Ok, I promise this is the last interlude before Series 4 arrives - 15's a good number to round things off for now.

So, prepare yourselves, here is the chapter

Interlude 15

High in the air and still half way across the Pacific, the atmosphere on GERTI wasn't the brightest it had even been; in fact, things were slowly stumbling into the grounds of boring, and even Martin's thoughtful murmurings as he tried to think up a game of his own didn't do much more than maintain a stagnating quiet.

An elderly couple had moved from New York to Hawaii, and had somehow managed to hire MJN to fly all of their possessions to their new island home; how they had discovered the company was a mystery, but Carolyn's usual eye rolls and scoffs were absent. If Deborah hadn't been too wrapped up in her own happiness, then she might have said that Carolyn was behaving like the family of a loved one that was spiralling inevitably into its demise; as it was, she refused to entertain the idea that anything could permanently cripple MJN.

But it wasn't just Carolyn who seemed a little dejected during that particular flight; Arthur, for all his smiles and interjections, only really spoke when it was necessary, and spent only the minimal time in the flight-deck as he needed to, turning down their offers of games with just a smile and not even an excuse.

"Okay, how about-" Martin began, taking one hand from the controls of point through the air between them, throwing Deborah a sideways glance; he looked eager and proud of himself, but Deborah was too preoccupied by Arthur's droopy attitude to take pity on him as she was wont to lately, even with all of the tricks that Martin had been developing to get her to do what he wanted.

"If this is another game involving landing procedures and various airports then I'm not interested." Deborah drawled, smiling fondly across at him nonetheless; as she sprawled back as best as she could within the constriction of her seat, she hoped that she gave off an air of suave tiredness with the current state of affairs.

"Not even if…?" Martin's confidence didn't waver even though his cheeks flushed a bit, making it clear that he still thought that he had even a chance at winning as he turned his head fully to cock his eyebrow and meet her eyes suggestively; his hand bridged the gap between them, and his fingers began to curl over hers, promising later treats.

"Naughty Captain Crieff," Deborah scolded him lightly, withdrawing her hand from his and making a show of adjusting the controls slightly, keeping one eye on the defeated scowl that flashed briefly across his lips, "As if I couldn't get that whenever I pleased."

"Fine!" Martin huffed, though there was no real heat behind it; his shoulders sagged and he reached up to push the rim of his hat further down his forehead, securing it over his hair, "You can pick today's game." Deborah smirked, and Martin pursed his lips, waggling a finger at her, "Oh, you can laugh now, but next time we'll be playing one of my games, and I'll be laughing when I win."

"Whatever you say, Darling." Deborah replied, allowing a low laugh to escape her lips as she settled back and began to scheme; Martin sighed deeply as he shook his head, but didn't have time to say whatever it was that the devious scrunch of his nose promised.

The door to the flight-deck swept open, and Arthur bustled in, his arms full, hands occupied by the plastic mugs and a pack of biscuits tucked between his elbow and his chest; he was doing nothing that might suggest anything was wrong, what was worrying was what he wasn't doing.

"Hi chaps! I have a Martin's coffee, and a Deborah's coffee." Arthur raised each mug into the air as he named them, and placed them one by one into the cup holders, his smile growing a little wider when both pilots nodded gratefully and thanked him; then he dropped the biscuits into Martin's outstretched hands and stood back, resting an arm over the backs of both of the seats.

"Hm, yes, this is good." Deborah noted, taking a second sip of her drink, wrapping his fingers around the warmth that seeped through the solid exterior; she glanced over her shoulder to meet Arthur's gaze, pleased to see that his expression brightened in surprise, "You got it spot on this time."

"Really?" Arthur exclaimed doubtfully; Deborah glanced pointedly at Martin, who nodded quickly, making Arthur's eyes light up and his chest puff out imperceptibly, "Well, I have had years of practice."

"It's excellent Arthur." Martin assured him through his teeth, placing his own coffee down; he exchanged another glance with Deborah, and then turned around to address Arthur, while Deborah took over watching the skies for him, "Do you have any ideas for games?"

