Prompt: Loved Ones
Words: 487

Haven't posted anything for a while because there hadn't been a prompt out for a few weeks. Sorry!

"Last night, tomorrow evening…" Elsa mumbled as she sorted through the music sheets. Placing them down upon the table, she fanned them out for Cole to have a look.

Picking one up, he narrowed his gaze at the page.

Elsa sashayed over to the counter of her apartment's kitchenette. Pouring herself a glass of red wine, she asked, "Weren't you going to dust that for fingerprints, detective?"

He smirked at her. "I'm not always so focused on my career."

She sat down upon the stool at the counter. A spent cigarette smoked in the ashtray at her elbow. She swirled the wine as if in contemplation. Tilting her head to the side, she regarded him with an appraising look. "Ah yes, forgive me for forgetting that you are a man unto yourself."

Cole took the snub with a roll of his eyes, and Elsa blew a kiss at him.

The words danced before his eyes as he turned the pages quickly, wondering at them as the tune played over in his mind. "Sentimental," he observed, setting the papers down.

"You caught me."

"When did you first want to be a singer?" Cole asked.

"Does it matter to you?" She replied coyly.

Leaning back on the couch, he turned the point back on her. "Your singing drew me to you."

Elsa lowered her façade. "That was back in Germany. Jazz was one of many things the Nazis tried to take from us, so I tried getting my hands on whatever copies I could," she sighed. "Lou and I used to sing to the stolen music, and forget about things for a while, but," she covered her face, "it really did nothing." Lowering her hand, she explained, "We thought that someone had overheard, and reported us. As it turned out, the reason our parents were murdered was political."

Phelps offered his condolences, but Elsa dismissed them. "Don't. We are having a good night right now." She took another sip. "What is it you are trying to find in those pages, Cole? I've not much of an opportunity to hide things."

"What am I to you?" He inquired, seizing his opportunity.

She set the glass aside. "You fascinate me. I hadn't imagined someone like you to come into the Blue Room. Whatever you are looking for, it's changing you."

"Didn't you look for another life here?" Cole asked.

"You know the result."

He stood at that, and exclaimed, "What do you want me to do, leave?"

"Of course not," she replied, her warning hanging between them.

Cole looked away from her with indecision.

Elsa's eyes rested back on the sheet music. "It's not the notes you understand, it's the words. I should have seen that earlier."

His chuckle drew her gaze back.

Smiling at a joke unseen to her, he replied, "Words are simple. People aren't."

She realized then why he insisted on taking his notepad everywhere with him.