I apologize if there are any anachronistic elements to this story, or inconsistencies. I just thought it would be cute.


There were times when Corporal Newkirk really hated being a POW. Exhibit A: right now.

Thanks to cheap roofing mixed with a misfired baseball bounced off the roof of the barracks, there was now a disproportionately large hole right above Newkirk's bunk, around the place where his knees usually were. And because Klink was in a particularly cheapskate mood at the moment, he was unwilling to purchase the lumber needed to repair it until it seemed "absolutely necessary."

Thankfully it was late summer, so at least Newkirk didn't have to be too cold, but the hole meant that every time one of the camp's searchlights swept over the roof, he was startled out of his newest attempt at sleeping, leading him to silently curse the name Klink.

With a growl, the Englander vowed that in the morning he would try again to beg Hogan to just use some of their spare lumber to fix it and make up some kind of excuse to the Kommandant, or get a spare blanket to cover the hole, anything just so he could get some bloody sleep-

Below him, the bunk bed and then the floorboards creaked slightly, and something shuffled over to the barracks table. Startled out of his irritable musing, Newkirk turned onto his left side and squinted through the dark. A familiar awkward form with a blanket around his skinny shoulders was sitting on the table.


"Carter!" Newkirk hissed, pulling himself up on one elbow. "What're you doing? Get back in bed!"

"I can't, there's a meteor shower tonight!" came the excited reply.

"...A what?" Of all the ridiculous…

"There's gonna be a bunch of shooting stars going across the sky tonight, and the hole in the roof gives a good view of them! I thought I was gonna have to miss it, because we have curfew, but now I can watch with no problem!" Carter lapsed back into silence.


In some sense, Newkirk knew that he didn't really need to be annoyed by this. Carter wasn't doing anything to personally affect him, and besides, they weren't doing any big operations right now; so what if Carter wanted to do a little stargazing? But the fact that he was getting pleasure out of something that was causing Newkirk personally a lot of inconvenience and annoyance made him growl, "Ain't you got something better to do, like sleep?"

Carter hopped off the table and tiptoed over in his stocking feet. "Sleep? Haven't you ever watched a meteor shower, Newkirk?"

The Englander gritted his teeth slightly. "No."

"Well, if you had, you'd know that it's impossible to sleep while-wow." His face was clearer in the faint light from outside, and it had lit up in an expression of absolute wonder. "The view is so much better from here."

Carter placed his hands on the edge of Newkirk's bunk, boosting himself up so that his feet were on the edge of his own bunk down below, and he was closer to the hole. "In fact, I bet I could get the very best view if I-"

He was suddenly face to face with a very angry British corporal. "If you're about to suggest spending the whole night sitting on my bunk so you can watch a few comets, you can ruddy well forget it! Now get off and let me get some sleep!"

Carter slowly wilted under his friend's glare. "Oh. Okay." And he stepped down, walking back to the table and trying to make himself comfortable.


Oh, great.

Newkirk groaned inwardly. Carter had given him that look. The hurt, slightly bewildered expression that always made him feel like he'd just kicked a puppy; the look that showed up whenever Carter felt really hurt by being told off or insulted. And of course it made an uncomfortable feeling clench in Newkirk's gut, just like it did every time, making him feel like he'd gone too far in putting a damper on the younger man's impulsive nature.

It's not my fault, he told himself. I do need my sleep. And 'e wasn't respecting my boundaries, just because 'e wants to see some stupid stars. I don't have to pander to 'im.

Naturally, now he was completely awake and couldn't make the clenching in his gut go away, no matter what he tried to think about.

Finally, he sighed aloud, and sat up.

"If you kick me or spend all night nattering, I'll break your knees."

Carter seemed to take a second to understand what he meant, before eagerly hopping off the table again and scurrying over; now the puppy in Newkirk's mind was happily wagging his tail.

"Thanks, boy!" he whispered, scrambling onto the top bunk and seating himself cross-legged. And then he just...went still.


At first Newkirk didn't notice, because he was busy maneuvering his legs away from his friend and trying to find a new comfortable position despite the additional presence. But once he was lying down in a way that he thought he could sleep, he couldn't help noticing.

Carter, the one who never stopped talking and who always seemed to be fidgeting around for one reason or another...was being absolutely quiet and still. Just sitting there and staring up through the little hole in the roof, mouth open slightly, hands drooping in his lap.

Well, at least 'e listened to me. Doesn't mean I understand it. Why is 'e so interested?


What is wrong with me?!

Even though Carter had done exactly what Newkirk asked, he still found himself unable to sleep! Lie as still as he would, count as many sheep or girls as he did, his stupid brain wouldn't shut up. But the reason this time was different; he privately admitted. It was...curiosity. Curiosity about what could draw Carter's attention that much, make him so dedicated to seeing it that he'd be up late at night just for a tiny glimpse of the night sky through a hole in the roof.

The Englander sat up and scooted around until he was sitting by Carter, not caring if his nightshirt made this process undignified.

"Now, what's so great about seeing-" Three streaks of blue-white fire shot across the sky.

"...Oh."

A tiny flicker crossed Carter's face, which if Newkirk didn't know better he would have said was a smirk.

"The rest of the stars are a little harder to see because of all the searchlights here, but it's still really beautiful, isn't it?" he whispered.

Newkirk found himself nodding quietly, still gazing in some surprise and wonder as more meteors shot past. Even in the moments between, though, the sky was still beautiful, with the few stars they could see sparkling in the darkness. Certainly there were more than he'd ever seen in London.

"...I should have realized earlier that you probably don't get a lot of opportunities to see stuff like this," Carter finally said. "Sorry."

Newkirk shrugged. "It's all right, mate. I've never thought about it that much. But it all really is pretty, innit."

"Yeah. I used to do this all the time back home, even if there wasn't a meteor shower. Sometimes Angry Rabbit and I would take our sleeping bags out into a field and tell stories all night, like the birth of Fallen Star, one of our heroes. His mom went into the sky to marry a star, right where the Big Dipper is-"

He stopped.

"You're going to tell me to shut up now, aren't you?"

There was a pause. Then Newkirk said, "No, go on."

Carter's face split into one of the most delighted smiles he'd ever seen. "Really?!" Just in time he remembered to lower his voice so he wouldn't wake up everyone else.

Newkirk felt another twinge of guilt at how delighted his friend sounded at someone else actually wanting to keep listening to one of his stories. "Yeah, I wanna 'ear about Fallen Star's mum."

With a smile, Carter began telling him, as they kept watching the meteors fly by.


The part about Angry Rabbit and Fallen Star refers to the episode entitled "Drums Along the Dusseldorf," which says that Carter is part Sioux Indian. Fallen Star is an actual figure from Lakota legend, so it seemed fitting.

Review if you want; I like reviews, but don't want to demand them. Just silently beg and plead for input. *cue Carter making a kicked puppy face*