John arrived a bit earlier than usual for their next rehearsal. He had found some old sheet music in his flat and wanted to spend a few moments on his own with the piano. It was quite a beautiful instrument. It had a sleek finish, and a gorgeous white color. John had only ever played a piano such as this in his dreams. He double checked to make sure he didn't hear any footsteps coming down the hall, and then he sat down and began to play.
However, he wasn't as alone as he thought. Sherlock, who'd always been light on his feet, had managed to sneak up to the door and listen. He hadn't had a chance to listen to John play solo piano music since they first met. He was playing Chopin's Nocturne Number 8 in D-flat major. It was absolutely stunning. Sherlock stood rooted by the door, listening, his heart swelling with pride and something else he couldn't quite place.
"Such talent… wasted on a career as a doctor," he whispered to himself as the piece came to a close. He walked into the room, clapping slowly. John jolted in his seat, and Sherlock could see the blush on the back of his neck.
"Chopin? Impressive, maestro. Very impressive."
"I had to play it for a recital in high school; it's one of the best pieces I've ever played…" John said softly, turning around on the piano stool. "I'm surprised I was able to play it so decently."
"It was beyond decent, John. It sounded lovely."
"Thank you… shall we get started?"
"Yes, of course. But there's something I want us to do first, I'll be right back."
Sherlock closed the lid of the piano gently and placed his violin on top of it before running out of the room. Where on Earth was he going in such a hurry?
In a few moments he returned with an electric tea kettle, two mugs, and a bag full of different kinds of tea.
"What is going on?" John asked, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice.
"I have to get myself in the zone before I do a rehearsal, or I won't be able to focus," Sherlock said plainly, as though it was the most sensible thing in the world.
John gave him a confused stare. "We've had plenty of rehearsals, have you not been in the zone before?"
"I have been, but I figured since we have spent a healthy amount of time together, I can get myself focused the way I normally do. I guess it gets me super focused."
"So we have to drink tea… together?" John asked again, still confused.
"You're very cute when you're confused," Sherlock said softly, almost as though he didn't want John to hear him. He blushed furiously as Sherlock continued talking. "We're going to drink some tea and talk about things. Musical things. It gets us both in the rehearsal zone at the same time, and I feel like we are more connected this way throughout the rehearsal. Though, I must say, our connection thus far without this 'tea time' has been fairly deep already, so I'm hoping that this can only make things go even smoother than usual."
John couldn't help how his heart fluttered slightly at all of the compliments. "You're sure you aren't just in it for the bonding?" he teased.
Sherlock gave a soft smile. "Well, I must say, I am looking forward to getting to know you better, John. Our music has already told me so much about you, but, I want to hear your voice."
John's face turned beet red as Sherlock walked across the room to plug in the kettle and begin boiling the water. How could Sherlock unravel him so easily? Why did John… like it? What had they done that had left both of them so in awe of each other? They just… played music. Molly was surely pulling his leg earlier with all that music forms some sort of special bond between musicians. It was just sound waves. It didn't make sense that every rehearsal left John giddy with joy, and that his thoughts were usually plagued with the handsome violinist he'd been spending all of his time with as of late.
And while Sherlock appeared so smooth, inside his thoughts were spiraling. Why was it so easy for him to tease John? And… flirt with him? Sherlock was not a people person, this much was obvious. Molly Hooper was about the only person on this planet that Sherlock could say the company was enjoyable. He'd barely known John for a month and he'd already surpassed Molly by leaps and bounds. What was it about John that made Sherlock spiral out of control?
Several weeks passed of the same unaware flirting between John and Sherlock. They were both about at their wits end. Neither of them had any idea what was going on, and they weren't sure of exactly how they were supposed to push the situation forward.
In the end, it was Sherlock that pulled the first punch. He sent Molly a text.
Molly,
Before you take any of this the wrong way, I want you to know that you truly are the most talented pianist at this academy and I have no doubt that you will be one of the most prestigious pianists of all time.
I would like to ask him to be my accompanist from now until, well… until he would have to stop. He is a truly talented musician and I have never felt more connected to an individual as I have with him.
I am sorry that it has taken me so long to realize this. I hope your endeavors with the piano trio are going well. Perhaps afterwards you can venture into your solo career.
