisioned her darkest nightmares; then she clapped her hands together and informed her, "Well, everything's pretty much in place – you'll have to cover the marketing though."

"I've done it before, I can do it again." Deborah remarked solemnly, ignoring the sour taste on her tongue at the idea; they had dragged MJN from the dirt once before, and it had been an exhausting rush of posters and leaflets and website redesigns, "We're aiming for a larger group of customers, so it shouldn't be too difficult…I've even got Verity telling all of her friends to book birthday parties in the sky."

"That's not bad actually." Carolyn noted, shockingly it seemed; she sounded reasonably impressed, although that couldn't possibly be true, "In fact, I think that might be the most effort I've even seen you put into your career, asking your daughter to do the legwork aside. On another note; what are you calling your airline?"

"MJN." Deborah replied, squaring her jaw as she heard Martin scoff behind her; it wasn't that funny…it was nostalgic, and people would appreciate the familiarity.

"Really?" Carolyn exclaimed, scoffing and smirking, expression set into one on the precipice of taking pleasure from Deborah's pain; she would remember this for months to come, of that Deborah was sure, "You have the chance to flaunt your ego, and instead you're sticking with MJN."

"As you point out Carolyn, this is the perfect opportunity to flaunt my ego." Deborah drawled, wishing that she had a smarter retort; as it was, she could only wet her lips and grit her teeth, accepting her rather dreary lot in life…it was worth it though, "However, as you also point out, it's Arthur's plane, and Arthur wants the airline to be called MJN."

"Well…there's not a lot anyone can do to change his mind." Carolyn sighed, and shrugged her shoulders; she looked down, presumably at her wrist, "I have a meeting in half an hour, so I'm going to leave you now."

Their goodbyes had never been drawn out, and that tradition hadn't changed. Once Carolyn's image was gone from the screen Deborah closed the lid and turned back to peer over the back of the sofa, closing her eyes for only a moment to wash away the work related buzz inside her skull.

She was pleased to see that while Martin's book was still open on the floor, the man himself was lying on his back with Flora front-down on his chest. Her arms were splayed and she was kicking her legs in all directions, as Martin's hands curled around her middle, lifting her from his chest into the air, making ridiculous noises all the while, brushing his nose against hers.

"Brrrrrrprprprrrrrrr." It was only when Deborah stood and wandered back to fall to the floor beside them that she realised Martin was making what sounded like engine noises, and that Flora's round cheeks were pink, her eyes bright as he pouted his lips and continued to make a fool of himself, "Bup, bup, bup – brrrrr."

"What is Daddy doing to you?" Deborah cooed, letting the warm fluttering settle in her chest as she sat back, leg brushing Martin's, and stroked the back of his hand through his ginger hair; she wasn't really mad at him, not anymore at least, and not in front of Flora, "Hello sweetheart…hello…"

"We're playing aeroplane." Martin answered for her, as he bounced Flora one last time and lowered her onto his chest, where she proceeded to pound her tiny fists and raise her head, smiling with the joy that only babies could produce; he tilted his head into Deborah's touch and pointed frantically at their daughter's back, "She's lifting her head up – look, a-and she keeps smiling."

"That's because she loves you." Deborah murmured, lifting her free hand to stroke over Flora's soft curls, which were already beginning to turn ginger, more slowly than her eyes had turned a dark brown; times were changing, and things were moving on, "Martin, I've had a thought…about how you're going back to work in a week or two. And I'm going to starting just as soon as MJN gets some bookings."

"That shouldn't take too long, should it?" Martin remarked, so sure of himself, or of her…for someone who was painfully aware of all of Deborah's flaws, his faith in her was still astounding, "Everyone wants to fly in their own private jet, e-especially if it's cheap."

"Exactly what I was thinking." Deborah agreed, nodding as she pressed her lips together; it would have been nice if he had taken his eyes from Flora's when she was talking to him, but that wasn't something she could criticise him for, "My thought however, was more along the lines of getting Flora acquainted to flying before my first job."

"You mean the two of us take her up in GERTI?" Martin asked, finally paying attention, turning his head, brow furrowing; he hugged Flora tighter, so that he could sit up a little more and blinked hopefully at her.

"That would be nice, but I think we'd be losing money if we did that." Deborah replied, taking her time in answering, and tracing her fingers from his hand down the back of his neck, "I was thinking more along the lines of you going back to work, and then Flora and I book tickets for one of your short flight up to Scotland or across to Ireland."

