*BING BONG*

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, I am Captain Martin Crieff and with me today is First Officer Douglas Richardson. Today, we are headed to Hartford, Connecticut. Our flight time is approximately 6 hours, 45 minutes and we expect to be flying at a speed of 500 miles per hour. Our Steward on today's flight is Arthur Shappey, who will be doing the safety briefing shortly. Thank you for flying MJN Air. Enjoy your flight."

"Nice speech, Sir," Douglas drawled in his usual fashion. Martin didn't want to admit how much he liked it when Douglas called him 'Sir'. He still felt ridiculous about insisting that Douglas call him that when they first started working together. He'd told Douglas several times since then that it wasn't necessary to say it any more, but Douglas persisted. It was almost like he knew the word went straight to Martin's groin, especially when it was partnered with Douglas' Sky God smirk... which was all the time.

"Thank you, Douglas." He looked at his co-pilot, studying the older man's profile for as long as he could get away with it. He could easily picture Douglas as he was in his thirties, even his forties, when he was the dashing Air England pilot, but he had to admit that he liked this more mature looking version of Douglas better.

They sat in silence for a long time before Douglas asked, "Martin, do you ever wonder what it would be like if you didn't spend your life in the pointy life of a plane?" He stopped. This was MARTIN. What was he thinking, asking such a stupid question? "Never mind. I forgot who I'm talking to."

Martin thought about his question carefully. "Well, obviously, I'd be a man with a van." He stared at Douglas' salt and pepper hair, wondering what it would feel like if he ran his fingers through it. He really had to stop this. Eventually, Douglas would catch on and things would get awkward. It was the last thing Martin wanted to happen because they spent so much time together.

"Touché. I suppose I could sit here and play what if, but it doesn't change the facts now, does it?" He was normally so good at masking his feelings, Martin was taken aback to realise that was hurt written upon his face.

"I'm sorry, Douglas, I really am." He stared at the control panel. "I'm here if you need to talk." He knew Douglas would never take him up on it, but he just wanted to be a part of Douglas' life outside of MJN, no matter how small.

#

"British actors whose first names start with a 'B'... Go!"

"OOOH! Benedict Cumberbatch!" Martin couldn't believe that he knew one right off the bat. Normally he struggled for hours while Douglas racked up the points.

"Brians Blessed and Bedford." Douglas' voice was smug.

"Brians Cowan and Cox." Martin replied just as smugly.

"Well played, Sir. Ben Kingsley."

"Bill Nighy."

"Hey, chaps! What are you playing?" Arthur had finally come around with their drinks and the cheese tray.

"British actors whose first names start with 'B'. Brendan Gleeson." Martin took a sip of his coffee. It was absolutely horrid. Arthur must be more distracted than usual. "Thank you, Arthur."

"Billie Piper!" A huge smile took over Arthur's face. It was the first game in a long time that he had an answer for.

"Ah, that would be a good one, Arthur, but Billie Piper is an actress."

"Are you sure, Douglas? Billy is a boy's name."

"Douglas." Martin shot Douglas a warning look. "Billie can also be a girl's name. I say that since 'actors' is used for both men and women, Arthur's point counts."

"Thanks, Skip!" The service bell dinged, causing Arthur to look back with a frown on his face. "They're drinking an awful lot and Mum's just restocked the drinks trolley. I don't think there will be anything left by the time we land!"

Douglas reached up and turned on the 'fasten seat belts' light. "I think a game of passenger derby is in order, then. Let us know when they get squirmy."

"BRILLIANT! I can't wait!" Arthur practically skipped out of the flight deck.

*BING BONG*

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is First Officer Douglas Richardson. Please do be aware that the Captain has turned on the 'fasten seat belt' sign. At this time, we'd like you to return to your seats and make sure that your seatbelt is securely fastened."

Martin smiled at Douglas, who returned it. "Five-three, in my favour."

"Ben Barnes. Double points for alliteration."

"No way! That's not fair! That would give you six points for Ben and the two Brians."

"It would, wouldn't it?" He hummed. "Even you would have to agree that the ability to name actors where both names begin with the same letter is pretty impressive and, therefore, worth extra points."

