brilliantmartincrieff-blog

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"I-it's so my thing." Martin quickly replied, blushing again, knowing such a turn of phrase probably sounded very odd with his deep British accent coupled with it. "So, yes, a 40's diner, let's do that." It seemed like it would be a fun place, nothing fancy, which was relieving since Martin was certain he would muddle everything up in a respectable restaurant. "I'll um pick you up? I don't have flights for the next three days... this will work out nicely."

Hey, cutie!

[brilliantmartincrieff-blog]

Dear John,

I'm sorry, John, I'm glad that I can send letters to pick you up a bit! I hope you're not hurt. Of course not, I mean, that's what these letters are for, right? I'm a bit embarrassed at the idea of someone other than you seeing my horrendous handwriting but I'm always particularly awkward about everything sooo...

Oh, goodness, I don't know. Thank you though, John, that's kind of you to say. Very encouraging, even. Now that I think of it it probably wouldn't, no, more stiff than anything. That's a good point as well. Did you always want to be in the military, John? Is it a sort of family tradition to enlist?

Alright, I see, I'm enjoying having you as a pen pal, a lot. I never thought I'd enjoy writing. That sounds very scary, John, I hope all those things stay far away from your camp and that all the men remain safe. You're so brave and selfless, I don't think I could ever do what you do.

I'll add a bit of my letter to address your friends:

Dear Soldiers,

Thank you so much for your hard work. You make Britain very proud for committing yourself to protecting and honoring us. I really admire all of you and just know that you can trust Captain John Watson to take care of you. You are always a part of our thoughts and prayers. Don't give up and thank you again. There aren't enough thank you's in the cosmos! Thank you, thank you!

Hope that was alright. Thank you John. Can't wait to hear back.

Martin.

Letters to a Soldier [Part 1]

Dear Martin,

Good to hear from you again! I’ve had a rough week, and finding your letter waiting for me was wonderful. I hope you don’t mind that I let some of the others who don’t get letters read this. They like to feel the outside world now and again. And you absolutely can just call me John.

Why not? I think if you set your mind to it, you could be the best pilot England has seen, yet! I encourage you to go for it. I can’t imagine being a plane would be very much fun. Actually flying one could be great, though! I think as a plane you would get bored of just being told what to do. 

Who used to be my pen pal? I don’t know if I could remember if I tried. It was a while ago. And it wasn’t for very long. But I do know that I enjoyed it. What are we watching? Well, we’re on night duties in shifts. We watch to make sure the base is kept safe. We’re on the lookout for enemies, tanks, bombs. That sort of thing. Thank you for the letter, Martin. I look to hear from you again (and so do some of the other soldiers). And thank you for the well-wishes.

Happy to hear from you,

John.

[brilliantmartincrieff-blog]

#4 Headcanon

Sherlock Holmes was the six year old that told Martin, the five year old, that it was impossible to be an aeroplane. Surprisingly, Martin didn't cry, despite the fact that his great dream had just been shattered, but it was only because Sherlock confessed the fact to him very gently. Martin only remembers Sherlock as "that boy" and has no idea that he is also a relative of his. Half brothers, same father, different mothers.

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"What work do you do, Erin?" Martin asked coyly, curious now, interested in learning more about what she took joy in. Not to mention he didn't exactly want to describe his very anti-social life, let alone fib and lie about actually having one to the lovely girl.

Martin watched her reason with her mobile, chewing at his inner bottom lip between, surprised by her sudden epiphany. "We'll learn soon enough. I-it happens." He did say that, but it still seemed very odd that the girl was so very... distracted? "It's not a waste, I assure you, and what matters is simply learning your friends status. Don't want you leaving here frazzled and worried."

He gently set a hand on her shoulder, only for a moment, and having to battle his nerves not to shake.Then the line had cleared and it was their turn to speak with the teller. Martin did what he could, rather nervous to be speaking with an airport employee, despite wearing his captain suit. He just didn't usually talk with people, at all, only Douglas, Arthur, and his employer. Landing, heading home, paying a cabby, avoiding the uni students, and passing out, then repeating the scenario again.