Take care, Molly Hooper. Though, I do hope to still see you from time to time.
You are one of the closest friends I have. Nothing will ever change that.
-S.H. 7:32PM
Sherlock received no response. He was sure Molly would be upset. They had been playing together for years. It couldn't feel great to be replaced by someone Sherlock barely knew, but… what if this was the last time he and John would ever be able to spend together?
Mike and John were working on an assignment when Molly rang. Mike picked up his phone and answered it.
"Woah, Molly, I can't understand you… why are you crying? What happened?"
John perked up. He had a feeling that this had something to do with Sherlock.
John could overhear Molly's sobs through Mike's phone. After a few minutes Mike shot John a strange look.
"Molls, I'm going to put you on speaker phone, okay? John is here with me. Let's talk this out."
Mike put the phone down on the table and put it on speaker.
"Hey, Molly? What's going on?" John asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.
"Sherlock texted me last night," Molly started, her voice quivering. "He said he wants… he wants to ask you to permanently replace me as his accompanist."
"What the hell?" John shouted, jumping up from his seat. "That bloody idiot… he knows I can't do that! Why would he replace you? All he ever says is you're the best in the academy. Why is he acting so bloody stupid…"
"What exactly did he say to you, Molly?" Mike asked, his voice tinged with anger. It was going to take a lot to hold him back the next time he met Sherlock face-to-face. Mike had always been very protective of Molly, especially when it came to Sherlock.
"He said that he has never felt such a close connection as he does with John… which, I mean, I get it. It's obvious what is happening between you two. But, I don't know… it just really hurt to know that our bond wasn't as strong as I thought it was.
"Oh, Molly, don't be ridiculous," John said, trying not to laugh. "Sherlock always speaks so highly of you. He loves you, in his own Sherlockian way."
He couldn't tell if it was a huff of sad amusement he heard on Molly's end or not.
"Plus… I'm training to be a doctor. I'm a doctor, not a pianist. I just play the piano in his free time. It's different from you, Molly. The piano is going to be your lively hood. You're in the Royal Academy for God's sake; not only that, you are the most talented pianist there! Let me talk to Sherlock. I assure you he is not going to let you go. Not ever."
John remembered what Sherlock had told him after their first performance together, and immediately tried to shake the thought.
The Royal Academy of Music would take you in a heartbeat.
He then found himself thinking that he didn't want to say no… he had fallen hard for the piano, and even harder for the tall violinist with bright blue eyes and curly brown locks of hair. Damn… what the hell was happening to him? Where had his passion for medicine gone? All he ever wanted to do was help people.
All it took was one gorgeous stranger to come into his life and completely uproot everything John had ever thought he understood.
Then John started to realize that maybe it wasn't all about how he didn't want to let go of playing the piano. Sure, it had all been like a dream and John dreaded the day he'd have to leave behind that gorgeous piano he'd been playing for the past several months. But, John? A musician? Preposterous. He could hardly imagine it. It had been Sherlock that had made this whole experience so exhilarating. From their pre-rehearsal tea to the short breaks they took laying on the floor and talking about all sorts of things, John loved it all.
He didn't want to lose Sherlock… What if Sherlock never talked to him again if John declined wanting to be his partner?
He didn't want to lose Sherlock. He couldn't. He was one of the greatest people John had ever met, he was sure of it… he wasn't ready to give all of that up.
In the middle of his frantic thoughts, John received a text.
Meet me at the Speedy's by my flat on Baker St. Must ask you something important. –SH 11:48AM
"He just texted me," John said, and Mike and Molly went quiet. "I'll go talk to him now. I'll get this all figured out, Molly."
"John."
John stopped in his tracks. "Yeah?"
"I want you to do what is going to make you happy," Molly said softly, almost hesitantly. "I know that you and Sherlock have gotten close over the past few months and… don't throw away your happiness just for me, okay? I know that's like, your whole mode of operation, but for once… do what is going to make you happy. You mean more to me than being his accompanist."
John felt his heart swell.
"I love you, Molly; you're one of the greatest friends I've ever had. I'll keep you posted."
"I love you too, John. Good luck with whatever you decide to do."
With that, Molly ended the call and John was out the door.
