"I Was Doing My Logbook"

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A Martin/Douglas ficlet. Somehow, Martin has managed to get Douglas to agree to do some paperwork, in a limited sense.
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Douglas groaned as Martin placed a small stack of papers in front of him. Though it wasn't much, it was still more paperwork than Douglas had at once in years. Or maybe ever, it was hard to tell.
"Thank you so much for this, Douglas. I really appreciate it." Martin sat down on the other side of the desk behind his considerably larger stack of papers. 
"Well, it does look like you need it." Douglas sighed theatrically, and looked at the top sheet. Martin passed him a pen, which he took with a grumpy frown and set to work. 
Martin wondered just how long Douglas' sort of willingness to do paperwork would last. He had expected to get laughed at, and to hear jokes about his conscientious nature all week, so it had been a wonder Douglas had agreed to help at all, knowing his usual aversion to anything even slightly like work. 
It turned out that Douglas only managed one set of stapled sheets before getting bored. He started to swizzle on his chair, and chewed on the end of the pen, clear signs that he couldn't be bothered any more. Martin tried to encourage him to keep going, but Douglas just frowned even more grumpily than before, over exaggerating his expression to prove his point. Martin couldn't help but notice that really, the first officer looked incredibly tired beyond his snarky persona. Even so, it was a surprise when he started almost dozing off halfway through a sentence. 
"Douglas?" 
"Mmm?" He blinked a few times and yawned. "I'm fine." 
"You can go if you want to." Martin said, trying not to sound disappointed. At least Douglas had helped a little bit. 
"No, no. I said I'd help and so I will." Douglas picked up the pen stubbornly. After only a few more words he was fighting the urge to doodle little stars all down the margin. 
This limited sense of help only lasted so long, as when Martin looked up to check how little Douglas was doing five minutes later, he had fallen completely asleep, slumped back in his chair. Martin paused for a moment to smile at him, relishing in the opportunity to admire Douglas while he was sleeping and completely relaxed, and almost vulnerable.
Martin got up and wandered over to the filing cabinet in the corner. As much as he needed the help with his work, he didn't want to disturb Douglas' sleep if he was that tired. He opened the bottom drawer. Just as he had left them were two neatly folded blankets. It wasn't the first time he'd fallen asleep on the job.
Uncertain of how to go about it, Martin unfolded one of the blankets and draped it over Douglas awkwardly and unevenly. He smiled slightly at his effort, and went about laying the second blanket over the sleeping first officer. Pleased with himself, he sat back down and continued working.
Martin had managed to do about three quarters of the work in front of him, and all that he'd given to Douglas, who he had stopped paying attention to. He was still sound asleep, or at least as far as he was aware.
Really, Douglas had woken about ten minutes after Martin had wrapped him up. The blankets were surprisingly comfortable, and though he'd never admit it, he was grateful for Martin's thoughtfulness. He found himself wondering just how often Martin had fallen asleep in his little office. He wouldn't be prepared if it wasn't a one off thing.
However, he wasn't going to spoil the illusion of sleep, as it provided the perfect opportunity to spy on the captain. Douglas found himself noticing how Martin bit his lips and twiddled his fingers when he was thinking. He was also humming quietly to himself, though what the tune was, who could tell.
Douglas peeked out from under his eyelids, and watched Martin shuffle in his chair, moving back and forth slightly. Douglas found his eyes drawn to his face, noting the stray ginger curl on his forehead, and the freckles that lined his nose. Martin had a pen between his lips, inattentively sucking on it. Douglas shut his eyes quickly, though the image was firmly set in his mind's eye. Knowing his cover was blown, he blinked a few times, waking up.
Martin glanced up, and his face flushed red. "Oh, hello, Douglas. Nice sleep?"
"Lovely, thank you." Neither man said anything about the blankets as Douglas stretched, pushing them away. "Done with paperwork?"
"Almost." Martin said with a sigh, his expression becoming downcast.
"Give it to me." said Douglas, reaching down to retrieve the pen on the floor. Martin looked at him, confused and startled. "Well, do you want help or not?"
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