Anyway, he spoke with the woman and soon enough found out that the flight was expected for tomorrow, not today. He didn't feel like this was a waste of time, even as he stepped aside with Erin in toe, and turned to face her once again. He wasn't certain of her reaction, or what to say about the situation, and so settled to start by uselessly saying, "I'm sorry, Erin."

“That sounds great, though!” she exclaimed. “You’ve seen many beautiful places and probably met a ton of awesome people.” She dighed dreamily and rocked on her heels for a while.

“You know,” Erin began after a few seconds, pulling out her phone and checking the schedule. “I’m not even sure if her plane was landing today. I thought I had written it down here, but it seems I forgot. I’m such an idiot,” she added, slapping her forehead. “What if she doesn’t land today? I’d be wasting your time. God, I’m so sorry.” 

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"Well, you know..." Martin laughed awkwardly as he began the statement and then allowed it to pass. He wasn't cocky, really, but he certainly took some pride in his less than dignifying position as captain at MJN Air. He was glad that, whatever small complex he might have, it didn't put John off.

The gingers heart warmed up at John's nervous laughter, and his lips curved even more into a delighted and innocent smile. He sipped his cuppa as John carried on, his own blue eyes sparkling a bit, completely enthralled to be successfully carrying conversation with the older man. "Nervous?" On Gerti? Yes. "Nooo. It's a joy, really, and with me behind the control panel I know I'll be safe and sound."

What a load of bullocks. Taking off and landing alive in his prized tin can, riddled with duct tape and rusted paneling, was a miracle in itself. The plane was enough to put him off but once the rest of the crew was added into the equation... Martin did reflect on it sometimes, how he possibly had survived this long. Martin became eased once again and laughed gently at John's childhood before he sobered and gazed at the scar. "No." He breathed out in shock, one of his hands reaching forward to hold the forearm, before his gaze turned up to look at John. "... I bet the proof that you couldn't hurt more than the cut, huh?"

“That’s really kind of you. Most people that go through so much training for a job end up with a bit of a complex.” John thought back to the genuine nice guys that he had met in first year medical training, when he saw them later on it was as though they were completely different men- driven by money and fame.

Letting out a nervous laugh and making a face John replied, “Well when you describe it like that I hardly want to get into another ‘tin can’. I don’t know how you do it all the time, don’t you ever get nervous?” Grinning brightly John chuckled, “I’m glad I’m not the only one. I remember mum saying that there was a few of my friends that wanted to be firetrucks but I would have none of that.” He quickly rolled up the sleeve of his jumper to point out a faint small scar on the inside of his elbow, “Got that from jumping of the roof- figured I could fly… turns out I couldn’t.”

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"Not at all." Martin assured, gesturing a hand happily to show he wasn't offended, remaining at ease. He smiled toward her as she continued to speak. "That's fine, you're not looking for a pilot suit, you're looking for your friend."

"It's fantastic... it's what I've wanted to be since I was a child, well, that and an actual aeroplane, fortunately a boy talked me out of that. Yes, exciting," He didn't bother thinking of how else his pilot experiences were on Gerti with his insane flight crew. In general, it was very exciting. "I have, well, a very good part of the world, actually. There's always more to see. I don't really have the time to explore destinations once we land. It's mostly find a hotel and sleep immediately."

Erin looked up and saw the pilot cap on Martin’s head. She mentally slapped herself for being so absentminded, but only nodded and followed him to the concierge desk. “I see. Sorry, but I didn’t notice the cap,” she finally said, nodding towards said item, feeling a little embarrassed. “It usually takes a bit of time for me to notice some things.” With a small shrug, she pursed her lips. “What is it like to be an airplane captain? Is it exciting? You must have seen the entire world already,” she said, fascinated.