"Oh, yeah, lots." Arthur answered simply, tapping his fingers over the back of their seats; Deborah thought that he didn't sound as enthusiastic as he should have, but knew that she shouldn't really spend too much time looking instead of focusing, even though she did sneak a peek at his reminiscent pallor, "But I've already suggested them all to you, and you didn't like any of them."

"That doesn't normally stop you." Deborah muttered, loud enough for Martin to hear; feeling guilty in less than a second, she sighed, and pursed her lips, flicking a broken switch for the sake of something to do, "Well, what about funny stories? Do you have any of those?"

"Not any new ones, and you've heard all my old ones." Arthur told them regretfully, shaking his head, definitely sounding far less chirpy than usual; with a small exhale, he pushed away from the seats and pressed his hands together, "You know, I'm quite tired today…I think I'm going to go sit in the cabin for a bit. Call if you need anything."

With that he was gone, striding through the open door, letting it fall closed behind him before either pilot could bid him farewell; in his wake, there remained only the whirring hum of GERTI's engines, and when Deborah turned back in her seat, it was to find Martin looking to her with dipped eyebrows and thin lips.

"Do you think he's alright?" Martin inquired cautiously, his eyes flickering back to the rear of the flight-deck; his bottom lip slipped through his teeth, "He's been acting a bit off since Monday."

"I'm not sure…" Deborah replied thickly; after a moment's thought, she rose to her feet and placed a hand on Martin's shoulder, "You keep control, I'm going to go ask him, rather than ruminating in speculation."

oOoOoOo

On her way through the cabin, Deborah met Carolyn in Row B; she could just about see Arthur's head peeking out from over the top of the second to last row at the back of the plane. At the sound of her footsteps, Carolyn looked up from the paperwork that she had balanced on the fold out tray, and gestured for Deborah to stop.

"Don't you have a difficult and rather important job to be doing up front?" Carolyn asked wryly, while Deborah folded her arms over her chest and looked down at her, deciding against sitting, "Or has the service bell just broken again?"

"I thought I'd come and visit Arthur actually." Deborah remarked, stealing another glance towards the unusually quiet mass at the back of the plane; now that she thought about it, it had been a while since she had gone out of her way to interact with Arthur. She could blame it on distraction, but Deborah couldn't escape the pang of guilt in her guts.

"Oh thank god, perhaps you can talk him round." Carolyn groaned, pushing her papers onto the seat beside her and placing a hand over her forehead in exasperation; that was either worrying or comforting, but there was little to sway the balance either way, "He's been driving me mad since the weekend."

"Is he alright?" Deborah asked, lowering her voice so as to not be overheard, though the last thing anyone would suspect Arthur of would be eavesdropping; she was reluctant to let Carolyn know that she was worried, but given the circumstances, she could endure.

"He's fine," Carolyn assured her, grouching as she stood and shuffled into the aisle; she peered briefly towards her son, but simply sighed, shrugged, and met Deborah's gaze again, "He's not sad, he's just not particularly happy. Do something about that."

Deborah nodded as she stepped aside to let the other woman pass, and watched Carolyn's back until she disappeared into the Galley; once again she had been left under the assumption that she could fix all ails. Closing her eyes momentarily to make the most of a second of peace, Deborah wandered down the aisle to where Arthur was sitting, as nonchalantly as possible.

Arthur was slouched in his chosen seat, feet resting against the back of the seat in front, playing a shiny sort of game on his phone; he looked up and smiled when Deborah slipped into the seat beside him, and tucked the phone into his pocket, folding his arms loosely over his lap.

"You alright Deborah?" he asked, his eyes flickering over her inquisitively; Deborah nodded hastily, pursing her lips and pushing her hair behind her ears, but that only seemed to bewilder Arthur further, "It's just I thought you were supposed to be flying the plane."

"Martin'll be alright on his own for a bit." Deborah batted her hand through the air and quirked her eyebrows, aiming for flippancy; Arthur seemed to buy it, as he nodded in agreement, so Deborah clapped her hands together and plastered on a wry grin, "I thought I'd come and keep you company for a bit, see how you were…so…did you have a good weekend?"

There was no use beating around the bush with Arthur; he wouldn't pick up on it even if she did, so going for the crux of the matter was the wisest choice.

