He started slightly, thinking he'd misjudged; but her fingers tightened on his shoulder, so he let the moment linger just a little, settling his hand against her face.
He understood that their emotions had been running very high tonight, but he also knew it would go no further than this. Her heart was elsewhere, and he knew he wasn't ready to make the sacrifices that being a permanent part of her life would entail. To do less than that would be to hurt her deeply, and he wasn't about to dim the light he'd seen this evening.
After a moment, she drew away, her cheeks red and her head down. "Myles, I'm so sorry, I don't know what—"
He tipped her chin up. "It's all right, Sue. It's been an intensely emotional evening for both of us. And I won't say that, after tonight, the thought hadn't crossed my mind. But you and I both know that someone else has your heart right now. I won't interfere with that."
"I-I—" She broke off her protest as he raised a brow at her pointedly, and she sighed. "You're right. But… I don't know if he'd ever do what you've done tonight."
"The symphony? Unlikely. Now, the Billy Joel concert on tour…" he smiled as she laughed softly, then moved to take her hand. "Have you ever expressed to him how much it would mean to you if he were to experience your world first-hand?"
Sue shook her head. "It's not something you just bring up. And it's… it's not like there could be anything between us right now anyway…"
"I think there possibly could be, if you want it badly enough," he replied. "Just as you've done with everything else in your life, you will seek out a way."
She laughed softly, seeing his words. "Perhaps."
"Now," he smiled, lifting her hand and laying it on the keyboard, "if I recall correctly from the Christmas party you had here awhile back, it was said that you can play the piano as well. Is that true?"
Sue nodded. "Yes, but…"
"Would you play something for me? Please. I promise not to stare in utter fascination."
She'd started to protest again, but his quip made her laugh. "I know you wouldn't do that. Just promise me you won't wince too badly if I screw up."
"May I ask how you know if you've played something incorrectly?" He saw her brows furrow at the last word and signed WRONG to clarify.
"When I learn a song, I read the notes first, then use the metronome to see the tempo. That way, I know exactly where my fingers should be at any given point. If I mess up, my fingers won't be in the right place to move to the next chord, and it will throw me off." She looked up at him. "Does that make sense?"
"Perfectly. I learn the same way, only I hear the metronome while I'm playing. But it throws my tempo off to hit a wrong note, too. I just hear it as well." He smiled. "So, now that you've apologized in advance, what will you play for me?"
"I think—" She broke off and eyed him suspiciously for a moment. "That was very smooth. I was still formulating another protest."
"Interrogation techniques come in handy for more than breaking down criminals," he replied innocently. "And I want you to show me the sign for 'formulate.'"
She laughed. "Just borrowing one of your 'ten-dollar words.' There isn't an actual sign for it; I'd probably use THINK-PLAN." She showed him, and he copied it. Then she raised a brow at him. "That reminds me. When did you suddenly increase your ASL past THANK YOU and INSPIRE?"
"You forgot WELCOME and BEAUTIFUL." She narrowed her eyes at him, and he grinned. "Tell you what. The information will cost you exactly one song on the piano."
"All right, all right. I should know better than to argue; I've been in interviews with you. You're relentless." She laughed as he drew back and placed a hand on his chest as if to say "moi?" "Do you like Chopin's Winter Wind?"
His brows shot up. "Vent d'Hiver? Yes, very much." He smiled when she gave him a confused look. "I learned the French version of the title first."
"First Italian, now French. I'm so glad the Russian wasn't an issue." She smiled as he started to apologize. "I'm teasing you. It's just nearly impossible for me to lip-read."
He looked properly contrite. "Yes, I like Winter Wind. It's one of my favorites of his études."
"Well, then, get out of my way, because this takes a little elbow room." She saw him laugh and get up, then move to the right side of the piano, still facing her so they could talk afterward.
She began to play, and Myles was amazed, watching her. One would never know that she could not hear what she was playing; she attacked the keyboard with all the vigor of an accomplished pianist, and after a moment he stopped watching her and just listened, closing his eyes and getting lost in the music.
After she hit the last chord, she looked up at him. "I think I got it right. It felt right; how did it sound?"
It took him a minute; he seemed to be collecting his thoughts. When he finally looked at her, he signed WOW. Then, as her brows climbed again, he continued with BEAUTIFUL, PERFECT.
