Jane slowly took a seat before the looming baby grand in the corner of the empty ballroom.
Having slipped from the banquet down the hall, she needed a moment to herself. The large open windows allowed the moonlight to bathe the room in a deep blue haze.
She shifted on the cushion a few times, her eyes peaking at the pedals as she placed her hands next to her.
She hadn't sat at a piano in years.
Taking a breath, she brought her fingers to the ivory. She closed her eyes as the smooth, cool keys tickled the tips of her fingers. A wave of excitement washed over her body. She tried spreading her fingers a little wider.
One note resonated in the dark room. Goosebumps traversed her skin.
A few more followed.
Jane let out a shaky breath, pressing her fingers for perform a chord. It too resonated. Fumbling for a moment, ghosting over keys, she practiced the beginning to a simple piece she had since learned long ago.
Pressing with more confidence, the first chord was full and prominent through the ballroom. Then slowly, more chords followed, the tempo slowed well past half its counts— ensuring she wouldn't miss a note. The tune flowed like a stream, gradually picking up as she neared a crescendo.
The twang of an F sharp pierced the room. Jane winced but continued. Beautiful tones sounded then suddenly another missed chord. Anxiety flushed her body. She tried again, yet made the same mistake.
"Come on," she growled quietly to her hands. Starting the bridge once again, she flowed only to destroy the beauty at the chord her fingers eluded.
She stopped, fighting back tears and anger. Lifting her head, her eyes caught sight of the pale reflection in the window. Hazel eyes sparkled despite the dim light. Soft blonde tresses of curls, pinned in an elaborate fashion, shimmered in the moonlight.
Jane froze. She never particularly cared for an audience.
"Please don't stop." Maura asked softly. She approached Jane, her heels dangling in her hands.
"I ca-" Jane cleared her throat "I can't hit the chord." She watched the reflection of the Medical Examiner saunter towards the piano.
"Perhaps," Maura came to stand behind Jane. Bending over her, Maura reached for Jane's left hand. "Or you could bring it up a 4th." Maura replaced Jane's fingers and pressed. The new chord harmonized but was not as full as the previous.
"Please continue," Maura whispered in Jane's ear.
Closing her eyes, memorizing the moment, Jane began to play again. Maura came to join Jane on the bench.
While the piece was not intricate, Jane made up for in gusto and passion. Maura watched, fixated, as Jane continued to play. She watched the concentration dance along the brunette's face; the way her brow furrowed and her lips pursed. The song built, as did Maura, into a magnificent blossom of expression. And as the last chords resonated through the ballroom, Maura couldn't contain her awe.
Sheepishly, Jane turned to look at her counterpart. Their gaze locked, midnight swimming in hazel.
When had their breathing become so loud.
"Jane." It was breathless, quiet, and full of need.
Their lips met feverishly, hands coming to wind in hair.
"Maura."