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Martin was completely surprised by John's reaction. Most people thought this was a negative, pretty much all did, but John was... happy that Martin wasn't paid for his work? He cleared his throat, listening to the man go on about how happy he was with the idea. "U-u-u-uh, s-sure. Volunteering. Yes." Might as well be bloody volunteering... bless whoever got the position when he eventually passed on in his damp addict, poor and alone.

He lifted his spirits when John continued, speaking of his times on a plane, it always thrilled Martin to hear such things (and this was THE John Watson telling him!). "Yes, it is amazing... Aw, that's alright. You are in a tin can thousands of meters from the ground." He reasoned and then slowly but surely began to gape at John's confession. "... I... I-I... w-wanted to be an aeroplane too." He muttered, handling his cuppa delicately all of a sudden. His inner child lit up and he smiled with joy toward John. He'd never met anyone who shared his ridiculous wish.

“Not paid at all” John echoed before lighting up, “You are a volunteer pilot then? That’s brilliant! I mean, that’s so kind of you to give your time and expertise for free.”

John lit up like a small child, “Flying all the time? Wow, that would be amazing. I mean I’ve only been on a plane twice or so and I was sort of two worried to enjoy the trip.” Grinning he added, “When I was a young boy I wanted to be an air pilot… then an airplane but that’s another story.”

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He felt on top of the world, which was a feeling he was use to, day in and day out, flying old Gerti, but this time, Martin couldn't help but outwardly express his glee. It wasn't as if he'd won the National Lottery, or discovered a cure for cancer, or landed on Mars, but... this was a huge moment in his life. Darcy was like no other girl he'd asked to dinner... and she's the first he'd really asked, not a stutter, with confidence and joy... and content. He felt everything would be just fine.

Her face broke out into a bright and beautiful flush and his followed suit, not near as attractive and graceful as hers, he was embarrassed now. He did his best to sober up and not land in a fit of awkward giggles, "S-so, where would you like to go?"

Hey, cutie!

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Lydia smiled kindly at Martin "No, just going to enjoy myself for a while... to be honest I've never flown in an aeroplane before, I tend to travel differently"

“Well, Paris sounds like a delightful place to have some R&R.” Martin replied, eyes widening at the confession. “A-are you serious? Never?” As shocking as this news was it also applied a bit more pressure to his position. Why did the girl have to choose MJN Air for her first flight? Why?

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"Aw, I see." Martin conversed gently, allowing Erin to take most of the room for dialogue, only to spare her his ridiculous stammer. He approached the concierge desk only to find that there was a very short line, two people in front of them, and as long as Erin didn't mind he saw no point in cutting in front of them

He gingerly turned to face her once again, a patient smile on his lips as she went on, finally landing on another inquiry. "Oh, um, yes, well, not the airport per say." He started to explain, reasoning with his pilots cap. He never changed out of uniform until he made it back to the attic. "I'm an aeroplane captain, actually." Martin informed, a slight sense of pride on his smile now. It at least sounded good, the title, though the reality of his professional life was anything to desire.

Erin could see Martin was watching her as she spoke, but didn’t feel intimidated or bothered by it. “Oh, well that’s good then,” she said with a smile, feeling more comfortable and laughing softly with him. 

She turned on her heels and started following him, hands clasped at her back and eyes studying everything, a position that normally indicated curiosity. “Yes, it’s a short flight indeed. She went to visit her sister and to see her boyfriend as well, I think.” She cleared her throat after a few seconds. “Do you work here?” 

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Martin's bashful grin grew all the more at Darcy's positive reaction but... he felt a level of resolve in him, an inner strength and courage he wasn't use to experiencing. He was a bit lost at her statement at first but then realized what she meant by that, that she was giving him the floor, a second chance to be... the nice guy who could ask Darcy out to dinner.

Martin kept the slight panic in his chest at bay, knowing full well what an absolute loss he was when it came to eating in restaurants, let alone involving a date in the mix. It might turn out to be a catastrophe but this new found spirit inside him spurred him to give it a shot. He succumbed to this remarkable courage and let out a weak but hopeful chuckle, thankful for the squeeze to his hand, as he glanced up toward Darcy to finally ask, "Would you care to go to dinner with me, Darcy?" And bless him, he didn't stutter.

