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(updated 5 July)

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.

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I need to explore Imogen a little. So some of this chapter is from her POV.

---

Imogen helped Florence buckle up in the baby seat. The van was not made for children but the two seats were secured with furniture straps. They weren't going to move one bit. Uncle Martin had made sure of that. Imogen didn't know much about him. Only that he moved furniture and flew an aeroplane. Oscar and Florence were nodding off as she climbed into the front seat. Martin chatted with the old lady, Catheryn Knap-Shappy. She was nice, Imogen supposed, a bit brunt but Imogen liked that.

She hated it when adults sugar coated things; she liked thing straight and to the point and if the adults weren't going to do that, she was. Life was hard enough to live without people trying to cover things up just because she was seven years and a half old. Honestly. Stupid people just kept getting dumber as the days went by.

Martin pulled open the driver side of the van and hopped in. Keys in hand. He checked the back to see that Florence and Oscar were fast asleep and buckled in. Imogen finished with her buckle and then it was Martins turn to secure himself to the seat.

"Amber say's we can go to the house and get your stuff," he said as he started up the van.

"Okay," Imogen nodded.

"Are you going to be all right?" Martin asked.

Imogen took a long breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. Martin had avoided any and all questions as to her mental health. Mostly, she figured, because he didn't know how to handle it himself. Here he was, a young man, living out dream, and then he suddenly gets fosters. He was going to get rid of them soon, Imogen knew.

"Yes, I will be fine. Oscar and Florence are too little to know any different," Imogen replied hotly, "I don't need you to fake it," she hissed through her teeth.

"Fake?" Martin didn't turn to look at her since he had to concentrate on driving, "what do you mean by that?" he asked. Genuinely curious.

"Aunt Helga wants us. I heard her and that Amber lady talking in the hallway outside the waiting room, just before you came to get us, Aunt Helga went on and on about how you didn't want us and how you hadn't any money to support three kids. Not to mention that you hated Uncle Simon and my mother. So don't pretend you care now!" she did not yell. Oscar and Florence were not able to sleep well the night before because they shared Uncle Martin's small bed while he took the floor with a sleeping bag. He had promised to somehow find a bigger place for them all to have more room.

"Imogen," Martin sighed. How could he have forgotten Aunt Helga. "I am sorry about what happened to Caitlyn and Simon. We had a lovely childhood and I do love them. I always have. It got hard for us because of your Grandfather, our father. He was an electrician. He wanted one of his kids to be in the profession because it's a Crieff family tradition. Only Simon was the oldest and he wanted to be a Lawyer, and then Caitlyn didn't have the head for the technicalities so she choose to Teach instead. I wanted to fly. Ever since I was a kid. However, I was the youngest and the last kid. So Dad took me on jobs during the summer and I helped him, but I never wanted to be an electrician. I don't have the heart for it. Anyway, we had a huge fight. Simon and Caitlyn sided with Dad. So, I left. We didn't talk to each other for a while. It took me seven tries to get my piloting license and the only job I could find was the one at MJN and I don't even get paid for it," Martin sighed. They were half way to the student housing.

Imogen wasn't sure is she should believe everything Martin was saying. But, he was being honest, she supposed; "go on," she encouraged.

"Anyway, I don't hate your parents, or Oscar's. I was sad when I wasn't invited to their weddings, or when you got baptized. I wasn't ever invited to birthdays. I thought they hated me. And then last night I learnt that they named me your guardian. Out of all the people in the world, they trust me enough with your welfare. That's big. Thats...more important than weddings or birthdays. It means that they didn't hate me. Even if we did have our differences. They probably put Aunt Helga as a second just in case I was very badly well off," he finished.

"So, it is all Grandfather's fault?" Imogen asked. She gave Martin her patented raised eyebrow look.

"Yes and no. I should have grown up and contacted them. I do wish Dad had supported my dream like he supported theirs. It felt like he loved them more than me. Nothing I did was good enough. Even when I did try to learn to be an Electrician. I kept messing it up. Flying is different. Flying makes me happy. I was just miserable otherwise. And then I see Simon happy that he's a partner in a law firm after one year of working for them, and Caitlyn is made Teacher of the year and so many people praise her work with kids. And what was I? I was Simon and Caitlyn's little brother. I wasn't Martin Crieff. I decided that I wanted to be happy too and why should I settle?"

"Settle?" Imogen asked.

"You know, like if you had a choice between a biscuit and a cracker why go for the cracker when you've the choice of a biscuit," Martin shrugged.

"So you decided that if they could have a sweet you should as well?" Imogen asked.

