AN: Hey everyone, welcome to chapter 4! The song for this chapter is "Nocturne No. 2 in E-flat Major" by Chopin. I hope you enjoy!

No. 4: Jake – Nocturne

"Want to get some air?" Jake asked Amy, his lips still tingling from their kiss.

"Yes, please" she said and they fought against the crowd to get to the backyard. Jake felt himself get hot underneath his collar, unsure if it was from the heat of too many bodies in one space, or if it was a reaction to the way Amy held onto his arm as they weaved in-and-out through the sea of people.

Jake's mind reeled. He had kissed her. He had kissed Amy. Sure, it was to avoid being beaten to death by that behemoth asshole, but he felt guilty. He hadn't really asked her permission and Jake Peralta prided himself to never be one of those guys. He knew he had to apologize, or at least make sure she was okay. She didn't seem mad at him, so that was a good sign.

Finally, they reached the backyard, which happened to be way less crowded than Jake expected to be. Amy spotted a couple of lawn chairs and sat down. She sank into a chair and put both hands on her face.

"Ugggggggh!" she groaned as her hands slid down her face, "men are the worst"

"Yeah, after that guy, I can't argue with that" Jake said.

"Like, who does that? Why would anyone think it's okay to follow me around after I told him 'no'?" she asked, getting herself wound up.

"I have no idea" Jake admitted.

"And what's up with him needing to see proof I have a boyfriend? So, what? The only time it's okay for a guy to back off is if I'm owned by another man? He's respectful of not taking some other man's 'woman', but he's not respectful of my 'no'? How dare he? This is why I hate parties!" Amy ranted, her face scrunching up in anger the more she talked.

"Yeah, I know. Total asshat"

"TOTAL asshat!" she agreed.

"Hey, Amy?" Jake asked.

"What?" she snapped, but Jake knew she was still riding on her rant wave so he didn't let it bother him.

"Just…wanted to say sorry about my, uh, methods. I just didn't know what else to do and I acted kind of impulsively" he said, looking at her, but then at his bottle when her gaze proved too much.

"Oh, don't even worry about it. I was seriously about to do it myself, but you beat me to it. That guy would have killed you if we didn't convince him"

"Wow, you're taking this whole kiss situation surprisingly well" Jake said, taken aback by the knowledge that she was about to kiss him.

"What? It's not like it was my first time or anything"

"Really?"

"Yes, Jake, really. Believe it or not, I had a boyfriend in high school" Amy said.

"Really? Was he the president of AV club?" Jake asked as a mischievous smile appeared on his face.

"No! He played trumpet in our school marching band" she said, as if this was something to be proud of.

"Oh my god, trumpet? That's literally the nerdiest of all instruments. Wait did he kiss you like your lips were a mouthpiece?" Jake asked as he made a circle with his fingers and put his lips in the center, trading off blowing air and making kissing noises.

"Ew no," she said, but then thought about it, "okay, maybe a little at first, but after we got the hang of it he was very good"

"Yeah, but not Peralta-good, right?" Jake joked and Amy made a sympathetic face at him.

"Aw, Jake…I'd definitely give you an A for effort" she said and Jake threw a bottle cap he had in his pocket at her.

"Oh, hardy har har" he said and she giggled.

"What about you? Who was your first kiss?" Amy asked.

"Jenny Gildenhorn when I was thirteen. We had two unbelievable weeks together before she dumped me for Eddie Fung at my Bar Mitzvah" Jake said, looking into the distance.

"Oh, God. That's brutal. You must have been really bad when you were thirteen" she said with a straight face and this time Jake threw a nearby acorn at her.

They talked outside for the rest of the party and Jake realized that Amy Santiago did, in fact, know how to have fun.

Jake's first semester flew by faster than he could have imagined. He was proud to have made it through his finals with adequate grades and he even had a meeting with a counselor to change his major. He had to have a meeting with the head of music before they'd let him in though, and he was more nervous for it than any of his finals.

"You want to be a music major?" Ray Holt, the head of music, asked him.