"Oh yeah, it was great." Arthur exclaimed, with more lacklustre than the statement required, and he didn't quite meet Deborah's eyes as the words left his mouth; instead, he watched his hands as he fiddled with his sleeves, "I spent most of Sunday with Lily, and then I dropped her off at the airport; she's going to Italy."

"That's nice for her." Deborah remarked, her voice pitched higher than her normal silkier drawl as she attempted to present optimism for once; Arthur nodded, and she rolled her shoulders back, shifting for the sake of moving, "So…that was good?"

"Yes and no." Arthur stated shortly; his elbow jostled into hers as he shrugged nonchalantly, as if brushing away the thought, not quite lying, but failing to be any good at acting unconcerned.

"How so?" Deborah prompted, nudging back in a companionable manner; she didn't want to push, but there was something truly unsettling about being around an Arthur that wasn't cheery and unburdened by the weight of the world, "I thought that kind of weekend was the pinnacle of new relationships and their success."

"Well, yes, because getting to drive her to the airport and see her off was exactly the sort of things that boyfriends do, especially when things are going really well." Arthur explained, opening up without much poking; the corner of his lips threatened to curl into a frown, but Deborah thought he seemed more resigned and accepting that resentful, "And no, because when she left, that was sort of the end of the relationship, because she's not coming back."

"What?" it took some effort for Deborah to keep her tone calm and caring, and not to simply squawk in surprise; swallowing hard and steadying her breath, she pushed a hand through her hair and carried on, "Why isn't she coming back? I thought you were doing well."

Arthur shrugged again, and smiled briefly, seemingly unable to maintain one for more than a few seconds; apparently he wasn't feeling up to much else.

"We were doing well – but you remember how months ago I told you that the library sent volunteers to Italy, and that Lily had always wanted to go to Italy," Arthur explained, his voice laced with resignation, and yet, he still sounded perfectly interested in the subject matter, "well, she was offered a place by her boss, who said that Lily might even be so good that if she stayed in Italy for a while, she might get a permanent paid position, which would be good for inspiring her writing as well."

"Oh, I see." Deborah sighed sympathetically; she raised a hand to rest comfortingly on his arm, stroking her thumb over the inside of his elbow, "I suppose she grasped at the opportunity – I would have at her age."

"No, she didn't, she was going to stay." Arthur corrected her, his eyebrows rising as they always did when he felt that he was the unexpected fount of new knowledge; as things currently stood, Deborah thought that he very well might have been, "But I convinced her that if it was something she really wanted to do, then she should forget about me and go do it…so we spent the weekend together, and then I saw her off when she got on the plane."

"Why would you do that!" Deborah demanded, throwing her hands into the air, barely taking half a second to let Arthur's words sink in; instead, she was shaking her head, ready to roll her eyes at him and call him a clot, "Why would you just let her go after you spent so long trying to get her?"

The 'but I put so much work into the two of you' went unsaid, though Deborah was sure that Arthur didn't pick up on it.

"Because that's what you do when you care about someone." Arthur answered dryly, his forehead furrowing as he turned slightly to better face Deborah, increasing the gap between them; she almost pouted as she recognised the voice he used when he thought she was being imbecilic, but restrained herself, "I told Lily to leave because I'd rather she was happy somewhere else than missing out with me."

For a moment there was only the sound of the engines outside the window, and Deborah narrowed her eyes, scanning them over his face for any sign of deception; of course, there was none, no red cheeks, no loss of balance, or badly concealed grouching. The man was actually okay with his decision; Arthur must have been more thick skinned than she thought.

"If you think that that was the right decision, then I can't fault you." Deborah remarked finally, patting Arthur's arm one last time before retracting her hand and folding it back beneath her other one; she pursed her lips and looked away, "Not that I can understand it."

"No, of course you don't; you've never been in that situation." Arthur snorted; Deborah supposed that maybe he really was okay with the way things had gone, and that perhaps he just needed time to mope, like other, normal people, "But I'm sure that if you were, you'd do the same thing."