"Thank you. I like that one; it gives me a workout. Good for days when I can't make it to the gym."
He laughed and sat down next to her again. "It was absolutely amazing. You play superbly."
"What was that last word?" He spelled it out for her, and her cheeks colored again. "Oh. Thank you. There are just too many consonants in that word to read it easily."
Myles tilted his head to one side, saying the word softly to see for himself. "Yes, I can see that now. My apologies." He ducked slightly and chuckled as she aimed a soft swat at his shoulder. "Hey, I'm still learning. You can't expect me to ignore my upbringing every time I make a mistake."
"No, I guess I can't," she laughed in return. "But I think we're both getting very tired, and I don't want to read in tomorrow's paper that you fell asleep at the wheel and ended up part of the cityscape."
"True." He offered her a hand up, then went to retrieve his jacket.
"Wait a minute," she said suddenly. "You never answered my question."
His expression was innocent as he turned, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "What question was that?" She wrinkled her nose at him, and he laughed. "Oh, yes. My new ASL vocabulary."
"Well?"
He shrugged into his jacket as he explained. "I hate to admit the motive, but I was getting a little paranoid, watching you and Lucy sign all the time. Knowing her, and her grudges, I thought it might be prudent to gain a bit of 'defensive strategy.' So I arranged with a professor at Gallaudet for a little 'independent study,' that would fit with my very irregular schedule."
"You took a class? You?" Her eyes were wide.
He nodded. "I'm still very much a novice, since the only practice I really got until tonight was in the class, but my sign vocabulary is up to 40 or so." He looked a little hesitant again. "Now that you know, it would be nice to get in more practice, if you wouldn't mind?"
"Of course!" Then her smile faded slightly. "But… if we weren't going to let the rest of the team find out about this evening…"
"I thought about that," he replied. "But now I find that the idea of going back to where we were just doesn't appeal. I can't do it, Sue— it would negate everything I've learned tonight, all I've experienced, and that would be utterly unfair to you, and the world you've shown me."
She just stared at him for a minute, trying again to process that it was Myles standing here saying this. Then she shook her head in amazement. "When you finally see something you want, you don't mess around, do you?"
"I guess we're quite similar in that respect, aren't we, Thomas?" He smiled as they walked through the kitchen. When they reached the entryway, he turned to face her, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. "You know, you could suggest to the team that everyone take a class. Then I could practice all I needed to, and no one would be the wiser. That would give you a subtle way to draw Jack into your world as well."
Sue laughed. "I wonder who would grouse more about it— you, playacting, or Jack, for real."
Her friend's blue eyes went solemn. "I don't think he'd complain, if you explained, to all of us, why it means so much to you." Then he smiled. "And if by some chance he does… well, you've always got a date for the symphony at least."
"Yes, I do. And I may take you up on that, anyway."
"I have season tickets, and usually end up giving my extra to one of my neighbors. Whenever you would like to go, you just let me know."
They chatted for a bit longer, about the symphony schedule, the fraud case they'd been assigned that morning, a little of everything. Finally, he glanced at his watch again and laughed. "Well, we've been standing here for the past 20 minutes. I think I've just been involved in my first real Deaf goodbye."
Sue smiled. "I warned you they could go on for days." She reached up and gave him a big hug. "Thank you again for a wonderful evening."
He returned it fully, then drew back enough to face her. He smoothed back a strand of hair from her face, then tipped her chin up slightly. "May I?"
She nodded, smiling, and leaned toward him, but he stopped her. "No, you stay right there. If I miss again, I may change my mind about being noble." He pressed a lingering kiss on her cheek. "You know, there's a Sioux Indian prayer that I've thought a great deal about tonight; I think it applies here."
She raised a brow, and he quoted softly. 'O Great Spirit, keep me from ever judging a man until I have walked a mile in his moccasins." She smiled and hugged him again. "Thank you, Sue," he said when she could read him once more. "For showing me what I've missed. Good night."
"Good night, Myles." She squeezed his shoulder before he stepped through the door. Then she wandered back to the window and watched as he unlocked his car.
He looked up for a moment and saw her there; he smiled and signed GOOD NIGHT, GOOD FRIEND.
She replied in kind, and he drove off. Then she turned to where Levi was looking up at her. "Come on, buddy, let's get some sleep. We still have to work in the morning."