The Piano

Summary: Tonight, she wasn't going to be the Detective Bonasera, but the Musical Bonasera, sitting there playing notes so naturally like getting a suspect to confess to a murder. Then her best friend comes along and things change the normal routine of Musical Bonasera for that one night.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI: NY or any of its characters, they belong to the rightful owner. Nor am I making any money out of this fanfic.

A/N: I guess in my mind pianos and Stella Bonasera goes together really well. The inspiration also struck while listening to Regina Spektor, Beethoven, and Mozart. Hurrah for late night inspiration (a quarter till midnight right now)!

They say there are always two sides to every person. The most stereotypical would be the good and bad side, the evil dark side no one knows about, or the alter ego. Sometimes it's maybe even two personalities.

For Detective Stella Bonasera, she is the one who has the secret side no one (not even her closest friend) knows. It's not an evil or dark side, though. It's one of those sides consisting of someone doing a hobby, a hobby no one really expects you to do. This hobby, for the Greek detective, is piano playing. She knows if she would tell any of her colleagues that she mostly self-taught herself how to play piano when she was a child in the orphanage, they would reply with widened eyes or a "You should play for us sometime!" In that building, you just have to find the small basement doors to the small theater with the old, black, dusty piano.

Stella would always go to this basement every other day, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays plus Saturday and Sunday. Sometimes she would bring a small piano songbook to experiment with new songs, or maybe she would just play some songs she could play out of memory. Maybe she would even compose a small simple melody herself or even sing with the melodious sound of the instrument. Singing, though, was one talent people already knew about (and her voice is highly complimented.)

But aside from all that, when Stella sat on a piano seat in front of the piano, she turned from Detective Bonasera to a Musical Bonasera, all just for one night. No one needs to know.

Here she was again, on the piano seat, once again Musical Bonasera. She decided to play Mozart's Piano Sonata no. 11 in A Major. Nice, soft, music began to fill the silent air. This was one out of the many classical music songs Stella can play on the piano without the aid of sheet music.

The playing practically took Stella into another world. The rhythm, the music, the atmosphere… they all took away her thoughts and emotions of the grieving families of a victim, the hatred of criminals, and even the annoying naggings in work. Now dominating her mind were endless thoughts of music (and the occasional pondering on whether that A sharp was actually supposed to be an F sharp.)

Halfway through the music piece, Stella heard the basement doors open slightly. She stopped playing in fear it was one of the nuns. Once in a while, the piano playing would get out of hand and be a little loud so some of the nuns have to tell Stella to quiet down or stop.

"Why did you stop?" a small voice of a young girl asked. Stella frowned, wondering where she was; because the only light she got was the light from a candle she lit to guide herself in the dark.

The young girl then came into view and sat next to Stella on the piano. She had nice tanned skin, auburn hair, and she was wearing dark colored pajamas. She must be one of the children from the orphanage.

"Are you the piano player I hear every other night?" the young girl asked. She was very young, probably seven or eight years old at the least.

"I guess I am," Stella replied. "Why are you awake so late?"

"I have really bad nightmares. But then I wake up hearing piano, and it's all better; like putting a band-aid on a boo-boo. Why do you do this?"

"It brings back memories at the orphanage from when I was your age."

The girl raised her eyebrows.

"You stayed here?" she asked in surprise.

"Yup. I lived here most of my childhood. This is where I first taught myself how to play the piano."

"You taught yourself? Wow!"

"Well, somebody taught me the basics, but I learned the rest of the complicated stuff myself. I also snuck out at night once in a while because of waking up from nightmares."

The girl giggled, liking the fact that her and her new acquaintance has something in common.

"I'm Stella, by the way," Stella said, holding out her hand.

"Stella," the girl echoed, her voice cracking a bit for whatever reason why. "That was my sister's name, I think. It means 'star.' I'm Iris."

"Is your sister with you?"

"No. She died at car crash with my parents. I guess I was the only one who survived. I grew up never really having a family, never knowing about him."

Iris sniffled, indicating she was crying. Stella could relate her in the exact same way.

"Don't worry," Stella replied in a soft voice, consoling Iris. "My mom also died at a car crash here when we visited here from Greece. That's why I ended up here."

Iris looked at Stella and smiled. Her cheeks had tear trails on them. She must be glad also to have someone relate to.

