A/N: Thank you for following, somethingpink! Here comes the third chapter. Enjoy!

The next night, Douglas was just in the middle of falling asleep when his phone started ringing. With a sigh Douglas opened his eyes and looked at the screen. Martin.

Douglas picked up the phone. "Yes, hello Martin?"

"Hi, is this Douglas?" a voice asked which definitely wasn't Martin's but sounded familiar nevertheless.

"Yes," answered Douglas, "who do I have the pleasure of talking to at such a perfectly normal time for a phone call?"

"Yeah, sorry, this is Carl." Of course. "Could you come and pick up Martin?"

The noisy chatter in the background made it difficult for Douglas to understand what Carl said. "Martin? Why?"

"He's dead drunk, won't even tell me his address, otherwise I simply would have called a cab. We're at The Witch's Inn."

"Alright, I'll be there in ten minutes," answered Douglas and hung up the phone.

Reluctantly he got out of his bed, put on some clothes and stepped out into the drizzling rain. He got in his car and drove over to the pub. When he got there, he spotted Martin immediately and walked towards him. He sat in a corner next to Carl and some other men that Douglas didn't know. As soon as Martin saw Douglas, he tried to get up and walk towards him, but stumbled and surely would have fallen to the ground if Douglas hadn't caught him at the last second.

"Ah, Douglas," Martin slurred and poked his finger in Douglas's arm, "I'm glad to see you here."

"Oh hell Martin, you're supposed to fly tomorrow!" Douglas turned to Carl. "How much did he have?"

"I don't know, he already was pretty drunk when we came here," answered Carl. "Started to talk to me about aviation and … some other stuff." Douglas wondered what else drunk Martin had blabbed about - maybe about his charming first officer, Douglas hoped and feared at the same time.

"We better head off then, thanks for calling," Douglas said, and guided Martin to the door. He helped him into the front passenger seat of his car (although Martin of course had to protest, and insisted that he was well able to get into that bloody car by himself), and then sat down behind the steering wheel. He turned to look at Martin.

"Now, Martin, please tell me where you live so I can get you home."

Martin looked away. "No, you wouldn't want to go there, it's -" he hiccuped, "bloody awful."

"Oh come on Martin, I don't want to sit in this car park all night."

"Fine," Martin gave in. "Just drive towards the town centre and turn left at the next traffic light."

When they reached the house, Douglas inwardly agreed with Martin. The place was bloody awful.

"Okay, th-th-thanks for driving me," Martin said, and made an effort to open the door.

"What, do you think I'll just leave you here in the rain? You can barely even walk." Douglas hurried around to the other side of the car to support Martin on his way to the front door of the house.

Douglas opened the door with Martin's keys and found the house completely in dark.

"Semester break," mumbled Martin, while Douglas turned on the light.

The inside of the place was even messier than the outside. Douglas had to bite his lip to not comment on it. Instead, he asked Martin where his room was. "Didn't you say it was in the attic?"

Martin nodded, and together they approached the narrow staircase.

Even when seen only from the doorstep, Martin's room looked much worse than Douglas had expected. On one wall, there was a simple wooden bed, with a shelf next to it on which Martin kept his clothes. On the wall opposite the bed there was the old flight simulator Martin had spoken about, beside it a few piles of folders and the few books Martin possessed. That was it.

"Go ahead, just make fun of me," said Martin, who had studied Douglas's face while he had looked around the tiny room.

Douglas looked at Martin, who still clung to his arm for balance. Only now did he notice the close proximity to him, the warmth of his body.

"I'm not making fun of it," Douglas said earnestly, as his and Martin's eyes locked. Martin took a deep breath, and then in one quick move crashed his lips on Douglas's.

When Martin pulled his lips back, Douglas was too baffled to say anything, his usually sharp brain completely blank.

"Martin, I…"

Martin took a step backwards and looked at Douglas with big eyes that were full of panic. "Oh God, Douglas, I - I'm sorry, I - I don't know what I was thinking," he stammered.

"No, Martin, that's not what-"

"I'm such an idiot," Martin said, and reached for the doorknob. "Thank you for driving me home." And with that, he closed the door right in front of Douglas.