It wasn't uncommon to find the doctor absorbed to the point of absolute ignorance. Usually that was with some kind of unethical experiment, or his precious doves, or the ever gruelling stack of paperwork that lined his desk. But Heavy had never seen him so engrossed in his music.
Medic was sat in a well-worn armchair, his chin propped against his knuckles and his eyes open only a sliver. The low flames from the fireplace reflected in the bell of the gramophone, which sang one of the many violin classics that he so loved. Heavy could count the German composers he knew on one hand. Perhaps Anton Samitz, or Christian Cannabich.
At any rate, Medic hadn't noticed when Heavy entered much less when he had silently leaned against the doorframe to watch his doctor with a soft, amused smile. Medic's slim legs were crossed at the knee, his suspended foot swaying gently to the music. Though he could hardly carry a tune, he softly hummed the melody along with the droning gramophone. The record was obviously well-loved, as Heavy figured it had at one point sounded a lot clearer, but Medic didn't seem to mind. Maybe the Russian would buy him a new one for Smissmas.
The song eventually came to an end, and Medic heaved a content sigh, closing his eyes all the way and smiling ever-so-slightly against his hand. Heavy uncrossed his arms and made his way across the room, the thump of his approaching footsteps finally stirring the doctor back from his distracted thoughts. Large hands delicately placed the needle back to the beginning of the record, and as the notes began again, one extended out to Medic.
"Dance with me, Doktor?"
Medic simply grinned.