"Oh, yes!" Martin exclaimed, sitting up completely and freeing one hand to grasp at Deborah's shoulder, "Then we could spend my hours rest together in the city before we come back." He barely even waited for Deborah to nod before he held Flora away from him and bounced her in the air, cooing ridiculously, "What do you think about that Flora? You get to come and fly on Daddy's plane!"

oOoOoOo

It had been a long time since Deborah had been a passenger on a plane, and even longer since she had been on a commercial flight with a load of other passengers all going about their business and muttering amongst themselves. This flight would be a short one, but she had managed to wangle the seats nearest the flight-deck (she suspected that Martin had played some part in that), and Flora was behaving herself so far…in as much as she was only grumbling and refusing to sit still instead of screaming as she had been in the car on the way to the airport.

It was strange seeing the inside of Martin's new workplace. The stewards were polite and professional, everything was carefully folded away, and the addresses were perfunctory; it was all very odd, but Deborah could imagine, with a faint prickle in her guts, that Martin loved the professionalism of the whole ordeal.

When the plane took off and tilted towards the sky, Flora's eyes went wide and her mouth fell open in a shocked gasp, and she twisted in Deborah's arms until she was staring her up at her mother; it was as if she were waiting for an explanation, bewildered by her Mummy's hasty smiles and attempts to cheer her up.

"Hey baby, hey…shhh now, shh…" Deborah soothed, bouncing Flora on her knee as the 'ding-dong' sounded above their heads; she was beginning to fuss again, and it was important that she learnt to enjoy flying, "Listen, listen now – can you hear Daddy?"

"Hello – this is your Captain speaking, Captain Martin Crieff." Martin's voice filtered into the cabin clear and professional, just like he had always wanted; Flora stilled, and fell silent, as if she recognised her Daddy's voice but couldn't figure out why it was coming from nowhere, "I'd like to welcome you all on this flight from Heathrow to Glasgow, and thank you for flying Fast Jets UK. Now I'll hand you over to my First Officer."

As the First Officer began reeling off a list of details that Deborah didn't care for, she cuddled Flora closer and murmured in her ear, stroking her hand over her soft curls. Some of the other guests were eyeing her baby warily, as if expecting her to cry out and ruin their flight, but they weren't quite at that stage yet.

"I used to sit up the front – just there – with Daddy on our plane." Deborah whispered as she bounced Flora and listened for her grumbling to cease at the sound of her voice; she leaned back slightly to see that she was being watched, albeit blearily, "He used to be a lot funnier when he was talking to the passengers."

A few more minutes passed, in which Deborah pointedly ignored the other people around them. Then she heard the familiar swish of a flight-deck door, and the even more familiar clumsy footfalls heading down the aisle.

"Martin…" Deborah whispered as she looked up, only to see Martin striding to stand at her side, prim and proper in his black uniform, hands hooked behind his back as he nodded awkwardly at the passing stewardess; his indulgent smile and proud glow did nothing to allay her confusion, "Don't you have something rather important to do? In some way related to flying the plane?"

"I'm allowed a short break to pop to use the toilet." Martin replied, voice hushed as if he didn't want to be overheard; nevertheless, he bent at the knees until he was crouched at the arm of her seat, and reached across to take Flora from her, tucking her against his chest and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "Hello sweetheart…come here, let Daddy give you a kiss."

"Is there a problem Captain?" the honeyed tone of the Head Stewardess shattered whatever shimmer of affection that had manifested in Deborah's chest; the woman was standing at Martin's elbow, glaring up at him with the same disdain that one might find in an aunt that hated their nephew's outrageous behaviour.

"N-no, there's no problem." Martin excused himself, although he didn't stop rocking Flora or nodding along to her erratic squeaking that Deborah assumed was a detailed description of her recent adventure; if his stammering was any indication, he was having as much success enforcing his authority as he ever had, "I'm just um…just saying hello to my daughter – a-and my wife. No problem whatsoever."

"I think perhaps you should head back to the flight-deck." Deborah murmured as the stewardess walked away as Martin deposited Flora back in her arms, straightening out the lapels of his jacket; the last thing she wanted was to get him in trouble, "We'll see you when we land."

"Is she enjoying herself?" Martin asked, lowering his voice as he leaned in, one hand on the back of her seat, ignoring the odd looks that the other passengers were most likely sending him, "She's not scared is she?"

"No, she's not scared at all." Deborah assured him, plastering on a smile and squeezing Flora tightly to make her squeal happily at the attention, just to prove a point; she wasn't scared, just irritable at the change in her routine, that was all, "How could she be with us as parents?"

"Good…g-good." Martin nodded slowly and straightened up, adjusting his tie and pushing his hat more securely on his head; he looked almost sorry as he continued, despite the thread of deviousness laced through his voice, "I should head back to the flight-deck – they're really strict here."

