Chapter Text
"Carolyn, we can't fly to California! We only ordered enough fuel to travel from Fitton to New York and back to Fitton. And I have a van job tomorrow, which I put on the calendar last week. It's out of the question!" Martin huffed, folding his slender arms over his chest and glaring with absolutely no authority whatsoever. Carolyn smirked.
"Martin, there's no use trying your 'supreme commander' routine on me. We will fuel up at the airport and fly the lovely customer, who has arranged everything and is paying handsomely for the privilege, to sunny California and then home to dreary Fitton. And since I now pay you to fly, you can cancel that van job and do your real job."
Douglas cleared his throat in Carolyn's direction. She rolled her eyes heavenward and asked, "What now?"
"Carolyn, we can't fly to California! I made reservations for Martin and I at Antonio's tomorrow evening. That has also been on the calendar for a week. Do you know how difficult it was to get those reservations? Antonio's is quite exclusive." Douglas sniffed, folding his muscular arms over his chest and glaring with much more authority than Martin. Carolyn smirked again.
"If it sweetens the pot at all, and even if it doesn't, Mr. Brentwood has made reservations for us in his hotel. As in his own personal, five-star hotel in swanky Beverly Hills. He said we can do anything we want for two days and he is footing the bill. So do shut up already, the both of you!"
Martin sighed and tossed a sideways glance at his boyfriend, who was smiling from ear to ear.
"Douglas," Martin groaned.
"Oh, Martin, if we must, we must. Mr. Brentwood is, after all, the customer, and the customer is always right."
"That's not what you're thinking, is it?"
"Not really, sir. I was thinking more along the lines of a candlelit dinner in our room, followed by a riveting movie of my choosing, and then a night of wondrous sex."
Martin cleared his throat. "Oh, well, since you put it that way..."
Put that way, Martin now looked forward to their two days in California, humming as Gerti soared over the United States.
"You've changed your tune," Douglas teased, watching his boyfriend smile at some unknown thought. "So, tell me what's going through that captainy head of yours."
"Oh, I was just remembering that night we spent in Bristol, remember? At that little seaside inn?"
Before Douglas could remark that he did indeed remember and now needed a bit of a cold shower, Arthur banged through the flight deck door with the drinks trolley. Douglas and Martin turned toward their steward and glared, an act which went completely unnoticed. Arthur carried on without skipping a beat.
"Coffees, chaps," he bubbled enthusiastically. "Just the way you like them. And some of those brilliant hob nobs from Mum's personal stash. Although I probably shouldn't have told you that..."
Martin shook his head. "We know she has a personal stash, Arthur."
"You do, Skip? Wow! Because I didn't even know until today, when it fell on my head from the upper cabinet in the galley!"
"Good heavens, Arthur, were you hurt?" Douglas asked, although he suspected not. Arthur would probably say -
"It was brilliant! The bin fell open and all sort of treats poured out!"
Douglas threw Arthur one of his patented eye rolls. "Of course. Thank you, Arthur. Now we really must..."
Douglas stopped speaking because Arthur stopped listening. He was staring out the flight deck window, an even more confused look than usual plastering his face.
"Sorry to interrupt, Douglas, but I have a question. The sky is usually blue, right?"
Douglas and Martin exchanged pointed glances.
"Yes, Arthur, the sky is blue," Douglas said slowly. "Why do you ask?"
"Well," Arthur replied, pointing toward the window, "the sky isn't blue here. I thought it was blue everywhere!"
Douglas and Martin turned to look out of the window and gasped in unison. The sky was, indeed, not blue.
"It's...it's...it's purple!" Martin cried. "When did that happen?"
"That can't be right, it must be an illusion," Douglas growled, quickly checking over the instruments. "A reflection off of water droplets in the clouds..."
"No, Douglas, it's purple. Very, very purple. The grape jam I smeared on my toast this morning wasn't even that purple." Martin joined Douglas in checking the instruments.
"We're flying over the desert. Nevada. It's probably a heat reaction, Martin. It has to be something explainable. I'll radio the tower."
Douglas pressed the button, but the radio was dead.
"Alright now, don't panic!" he cried, watching Martin prepare to do just that.
"What...what...oh God, Douglas!...what do we do?"
"Try the sat phone, Martin!"
He did, and then shook his head.
"Not working, either!"
"Chaps, are we in a spot of bother?" Arthur asked, leaning on the instrument panel and staring at the purple sky with a huge smile on his face.
Martin and Douglas both turned to Arthur at the same time and yelled, "Yes!"
"Should I fetch Mum?"
"Yes, I think so, Arthur," Douglas sighed. "We should tell her. But don't say anything to Mr. Brentwood until we know what's going on!"
"That'll be easy. He's been asleep. Off I go."
Arthur banged back out through the door with the trolley, still smiling as if the previous conversation had never taken place.
"That boy," Douglas growled. "I'd swear in court he has a toblerone for a brain!"
Martin whimpered. He tapped the instruments and shook his head.
"What's going on, Douglas? The instruments aren't moving. We're supposed to be flying over Nevada but the instruments are frozen. I don't know where we are. The sky is purple. Oh, God, what do we do?"
"Keep calm, captain. There must be a logical explanation. Let's think this through."
As if on cue, Carolyn burst through the flight deck door, out of breath.
"Arthur told me to hurry. Woke me out of a sound sleep! He said we're in trouble, something about a purple sky. That boy..."
Douglas pointed out the flight deck window and Carolyn screamed.
"Oh my God! What...I mean...well I never...did you radio the tower?"
"And therein lies the problem, O Mistress of the Bloody Obvious. Our instrument panel is down. Kaput. Nothing works. Not even the sat phone." Douglas slashed a finger across his throat and shook his head.
Carolyn opened her mouth to speak, but was stunned into silence when, instead of a purple sky, a room full of people materialized around Gerti.
And then the universe exploded.