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cabinpres_fic ([personal profile] cabinpres_fic) wrote2010-09-24 12:13 pm
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WELCOME - Prompts Post Part I

Please see the most recent MOD NOTE


(updated 6 June)

Welcome everybody. How you got here I have no idea but thank you for coming and welcome again, nonetheless . As you may have gathered this is a Fic Prompting Meme dedicated solely to the hilarious and oh-so-addictive BBC Radio 4 sitcom - Cabin Pressure. I'm aiming for this to be pretty anything goes - but in order for everything to run smoothly, there are a few guidelines. Don't worry - they're not too restrictive.


FILLING GUIDELINES



As you probably all know - our meme now has it's very own database created and maintained by the great Enigel. It both catalogues each and every prompt that we post and provides links to fills. You can find it here: Google Spreadsheet

We also have a Pinboard archive which has been put in place by the lovely [personal profile] oxfordtweed in the place of our late Delicious Archive. This Archive contains a list of all the prompts this meme has to offer - you can find it here: Pinboard Archive

This is a great step forward in making our meme just a little more organised (but not too organised of course. This is Cabin Pressure) which is always a good thing.

So in order to make things easier to archive - Please nest your fills.

This can be done by either posting each part as a reply to that part's immediate predecessor, OR by replying each time to Part I OR - well you get the idea :D

It makes it simpler for Enigel and myself to link fills in a clean and clear manner. Following these guildelines will be very much appreciated guys :D

REPROMPTING



Reprompting is allowed but please include the URL of the original prompt when you do so. It will make it infinitely more easy to Archive which would make both Enigel and I very happy :)

As for everything else



  1. Be respectful to one another. Disagreements are fine, but not everything disagreeable is trolling. If you suspect someone of trolling, just ignore it. If you cannot respond to a comment without attacking or trolling someone else, keep it to yourself.

  2. No bashing prompts. It might not be your cup of tea - but obviously someone wants it enough to go to the effort of requesting it. So just scroll past it.

  3. Prompt away as much as you like guys - seriously, go wild - but please try to fill as well.

  4. NEW - If your fill includes a major element that veers from the original prompt (crossovers, established universes, kinks, et cetera), please take a few moments to check with the OP that such additions are welcome. This has caused problems in the past and it only takes a few moments of your time.
  5. Please no RPF. I'm not trying to oppress you RPF writers and enthusiasts, I would just really like to avoid any legal problems.

  6. When you post a fill (or post a new part of a WIP) please go over to the Filled Prompts Post (if it is complete) or the WIP Post (if there are still more parts to come) and, following each post's guideline's, post a link to this fill or new part.


REALLY IMPORTANT ADDENDUM



According to numerous Child Safety laws it is illegal to provide pornographic material to minors. Seeing that the majority of the stuff we have here is rather adult in nature, this Meme is consequently an 18+ zone. Failing to comply to this rule could result in the Meme getting shut down. So if you're here and you're under 18 please back button now.

+ Please do not post anything regarding minors in a sexual situation. It really doesn't matter how tasteful or crass it is, there are laws that classify that sort of thing as child pornography and as such, I'm afraid we're going to have to go with the attitude that safe is better than sorry.

It really is VERY important that these rules are upheld as the consequences are severe.

Other than that - go crazy guys. Any problems please just message me and I'll try my best to work it out.



Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI | Prompt Index

Current Prompt Post | Current Chatter Post | WIP Post | Filled Prompts Post | Searching Post | Orphan Post | Page-a-Mod Post | FAQ | Beta/Concrit Post

[livejournal.com profile] cabin_pressure | Cabin Pressure @ AO3 | IRC Chat @ irc.ecnet.org #FittonATC

Fill: The Return 1/4

(Anonymous) 2011-07-24 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Strange as it might sound, Martin had almost forgotten about the throbbing in his right ankle whilst riding atop of an upright piano down the High Street of Ottery Saint Mary - and that did sound pretty strange. There was something quite distracting about that particular form of transport, and something even more distracting about seeing Douglas providing the forward momentum. Besides, what with worrying about being late, and what Carolyn would say when she found out they’d requisitioned Gertie for his removal business, and how he was going to pay a locksmith to let him into his own van, they’d been enough adrenaline running through him to dull almost any pain.