Hey, cutie!

[brilliantmartincrieff-blog]

Martin hope he didn't come off as strange as he carefully watched Erin the aloud. It was like he could see the clockwork moving, and he suddenly understood how Douglas must feel with him at times. He couldn't help but smile as she hopped between numbers, readying his next question if the answer didn't come to her, Where was your friend departing?

"Not at all, not at all." Martin assured, happy that the focus was mostly on her, and not on him having to speak too much. It put him at ease. "Yes, that does help, well.. get's us closer to solving the mystery." He hummed a chuckle, his baritone coming through, to much of his pleasure. He tilted his head toward the concierge, beckoning her to follow. "Glasgow, that's a short flight."

“Ah, gate number… yes.” Erin narrowed her eyes, trying to remember the gate number Sian had mentioned before leaving. “Fifty-four,” she blurted out before a feeling of uncertainty hit her. “Wait, or was it fify-three?” she murmured then, cupping her own chin thoughtfully. “I’m not sure now. I only remember it was fifty-something.” 

“Sorry, I’m quite forgetful when it comes to this kind of things. I have a lot on my mind,” she added with an apologetic smile. “But I know her flight was coming from Glasgow. Does that help?”  

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Martin could feel his throat go dry as Darcy's flush grew and he reasoned his fingers between hers. He wasn't comfortable with holding hands, he'd never done much of that, but since it was Darcy's hand that changed things. He kept his gaze focused on her, watching the question finally leave her perfect lips. Martin was at a loss for words, again, and he took a moment, hoping it was quick, to think on his response. "W-well, yes, but... I feel a bit less... resolute in not a-asking you myself." He was happy they weren't standing because he was pretty sure he'd be going weak at the knees at a time like this.

Hey, cutie!

[brilliantmartincrieff-blog]

"Lydia. Thank you very much Captain, Crieff"

"L-Lydia... lovely, um, so w-we're taking you to Paris are we? Have business there?" Martin asked with a flush, always becoming a bit chuffed when he was formally addressed by a client.

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"Oh, yes, i-it's fine. Martin is good, I mean... just Martin. Being called my full name might be strange and uncomfortable, I think, I like just Martin--Martin will be fine." He took a deep breath, resisting the urge to slap himself, thankful the woman took his hand as it helped the sudden impulse. He sucked in his bottom lip and tilted his head as she went on to explain her problem, still dressed in his captain attire, his small briefcase in hand.

It had been a long three days of travel to Dubai and back for one of their more pricey clients, filled with a whole new chain of chaos and angst, and Martin was looking forward to returning to his dim attic to sleep it all off for a good twelve hours. However, this woman's situation took priority, however sleepy he was. "D-do you know the gate number?" He finally replied, looking her over to see if she had a note with her friends information on it. "I... have clearance to check the incoming flights. Should be easy to find your friend."

“Nice to meet you, Martin. Oh wait, ,may I call you Martin?” Erin said with a soft laugh, shaking his hand firmly. “I have come to this airport because I need to pick a friend up, but her plane was supposed to land fifteen minutes ago, actually.” 

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Martin was taken by surprise as their fingers touched and then fit together, a blush immediately spreading across his cheeks. His back went stiff, along with every other muscle, and he forgot how to breathe for at least five seconds. "U-uh.." He stammered as she went on to list her favorite literature, his blush growing more red all along. He blinked a few times when she finally asked him a simple query, and he sucked in his lip, very enamored by her own lovely flush. "U-u-u-I... I... um... y-yes... of course." He tried to tame his nerves.

Hey, cutie!

[brilliantmartincrieff-blog]

"A-alright, u-um..." Martin licked his lower lip, shuffling on his feet, not use to being approached by women... especially such a beautiful woman! "E-Erin? Pleasure... I'm M-Martin. Martin Crieff. How can I help you?"

“Miss is fine.” Erin gave him a small smile and a nod. “My name’s Erin. And you are…?” she asked.