"Yup. That's why I'm here" Jake said as he stood opposite of the man sitting behind his desk.

"And what would you like to have your emphasis in?" Holt asked.

"Piano" Jake said with a triumphant smile.

"Piano? Mr. Peralta, I won't lie to you. Our piano track is quite rigorous and you're a semester behind. I'm afraid I'd have to assess your skills before I let you into the course"

"I'll play whatever you want. I'm good" Jake said, but he felt his confidence waning.

"Very well. Follow me" he said as he stood up and headed out his office. Jake followed him down a couple of staircases to the second floor practice rooms. Holt opened a door and let Jake in. Jake sat down at the piano as Holt picked a songbook off of a nearby shelf. He flipped through a couple of pages, looked up at Jake, and then down at the book.

"Hmm, yes. Let's go with that. Alright, Mr. Peralta, I'd like you to choose a song you're familiar with and then I'd like to see how well you handle sight-reads" Holt said and Jake was glad he brought a couple of songbooks with him.

"Any particular era you want to hear?" Jake asked.

"No, just play what shows you off best" he said as he sat down in a nearby chair. Jake looked through his books and decided on a jazz piece he'd been practicing for the past couple of weeks. He figured jazz would be a good contrast to whatever Holt would pick, since it'd probably be something classic. He put the book in front of him, took a deep breath, and began to play.

He tried to ignore the constant gaze he felt coming from Holt as he concentrated on the sheet music. He was nervous, but Jake thrived under pressure and when the song was over, he was convinced it was one of his best runs with it. Jake looked over at Holt, hoping for a sign of approval. He got none, as Holt seemed incapable of expressing emotion. Instead, Holt nodded.

"Yes, now, I'd like you to try Nocturne No. 2 in E-flat Major by Chopin. Are you very familiar with the piece?" Holt asked, giving Jake the book.

"It's pretty well known, but I've only every played it once or twice" Jake said, taking the sheet music and putting it on the music rack.

"Give it a try" Holt said and went back to his seat. Jake read the sheet music a couple times through, hoping he could play it without too many hiccups. He started on the piece and was able to get through most of it without having to pause and figure out where he was. It certainly wasn't one of his best performances, but he felt it was pretty solid for a sight-read.

When Jake was done he looked over at Holt who looked at him with a hand on his chin, deep in thought.

"Did I stun you into silence?" Jake asked, but Holt just stared on.

"Hmm," Holt murmured as he stood up and walked to the back of the piano, "Mr. Peralta, you are heavy-handed and your posture is abysmal"

"Oh" Jake said, a pit forming in his stomach.

"However, I'd be lying if I said you weren't gifted. I'm certain that if you work hard, you can catch up with your classmates in no time"

"Does this mean I'm in?"

"Yes, Mr. Peralta you're in. When signing up for your classes, make sure you take 'Jazz Harmonic Techniques One'. I'll be teaching it in the spring and I'd like to see you there" Holt said, heading out the door.

"Yes, sir!" Jake called after him with a huge grin on his face.

Jake made a point to practice every night until finals were over. Then, when he was back at his mom's house, he'd practice on his keyboard every day. His frequenting the Music Conservatory meant that he got a few more notes from his mysterious listener. A couple of them had said pretty mundane things like "I really liked that song", but he did get one that said "I think you're getting even better". The notes were always few-and-far-between, but he treasured them. He was tempted to stop mid-song and run to the door to see who was there, listening and encouraging him, but he never could bring himself to do it. There was a certain magic to having a muse floating around outside the door, never seen, but always felt. He didn't want to ruin that.

At least, not yet.

AN: Yay! We got to meet Holt! I actually really like writing him, but I don't get a chance to write him too often.

I'm not really a musically literate person so I hope all of the music mumbo-jumbo is accurate. I'm trying my best to research!

This chapter is a little shorter than the others, but as I was writing I realized I wanted to save what I was going to do for a little later. Ah, well. Chapter 5 will be up soon.

Thank you for all your support! It really means a lot and I treasure it deeply.