Part one of the ‘Henry/Martin otter fic o’doom’ can be found here - now for a more angsty bit *evil cackle*
Love Is Not Love Which Alters When it Otteration Finds- Part 2
Henry had been registered as Martin’s next of kin for several months at the time of his death and, in an absence of another emergency contact, the police had called Carolyn. She was in her office, grumbling to herself about ‘useless pilots’ when the phone call came.
Douglas and Arthur were in the portakabin, Arthur tossing a Braeburn and Douglas amusing himself by coming up with increasingly unlikely excuses which Martin might use when he finally arrived, no doubt with his face a shade of red to rival Arthur’s abused apple.
What he was certainly not expecting was for Carolyn to emerge from her office looking like she had just been forced to remarry Gordon. The small smile that had been playing across his lips vanished as he looked at her questioningly. “Douglas, a word. In my office.”
The funeral was a predictably depressing affair and the lump which had formed itself in Douglas’s throat as the coffin containing MJN’s late captain, hat and all, had disappeared behind the curtain to the tune of ‘One Day I’ll Fly Away’ showed no sign of dissipating. Damn.
Arthur, red eyed and inconsolable, had run out mid way through the ceremony. Now he was nowhere to be found and a search party of sorts had been sent out with Douglas at the helm. A horrid thought occurred to him as the group neared the river. Arthur had been upset, yes, but surely he wouldn’t have..?
Thankfully, his morbid thoughts stopped there as he spotted their elusive steward. He was about to call to him when he noticed something extremely peculiar indeed which caused him to enact what would have been an exceedingly comical double take had anyone been around to witness it. Fortunately he was alone with his imaginings, because surely he must be seeing things?
The closer he got, the more certain he was that Douglas Richardson, former ‘sky god’, had finally lost his mind. No matter how many times he blinked and shook his head, the image remained. Arthur, sat on the bank of the river, talking to two otters who were, to all intents and purposes, ‘talking’ back. Absurd!
Skip was brilliant… Skip’s boyfriend was brilliant… they couldn’t be dead! The very thought of not having them around just couldn’t be supported by Arthur’s unrealistically optimistic world-view. He had left part way through the funeral because he hadn’t been able to listen to the lies they’d been saying about Skip having gone to a better place. There was no place better than GERTI!
And his mum had told him that Martin was going to be ‘cremated’. And Arthur had looked that word up on the internet and gathered that that meant ‘really burnt’, like the pizza he had been cooking last week and had forgotten about for a couple of hours. But that was silly; Skip couldn’t fly a plane if he was all black and crispy. And he wouldn’t like for his hat to be like that either!
As it turned out, he needn’t have worried. His eternal and all encompassing theory that ‘Douglas would make everything alright in the end’ seemed to have been justified once again. Though how Douglas had managed to turn Skip and Henry into otters was quite beyond him. This was even more brilliant than the time he had managed to land them in that really pretty field after GERTI’s electrics had failed.
When Arthur was little, one of his best friends had fallen out of a tree and hurt his back. He had been really sad about being a bit broken until Arthur had convinced him of all the reasons why wheelchairs were brilliant and they had come up with all sorts of new games that they could play.
This, to his mind, was just like that. It didn’t matter to him that Skip and Henry’s forms had changed. They would always be counted among the most brilliant and really really clever people that Arthur had known and he would always believe in them. Because that’s what friends do.
(Yes, this is more crack fic. Also more Martin/Henry. A gift for my flatmate who has an interview today.)
The Dreams in Which We’re Rabbits Are the Best I’ve Ever Had
It was when he woke one night, terrified and breathless from a nightmare of teeth and claws, that he first noticed Martin’s unusual habit. Having been in a relationship for five months and sharing a bed for three, Henry couldn’t have failed to notice that his boyfriend was quite the cuddler, but this was different. Snuffling against his ear and occasionally tugging at it, it was almost as if Martin was trying to groom him.
Over the next few weeks the incidents became more frequent and Henry found that he was occasionally woken not by his dreams but instead by his bedfellow’s unconscious attempts to flatten tufts of hair. He couldn’t help but wonder what he was dreaming about that made him so… aggressively affectionate.
He knew he should probably mention it, but it didn’t seem like a topic one could broach over breakfast: “darling, what precisely is it that occurs in your dreams to make you suddenly desire to lick my hair? Could you pass me the butter dish, please?” He had heard people refer to their partners as being ‘animals’ in bed, but he doubted they meant the woodland variety.
As so often is the case, the facts of the matter came out unexpectedly and without conscious prompting on Henry’s part. They had been taking Martin’s niece out for the day and had popped into a pet shop when Henry noticed his partner pause at the rabbit pen and stare down as if lost in thought. Martin caught his questioning look and mused, “do you ever wonder what it would be like to be one of them?”
In truth, no, he hadn’t, though it would appear he had at least had a crash course in leporine grooming rituals. In Martin’s dreams, they were both rabbits. No one judged them, and they were free from everything except, of course, the constant threat of being eaten- though given that Henry felt that anyway whenever he saw anything vaguely canine, it didn’t seem like a bad life, all in all. Not bad at all.
Oh God! I feel I’ve been plagiarised :-p I’ve just been informed by a very embarrassed anti-Martin/Henry someone (you know who you are, you little troll, you) that she may or may not have ‘borrowed’ a quotation of mine from gchat and used it in a drunken Anon message and now it has a hash tag…
Can I just state, for the record, that though I do not myself ship Henry and Martin (or Martin and Molly) and though I whine about them at every opportunity to friends, I don’t approve of ship wars and would never want to involve myself in one. Quite the opposite, in fact, since I myself find it easier to write pairings I don’t follow.
So, long live the good ship Prissy and Squealy and many thanks to all of you who write Cabin Pressure fic of any kind. Long may it continue!
Err… I don’t. I ship Titanic / Iceberg more than I ship Henry / Martin.
I’ve done some cracky fics about them, but they’ve been either otters or rabbits, so I doubt that really counts towards much.
My favourite character is, and always will be, Douglas and I find him hard to write because of it. I don’t much care about Martin in comparison to Douglas so he’s much easier, and I don’t care about Henry AT ALL, even in the context of Sherlock, so he’s really, really easy to write.
Essentially I’ve been a) a lazy writer and b) wanting to write things to amuse my flatmate…
Oh goodness, this could be a long list… I don’t like Henry, at all. He really irritated me in Hounds and then, just as I thought he was gone and I wouldn’t have to think about him again, he went and popped up in Cabin Pressure fic.
I’m also not all that keen on Martin, if I’m honest. I like him well enough with the other characters, but without them I find him, like Henry, rather annoying. The thing is that, while he’s supposed to be the ‘pathetic’ character we all feel sorry for, I don’t at all because I would love to have his life. If his existence is horrid then I dread to think what people would make of my life if it ever turned into a fandom (which it would appear it is… hmm… *gets ready to be whumped*)
My favourite character is Douglas and, for obvious reasons, he’s not really going to be the focus of a Henry/Martin fic (if he appears at all). This is an immediate turn-off for someone who won’t read fic without him in it. Yes, I could just scroll past and ignore the pairing, and I do, but I also RP it and write crack about it; this might seem masochistic but since I live with the First Officer of its ship there’s really no hope of avoiding it altogether so I guess it’s just something I’m stuck with until something else comes along.