It was a small airport, and the landing wasn't exactly easy. It was very windy after all. Douglas seemed to recognize this and took the landing. Martin was just pleased he didn't announce 'I HAVE CONTROL' to everyone. It seemed like something Douglas would do.
The cargo they brought was picked up, and once Gerti was checked over and locked down for the night, the crew of MJN air piled in a car to the hotel. A hotel that wasn't even in the small town they'd landed in. No, they had to travel to another, smaller town, because that was where Carolyn had gotten the best deal for hotels. Martin couldn't even pronounce it, those strange Norwegian names with their funny letters.
Still, it was a half hour car ride through Norway (in the winter, had he mentioned that?) in a rent-a-car with broken heating.
Which was just brilliant.
Martin was pretty sure he fell asleep, since the ride went by awfully fast, and he didn't hear Arthur yell yellow car even once.
In this case, hotel was not quite the right word. It was more like someone's really large house that they rented rooms out by the night.
Martin's room was small and dark, but it had a bed, and that was really all he needed.
It was cold too, but he supposed that was to be expected, Norway in the winter and everything.
He threw his bag on the bed, fiddled with the buttons on the thermostat until he was sure he'd turned it up (or perhaps even gone a bit far, to roasting), and went to take a very, very, hot shower.
The shower was hot, thankfully, and Martin must have stood in there for half an hour, just letting his body soak up all that warmth. The steam felt nice to his lungs, much better than the biting air that faced him every time he ventured outside the airplane, his van (although his van wasn't much warmer), and his attic (ditto).
He was a bit reluctant to get out, but he was precariously close to falling asleep standing up, and with his luck, would have passed out, hit his head on the way down, fallen unconscious, and drowned in an inch of water.
The shock of going from the steamy and warm bathroom back to the room, which had not at all warmed up, and... well, it was shocking.
His pyjamas were old, and rather thin for braving what felt like, at best, springish temperatures.
There was a knock at the door.
Not Arthur, because he insisted on using a secret knock. Probably not Carolyn, since she would have most likely used the key card to get in.
Which only left... Douglas.
What would he want?
Martin swung the door open.
"What do you want Douglas?"
"Just checking to see how Sir was doing. Arthur had been slightly concerned you overhydrated yourself and dissolved."
Martin frowned. "Really?"
"No."
Martin left Douglas standing in the doorway and threw himself on the bed.
"It's rather... crisp in here."
"Yes, it bloody well is."
Douglas stood in the doorway to Martin's room. It was slightly more than 'crisp', and he had so mildly put it. If anything, it was bordering on frigid.
"Is your room this cold Douglas?" he asked.
Douglas swept his eyes over the room. "No. Although I suspect you could sleep in an igloo and it wouldn't be this cold."
"Really? They have those here?" Martin heard Arthur speak, but didn't see him.
Douglas sighed. "No Arthur. Why are you listening in on us anyway?"
Arthur shifted so Martin could see him in the doorway as well. He was dressed in red footy pyjamas.
"I was bored. And Mum made me leave her room."
"Nice... erm... pyjamas you've got there," Martin stuttered.
Arthur beamed. "I got them for Christmas! Which is my equal favourite holiday-"
"Yes, we know," Douglas cut him off, sighing.
"Skip, why is your room colder than an igloo?"
Martin groaned. "I don't know Arthur."
"You could share with me. Or Douglas! Right?"
Douglas frowned. "I suppose. Although if Carolyn is paying good money for these rooms, they should be habitable."
Martin snorted. "That's funny. Good money."
Douglas smirked. "It's nice to know you haven't coughed up your sense of humour."
"No, just about everything else though."
"Come on Skip! I'll sleep on the floor and you can have the bed and it will be like a sleepover, or maybe that time we slept in Gerti in the snow, except better because this time no one will step on me!"
Martin considered it. He was tempted. But Arthur tended to talk in his sleep, and Martin knew he wasn't going to sleep well as it was.
"Thanks Arthur, but I think I'll stay here. Maybe an extra blanket?..." he trailed off, looking down at his worn pyjamas.
"I have an extra set of pyjamas if you want to borrow them!" Arthur chirped.
"Do they have... feet?"
"Of course! They're blue though. I didn't get them for Christmas. I got them for one of my other equal favourite holidays-"
"Alright," Martin agreed, even if it was just to get Arthur to shut up. "I'd love to borrow them."
"Righto. Be right back!"
Arthur scurried off down the hall towards his room.
Douglas looked back at Martin.
"You really are looking dreadful Martin. Are you sure you want to stay in here? I don't think Carolyn would be pleased about having to wait for you to defrost before you could fly out in the morning."
Martin sighed. "Really Douglas, I'll be fine."
Of course, any real meaning that sentence had was ruined as soon as he began coughing.
He finished and glared at Douglas, who only smirked.
Arthur reappeared with a blue bundle, which he threw at Martin.
"Here you go Skip!"
Martin unfolded them. It wasn't what he expected. It was worse. The pyjamas, while blue and containing feet, would have been fine if they weren't adorned with tiny aeroplanes.
"Thanks Arthur," he said weakly.
And of course he had to wear them. Arthur's heart would be broken otherwise.