"Five-seven." Martin wasn't going to disagree. Douglas' smirk was back. He knew he was going to win. Martin was running out of names, but even if he wasn't, he'd still let Douglas win. It was worth it to see him happy.

"We should make a friendly wager. Ten points gets the squidgy cheese?"

"Actresses, too?"

"Not unless your name is Arthur Shappey."

"Damn." Martin sighed as he struggled to think of another name. "Ben Chaplin."

"Six-seven. Sir is making a comeback. Bernard Hill."

"Ben Cross and Burn Gorman."

"Burn? Really, Martin? You're making names up now?"

"He was on 'Torchwood'. It's a Doctor Who spin-off. You can Google it when we get off the plane. Eight-all."

"Bernard Fox. Bob Hope. Ten."

#

"And... they're off!" Arthur couldn't keep calm. Passenger derby was one of his favourite parts of long flights. "Straight out of the gate, it's Sherlock Holmes and the Jolly Green Giant! Jolly Green! Sherlock Holmes! Jolly Green takes the lead! Sherlock Holmes is making his move! OH NO! They've been cut off by Gordon Ramsey! Ramsey! Jolly Green! Jolly Green just tripped over Holmes! Holmes ahead by a row! Ramsey's closing in! Holmes shuts the door in Ramsey's face! Sherlock Holmes has won the race!" Arthur popped into the flight deck. "How'd you know Sherlock Holmes was going to win, Skip?"

"He looked like he'd deduce the quickest way to the loo." He shrugged, trying to hide the excitement he felt at besting Douglas.

"Wow, Skip! You finally won a game of passenger derby! Congrats!" Arthur clapped Martin on the back before turning to Douglas. "Sorry about the Giant, Douglas."

Douglas' mouth hung open, clearly shocked by Martin's win. Martin never won anything. "You're always accusing me of cheating, Sir. How'd you know Holmes would win?" He handed Martin five quid. A bet was a bet and Douglas Richardson never squelched on a bet. Martin let his fingers brush against Douglas' for as long as he could without drawing attention to himself. Douglas noticed that Martin held onto the note for longer than was necessary and he was pretty sure it wasn't an accident. He wondered what was going on in Martin's head.

"He has long legs, longer than the Giant's. Ramsey was the wild card, but I was more confident with Sherlock. One should never underestimate the speed at which a high functioning sociopath will head to the loo after a game of passenger derby."

"'Doctor Who' and 'Sherlock'? I didn't even think you owned a telly."

"I don't, but this year some of the students chipped in and bought a small one for the common area. Sometimes, I go downstairs and watch programmes with them. Amanda likes 'Sherlock' and Nick is a 'Doctor Who' fan. Nick actually likes the show so much he went to a convention in Cardiff!"

"Send him my condolences."

Martin couldn't help but look at Douglas out of the corner of his eye as the older man turned back to the control panel. He was kind of prickly, and not always as nice to Martin as he could be, but it didn't mean that Martin liked seeing him so heartbroken. Martin knew, deep down, that this was no longer a schoolboy crush. He was in love with Douglas and he'd do whatever it took to make him feel better. "Douglas, I-I-I want you to know I'm very sorry about the divorce."

"Martin, please stop apologising." Douglas sighed, his shoulders bowed. "Helena and I were over long before you ever caught me in my Captain's epaulets. We... we just didn't work out." He sounded tired. "I was feeling a bit better, but then I remembered that I need to start looking for a flat when we get back to Fitton. It's hard. I never thought I'd be single again. The third time was supposed to be the charm."

Martin reached out and touched Douglas on the arm. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through his body. "If you need to talk..."

Douglas shook him off. "I'm. Fine. Sir." A hurt look flickered over Martin's face so quickly, Douglas wasn't sure if it was a figment of his imagination. He hadn't meant to hurt the young man. He was just tired of being reminded of his failed marriage. "I'm sorry."

Martin cut him off before he could say anything else. "It's fine, Douglas. It's all fine." Douglas would have bet a month of his salary that it wasn't really fine. Instead of pushing on, he let it go. Martin was already upset; anything Douglas could say was just going to make Martin feel worse than he already did.