Wined and dined, oh it seemed just like a dream!

[backatthehotel]

WHO: Pink Floyd, Molly Hooper
WHERE: Pink's flat.
WHEN: The weekend
WARNINGS: None today, thanks.
SUMMARY: Dinner and some songs.
FORMAT: Quick!

[He's cleaned the flat (or, at least, shoved everything into closets and under the bed, and sprayed some air freshener all over), taken a shower, and bought a couple bottles of decent wine. He's ready to have Molly come over for dinner and some songs. And, you know. Whatever else.

Not that he's nervous or anything. That would be silly. What's there to be nervous about?]

Comments

[ecphrasis]

[Molly might have been just as nervous as he was. She'd dressed up, of course, but that didn't do much to help her shaking hands. But this wasn't even close to being their first date. She could do this, easily. It was just a nice dinner and some music. One-on-one. Things between them had been a little... difficult since Sherlock had voiced his opinion on Pink, but she had done a good job of ignoring it.

But his apology had done quite a bit towards forgiveness.

She arrived right on time, and knocked on the flat door, fidgeting with the bangles on her wrist, playing with the flower in her hair, trying not to seem too much like a jittery schoolgirl.]

[backatthehotel]

[And. Oh. There she was. Obviously, she was by earlier in the day, to drop off the groceries, but. This was the real thing.]

Hullo. You look nice.

[He bent down to kiss her on the cheek, and show her in. Bravado. Even if it's false.]

I tried to clean up, but I'm a bit out of practice.

[ecphrasis]

[She quickly reciprocates the kiss before he can stand all the way up--the heels help her catch him before he totally straightens. She makes her way inside, carefully taking off her shoes as she goes.]

It all looks great, really. Better than my flat is, most of the time.

[Because Sherlock liked to leave his experiments literally everywhere.]

[backatthehotel]

[Eep. Kissed back! That leaves him grinning, as he straightens fully.]

Well, you got -- what. Three, four people, all living there? Most of 'em blokes? I don't think you could get that clean. I've been in that kind of situation before.

[He shows her in, to a living room full of musical instruments and a music collection that lines nearly an entire wall, and a nook for art (mostly watercolours, st least that are unhidden right now) and a spotty white-and-black cat, watching her from the top of the couch.]

You want something to drink?

[ecphrasis]

[She laughs a bit.]

Yeah, it's a trial. But I manage well enough.

[Molly takes note of all the instruments and such as they pass them, eyes wide. She's never seen so many in one place. But she's distracted by his question.]

Um, sure. What do you have?

[backatthehotel]

[Sees the look on her face. Grins.]

You like 'em?

Wine, been, bunch of harder stuff. [A second, while he remembers what other people drink.]. Juice. And coke.

[ecphrasis]

Yeah. They're all so... well, they all look amazing.

[A small grin.]

Wine sounds great.

[backatthehotel]

You see something you really like, just say. That's what I'll play on tonight.

[So that could be bass, guitar, keyboard, electric drum set, trumpet, banjo, two-foot-wide gong...

He ducks into the kitchen to tab the wine and two glasses, letting her look.]

[ecphrasis]

Alright, I'll take a closer look while you get the wine.

[And she wanders around the room, slowly, inspecting each instrument. When he returns, she'll be standing by the keyboard.]

[backatthehotel]

[He returns! Popping the cork and pouring the glasses, stepping over to than one to her...]

We have a winner, then?

[ecphrasis]

[She takes the offered glass, and nods.]

I've always liked the sound of pianos and keyboards.

[backatthehotel]

I'm better on guitar. But they're still useful. The electrics, 'specially. Love the sounds you can make, if you know how.

[To the keyboard! Hooking it up to the sound system, then pulling up the chair and turning the little thing on. Running through the scales, to warm up.]

You every played?

[ecphrasis]

[Holding her wine tightly, Molly pulls up another chair and takes a seat as well, legs crossed at the ankles daintily just like mother always taught. Or she'd seen in movies.]

Only a bit. I took some lessons when I was a kid, but I didn't stick with it. I kind of wish I had.

[backatthehotel]

You could pick it up again. Ain't hard at all.

[Messes with the sound output, a little more. Then starts to play. Nothing that even deserves a name, just something bright and poppy.]

[ecphrasis]

Maybe you'll inspire me to.

[She falls silent to listen, clearly enjoying the music. She can sort of tell that he's making it up, but she doesn't mind. Molly might be humming along at some repeating parts.]

[backatthehotel]

You want to, just say. I'll help you along.

[It's solidifying into something, an actual tune. He rummages through his mental 'recordings,' and throws in some drums. The soft light (green, in this case) that comes with his ability thrums along the floor.]

[ecphrasis]

I think I'd like that.

[Molly's eyes slip halfway shut as she listens, rocking a bit in her chair, in time with the music.]

[backatthehotel]

[He doesn't answer, just nods, and keeps playing, throwing in more sounds and effects where appropriate, improvising her a little musical number. He's good at improv, though that the piano isn't his main instrument is pretty clear. At least, to him.]

[ecphrasis]

[Molly would never guess that he wasn't an expert pianist. As far as she's concerned, this is the most beautiful piece of improvised music she's ever heard.]

[backatthehotel]

[Oh, but she's just so sweet. <3

He keeps playing, experimenting with the tune, the themes, for a good six or eight minutes more. Until he feels like a change of pace. Then he brings it down, brings it to a slow trilling (bright lights trembling, fading) close. He looks to her with a smile, and bows.]

[ecphrasis]

[Molly is completely enchanted well before he finishes, but once the song ends she is basically starry-eyed. She actually stands to clap for him, not able to stop grinning.]

That was so beautiful!

[backatthehotel]

[See, this is why he plays. He grins wider, and dips his head.]

You like it, love, it's yours. Though I'll come up with a better name than "Molly's Song."

[ecphrasis]

[She blushes scarlet, and her eyes drop to the floor. But she musters her confidence and looks to him again, smiling like a fool.]

You mean it?

[backatthehotel]

'course. I don't do many sweet songs anymore. Not for ages. It's good to have another.

[ecphrasis]

[Her voice is quite, sincere:]

Thank you, Pink. That--that means a lot to me.