Heidi/Angela
Title: Making Music
Fandom: Heroes
Genre: femslash
Rating: R
Characters/pairings: Heidi Petrelli and family (Heidi/Angela)
Summary: Before everyone’s life starts to change, the Petrelli family has one last Christmas to spend when everything appears to be normal. Or does it? For the first time ever, Heidi finds out that Angela is very good at playing the piano. Confusing as it seems, this is the beginning of a strange new attraction…
Word count: 2 523
It is the night before Christmas, and the Petrelli family is gathered together. The Petrelli residence is luxuriously decorated for the holiday. The Christmas tree seems higher than usual this year, its garlands and candles and big shiny balls are lighting up the room where they all are sitting after dinner.
None of them seems to be aware of the fact that within a near future, their lives will have changed beyond recognition, at least not the younger Petrellis are aware of it. What Angela knows is not easy to tell, but if she does know, then she keeps it a secret. How could any of them guess? Arthur is still alive. Peter has not yet dreamed that he can fly; Nathan has not yet been flying. Heidi doesn’t know that she will end up in a wheelchair and that she’ll one day take her sons and leave her husband.
But something is about to change within her already; she just doesn’t know it yet.
For now, she feels quite content as she looks at her family; they’re certainly not perfect, but this seems to be one of those moments when she can pretend that they are. Angela’s usual stern sphinx face is relaxed. Monty and Simon are looking wide-eyed at their grandfather, sitting in a big armchair, as he’s telling them a story about Santa. Peter is reclining on the couch, his eyes are half closed and the upper buttons of his skirt are open. Nathan smiles at her; if his mind is elsewhere, then at least he doesn’t show it tonight.
Then, as Arthur has finished his story, Angela does something that surprises Heidi: she walks up to the piano, close to the armchair Heidi is sitting in, and lifts the lid that covers the piano keys.
Does Angela play the piano? Heidi thinks. How come I didn’t know that? Why haven’t I ever heard her play before?
Heidi tries to think back, but no; as far as she can remember, Angela hasn’t been playing the piano when she has been in the house. But none of the others seem to be surprised, and Heidi asks no questions. She has never even bothered to ask Nathan why they have an unused piano in their house; it has just appeared to be one of those things that ‘should’ be in a home such as theirs, for whatever reason. Empty, ridiculous bragging, she has assumed - until now.
Angela begins to play ‘The First Nowell’, and as surprised as Heidi is to see her doing it, it doesn’t surprise her at all that she does it very well. In fact, Angela plays with talent and ease - and what is more interesting; she plays with pleasure. As Angela is playing, her facial expression becomes softer; her face is sternly concentrated, but the shadow of a smile keeps coming closer from some secret place within her and makes her more beautiful than what Heidi has ever seen her before.
Her fingers are touching the white keys as if they were a body, Heidi thinks, and her fingers are caressing the black keys as if they were flowing locks of hair.
Flowing? She looks at Arthur and his haircut, short as the boys’. She feels her own hair tickle her neck, and she feels the beginning of a tingle in her body.
Oh, what music can do…, she muses vaguely.
And then Angela goes on to play ‘God rest ye merry gentlemen’ and Heidi can’t stop watching her. All of a sudden, her hands seem to be the most fascinating things in the whole word. How they dance over the instrument and create such beauty.
“Oh please, don’t stop”, Heidi begs as Angela lets her hands fall down in her lap. “Play some more, Angela! Play another carol.”
Angela looks at her and smiles.
“If I play, will you sing, Heidi?”
“I’m not sure that I can”, Heidi answers truthfully, because she can barely speak, so overwhelming was Angela’s sudden outburst of music.
But Peter stirs on the couch, looks all awake all of a sudden, and with his usual boyish smile, he says:
“Of course you can! Monty, Simon, what do you say - if my mom can play, then your mom must sing, right?”
The boys laugh approvingly, nod their heads eagerly; there’s almost nothing they enjoy more than being in collusion with their uncle.
“You do have a very good voice, Heidi”, Nathan smiles, and Peter says:
“Kids, come on, what do you want her to play?”
“’Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer’!” they shout.