Without words, Stella started playing again, now playing something by Tchaikovsky. Iris stared at Stella's hands, in awe, wondering how the hands can be capable of making great sounds fill the air.

Once again, halfway through the song, the basement doors opened again, resulting in Stella and Iris jumping a mile off of the chair. Iris panicked; worried that it would be one of the nuns.

"Hide behind the piano," Stella whispered to Iris, pointing to the small blocked area behind the piano. She quickly ran behind it before footsteps could be heard walking towards the piano, gradually becoming louder. While that was happening, Stella was pretending to remember what notes to play, and she was bracing for a lecture by the nuns.

"Stella."

The low-pitched voice completely took Stella by surprise. But it couldn't be him. She never told him about her piano playing nights. Or did she?

Stella slowly turned around to see the tall, handsome man standing in front of her: Detective Mac Taylor: her boss, colleague, and one of her closest friends on earth. They've been friends and colleagues for more than a decade, and they have one of the closest friendships in the building they worked in. Stella could recall the times they've been there for each other: when Mac's wife, Claire, died in 9/11, Stella almost getting killed by an ex-boyfriend, her HIV scare, her apartment on fire, and the time when Mac followed Stella to her homeland, Greece for a case. Some people would think of Mac and Stella as a couple, since "they were perfect for each other." But till this day, Mac and Stella's relationship is only a platonic one (though it is said that they have been flirting with each other a little bit lately).

"Hi, Mac," Stella said, flustered from the fact that Mac was here. She never told him that she played piano secretly. "How did you find me?"

"There's a music store down the street," Mac replied, taking a seat next to Stella on the piano seat. Stella's hands were on her knees in the really awkward way. "I always go there to get music supplies or to get my guitar tuned up." Mac also has a musical side playing the base guitar, but that was already known to Stella. "Every few days I see you slip into the orphanage, so I decided to pay a visit."

"How did you know I was going to be at the basement?"

"You told me about the basement you would always sneak to at night, except you never told me about you playing the piano. You even showed me this place once."

I did? Stella asked herself, slightly glad they were in the darkness with only candlelight to illuminate both her and Mac.

"It's one of those hobbies I don't want to tell anyone about," Stella said. "It's the time when I can actually think."

"You have great talent. When did you start playing?"

Stella took a deep breath, and she told of her story of her involvement in music.

"I was twelve years old," Stella started. "It was one of those days where I would go to the local public library to get a few books. Being a curious kid as I am, I heard music from the second level, the part of the library for adults. So I went to the adult's level and in the music section, there was a twenty-one year old man who was playing Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven. I couldn't help but listen. It was the way he played and the composition of the music that had me listening. At the end, I was just staring at him in amazement. It was incredible, beyond words…"

"You like Beethoven?" the man asked, delighted that someone (especially a young child) took the time to listen in full attention to him.

"I like the music," twelve-year-old Stella replied, slowly walking up to the piano. It was nicely shining because of the reflection from the sun outside. "But I don't know a lot about it."

"Really? Do you listen to music often?"

"No."

"Well, I have a few months to live, so, I might make most out of it teaching someone who's interested in music."

"A few months to live?"

"I have leukemia. The doctors said I have six months to live, unless they find a cure for the cancer, which I doubt. I mean, I should be at the hospital, resting, but I couldn't resist the call of the piano. My family's very musical."

Stella didn't know what to say next. She couldn't find the right words to say, since a "Dang that sucks," seems too informal. An "I'm very sorry about that," would seem plagiaristic.

"Where's your family?" the guy asked. "Maybe I could talk to them in giving you some lessons on the piano."

"I don't have a family," Stella replied. "I live at the orphanage down the street."

"That's perfect! My aunt is a nun there. Do you know Sister Treylani?"

Stella nodded.

"She's one of the nicest," Stella said.

"She always talks about one girl with curly hair and green eyes," the man said. Stella tilted her head, since she had the very same description. "She would always say, 'Stella matches her meaning: star. I know I shouldn't pick favorites but I can't help it. Stella's a very brilliant child.'"

"Wait, but I'm Stella." Stella was taken aback by this compliment.

"Well then, she says you're a really lovely girl. I'm Benjamin."

They shook hands.

"So we have a deal?" Benjamin asked. "I can ask Auntie and I'll give you lessons?"

Stella shrugged like it was nothing, but inside she was screaming "YES!" in excitement.

