"No, Arthur. We're not playing yellow car right now," Martin objected.
"Ohh, but why not skip? It would be fun!"
"Because we're on an aeroplane. There aren't usually many yellow cars in the sky, are there?"
Arthur had to think about this for a moment, before he answered sadly, "Yeah, I think you're probably right, skip."
"Probably?" mumbled Douglas, but then he turned around to Arthur. "Tell you what, why don't we play The Traveling Lemon later on? There's still almost two hours to pass 'til we arrive at Fitton."
Arthur's face lit up in an instant. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed.
"Mhm, yes, I thought so. Now why don't you go and prepare us something to eat?"
"Righto," Arthur answered and left for the galley.
Finally, Martin and Douglas were alone in the flight deck, and they sat in comfortable silence. Douglas looked over to Martin, who didn't seem to notice. Two whole days had gone by without Douglas having made any progress on the bet with Carolyn whatsoever. Well, he had tried, but getting to spend some alone time with Martin had proven more difficult than Douglas had expected. When they had flown a young couple to Rome for their honeymoon, Douglas had asked Martin out for dinner, who of course hadn't thought about it as a date, and had invited Arthur to join them. Arthur. Instead of going to that fantastic restaurant on top of the Spanish Steps Douglas had had in mind, they ended up in a cheap bistro in some dark alley. So much for their romantic evening.
Since the bet, Douglas had been a bit nicer to Martin than usual (not too much though, as if not to raise any suspicions - and maybe also partly because Martin was just too good at getting teased to stop doing so completely), and he had even let him win at some of the games they were playing. And he had tried to get Martin to talk about personal stuff, which had failed, firstly because Douglas didn't like to share any of his own personal life with Martin, and secondly because Martin suspected some sort of a trap and didn't want to offer his first officer any more teasing material.
No, what Douglas needed was an actual date with Martin. It was time for another attempt.
"So, captain, any plans for tomorrow?" he asked. After that flight from Rome back to England, the two pilots had four days off because there weren't any bookings for MJN Air. Carolyn had wanted them to stay home in Fitton though, in case any last minute bookings came in.
"Yeah, I got a moving job, actually," answered Martin, his voice sounding both proud and already tired from the work ahead. "The next two days I'll be busy driving back and forth between Fitton and Chippenham."
"Ah," Douglas said. "And what about Wednesday then?"
"I'll… probably just stay at home, why?"
"Well, I was thinking since you are always going on and on about Duxford Air Museum, maybe it's time that I finally get to visit it myself. I was wondering if you cared to join me."
Martin looked a bit startled, but happy nonetheless. "Y-y-ye-yes, um, I mean, that would be great!"
"Good," Douglas said, satisfied. "I'll pick you up at, let's say, ten."
Douglas stood in front of his captain and looked at him. He had stopped listening to Martin's never ending explanations of the various details and advantages of the exhibited planes at the museum a while ago, and instead took in the sight of the younger man, almost as if he saw him for the first time. The red hair, the freckles, the high cheekbones, the green-blueish eyes… Stop it, he told himself. You're getting ridiculous. But nevertheless, he couldn't help but admit that Martin looked … good today, very good in fact. And he was obviously very pleased with himself about knowing that much about the exhibition, and happy that there was someone whom he could share this knowledge with. Douglas smiled, because he, too, was happy.
Later Martin sat at the table in Douglas's kitchen, who was standing in front of the oven to finish up dinner. He had invited Martin to come to his house, because he knew that his captain would never allow Douglas to pay for an expensive meal at a restaurant, and neither could Martin afford it himself. So a home-cooked meal it was.
"Buon appetito!" Douglas put a plate with lasagne in front of Martin. He remembered Martin's longing looks towards his own lasagne at the bistro in Rome, because all Martin could afford was a more than ordinary sandwich. Martin's happy expression as he tasted the food was enough to reward Douglas for the effort of preparing the meal.
After a few moments of comfortable silence, Martin hesitantly asked, "So… how are you doing, Douglas? Since the divorce, I mean." Since Douglas didn't answer, Martin tried to backpedal. "I-I mean, you don't have to talk about it, of course, not to me anyway, I was just-"
"No, Martin, it's fine," Douglas interrupted. "I was just thinking about how to answer your question. I'm doing … alright, I'd say. Quite alright."
"Oh, okay." Martin relaxed again, now that he knew he hadn't offended Douglas. "I'm sure there'll be other women."
"Or men," Douglas said. Martin, who had just taken a sip from his wine, choked and started coughing. His face, even his ears turned completely red, and he avoided Douglas's eye. Douglas realized that he had probably gone a bit too far with his comment, and tried to ease the atmosphere with some jokes. Nevertheless, Martin stayed very reserved the rest of the evening and finished his meal quickly.
When Douglas guided him towards the door, Martin turned around to his first officer and asked, "What exactly was today all about, Douglas?"
Douglas looked back into Martin's eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I mean ... you joining me for a visit to Duxford Air Museum - asking me to go there with you, in fact - and now dinner… If I didn't knew better I would almost call it a date."
"Almost?" asked Douglas, and Martin's face turned completely red yet again.
"D-d-do you mean this - was - in fact - a … date?" Martin asked.
"It was whatever you want it to be, Martin. I don't want to push you into anything you don't feel comfortable with. I simply wanted to spend some time with you, that's all."
"I-is it?" asked Martin, more to himself than to Douglas, it seemed. "Well, thank you, I suppose. It was quite a nice day, wasn't it?" Martin hesitantly smiled at Douglas.
Douglas smiled back at him. "Yes, really, quite a nice day," he said, and he meant it.