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Martin was significantly less than thrilled to discover that it was raining over Fitton as they made their approach. It certainly wouldn't be his first rainy landing, but that didn't make him any happier. At least, if worse came to worst, there was Douglas right beside him, ready to take control should the need arise. Karl certainly wasn't helpful as he welcomed the crew home and told them to watch out for the "bit of drizzle." Drizzle by Karl's standards was a regular monsoon to Martin's.
Martin made the landing safely, and certainly not too badly. How funny to think that he was more adept to landing under poor conditions (you know, like with a broken goose-blender still attached to the side of his plane) than in perfect ones. He was a creature who worked best under pressure, he truly was.
"Good work, Martin," Douglas said lightly as he gathered up his things. "See you on the morrow."
"Oh, come on," Martin groaned, barely containing the smile. "I won the bet, you get the paperwork!"
Douglas grimaced.
"Martin, we made that bet three days ago, surely it doesn't—"
"Nope, there's no getting out of this one, Douglas," Martin said cheerfully, letting loose with the smile that been hovering round the edges.
"I'll give you landings for a month if—"
"Douglas, the sooner you do it, the sooner it gets done," Martin intoned, quoting his father from so long ago. The older man sighed and pulled his jacket over his head as he prepared to dash out of the plane and to the Portakabin and its waiting paperwork. Martin took a slightly more leisurely approach, walking slowly to the cabin where Arthur was cleaning up. The steward looked up at his captain and grinned.
"That was a great landing, Skip," he said exuberantly, putting a piece of rubbish into the bin bag in his hands. Martin preened a little under his husband's words.
"Thank you, Arthur." He studied the small mess that the passengers had made, and his brilliant steward cleaning it up. "Would you like me to help?"
"Oh, only if you want, Skip," Arthur said. His face crinkled into a large smile. Martin leaned in and kissed him.
"I always want to help."
They stood staring at each other like dopes for a moment before Martin straightened up and clapped his hands together.
"What would you have me do, O Mighty Steward?" Arthur laughed brightly, and it sank into Martin's weary bones like sunlight. That was one of the (many (many)) things Martin absolutely loved about Arthur. His laugh, his crinkly smilie, his soft belly, his height (which was perfect because Arthur could tuck Martin close and rest his chin on Martin's head and positively envelop him), his smell, very nearly everything.
They worked though the cabin and galley in an easy, companionable silence borne of four years together, two of which were spent as a married couple. Once they were done and everything was put away, they doffed their caps, huddled them beneath their jackets (especially Arthur, whose hat was water soluble), and left the cabin. The rain was coming down harshly against the roof of the hangar, and they weren't quite excited to head into it. Well, Martin wasn't. Arthur was Arthur.
The tarmac had several soft indentations that were perfect to catch puddles. Arthur noticed this right away and immediately jumped into one, the splash rising to mark his pants up to the knees. His smile was like sunlight escaping the torrent above.
"Arthur, what on earth are you doing?" Martin called, shielding his eyes against the rain and splash as Arthur jumped into another puddle.
"Puddle jumping!" Arthur cried excitedly. He'd found a third, and it was large enough cover him, though by this point, the rain had done a fine job of soaking them through the skin. "Come on, Skip, join me!"
"I really think we should be getting inside!"
"I don't!"
Martin sighed, knowing very well by now to pick his battles. He studied his husband leaping about in the rain like a happy frog, laughing glowingly at the giant splashes he caused. And if he was being honest, it did look rather fun.
Five minutes later, Karl looked down from the tower, nibbling around a crisp and watching the Crieff-Shappey couple jumping around the tarmac like silly fools.
He was still smiling as he headed home.