"I think you underestimate how selfish I am." She muttered, huffing through her nose and pulling her arms a little tighter around her chest; the last thing she had wanted when coming to make Arthur feel better was an excuse for introspection, and now her generous mood was beginning to wane.

"No, I know how selfish you are." Arthur chirped cheerfully, his cheeks dimpling as his smile grew and settled into a more genuine shape; Deborah quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing, "But I think that if Martin was ever offered something better than MJN, you'd make him take it."

"Don't be ridiculous," Deborah retorted, rolling her eyes and glaring at him without fully turning her head to face him; the back of the seat in front was far more fascinating anyway, "I'm not letting go of Martin any time soon."

"Of course not, because he hasn't got any better options at the moment." Arthur concluded, as if that were a rational and decent ending to their conversation; Deborah smiled wanly in response to his proud grin, and decided that there really wasn't anything wrong with him.

"Yes, well, so long as you're alright I'm going to head back to the flight-deck." Deborah announced, inhaling sharply and rising to her feet, sliding into the aisle to allow Arthur more space to sprawl, "The Captain's probably going spare without me."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Arthur replied, shrugging and rolling his head to the side in a show of floppy casualness; perhaps it was a bit too forced, but Arthur was an adult, and he was allowed his moments of introspection, "I reckon I just need to be alone with my thoughts for a bit."

"Are there a lot of those then?" Deborah shot back, smirking as Arthur's eyes glazed over momentarily, and then his face lit up as he caught one it was good to restore the natural balance of things.

"More than usual." Arthur replied, and tapped the side of his nose, misusing a gesture that he must have seen somebody else using; he added a wink, and somehow it was enough to life Deborah's spirits and reassure her as to her friend's emotional state.

"Okay…" Deborah trailed off, rocking on her heels, still unwilling to walk away; she kept her arms securely over her chest as if that might help to centre her mind, but nothing came save for words of honest comfort, "…you know where I am if you change your mind."

Once Arthur had responded with an affirmative statement and a nod, Deborah made her way back to the flight-deck, passing Carolyn in the Galley where she may or may not have been listening in from; they shared a brief, gravely redundant stare, and then went their separate ways.

Now that it was certain that Arthur was out of action so to speak, Deborah lost all hope of the flight becoming a cheerier and more entertaining occasion; the only way that that would happen was if Martin dreamed up something truly miraculous.

oOoOoOo

Since Deborah and Martin's relationship had become public, Carolyn had taken great joy from the fact that she didn't need to pay for separate rooms (despite the fact that she hadn't been doing so for at least a year and a half); Deborah couldn't fault her, as the slight non-change did mean that the company could remain mostly afloat.

In truth, the two of them barely noticed the sleeping arrangements on overnight flights; in the past two months, they hardly spent more than two nights a week in separate beds. Not because they were particularly 'active' (although, there were occasions that Deborah wouldn't dream of divulging, as the honeymoon period still hadn't quite simmered, as miraculous as that sounded). No, it was just that fact that more often than not, they'd spend the day together, or Martin would finish a van job only to make his way to her flat and pass out beside her.

While Deborah lay on her stomach, flicking through the television channels for some sort of repeat (there were always vintage shows on the older channels, no matter what country they were in), Martin lay back beside her, propped up against the headboard, one hand rubbing circles into her ankle while the other moved up and down, as he raised and lowered his book in agitation.

Deborah ignored the movement, knowing that Martin would only deny his behaviour until he was ready to divulge his distemper, he would; even so, the light pressure on her ankle was a tad distracting, and it made channel surfing that much more difficult.

"I keep thinking about poor old Arthur." Martin declared abruptly, letting his book fall onto the covers beside him; Deborah pressed her lips together and rolled over so that she could sit facing him, their legs knocking together, "It's sad that him and Lily didn't work out."

"Yes it is sad, but it was Arthur's decision and he's coping well with the repercussions." Deborah replied drolly; she let her hand swing down to Martin's, and took it in hers, giving him an encouraging squeeze to dissipate his angst, "Which means that it's none of our business anymore."