"Stella!" someone shouted in whisper in a distance. They had to go now.

"I guess you gotta go now. I really hope I can teach you piano. I mean, you've got strict people back at your orphanage, and I've got a busy schedule."

"Bye, Benjamin," Stella said with a smile.

"Benjamin and I became very close friends, he was like the big brother who cared for his sister and I was the sister who looked up to her brother very much. Benjamin talked to Sister Treylani, and we had a deal that he could teach me. So it went on for months of me learning the piano. I was a fast learner. Benjamin called me a natural, since I could start playing all three movements of Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven within the first three months. Then I started playing in front of crowds. My first recital was right here at the basement with all the sisters and kids staring at me."

Stella turned her back to the piano to overlook the dark basement theater.

"They said they loved it. Some people even repeated Benjamin's words: I was a natural. Even though people thought I mastered the piano, Benjamin still insisted I practice with him. Then his last month came by fast. I practiced every night and day in honor for him, since the sisters didn't allow me to go to the hospital. I would always ask Sister Treylani to tell him about my progress with my piano."

"Stella."

Stella stood beside Benjamin's hospital bed, with his family overlooking her. Earlier, Benjamin took almost three hours talking about teaching the piano to someone he met in the library, and there she is, the thirteen-year-old girl. He had asked the nurses for her to come in so many times. Though they protested that only family could visit, Benjamin said Stella was like a sister to him.

"Hi, Benjamin," Stella said, her voice barely a whisper. "I can't believe it."

"What?" Benjamin asked. He looked so weak in that bed and the beeping of the heart rate monitor was NOT helping.

"You're gonna… gonna…" Stella couldn't say the word "die." She already lost a lot, some including her whole family and a few friends who got adopted. Now Benjamin was going to be included in that list.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Benjamin took Stella's hand. "I've already done my part in this world, and I guess God is calling out to me a little earlier than usual. And my goal was to pass down my music knowledge to a different generation, so I'm basically done." Benjamin sighed. It seemed as if every word he said, he was becoming weaker to the point where he was just creaking out words. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?" Stella asked, leaning a little closer so she could hear.

"I have a stack of all my songbooks in a box. I didn't teach you everything, so I count on you to teach yourself. I know you can do it. Please promise me."

Stella, her eyes watering, linked her pinky with Benjamin's pinky, making a pinky promise.

"I promise," she whispered.

Benjamin sighed and closed his eyes.

"I think God's ready," he whispered.

"No, Benjamin," Stella pleaded, tears coming down her face as the heart rate monitor started beeping wildly. "Please, please…"

The nurses rushed in as the heart rate monitor showed a line. Stella was sobbing as Benjamin's family rushed in. Sister Treylani, who was also crying, hugged Stella.

"So that was it. I attended his funeral and I made the promise in trying to teach myself everything he didn't teach me yet. When I finally mastered it, I was already in the police academy. So, yeah. That's my story of my piano playing. Whenever I play, sometimes I'd hear his voice in my head kind of advising me on how to play."

"So Benjamin was really special," Mac finally said after patiently listening to Stella's story.

"I guess," Stella replied. "He's one of the five special people I really care about."

"Who are the five?"

"Benjamin, my mother, Professor Papakota, Claire, and you."

Mac slightly flinched when he heard the name "Claire." Claire Conrad was Mac's wife who died in 9/11. Stella has been friends with Mac for so long that both she and Claire became well acquainted with each other. Though it was hard to reconcile, he would know that Claire wanted him to move on. He even had a girlfriend once, but that didn't work out too good.

"I'm in the list?" Mac then asked.

Stella turned to him, giving him a glare that meant, "Wow, seriously?"

"Wow, Mac," Stella finally said. "Very modest, huh? Of course you'd be on that list, silly. You're one of the closest friends I've had all my life besides Benjamin"

There was silence. It was the good kind of silence, though, not the awkward one. Mac and Stella's friendship always consisted of silences that truly felt golden.

Without word, Stella then laid her hands on the piano and started playing Moonlight Sonata: the song that got her playing the piano. It was the song that made the foundation of Musical Stella from when she was twelve. It was the song that started everything.

While she was playing, Iris's head popped out just slightly, so she was in view of Stella, but not Mac. She gave a thumbs-up and Stella winked and smiled in reply. When she was done playing all three movements, she sighed and slid closer to Mac until both of their arms were against each other.

