SUMMARY: It was like Divine Providence or Lady Luck or God - whoever deity you want to praise, even Loki or something - had deemed to smile on him. He needed more days like these. (And more he shall be given. Drabbles of Happy Martin in all universes he lands in. General Fluff, may have the occasional Martin/Molly)

A/N: -MARTIN HAPPY FLUFF because tinaofficial (from tumblr) wanted one and so I made one okay. And 'sides, poor Martin and all the angst. He needs the fluff, okay. Special guest: Molly Hooper.


It was, all in all, not a very good day for Martin.

The rain poured rather heavily, and the roof didn't quite take to it and so his attic was filled with puddles.

Martin didn't have a decent brolly with him, and his van had broken down in the middle of London.

He had to fly the next day, and his uniform hadn't been washed just yet because everyone in the building he occupied deemed that day laundry day, apparently, and all the machines were taken.

He hadn't eaten in a while, either, at that, and his stomach had been rumbling in protest the whole day.

No, not a very good day at all.


It was a great day.

It was like Divine Providence or Lady Luck or God - whoever deity you want to praise, even Loki or something - had deemed to smile on him that day.

His landlord had noticed how wet he was from being indoors, and sent him away helpfully into a room that was just recently vacated by one of the students who opted to live on-campus. He told Martin that he could move in a day if he wished. The man would even mark down the price for a month because he was feeling extra-generous (because he won in the betting pool the day before).

A woman - a lovely one at that, a pathologist from St. Bart's - offered to walk with him back to his van (and imagine - he stuttered and fumbled through the conversation but she laughed appropriately at all the awkward jokes and told him that he was adorable), and upon finding the van broken down, asked if he wanted a lift and dinner, and she insisted to pay because it was a miserable day and she wanted to make someone smile.

The dinner was amazing (and filling - oh dear god, fish and chips), and the woman - Molly, he corrected in his head - Molly wrote her number on the cuffs of his shirt and his hand and in his small notebook for Icarus jobs (she had joked that it was so he would never forget to call her - as if he would ever).

When he got back to the flat, one of the students handed his uniform over, saying that he didn't notice that he was washing someone else's clothes already (and thank God, really, that it didn't end up stained or shrunken or anything which was a miracle) due to his rather messy pile of clothes.

He needed more days like these.