"Yes," Martin nodded. They pulled into the drive at the side of the house. "I need to look for a bigger place. It's going to be hard. I don't have a lot of money as it is," he sighed.

"That's fine," Imogen undid her seat belt, "Mum has a condo she isn't using. We can live there," she said in a matter of fact sort of tone.

"What?" Martin blinked.

"Grandma willed it to her when she died," Imogen shrugged, "I'm sure Mum's lawyer will help us out. He's a very close friend. And the condo is all paid for," she hopped out of the van.

Martin shook his head; it wouldn't hurt anything. After all, he had the kids to think about.

---

Mr. Todd Barns was a tall man with slicked back blond hair, bright blue eyes hidden behind a pair of spectacles and he wore a brown tweed suit with a bow tie. He was a cross between Doctor Who and a shoddy car sales man.

"I've no problems putting the house in your name, Mr. Crieff," he said hurriedly. "I got an update from the hospital about your sister, and the prognosis isn't looking good. She's in a coma and if she wakes she'll be stuck in a wheel chair, that is if she doesn't die from punctured lungs," he sighed, "she would have wanted her children and Oscar to have a good place to live," and then he presented the papers with a flourish.

"Thanks, but...what's the catch?" Martin asked.

"No catch," Barns replied.

Martin nodded. Well. Now that that was settled, he didn't feel so tressed.

---

Simon's boss and partner was Alex Mason. He was an older man who was bald, fat and loved his scotch. He met Martin at the condo. It stood on a small cul-de-sac fifteen minutes from Fitton air field. He shook Martin's hand gravely.

"I am so sorry about poor Simon, he was the best I had," Mason said genuinely.

"He isn't dead yet," Martin shook his head.

"No, but he might as well be, but, as it stands you're the guardian to Oscar?" Mason asked, but he knew that all ready, Martin was sure of it.

"Yes,"

"Good, I met that horrible Aunt," Mason shuddered visibly, "she gives me the creeps. Well, I'm a lawyer, I'm trained to bull shit and make it look good. Well, most of the time. Anyway, I could tell that if I were ever to defend her in court, it'd be hell. I'm glad the children are with you," Mason grumbled.

"I've the papers making you Oscar's permanent guardian, Mr. Barns is taking care of Imogen and Florence. We're both in agreement that the kids should be with you. I can always tell when someone lies to me," he tapped the side of his nose, "and you don't have a lying bone in your body! now, I'm also waving my fee and retaining rights, that's not something for you to worry about," he flapped his hand.

"I thank you," Martin smiled, because he didn't have the money to feed the kids, much less pay lawyers.

"No problem, it's no problem at all!"

---

Imogen watched Uncle Martin and Mr. Mason from the window of her room that looked down on the street below. She smiled. It was nice to be in a place somewhat familiar. Florence had settled down but Oscar was being a bit wild. He probably missed his Mum and Dad as much as she and Florence did. the only difference is that he didn't have anything like the condo to remind him of them.

They each had their own room though. Imogen and Florence's were the same as they had left them. Martin had cleared out the guest bedroom and made it into Oscar's room. He put together the crib Amber had brought, and tried to make it as homy as he could for the little boy. Oscar was crying because he'd been put down for a nap. Martin, however, had googled parenting tips and the consensus was just to leave Oscar to cry. He'd tire himself out soon enough but have the baby monitor on just in case.

Florence was sleeping like the dead. She could sleep through anything really. So Imogen did not worry about Oscar waking her little sister up. It helped that they were down the hall from each other as well. Imogen's room was set between Oscar's and Florence's with Martin at the far end of the hall way. He felt it was too weird to have the Master Bedroom which was decorated with family photos and other stuff of his older sister.

But Imogen had rolled her eyes and took all the stuff down so that it was a blank slate for Uncle Martin. He still walked around the house awkwardly. However, he had hung up some of his aviation posters - stuck in frames - on the walls and put his own sheets and bed spread on the available queen sized mattress.

The other thing that'd happen in a matter of hours, his friend Douglas had gotten Martin a paying job as an air traffic controller. Martin knew all the regulations by heart. He could quote them at any time, including paragraph number, page number and which manual it came from.

It went a long way to helping her feel as if their life might be stable. She'd been afraid that they'd go from one relatives house to another to another and never get the chance to settle. She didn't like that attic one bit, and was very glad Uncle Martin hadn't batted an eyelash at her proposal of the condo on Heat View Lane. It was close to their school. She had friends here. And Uncle Martin would only be working four times a week. That meant they had three days to spend with him.

And Aunt Helga didn't have a say in any of it. Imogen smirked. If it was the last thing she did, she was going to protect Oscar, Florence and Uncle Martin from that horrible dragon lady.