"Sorry," Stella said. "I'm cold."

"Do you need my jacket?" Mac asked.

"Nah, I'm fine."

"Now it's your turn to be modest." Stella could feel Mac take off his jacket. "You're shivering."

Once the jacket draped over Stella's shoulders, she mumbled, "Thanks."

Then, Stella slightly widened her eyes at the candle. Only now did she notice that the candle ran out of wax and the last of the string was burning out. The fire died out. Now, blackness surrounded Mac, Stella, and the well-hidden Iris. There were no windows for the moonlight to seep in.

"Um, great," Stella said, staring directly at where the candle might have been. Now we have to find our way back without any light to guide us. She stood up and inserted her arms in the jacket sleeves. "Iris!"

"Yeah?" Iris answered.

"Who's…" Mac started to ask. Stella interrupted him.

"Iris is a girl from the orphanage," Stella said, holding her hands out to find Iris. She felt the young girl's hands and gripped the right hand. "She hears me every night. Iris, this is my friend, Mac."

"Hi, Mac," Iris whispered, even though she couldn't see him.

"Nice to meet you Iris," Mac replied. "Now let's get out of here. Where are you?"

"I'm right over- oof!"

In trying to find Mac, Stella accidentally bumped into Mac. It sent her tumbling down, but somehow Mac got Stella's arms just in time. Their faces ended up being so close to each other their noses were touching.

"Are you alright?" Mac asked.

"Whoa, you're close to my face!" Stella exclaimed. A second after that her head jerked forward in surprise in such a way that hers and Mac's lips smashed together, just like a kiss.

Both of them gasped, but they didn't want to pull away. In fact, Stella let go of Iris's hand (who was still confused at what was happening), placed her hands on Mac's neck, and stood upright. They were glad that they were in the darkness because Iris couldn't see and their faces would probably be as red as tomatoes.

What broke the "kiss" was when Iris spoke up.

"What's going on?" she asked in a really nervous voice. When she heard the kiss break apart, she added, "Um, are you…"

"Shh," Stella said softly, still brain-dead. She found Iris's and Mac's hand and held it again. "Let's, uh, get out of here."

"Yeah," Mac added, also as flustered as Stella.

"Are you two…" Iris started, but was interrupted again.

"No," Mac said.

"Maybe," Stella said at the same time as Mac. He managed to find Stella's foot to stomp on.

* * * * *

When Mac, Stella (whose musical self left her body until next time), and Iris had managed to get out of the dark basement, Iris sneaked back into the room and Mac offered to take Stella home from a taxi. After what had happened earlier, Mac and Stella were uneasy around each other. They had never kissed on the lips before, just friendly kisses to the cheek.

"So you're planning to play tomorrow?" Mac asked as he and Stella exited the cab to Stella's apartment building. He was just trying to make a conversation after the incredibly long silence in the cab.

"Tomorrow's Thursday," Stella replied. "So, no. I don't play on Tuesdays and Thursdays."

They reached Stella's apartment door and that's where Mac said his farewell for tonight.

"You played beautiful tonight," Mac said when he and Stella were standing at the doorway.

"Thanks," Stella replied. "That wasn't actually my best, though. If I had more effort, as much as when I'm playing in front of a crowd or if I'm really into it, that's when I play my best."

"That wasn't your best? You played like Mozart out there."

"A lot of people call me that, even maybe a Chopin or a Horowitz once in a while. If I add my voice, they'll call me a Regina Spektor or a woman version of Ben Folds, which is really weird for me."

Mac just smiled and nodded, since he never heard of some of these musicians.

"So, uh, I'll see you tomorrow?" Stella added.

"Yeah."

When Mac turned around to leave, Stella held out her hand and placed it on Mac's shoulder, stopping him. Without word, Stella leaned in and her lips met his, a little more softly and less surprising than that time when they supposedly "kissed" in the dark basement.

After about five seconds, they broke apart just slightly, that their noses were touching.

"Why?" Mac asked quietly.

"I just wanted to know what it felt like just one more time," Stella replied in the same voice level as Mac's before leaning in to another kiss once again.

A/N: Whoa, this shit's long. It didn't get too sappy or OOC at the end, did it? Uh, anyways, thanks for the reviews in advance! ~14L