Once they’d got over the exhilaration of actually delivering the van, all that was bound to have ebbed away. The inevitable ebbing had only been quickened by the discovery of the keys under the lid of the piano - although that did at least solve the problem of the locksmith. Once Mr Hardy had handed over the seventy pounds for the delivery, there was nothing for it but to begin the long walk back to the airfield. Any cheery atmosphere of camaraderie in the face of near disaster that might have, at some point, existed, dissolved instantly. Douglas was, naturally, in an awful mood. He was saying nothing - in itself a bad sign - and Martin hadn’t known it was possible to jangle keys in a way that conveyed genuine fury. Even Arthur seemed slightly subdued. His requests for otter sightings had dropped to a frequency of one every two minutes: alarmingly low.

The hospital had lent Martin a pair of crutches, of course, but they were the old-fashioned type that had to be wedged uncomfortably under his arms. Although this kept the weight off his injured ankle, it didn’t stop it jolting painfully with every step he took. Every horribly slow step. Martin tried to move as quickly as he could, but it wasn’t all that easy when you weren’t used to crutches or Devon high streets. Or were trying to manoeuvre over an airfield. Douglas and Arthur kept having to stop and wait for him to catch up. By the time they finally got back to Gertie, they were all exhausted - with Douglas fending off Martin’s offer to do the walk round with a particularly barbed eyebrow raise and a “Really, Captain? Surely that would make it a hobble round, rather than a walk round? And I’m not sure that’s entirely following protocol.”

As Martin lowered himself into his seat, he knocked his ankle against one of the rudder pedals and couldn’t help but hiss in pain. Completing the pre-flight checks, Douglas glanced over to him. His look was not quite his most scathing, but it was certainly approaching it.

“Yes, all right,” Martin said, through gritted teeth. “I’ll try not to be quite so audible in my discomfort.”

“Actually, I was wondering why - even in this age of austerity - the hospital didn’t give you any painkillers.”

“They did, but they’ve worn off now.”

“I meant, to take with you.”

“They’re in the van.” It wasn’t a look of contrition on Douglas’s face, but his countenance registered a departure from its usual superior expression as he turned on the engines.

“Take off probably won’t be very comfortable. Of course, one of your take offs would be even less comfortable - so we should probably both be glad it’s your broken ankle.” They were now approaching the top of the small runway. “I don’t say this often, Martin, but I will endeavour to make this as painless as possible.”

It was a smooth take off - Martin would give Douglas that much. But the pressure change as they gained altitude seemed to do strange things to the swelling in his ankle. The joint was throbbing as though it would burst, and Martin found himself gripping the arm rests of his seat so hard that his knuckles turned white. He reminded himself that it was only 30 minutes to Fitton. 40 minutes on the outside. And he certainly, certainly wasn’t crying. If his eyes happened to be watering a little, well, the air quality in planes was always terrible. And if Douglas happened to notice, then he didn’t say anything.

“Did your painkillers say anything about not mixing them with alcohol?” Douglas said, suddenly.

“I can’t remember,” Martin confessed.

Fill: The Return 2/4

(Anonymous) 2011-07-24 11:51 pm (UTC)(link)
“Probably a good thing.” Douglas switched on the intercom. “Arthur - if you’ve quite finished measuring the fridge for its otter-storing capacity, would you bring a large whiskey with plenty of ice to the flight deck, please? And when I say plenty of ice, I mean all the ice in the freezer, wrapped in tea towels.”

Martin had to admit that Arthur proved himself surprisingly competent in lodging the tea towels filled with ice around his injured ankle, which was now elevated over an empty piece of lost luggage to stop water dripping all over the flight deck.

“But what’s the whiskey for?” Martin said. Douglas responded gesturing to Arthur to press it into Martin’s hands. “No, I can’t.”

“Trust me. I used to be a doctor.”

“You used to be a medical student.”

“Making me the most qualified person on this plane to administer medical assistance.”

“I can’t. What if something were to happen to you and I had to take control?”

“You’d be a poor substitute. Plus ca change.

