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Douglas will fix it.

The thought crosses Carolyn’s mind the moment she realises something is wrong. She’ll never tell him.

Douglas will fix it.

It’s Martin who lands the plane, and lands it well. He can’t save the engine, though.

Douglas will fix it.

Even Douglas can’t conjure money from nowhere. But Arthur is still confident despite their doubts.

Douglas will fix it.

He suggests Gordon. Carolyn knows she has no choice.

Douglas...can't fix it.

Gordon is a smooth talking thief. She doesn’t even realise.

Douglas soon does; it takes one to know one, Carolyn supposes.

Douglas will fix it.

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GERTI sees things the others don’t. Perhaps they don’t want to; perhaps they have other things on their minds.

For example, Douglas doesn’t hear Martin’s whispered apology when they land. GERTI does, and creaks in acknowledgement. It’s not his fault.

Equally, Martin doesn’t see Douglas’s sad little pat of her control column, his own silent farewell. And neither of them notices the sweeping look of regret that Carolyn casts behind her as they walk away.

Only Arthur exits with his spirits intact. GERTI is glad; that’s how she wants to remember him. Dear Arthur, an impossible optimist to the end.

~~

She should have expected this, should have believed in Arthur.

Douglas, wonderful Douglas – of course he sorted it out; of course.

She imagines he was suitably smug about it beforehand, naturally. Imagines he quite infuriated Carolyn. He always does. Not that, really, either – any – of them – would have him any other way.

Nor Martin, for that matter, who is a far better pilot than he gets credit for; or Arthur with his boundless enthusiasm; Carolyn who has somehow kept them together for so long.

They are, in GERTI’s humble opinion, the finest crew ever assembled.

It’s a smooth flight home.

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All he needs is time. He’ll pass his exam one day; he will, no matter how long it takes. One more go or ten, he will do it in the end.

~~

All he needs is time. Someday he will get it right, and he will find that person; that one person. He won’t ever need to hear the word divorce again.

~~

All she needs is time. It’s improving every day, or so she tells herself. MJN will be profitable, she will make it so.

~~

All he needs is time. It can take quite a bit, but he always understands eventually.

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Martin stares. His mouth falls open. Actually falls open like a cartoon. He tries for words; fails. Tries again, and manages a kind of strangled squeak. His lips curl without instruction into a smile, then a grin, and then he laughs.

A short sharp burst and then it’s gone; no, this can’t be right. He checks the paper again. Reads, re-reads and reads again, just to be sure, absolutely sure.

He finally knows what it feels like to fly, to really fly, and he’s doing it now even though his feet are firmly on the ground – he’s soaring.

He’s passed.

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‘So, what did you think?’ Herc prompts, as Carolyn unlocks the front door.

‘If you mean that horrendous noise you have the audacity to call music, my opinion is the same as it’s always been.’ It’s the truth, after all. Even if she knows it isn’t what he was asking.

‘And did you enjoy yourself?’ Herc’s tone is far too shrewd for Carolyn’s liking.

She ignores the question, opening the door and calling back over her shoulder, ‘well, are you coming in or not?’

She doesn’t see Herc’s smile because she’s deliberately not looking around, trying to hide her own.

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Martin’s wings are not large. They’ve grown in the last few years, more than in his entire life previously, but they’re still just the embarrassing side of average.

Arthur’s are the biggest and brightest he’s ever seen.

Carolyn’s are steely grey. Some days Martin thinks they look much larger than his, but on others he isn’t so sure.

None of this is surprising. Wing size seems to be somehow (no one actually knows how) linked to a person’s…well…their happiness.

Which is why the sight of Douglas’s wings unnerves Martin so much, because of the four of them, they are smallest.

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‘Carolyn, I –’ Herc stops; he clears his throat, frowns at the mirror, and tries again.

‘I want you to know…that is to say, despite – no, no that’s wrong, not despite...what I mean to say is that I have very much enjoyed our…’ he trails off and sighs hopelessly.

Good Lord, Hercules; you have done this four times already, do get a move on. You ought to know what you’re doing by now.

‘I’m trying to ask you to marry me,’ he says in a rush, then whips around when he hears movement behind him.

‘Yes,’ replies Carolyn, beaming.

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Tyson is a German Shepard, over twice the size of Snoopadoop and infinitely more dignified.

That is, when he isn’t chasing her through the park, tail wagging, tripping over his paws and yapping – yapping – in distinctly puppy-like joy.

Snoopadoop carefully stays out of reach, pausing occasionally and almost letting him catch up before setting off again at a pace even Tyson’s much longer legs can’t manage.

Herc and Carolyn’s voices are completely unheeded.

Martin and Douglas, hands casually linked, glance over as they walk past, smirking simultaneously.

‘Well,’ Douglas raises his eyebrows, ‘they do say dogs take after their owners.’

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Martin stands on the doorstep of his home for the last decade, suitcase in hand, and thinks about leaving.

He thinks about moving to Switzerland, and being closer to Theresa. He thinks about being paid to fly with a proper airline and real professionals in a reliable plane.

He thinks about the chaos of student housing, and never having any free time. He thinks about being teased and having no salary and never being taken seriously; of lemons, pianos and failing engines.

He thinks about Douglas’s sarcasm, Arthur’s misunderstandings, and Carolyn’s harsh leadership.

He thinks he’s going to miss it.

Chapter Text

‘Do you want to leave?’

‘I want to be closer to you. And get paid.’

‘That is not what I asked. I asked if you wanted to leave.’

‘I’d be working for a real airline.’

‘True.’

‘MJN would probably fold.’

‘True.’

‘You’re not helping.’

‘I’m not trying to. This is your decision.’

‘But I can’t make it!’

‘You have to. I’m sorry, but you do.’

‘It would upset Arthur.’

‘Also Carolyn and Douglas, I imagine.’

‘But I’d get paid!’

‘If you would be paid for staying with MJN, would you?’

‘What are you getting at?’

‘I may have a solution.’