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The snow crunches under Medic's feet as he walks outside. A short distance away, he can see a figure with a telescope, staring up at the clear sky. He's walked a ways out from the base to get here; any closer and the light pollution ruins the picture from the scope, as Demo's told him dozens of times in the past.
“Anything of interest tonight?” he asks as he finally approaches Demo.
“Depends what you mean,” he says, eye still pressed against the telescope as he turns it.
“Well, what have you seen?” Medic asks, tipping his face up to the sky.
“The usual.” He steadies the telescope. “Here, if you look through this you can see Gemini.”
Demo backs off the telescope to let him have a look. Medic is careful not to move it any as he puts his eye to it. “Ah, yes. It actually looks a little like two people.”
“Aye. Most constellations are complete shite, if you ask me. Have you ever seen Cassopeia? Or the bloody triangle?”
“The Bloody Triangle?”
“'S called Triangulum. Just a triangle! Who decided on these things, is what I want to know, because they were feckin' terrible at it.”
“I think it's something of an ancient tradition,” Medic says, straightening up. “Though I too would like to know exactly what those men were thinking when they decided on names.”
“As something of an expert on the subject,” Demo says, “I think they were drunk.”
“Quite possibly.”
They stand in silence for a few moments, the wind blowing Medic's long coat and stirring the snow.
“Why'd you come out here, anyway, doc? It's freezing.”
“That is precisely why I came out, because I know you and I know you're a Dummkopf who wouldn't prepare himself properly to stand outside all night.” He reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces a long, striped scarf. Stepping closer to Demo, he loops it several times around his neck and face to protect him from the worst of the wind. “There.”
“Thanks, doc,” he mumbles from underneath all the wool. “But you did it all wrong.”
“What? I did not. It's supposed to be like that, to keep your idiotic face warm while you look for flying saucers!”
“Oh, it's right to keep my face warm,” he says, “but it's all wrong to do this.”
Demo tugs the fabric around the lower half of his face off and leans in to give the doctor a kiss. It's a little awkward, since the scarf keeps trying to jump back into place and their noses are freezing, but that's soon forgotten.
“As much as I'd like to stay,” Medic says afterwards, his arms still around Demo, “I can no longer feel my feet. I'm going back inside.”
“All right.”
“Let me know if you find any aliens.”
“Extraterrestrials, doc, I've told you a thousand times -”
“Or if you get hypothermia. I've got several good cures for that.”
“If I say I've got hypothermia now,” Demo says, grinning wolfishly, “will you start right away?”
Medic just readjusts Demo's scarf so it's back over his nose. “Not if it means staying outside.”