Archive of Our Own ^beta

Martin stands on the wet pavement outside his apartment waiting for the taxi to arrive and take him to Fitton Airport. Normally the thought of going to work - his real work even if he doesn't get paid for it - fills him with a sense of anticipation and pride. But not on this grey, drizzly morning. True, they're flying to sunny Orlando, Florida, ferrying a group of vacationers seeking escape from the gloom of winter, but it means he's working on his birthday. The injustice of this has put him in a grumpy mood, mainly because it's unjust for him to consider it an injustice. Hasn't he always claimed that birthdays are unimportant, a meaningless milestone? Why should it bother him, when he's doing what he loves more than anything in the world?

The taxi arrives, and Martin climbs into the front passenger seat. I'm not Arthur, he tells himself after giving the driver a terse greeting and settling back. He conveniently forgets the impromptu Christmas-in-the-flight-deck, the game of Yellow Car, and the many other times his inner child escaped under Arthur's influence. The fact is, deep down inside, his birthday does matter to him. More, he's always wished someone would hold a surprise party for him, complete with streamers, confetti, noise-makers and people in ridiculous party hats jumping out and yelling, "Surprise!" He wouldn't even mind if he got a fishcake with cigarette candles like Carolyn (as long as that brat Kieran was nowhere in sight).

Only, his family doesn't do surprise parties, he has no friends outside his job, and he's been very careful not to let Douglas or (especially) Arthur know when his birthday is. Unlike Arthur's birthday, written in red block letters outlined by glittery stars and hearts, it's not on the wall chart. It is in his file, of course, but Martin has no fears (or hopes) that Carolyn will ever think to check. It's definitely not her style.

Martin gnaws on a thumbnail and broods until the taxi makes its second stop, at Douglas's house. Douglas is, for once, on time. "Good morning," he says with unwonted brightness as he joins Martin inside the taxi.

"What's good about it?" grumps Martin.

"Quoth the Captain. Everything tickety-boo, Martin?" Douglas inquires.

"Of course. Why shouldn't it be?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you sound as if you're auditioning for the part of antonym to Arthur in the OED. Definitely not cheerful, in other words."

"Oh very funny, Douglas. Are you ready for the briefing?"

"I can hardly contain my excitement, Little Captain Sunshine."

Martin ignores him, gives him the briefing - light clouds, alternate Tampa, Martin flies out, Douglas back - and then subsides into silence until they reach the airport. Douglas, for a wonder, stays shut up, too, seeming content to rest on his sarcasm laurels for the remainder of the drive.

They're walking to the MJN office when Martin's mobile rings. He stops to answer it, waving Douglas on. It's his sister Caitlin, calling to wish him a happy birthday. He's a bit surprised, but also pleased. Relations with his sister are uneasy at best, and to get a call this early in the day means he's currently on her good side.

"So what are you doing today?" she asks him.

"Flying an airplane," Martin replies succinctly and rather snidely.

"If you're going to be like that, Martin, you'll make me sorry I called," Cat says.

"No, I'm sorry, Cat. It's just..." Martin shrugs. "You know I'm not much for birthdays."

"It doesn't sound like it to me. Where are you flying to?"

"Orlando."

"Ooh, sunshine and warm weather. Lucky you. I can think of worse places to spend a birthday."

She has a point. "So can I," he concedes. "Cat, I don't mean to cut you off, but..."

"You have to go fly your plane."

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, say hello to Mickey and Goofy for me when you get to Florida."

I wish, Martin thinks, but there won't be time to visit with Mickey, Goofy and company, much as he'd love to. It seems whenever they fly to Orlando, they have to turn right around and leave. It sucks. He's always wanted to go to Disney World.

They ring off, and Martin pockets his mobile and walks to the office. He turns the door handle, pushes inward, and-

"SURPRISE!" Carolyn, Douglas and Arthur jump out at him, throwing handfuls of confetti and blowing on noise makers. They are wearing incredibly ridiculous birthday hats, and the waiting area is bedecked with balloons and streamers and a giant banner bearing the message 'Happy Birthday, Martin!'

"Happy Birthday, Skip!" Arthur is beaming like someone's mad uncle.

Martin is utterly dumbstruck for a few seconds, his mouth hanging open like a fish's while glittery bits of confetti flutter to the ground. Douglas, camera at the ready, records his reaction for posterity. Then Martin flushes bright red and stammers, "B-but how d-did you know?" A smile of Arthurian proportions breaks free. A surprise party! For him!

"I asked Mum ages ago," says Arthur. "I mean, I knew you must have a birthday. Everybody does."

"Even Martins," puts in Douglas.