“I’m being serious, Douglas! If you keeled over, and I had to take control -”

“You’d be utterly incapable of operating the foot pedals, and the best case scenario would have us flying round in circles until we ran out of fuel. Or until you blacked out, which would probably happen first.” Douglas sighed, as Martin began to protest again. “For heaven’s sake, Martin, just drink the damn stuff. It’ll make you feel better. Trust me, you don’t want to face a landing without some kind of anaesthetic, prescription or otherwise.” Martin took his advice and knocked it back. “Good chap. Now, for a landing that would make Johnson’s Baby Lotion jealous of its softness…”

It wasn’t a soft landing. Not that Douglas didn’t try. It was the most restrained landing Martin had ever seen him attempt, but Gertie was probably incapable of a soft landing, especially on the worst-maintained runway at Fitton - which was where the air traffic controller helpfully directed them. The plane jolted, and then bounced; even with the ice and the whiskey helping, it was excruciating. By the time they came to a stop, Martin was nauseous and unsure if he was even still breathing. Nevertheless, when Douglas asked “All right?” with what could have passed for actual concern, Martin managed to nod, exhale, and not be sick in the process.

The saving grace, he thought as he disembarked with the help of Douglas, Arthur and the crutches, was that Carolyn wasn’t there to greet them upon landing. It was too much to hope that she wouldn’t notice the extra fuel and landing costs in that month’s invoices - but that bought them another couple of weeks, and perhaps she’d be too distracted by her new found love interest to get too angry about it. Douglas, being Douglas, even managed to commandeer a baggage cart to transport them back to Martin’s van. Once there and in possession of the keys, Martin dry-swallowed two of the large painkillers and fished out the measly seventy quid, handing half of it to Arthur.

“For me?” Arthur looked like a child on Christmas morning. Or like Arthur on Christmas morning. “Wow, Skip - I didn’t realise we were getting paid too! I though this was just for fun. I’ve never been paid for anything before! This is brilliant! Wait until I tell Mum about this…” Martin thought he probably could wait until Carolyn heard about this. Arthur skipped off towards his car - no, Douglas’s spoils of war, really - leaving the other two men alone with the van. Ruefully, Martin thrust the other half of the money at Douglas.

“Martin, I know every man has his price, but I’m sorry to tell you that mine is considerably more than…”

“Just take it!” Martin snapped, wondering if it was humanly possible to feel even more embarrassed than he did now. “I know you don’t need it. I know you probably don’t even want it. I know that you taking it won’t mean that you forfeit any right to remind me of this hideous episode at any and every opportunity, henceforth, forthwith, from time to time and for all time. But you can’t not take it, because that would just make this too awful to bear. So, just… take it.” In silence, Douglas took the folded notes and slipped them inside his jacket.

Fill: The Return 3/4

(Anonymous) 2011-07-24 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)
“How are you planning to get home, Long John Silver?” Douglas asked. Martin shrugged.

“Well, I can’t drive. I’ll leave the van here tonight; I’ll get someone to come with me and pick it up in the morning. There’s a bus stop half a mile up the road.”

“A bus? At past nine o’clock at night? In Fitton?”

“I’ll get a taxi then.” Martin went to pull his mobile from his pocket, when Douglas placed a hand on his arm.

“I know this is hard thing to ask of you,” he said solemnly. “But don’t be an idiot. I’ll drive you home.” Martin swallowed; a mixture of pride and something else, he supposed.

“Thank you,” he said. “I appreciate it.”

Douglas’s Lexus was considerably more comfortable than either the piano or the plane. Martin sank back into its leather seats, allowing the combination of alcohol and painkillers to do its work. He’d probably regret having the whiskey in the morning, but there was no need to think about that now.

“Where exactly do you live?” Douglas asked, as they pulled away from the car park. Martin mumbled the address. “I thought it was all students up that way - from the agricultural college.”

“It is,” Martin replied. “I live with students. In an attic.” Douglas took this information surprisingly quietly.

“So, two flights of stairs? You do enjoy a challenge, Captain Crieff.”

“Three actually,” Martin said darkly. “It’s all right. I can probably bribe one of students to bring me a cup of tea in return for a chance to play on my crutches.” They’d probably invent a drinking game around it, he thought. See who could use the crutches most successfully after eight pints.

“Isn’t there somewhere else you could stay? With your brother - Simon, did you say his name was?” Martin gave the sort of laugh you only give when something isn’t funny at all.