“Okay”, Angela replies and turns around to face the piano again, “if you say so…”
Angela plays with a smile, Heidi smiles, and she joins the guys in the unexpected little Christmas chorus. Then they sing ‘White Christmas’ and ‘Jingle Bells’, and it feels just wonderful, Heidi thinks.
When Angela plays ‘Angels from the realms of glory’, her contralto voice blends with the male voices, and Heidi and the boys let their voices fly on the higher notes and rise all the way up to the top of the Christmas tree, and up above it and higher still.
Angela turns around gracefully and looks at them as content as if she had been the conductor of a cathedral choir.
“Wonderful”, she says. “Have you had enough now?”
“No, please, one more!”, her choir shouts; Angela humours them and plays ‘Silent Night’.
Heidi is looking at her hands as she is playing; as she is caressing the keys of the piano as if it was a lover’s body.
I’m repeating myself, she thinks, and tries to free herself from the unexpected admiration for her mother-in-law, but the music makes her heart expand inside her and fill her entire body with its rhythmic beating.
When Heidi has put the children to bed and assured them that Santa Claus will come as soon as they are asleep but not a moment sooner, she joins the others again.
“How about a nightcap?” Arthur suggests, and he serves whisky to himself and his sons. Heidi prefers red wine, and this night, so does Angela.
Heidi holds the glass in her hand and looks at its content; how the Christmas candles make it glow, as if there was a core of fire somewhere in the glass.
This wine, she thinks, has the colour of music.
She wants to ask Angela to play again, but she doesn’t; she’d rather not ask for it than to hear Angela say no.
*
Later, Heidi looks herself in the eyes in the mirror when she’s brushing her teeth in the bathroom, and she asks herself if she doesn’t think that she’s exaggerating just a little bit? Of course, Angela Petrelli is an accomplished, elegant and admirable woman in many ways, but does the fact that she plays the piano really make her that much more likeable?
Heidi can’t bear to look at herself anymore; she fears that the look in her eyes really doesn’t belong there; it is not a look that belongs with the thoughts of Angela and music. But the image can’t leave her thoughts; she can’t stop thinking about the dance of Angela’s hands over the instrument.
When she’s finally in bed and lights are off, Nathan seems to have been waiting for her a while. He kisses her and starts fondling her breasts.
Heidi doesn’t move.
“I’m very tired…”, she murmurs when he releases her mouth.
“But it is Christmas”, Nathan says and doesn’t let go of her completely; “after all it is a very special night”, he urges, and as his hand moves down her body he ads: “and you’re not too tired to be wet.”
“I know”, Heidi replies, but shuts her mouth around the thought: but it is not your doing.
As guilt provoking as that thought is, it is also exciting, and now that she’s had it, she can’t deny it. She doesn’t know what to do about it, except to surrender to the confusing mixture of her husband’s touch and her inner images of the piano playing woman - of the stern face that became softer with the power of music, of the always elegant hands that had been dancing with powerful grace over the piano. It makes her dizzy and she clasps her hands around the sheets instead of around Nathan, presses her lips hard together and turns her head away when she comes and her thoughts are exploding.
*
During the following holiday days, Heidi simply does not recognize herself.
Angela is the same, Nathan is the same, everything is the same as it always has been, and yet something has changed.
Just because Angela played the piano? It makes no sense to Heidi, but she can’t help herself, she keeps looking at Angela’s hands whenever she thinks that she can do it unnoticed. Those hands are beautiful. They can do beautiful things. They belong to a beautiful woman. Her commanding voice is beautiful and her dark eyes are mesmerizing. Why? Heidi isn’t sure; all she knows is that she can’t help herself.
One day when they are alone, she feels that she has to ask:
“Angela, I would like to learn to play the piano. Can you teach me?”
The older Mrs. Petrelli turns around to look at her and rises her eyebrows.
“But Heidi, what an idea. Where did that come from?”
“I don’t know, I just… Please?”
Angela looks at her as if she doesn’t know what to think, and finally she says:
“I don’t know; I have never tried to teach someone to play before.”
“Not even your sons?” Heidi answers her own question: “Of course; I have never heard Nathan play…”
“No”, Angela says and looks at the polished dark brown piano, “he doesn’t. I tried to teach Peter when he was a child, but he was never interested. And I don’t really play that much myself.”
“But you play beautifully”, Heidi says pleadingly, “and I would really appreciate it.”