"I know." Martin said hastily, nodding; his cheeks tinged pink, and Deborah quirked an eyebrow, making him huff in defeat and bite at his bottom lip, flinging his hands into the air either side of him, "It's just – it's like when someone else's family members die, and you start getting clingy with your own. Arthur's relationship died, and now it's making me sad as well."

"Oh, Martin, I'm not going anywhere." Deborah groaned, rolling her eyes fondly and putting on an affectionate smile; Martin didn't look convinced, so she released his hand and crawled over his legs, coming to kneel over him, letting her arms slide around his shoulders as his eyes followed hers, his hands coming to rest at her waist, "You're stuck with me."

"I know that." Martin sighed, pulling her further onto his lap, into a tighter embrace, stopping just past the vicinity of a hug; Deborah stroked her fingers over his back, content to allow him just that piece of comfort before he shifted back, pouting sheepishly, "It's still quite sad though…for him…"

Exhaling at length, and closing her eyes so as not to seem callous by rolling them, Deborah sat back on her heels, ignoring the dejected little sound that Martin made when the space between them increased; of course the day wasn't over until she had fixed everything for everyone.

Deborah pushed back her sleeve to glance at her watch face, and pursed her lips in thought, while Martin shifted and squirmed beneath her, relaxing into the mediocre mattress.

"It's not too late in the evening." She remarked dryly, smirking when Martin's eyebrows knitted in bewilderment, "I suppose that if you knocked on Arthur's door he'd be happy to pop down to one of the many bars the island has to offer and cheer the both of you up with some of those florescent monstrosities they call drinks."

"That's a great idea actually." Martin murmured, the bridge of his nose scrunching adorably as he ducked his head and narrowed his eyes as if deep in thought; there was no doubt that he had been convinced, and Deborah waited patiently as he stirred up the impulse to ask in a tease, "Are you going to come along as well…as a sort of designated driver?"

"You mean am I going to come and make sure that the two of you don't get so inebriated that you fall in the sea?" Deborah retorted, quirking an eyebrow sardonically; Martin sighed and shook his head, a small smile curling the corner of his lips, which made her chuckle lowly, and she leaned forwards again to pinch playfully at the sides of his chest, "I suppose I can, if you think that you'll enjoy the colourful drinks that much."

"No, just, just so that you're there." Martin replied, flicking the back of his hand lightly against her waist, a coy smile stretching his lips into his cheeks, making the corners of his eyes crinkle; when Deborah didn't reply immediately, he pulled her closer, until their noses were only an inch away, "Please…"

He was terrible at prevaricating, and Deborah could see straight through his mental stumbling; and yet, Martin's unwillingness to be too far away from her, even for the sake of cheering Arthur up, was comforting, especially after the churning sense of introspection that she had purged earlier in the day. Still held gently and securely, Martin's hands now resting one on her waist, one on her thigh, patiently waiting for her response, Deborah was grateful for his apparent synchronicity.

"Fine," Deborah agreed, emphasising her faux exasperation as she swung herself from his lap, "Unless you're going out in your pyjamas, I suggest you get dressed."

Martin leapt up sluggishly, with the amount of vigour that was appropriate given a long day's exhaustion and an hour or so of slouching around a hotel room, digging through his flight-bag for a pair of jeans and a shirt that made up his usual 'casual' wear when on trips.

While the sounds of Martin bustling around and huffing as he caught his toes on the furniture filled the room, Deborah reached across to take her phone from the bedside table and dialled the first third number on the recent calls list.

"Arthur!" Deborah exclaimed when the dial tone ended with a click, and her ear was filled instead with the sound of crackly echoes; she winked at Martin when he turned at the sound of her voice, nodding for him to carry on as he was, "Get your coat; Martin and I are taking you down the bar for drinks and a fun night out – our treat." Then after a moment's thought, "You can even bring your Mum if you want."

The response was enough to convince Deborah of their impending triumph, and that even of Arthur was miserable now, he wouldn't be for much longer.

"Aw, brilliant!"

*Watching through gritted teeth* How was that?

I know a lot of people were thrilled at Arthur and Lily's relationship, so I hope this wasn't too painful.

And as for the rest of it, I think that was alright (the narrative's a bit clunky today, but not so much that I could noticably change it)...