“I don’t think so. For a start, he won’t want to come and get me from Wokingham. Then I’d get all the grief about not being a very safe pilot if I can’t even climb out of a van properly. Besides, he’s got kids and I’d be underfoot, and…”

“Can’t even climb out of a van properly?” Douglas repeated. “I thought you were demonstrating safety procedures?” Martin felt his face start to burn. So it was humanely possible to be even more embarrassed. Well, that was good to know.

“I sort of tripped out of the van this morning.”

“Sort of tripped?” Douglas was beginning to sound like a rather incredulous echo.

“I got the toe of my left foot caught in the trouser leg of my right,” Martin muttered. “I twisted my foot as I landed. I just didn’t want to tell Arthur that.”

“You didn’t want Arthur to judge you? Arthur, believer in all things Ottery and Saint Mary?” Martin’s laugh was slightly less wry this time.

“All right - I didn’t want to tell you that. Arthur can’t really have believed all that about otters, can he?”

“There are more things in Arthur’s mind, Martin, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” There was a moment of quiet; the radio announced a traffic jam on the M25. “You’ve got a sister, too.”

“Douglas, I called Arthur to come and help me move a piano. Arthur. A man who most sane-minded people wouldn’t trust to move a muscle. Especially one of his own. If I had to call Arthur to help me do that, do you really think I can call in a spare room for the night?” Quiet again. “Arthur was really quite nice about it, though, wasn’t he? Not the greatest invitation - ‘Would you like to join me for a spot of piano moving after work?’ Most people tend to suggest coffee. Or the pub.”

“You sound like you didn’t expect that. Arthur being nice.”

“No, Arthur is nice. But people aren’t that nice. To me, anyway. You, Douglas, are not that nice to me. Except for this. This is nice. Nice of you, I mean.” Oh god, his head was spinning. The painkillers must be stronger than he’d thought. He didn’t even recognise the roads. No. Not the painkillers. He really didn’t recognise the roads. “Douglas, you’ve gone the wrong way.”

“In all the time you’ve known me, Martin, have I ever gone the wrong way? Does it strike you as something that I might do - going the wrong way?”

Fill: The Return 4/4

(Anonymous) 2011-07-25 12:00 am (UTC)(link)
“No, but this is the wrong way to my house.”

“A wonderful observation, Captain. But the wrong way to your house just so happens to be the right way to my house. My house, which has a spare bedroom on the ground floor.”

“Douglas, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Then it’s a good job that you didn’t have to.” They passed the rest of the journey in silence, Martin half-listening to a discussion of the fourth day of some test match or other.

Martin had been to Douglas’s house before - back when it had been Douglas and Helena’s house. It had been large, warm and inviting. Now it was mostly only large; there were no lights on, and the driveway was empty. Martin didn’t say this, of course. Douglas probably already knew it. How long must it have been since she moved out? Nine months? More? Martin should remember. Perhaps he would remember in the morning.

He hobbled into the downstairs bedroom, whilst Douglas put the kettle on and hunted for some clean sheets. The room was sparsely furnished, but still larger than his attic room. It would definitely be warmer in winter. There were no students living below it, and it wasn’t accessed through a trap door. For tonight, at least, it was a definite improvement.

Douglas returned and, handing Martin a cup of tea, began to unfold sheets.

“Douglas, you mustn’t. I can do it. You’ve done too much already,” Martin protested, rising unsteadily to his feet - no, to his foot.

“I’ve done a lot more for people I liked a lot less,” Douglas replied. “The second Mrs Richardson for one. How’s the ankle?”

“Better, I think.” It was still throbbing against the compression bandage, but there were no more sharp stabs of pain every time he so much as breathed. “I’m sure I’ll be able to sleep.”

“I’ll leave you to your own devices then.” Douglas tucked the corners of the sheet in with an attention to detail that Martin thought was considerably lacking from his behaviour on the flight deck. Except when absolutely necessary, of course, when it - when Douglas - could never really be doubted. “I’ll probably be gone when you wake up. My weekend with the kid. Help yourself to breakfast, and just shut the door when you leave - no need to do anything else.” Martin nodded.

“Douglas, this was…” Unexpected? No, couldn’t say that. “Nice.” Damn, he’d said that before. “That is, I mean…”

“No, Martin, It’s been nice for me too. It’s always nice to have someone owe you a colossal favour. Good night.” Douglas closed the door behind him, leaving Martin to wonder, not for the first time, what exactly Douglas had been up to that day.