“All right, then”, Angela says and walks over to the piano, “come here.”
*
Angela Petrelli isn’t exactly the most patient and gentle of teachers, but she is thorough and possesses a certain methodology. After a couple of lessons, Heidi has learned some of the basic skills of piano playing, although she finds it hard to concentrate when Angela is so close to her, and she knows that she doesn’t display any greater talent.
Angela acknowledges this.
“Well done”, she says, seated next to Heidi on the piano stool, “but tell me, Heidi, what’s this about? Something tells me that you’re not really that interested in becoming a pianist.”
Heidi is more or less convinced that Angela, with all her experience and intelligence, can see right through her, and she can’t see any way out except by telling the truth.
“That’s true, Angela. I’d much rather be the piano.”
And she, a married woman with two sons, blushes like a school girl with a teacher crush.
“I see”, Angela says calmly, but her tone is amused and not scornful as she gently touches Heidi’s face with her fingertips, and with her hand softly placed on Heidi’s shoulder, she goes on:
“This is very interesting; I’d like to hear some more about it. If I play you, Heidi, will you sing?”
“Yes”, Heidi says with the last bit of her breath.
Angela rises from the stool and moves a few steps away, as if she is upset or needs some space to be able to think clearly.
“Forgive me”, Heidi says, looking down, “I’m sorry; you must think that I’m so ridiculous…”
“I didn’t say that”, Angela interrupts, “and I don’t think that. And don’t think that I don’t find you attractive, Heidi… because I do. I’m just a little curious; where did this wave of affection on your part come from all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know; it’s not so much affection as…”
Heidi stops; she’s ready to bite her tongue off - but Angela laughs behind her, and Heidi turns around to face her; to let the older woman see the burning inexplicable hunger in her eyes.
“Ever since Christmas Eve”, she says, “when I heard you play for the first time, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you; about your hands, about your touch…”
Angela walks up to her again, slowly, and she takes her face between her hands.
“So you don’t feel very affectionate toward me, you just want to be played upon like a piano”, Angela smiles, “I like that.”
Heidi gets up on her feet, almost trembling, and now they are very close.
“I don’t care that you’re Nathan’s mother”, she says, “I don’t give a damn.”
“Neither do I...”
Angela pulls her closer, without effort, and kisses her; she allows Heidi to drink her lips as she was drinking that wine, that liquid fire, on Christmas Eve. And finally, she gets to feel Angela’s hands on her body as she has secretly wished for ever since that night.
“Normally”, Angela says huskily, “I would prefer to play a pretty young body in bed, but since this is a music lesson, we should stay where the piano is, right? Unless you prefer the bed?”
“Later”, says Heidi with a gasp, because she can’t think about going anywhere; all she can think about is that Angela’s slender finger are unbuttoning her blouse in search of her breasts, and her nipples covered with the lace of her bra desperately want to be found by those fingers.
Angela pushes her toward the wall and presses her up against it, and now she is unbuttoning her trousers. Angela’s movements are quick; she reaches her goal and pauses momentarily.
“Oh, look at you”, she whispers into Heidi’s ear, “and it’s all for me…”
Heidi hangs in the air without safety-net. Angela has never seen her this exposed and vulnerable before, but Heidi doesn’t care. The desire is raging through her body like never before.
“Yes”, she gasps, “oh, please, Angela..!”
If Angela doesn’t touch her now, she’ll surely die.
Angela’s fingers are a pianist’s fingers; strong, supple and agile. Heidi doesn’t care about where and when Angela has learned to play the piano, just as she doesn’t care about where and when she has learned to play a woman’s body without the slightest hesitation. She just knows that Angela’s touch is wonderful and brings her intense pleasure.
Heidi doesn’t know if this will be all it takes to satisfy her sudden appetite, but she doubts it; the quick and strong orgasm has only given rise to more needs.
She looks at Angela; she almost can’t recognize the woman who is Nathan’s… no, the woman is just Angela now; everything else is unimportant. And perhaps it’s true that they haven’t been very affectionate toward one another in the past, but they are making music now.
And Angela’s eyes tell her without words that it is now her turn to play.
This is a piece of music that can be played in many variations; maybe not forever, but they are only just getting started.