"Douglas..." Carolyn warns. "I looked up the date in your file and we planned this surprise for you. Now come and open your present."

"Present? You guys shouldn't have." But there's not an ounce of conviction in his voice. He wants to run at the gaily wrapped box on the table and tear the paper off with Arthur calibre abandon.

"That's what I told Carolyn and Arthur, but they insisted," Douglas says.

"Don't listen to him, Skip. He's the one who came up with the idea for your present."

"Did he?" Martin looks at Douglas, who affects a nonchalant air.

"Well, someone had to. Arthur wanted us to give you a Playmobil airplane."

"But it's brilliant!" protests Arthur. "It comes with a little captain in a hat and ATC and everything."

"Perfect if Martin was turning six years old."

"That's enough you two," Carolyn scolds. She picks up the present and holds it out. "Martin, this is for you from the three of us."

He opens the card tucked underneath the ribbon first and blinks hard. World's Best Pilot the front of the card proclaims below a cartoon drawing of a pilot in uniform and aviator shades. The inside has a generic birthday message, but Martin can't help but grin when he reads what his friends have written:

Needless to say, Arthur picked out the card. Douglas.

Have a brilliant birthday, Skip!!!!!!! You're the best EVER!!!!!!! Love, Arthur.

Perhaps not the best ever, but you're definitely getting better. Carolyn.

And the grin widens at the fourth message, a remarkably well-done doodle of a twin-engine jet with a banner fluttering from her tail that reads Happy Birthday, Captain! Love, Gertie.

Martin stands the card on the table and turns his attention to his present. Beneath the extravagant purple bow is wrapping paper adorned with little planes in red, purple and yellow. He doesn't tear it away, but removes it with care and folds it for safekeeping.

"Hurry up, Skip," Arthur urges him. "You're going too slow!"

"All right." Smiling, Martin opens the box, parts the red tissue paper, and gawks at what is revealed. "Mickey Mouse ears?" he says in confusion, lifting them out. This was Douglas's idea? For a moment a suspicion that his First Officer is making a statement about his competence occurs to Martin, but he can't see Carolyn going along with it, and besides Douglas's smile is neither sarcastic nor sardonic, but genuine.

"Skip," Arthur says, beside himself with excitement, "don't you get it? We're taking you to Disney World for your birthday! It's going to be amazing! We'll see the Magic Kingdom and meet Mickey and Minnie and Donald Duck and Goofy, and go on rides and more rides and even more rides!"

"After which Arthur will throw up the no doubt epic amounts of candy floss and popcorn he's consumed along the way," injects Douglas dryly.

"Gosh." Martin is blinking again, harder this time. "I've always wanted to go to Disney World. How did you know?"

"Oh, you might have mentioned it a time or two," Douglas says. "Although I try very hard not to retain anything you say, sometimes the odd remark does in fact stick."

"But I didn't think there was time. Don't we have to leave as soon as we drop off the passengers?"

"Ah, but there are no passengers. That was a ruse to put you off the scent," Carolyn says smugly. "Like your sister calling you and giving Douglas time to get inside ahead of you."

Martin stares at her. "D'you mean to say we're flying all the way to Orlando just for - for my birthday?"

"Got in one, Captain Mousketeer," Douglas replies.

"Isn't it brilliant, Skip?"

Brilliant and expensive. He knows what this trip is going to cost Carolyn. Her generosity staggers him. "I- wow, I- I- don't know what to say."

"Don't, please god, say anything but 'thank you' or I shall cancel the trip."

"Then thank you. Thank you all. This is the most amazing birthday present ever." He sounds like Arthur, but he doesn't care.

Carolyn says, "Yes, yes, we know, but now will you please put on your mouse ears? I must admit that this is the bit I've been looking forward to the most."

Without hesitation Martin removes his captain's hat and replaces it with the mouse ears. He doesn't feel foolish, even when Douglas says, "Quite an improvement, Martin. No gold braid."

"Brilliant, Skip!" Arthur enthuses. "I'd put on mine, but I don't want to take off my party hat."

"Very fetching, Martin. Now," Carolyn claps her hands briskly twice. "It's time to get cracking, you lot." She smiles at Martin. "There will be punch and cake later on the plane."

This day just gets better and better, Martin thinks happily, adjusting his mouse ears to a jaunty angle.

"Oh Martin..." Martin looks at Douglas, who has the camera raised to his eye. "Say cheese."

~*~

"Post take-off checks complete," Martin says with satisfaction. "Do you want to make the announcement, Douglas?"

"It will be my pleasure."

Bing bong.

"Good morning, lady and gentlemen," Douglas intones in his suavest voice, "and welcome to Mickey Mouse Air."

~end~