Title: Learning To Fly
Fandom: Cabin Pressure
Rating: PG-13
Length: 400 words
Content notes: Set right after Vaduz, so it contains spoilers for that episode.
Author notes: Written for the amnesty challenge on fan_flashworks. The title is a reference to the namesake song by Pink Floyd.
Summary: He didn't want to disappoint her, and yet he was painfully aware of his nerves getting the better of him.



Martin honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd enjoyed himself so much.

He loved Duxford Air Museum, and Theresa was a delightful companion for such a visit. She knew a lot about aeroplanes, happened to be genuinely interested in them unlike any of his former girlfriends.

Not that she was really his girlfriend, was she? If only he could stop being – well, himself, he thought wistfully. But then she would still be a princess, while he was an airline captain who actually earned a living out of his delivery job.

His mind started going round in circles, and he didn't utter a word on their way back to Fitton. He'd better keep his expectations low, spare himself the pain of the disillusionment that would inevitably follow. So much for enjoying their date of sorts, he sighed as he escorted Theresa to the hotel she was staying in.

"This is goodbye, I suppose," he said as they stopped in front of her room. "I hope you've had a pleasant afternoon."

"I certainly have. As a matter of fact I was looking forward to a pleasant evening too."

He only blinked in response to her flirtatious look. She didn't mean – surely she couldn't mean that.

"Martin, do you need me to spell it out for you?"

"I – huh – I'm not sure."

Theresa smirked, then gestured for the door. "I'm afraid my room hasn't been swept for assassins yet."

"Oh, I see," he winked conspiratorially as he followed her inside.

Her lips were against his own as soon as the door clicked shut. It had been such a long time since he'd last done this; he didn't want to disappoint her, and yet he was painfully aware of his nerves getting the better of him.

"Are you sure about this, Theresa?" he asked somewhat breathlessly, but the only answer he got was a trail of kisses along the line of his jaw.

"Just relax, Martin. It's a bit like flying, don't you think?"

"I've never been really good at flying," he reminded her, and was promptly silenced with another kiss.

"Don't worry, I'll be ready to step in if you need me to. I used to want to be a pilot, remember?"

"Was this a pre-take off briefing then?" he joked in spite of himself, and with that most of his nerves were gone.

Theresa laughed merrily and tugged him towards the bed.