Disclaimer- Don't own Resident Evil.

You know, I was a little disappointed by the lack of cutscene during the part where Billy played the piano. I think it could have been a potentially sweet moment for the two. Same goes for the Zero Hour novel. No piano scene, what up with that!?

So here's this pointless little drabble I did.

x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

The room was dim and musky, much like the rest of the mansion. She surveyed walls and mirrors and bookcases, and, most obvious, a large piano pushed to one side.

The area seemed innocent enough, and she supposed that Chris would've dispatched any of the walking-dead before she'd arrived to find him hovering over the musical instrument.

She sighed and took a seat on the bench in front of the rows of dusty black and white keys, brushed them off and at the same time the pressure of her fingers caused the keys to release a jumbled array of notes that seemed piercing in the quiet.

Feeling completely useless, she laid her Beretta on the polished surface beside her and looked down at the black and white rectangles.

Straight out of one nightmare and into another... she thought vaguely as she let her index finger press down on a random note. The ringing note gave her a sense of deja vu for some reason, and she moved calmly, her fingers reaching just beneath the collar of her shirt.

She pulled out the shining dog tags that looked as though they'd seen better days. They were a little battered and she actually noticed a small blotch of dried blood obscuring the first name, so that the tags appeared to simply say "Coen".

Frowning, she used the hem of her shirt to remove the crusted substance, her brain randomly wondering whether that had ben his blood or hers, or perhaps the blood of one those monsters...

She shuddered and held the tags tight, almost wishing he were still with her to face this second nightmare...but then, she wouldn't wish something so ill on him. She took great satisfaction in the idea of him free and far away from this god forsaken place. He deserved as much.

She looked back down at the piano, the source of her deja vu in the first place, and smirked as she remembered the piano he had played in the Arklay facility...

x0x0x

The barrel of a shotgun poked through the door first, then the head of ex-Lt. Billy Coen was peering in cautiously as he pushed the door open fully, motioning with his hand for Rebecca to enter. The room seemed harmless enough, housing only a piano. He shut the dingy door behind them, the rattle of the nearly broken handle sounding far louder than it was to their ears.

They both took opposite sides of the room, searching for anything useful like ammo or keys or clues to the many puzzles that this nut house required them to solve to continue on their way to freedom. A long time of silence and the muffled steps of their feet on the carpet, and then Rebecca spoke.

"Hey, Billy, look at this." she said softly, staring intently at a portion of the wall. He joined her and looked the area up and down, frowning.

"What am I looking at?"

"You see how this part of the wall looks....different?" she inquired, running her fingers down what appeared to be a crack running from the ceiling to the floor. Another crack ran parallel to it just a few feet across.

Billy squinted at it.

"Looks like it could be moved..."

"But how...?" she mumbled so low that he was positive she was talking only to herself. He watched her briefly as she continued to inspect the wall and the areas around it. Looking away, his eyes scraped the room again and stopped on the piano that was sitting only a few steps away from the mysterious section of wall...

I wonder...

Frowning at the ridiculousness of it, he walked over to the bench and slid onto it smoothly, propping his shotgun against the edge next to him. It had been a long time since he'd seen or played a piano, but he had some experience with the device.

He just hoped a specific song didn't have to be played.

He flexed his fingers gently and began to play...

x0x

Rebecca was still examining the cracks when she heard the soft notes that reached her ears. Eyebrows raising, she turned and saw a most unusual sight. Billy, convict and supposed murderer of 23 people, was playing the piano with an utmost look of serenity on his features.

She didn't recognize the tune he was playing, but it was pleasant to her ears, not bad at all.

It was lovely, in fact. Even if it was accompanied by the sound of the dangling handcuff bumping against the edge.

Tilting her head curiously, she walked over and stopped a few inches away, watching his calloused fingers moving smoothly and expertly over the keys. She would never have expected such a rough looking man to be able to play the piano with such grace.

It was as though she were looking at an entirely different man, or else seeing a side of him that he had lost since he'd been taken to jail. Her brain was wondering just how someone like this could be capable of killing people...

What the hell? Just because someone can play the piano doesn't mean they aren't capable of murder...she berated herself as the music reached it's peak. The last note wavered and died and then...

Nothing.

He opened his formerly closed eyes and gave her a defeated shrug that clearly said "I tried."

She had just been about to ask him where he'd learned to play when there was a loud clicking sound. They both whipped their heads around and saw the wall sliding in horizontally, revealing a small hall that appeared to house rows of expensive looking wine.

They both stared at it for a moment, feeling a little dumbfounded as the door finally stopped it's movement with a dull thunk. Everything was silent again.

Rebecca moved forward with her Beretta raised and swiftly moved in front of the newly opened passage, expecting danger.

Nothing expect more rows of wine, and something set into the wall at the back...

"I'll check it out." she said, and was surprised that it was accompanied by his deeper voice saying the exact thing. She raised an eyebrow at him and then moved around him pointedly, settling the matter. She heard him sigh and couldn't help but smirk a little.

x0x0x0

Now she was sitting at yet another piano and he and his piano-playing prowess were gone.

Gently dropping the tags back underneath her shirt, she felt a pang of guilt and sadness wash over her as she realized she had forgotten to ask him where he had learned to play. Now here chances of ever knowing were slim to none.

She tried to push him out of her mind, but as she positioned her fingers over the piano and bit her lip, she found herself trying to remember the way his fingers had moved over the keys, thus thinking of him again.

It's not like this is the key to some other puzzle. I'm just doing this to be doing something, she reasoned with herself as she let her hands do all the work.

x0x0x0x0x0x

Wow, that was pointless. Oh well, please RxR if you wouldn't mind.