Douglas was, indeed, gone when Martin woke up a little after eight-thirty. He helped himself to coffee and, noting that the instructions on his painkillers not only advised against alcohol but also suggested that they be taken with food, made a couple of pieces of toast. There wasn’t much else in Douglas’s cupboards, which made Martin a little sad. Maybe he ought to invite Douglas round for dinner - sometime when it was the university holidays and when he had enough money for something more than pasta.

It was when he walked into the living room, wondering how he was going to get himself and his van home, that Martin got the shock of his life. Through the window, he could see his van. His transit van was sitting on Douglas’s driveway. With a man reading a newspaper behind the steering wheel. Just as he was about to go outside and demand, in his best Captain’s voice, to know what the hell was going on, he saw the note on the coffee table.

Hopalong,

Your van is outside. Engineer Dave owed me a favour; he’ll drive you back to your place. Make sure you get some nubile young student to help you into bed…

What do you call an airline captain with a sprained ankle? Whatever you like; he’s not going to catch up with you.


Martin smiled as he looked up to see Dave waving at him through the window. Slipping on his jacket, he noticed something in one of the pockets. Reaching inside he drew out the thirty-five pounds that he’d given Douglas last night, along with another note.

I know this is a hard thing to ask of you, but don’t be an idiot.

Martin felt himself blush, and then sighed, before rearranging his crutches and heading, slowly, for the front door.

Re: Fill: The Return 4/4

(Anonymous) 2011-07-25 12:31 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, Douglas, you old softie :) This was really cute and fitting.

Re: Fill: The Return 4/4

[identity profile] suddenlyflying.livejournal.com 2011-07-25 01:50 am (UTC)(link)
Awww, adorable. ♥

Re: Fill: The Return 4/4

(Anonymous) 2011-07-25 03:06 am (UTC)(link)
Awwww, this has made me feel all soft and fuzzy. <3

Re: Fill: The Return 4/4

(Anonymous) 2011-07-25 05:46 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, I've got such a big smile! What wonderful voices you've captured here. This coda is my head!canon now. ;-)

Author Anon

(Anonymous) 2011-07-25 09:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you all for taking the time to leave such lovely comments! I'm so pleased you liked it. This was my first fic in this fandom, and I'm feeling much more reassured about it now.

Re: Author Anon

[identity profile] zephyrrdragon.livejournal.com 2011-08-21 01:16 pm (UTC)(link)
This is amazing, especially for your first fic here, except now I want to know what Douglas will demand in return for this colossal favour! <3

Re: Fill: The Return 4/4

(Anonymous) 2011-07-26 12:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Aw, Douglas. Stop being so adorable, I might have to forgive you for being an arse in Qik-ik-tar-je-whatsit

Re: Fill: The Return 4/4

[identity profile] alextree.livejournal.com 2011-07-26 08:28 pm (UTC)(link)
qikiqtarjuaq?

op

(Anonymous) 2011-07-28 02:03 am (UTC)(link)
This was brilliant! The voices were spot on and the hurt/comfort was perfect. This is now my canon for what came after the episode.

Re: Fill: The Return 4/4

[identity profile] elvendork-lee.livejournal.com 2011-08-31 11:48 am (UTC)(link)
Oh this was wonderful, very cute and also in character. It made me smile so much - Douglas fixes all as usual, and Martin...being Martin. *shakes head*

The notes - both of them - might be my favourite things ever to come out of CP fiction. XD
ext_24392: (CP - hey chief mountain)

Re: Fill: The Return 4/4

[identity profile] random-nexus.livejournal.com 2011-12-18 06:37 am (UTC)(link)
Awwwwwww! Douglas, you old marshmallow.
This was lovely.

Re: Fill: The Return 4/4

(Anonymous) 2012-03-06 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
Sorry, Anon, can't find a better word to describe this fic but "Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww"!
<3

Re: Fill: The Return 4/4

(Anonymous) 2012-03-21 10:30 am (UTC)(link)
I read this a while back and it wasn't until I just now re read it that I realized I was dead certain that all this had been in the episode. Very well done on characterization and character voices!