"I thought you loved it strict." Deborah teased, smirking at the bashful flush of Martin's cheeks against the spattering of freckles; she had thought that he'd be thriving in such a precise environment, in a way that she never had, "Everything by the book."

Martin, in all his mastery of the spoken word, just scrunched his nose up at her and turned on his heel, returning moment later to give Flora another kiss before disappearing for good.

oOoOoOo

"I could get used to this." Martin remarked as he lounged back on the bench, pivoting Flora so that she could see the park that they had found, although he seemed more interested in trying to stick her whole fist in her mouth; she hadn't succeeded yet, but the Crieff mantra was something close to 'try and try again'.

"You better hope that my clients book lots of weekends then." Deborah replied, sitting back and crossing one leg over the other, so that her shin brushed up against Martin's knee and Flora's toes; she had to admit, if only inwardly, that such a thing came true, if only to make running an airline with just her and Arthur more manageable, "I'm not paying Fast Jets UK for any more tickets with their rates."

"You're lucky I kept my MJN uniform." Martin laughed, shifting Flora on his knee as she splatted a saliva covered fist onto his smart trousers; even so, he did at least try to keep looking at Deborah throughout their conversation, maintaining the airy smile that he had been carrying since he had vacated his plane to find them waiting for him, "I wouldn't be able to fly with you in this."

"I don't think anyone really cares what colour their pilots are wearing." Deborah promised sagely; she didn't think anyone would really care, seeing as she would be locking him in the flight-deck so that everyone knew she was in charge, "So long as you've got a hat, which lord knows, you do."

Martin scoffed and rolled his eyes, but otherwise said nothing as he cuddled Flora and nodded along to her unintelligible babbling. Then a wicked glint came into his eyes, and Deborah only had time to see him smirk before he whipped his hat from his head and drop it over hers; the movement had her unfolding her legs and wobbling forwards, but she maintained her composure, only resisting fighting back because it might risk dropping the baby.

Flora of course squealed in delight, eyes fixed on the hat as she beamed with childish joy and waved her hands in the air. She always reacted like that whenever Martin did anything.

"Do you like that?" Martin asked in a lilting whisper, pointing around her Flora's chest as he held her up beside his cheek to better inspect Deborah; as he met her expectant gaze, he smiled, a nostalgic, soppy smile that had her melting, "Mummy looks lovely, doesn't she? Just like a Captain should look."

And not a hint of jealousy.

"I think she's more mesmerised by the ridiculous amount of gold braid." Deborah drawled, as she pushed the hat more comfortably over her hair; then she leaned in and took Flora's pudgy, flailing hands in hers, "Which is good, because Daddy's MJN hat has even more – you're going to love it!"

If she hadn't been so close, she didn't think she would have heard Martin sigh, a sound that rattled through his chest.

"Is it me, or has everything turned out alright for us?" Martin inquired coyly, as if he didn't want her to hear it as Deborah leant back; his eyes lingered on Flora's curls, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, "Like, there's literally not a single thing I can think of to complain about."

"Don't count your sheep so soon, darling." Deborah retorted, forcing herself not to feel too much either way at the hope, or the disbelief in his tone; she folded her arms over her chest and made herself think realistically into the future, making light of it, "We've got a lot ahead of us…and I've never known you to do anything the easy way."

"Neither do you." Martin snorted, and just like that everything was fine in his world; he kept one hand around Flora's stomach as he rearranged her on his lap, adopting the same prim demeanour that he had adopted for years on end, "Need I remind you of all the awful and dangerous things you've done in the time we've known each other – a-and that's only starting with the bears, and the keys on that van job."

"Fine, if that's the way you want to look at it." Deborah scoffed, quirking her eyebrows and wetting her lips; she unfolded her arms and raised her finger to tilt Flora's chin up until she was looking her daughter in the eyes, "I'm sorry sweetheart, but you haven't got a hope in the world with your Mummy and Daddy the way we are."

With that Deborah whipped the hat from her head and placed it gently over Flora's own, letting the rim fall down over her eyes. Flora let out a gasp, and stilled like a statue as Martin chuckled underneath her, chest shuddering with the effort; it was as if her babyish world had ceased to exist.

Then she tipped her head back and the hat went with it, and she blinked as the light hit her eyes, mouth falling open as she was gifted with the sight of her Mummy; one glance over her shoulder and Flora saw that her Daddy was there as well. Just like that she beamed and squealed, and Martin's hat became the newest toy in a list of things that she would chew.


Aw, I liked writing this - though be warned, I haven't seen a real baby in years.

I hope you enjoyed this, and it lived up to all its potential. Stay tuned for more lovely stuff in the lives of our heroes.