|trio (trio) wrote in cabinpres_fic,|
The flight back from Nadi had been a smooth one, with no passengers to irritate or upset, and quiet word games that had lost Martin half the cheese tray. When Martin got out of the plane, it was with Douglas reading lazily in the flight deck, showing no sign of moving before he'd finally finished his chapter. Martin had tried, briefly, to rouse Douglas, but even he could understand the lure of a good novel versus the draw of filling in logbooks, so he made his way to the portacabin solo, already going over each of the fields in the books mentally. Mind drifting, eyes only vaguely focused on the portacabin at best, it was a surprise when he ran straight into one stretched-out arm, chest falling to a stop against a palm and splayed fingers as he blinked down at Carolyn owlishly.
"What do you think you're playing at, Martin?" The look in Carolyn's eyes was steadily annoyed, with a dash of curiosity and a hint of weariness. "MJN is not a tourist attraction, nor is it opening a branch as a floral delivery service." She gestured into the small building itself, and Martin's eyes followed the hand's waving until they came to rest on the giant bouquet of daises and baby's breath, fanned out above a rather simple, white ceramic vase.
"The arrangement, Carolyn?" he asked weakly, torn between trying to sort out exactly how it had come to be there in the first place and why Carolyn seemed to think it was his fault.
"Yes, Martin," she agreed, her gaze as pointed as her words. "The arrangement that has been giving me hayfever for the last seven hours. Why you insisted that the students deliver it at eight this morning when you knew you wouldn't be home until three is beyond me. I might have even been forgiving of the box of tissues I've been through since they brought it in, except that the arrangement is not for me, and I can't think why you would insist on early delivery here today when the man to whom these belong has been keeping you company over the cheese tray all day. Take them, Martin," she added, as he opened his mouth to say something, to offer some apology, to make the conversation somehow less awkward than it was. "Deliver them. Bin them. Cart them home. I do not care where they go, so long as they do not enter my sight again."
"...Sorry, but... who delivered them, Carolyn?" Martin managed, all thoughts of logbooks forgotten as he swallowed and stared at the flowers. For Douglas? From him?!
"Kelly and Sarah. The next time I see either of them in my office, Martin, they had better be paying customers. Am I clear?"
"Perfectly, Carolyn," Martin assured her, hurriedly. He ducked into the room, seized the vase, and ducked back out, feeling a sneeze come over himself. The daisies were entirely too pungent, he decided. They were also going to his van. Maybe the local church could use them as a donation.
As he carried them out, he couldn't help feeling lucky that Douglas' tradition of staying after to finish his chapter remained unbroken. Who knew what might have happened if he'd been first off GERTI?