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Gordon tiptoed down the stairs, treading softly and silently. His ears straining to make sense of the muffled noises he could just hear. He paused on the landing, it was definitely coming from downstairs. He shuffled, socks sliding on the hardwood until he could curl his toes over the edge of the top step of the staircase. Bracing his arms across the handrails, so his shoulders took more of the weight than his toes, he slowly inched down the stairs, trying to avoid making any tread squeak.
Finally at the bottom, his ears could make a little more sense of the sounds drifting through night time gloom. It was familiar, but he still couldn’t pinpoint it precisely. Further investigation was required. Hitching his fluffy socks up again to better aid the stealthy slipping, Gordon edged down the hallway, keeping close to the skirting boards, partially for balance, and partly to keep safely away from the traitorous floorboards which had caught him out in the past. He had a working theory that Scott might actually maintain the squeaky sections of the floor specifically to mess with him personally. That certainly deserved more investigation too, but not right now, for now he was nearly upon the source of the mystery noise.
Pausing at the end of the wall, and twisting his torso he was just able to make out the cause. Well the perpetrator wasn’t much of a surprise, Virgil sat hunched in concentration over the piano keys, but rather than the rising ringing tones of the baby grand, everything was strangely muffled. Gordon was perplexed, so he edged further into the room, one ninja-like step at a time.
Oooh, now he knew this one, something - something - Christmas time. Weird choice in October, but who was he to judge really.
Virgil got to the end of the piece, and briskly flipped the page over, revealing the next page of sheet music. There was only a moment's pause before he launched into the next piece, which revealed itself to be a rather stilted rendition of yet another familiar Christmas classic.
Gordon came to the realisation that he was never going to get to the bottom of this on his own. Therefore he packed away all pretence of stealth and strode the last few steps to the piano stool and plonked himself down next to his brother.
Virgil for his part, nearly jumped through the ceiling, and that was even taking into account how high the roofline was in that part of their home.
“WHat the Hell! Ff-s-sakes Gordon, you scared me.” he held one hand to his chest and had to take a few deep breaths before he was able to level out his breathing to a more respectable level.
“Whatcha doin’?” Gordon asked, choosing to ignore the histrionics he had caused.
“What does it look like?!” Virgil hissed out, clearly trying to resist the urge to raise his voice when the rest of the household were asleep.
“Well obviously you’re playing the piano. But why now? And why does it sound weird? And why Christmas songs?”
“That's a lot of ‘whys’ for this time of night.” Virgil rubbed a weary hand over his face.
“Well paraphrase for me. I wanna know why you’re dragging your clearly beat self through songs focusing on snow and Santa past midnight in October in the tropics. Come on Virg, you’ve gotta admit it’s a bit off. Can’t you sleep? Is it nightmares? Stomach troubles - did you eat the leftovers?”
“Stop Gordon, enough with the questions! I’ll tell you! It’s nothing that sinister. I’m just practising. Ok?”
“But why does it sound weird? Did someone damage the piano? Do I need to set forth on a campaign of retribution? Just tell me who Big man, I’ll learn ‘em! You don’t mess with Ethel and get away with it!” Gordon went to stand, hands already curled into fists.
He was stalled by a firm hand on his forearm, “Oh calm down Gordon.” Virgil sighed. “You named the piano?” he thought for a moment, “you named the piano Ethel?”
“Obviously, she looks like an ‘Ethel’.” Gordon maintained a very serious expression, causing Virgil to let out another small sigh.
“Ok, whatever. But in answer to your question, the reason the piano sounds - as you put it ‘all weird’ is because I am using the practice pedal. It just muffles the sound a bit, so I won’t bother everyone”
“Oh!” Gordon peered down between their feet and watched as Virgil demonstrated pushing the middle pedal down and releasing it again, lightly tapping one key to show the difference it made to the volume. “That is sooo cool, I never knew it did that.”
“Well let's be honest, you’ve never been that interested in making things quieter have you.”
Gordon opened his mouth to object, but then remembered his long forgotten drum kit and shut his mouth again. Virgil gave a small triumphant smile, fully aware of the thought process Gordon had just gone through.
Never one to be put off, Gordon mentally brushed aside that small defeat and ploughed his energies back into his interrogation.
“Ok, that answers one why. But you’re not getting off the others. Why now?”
“Well you try finding a time when this place is quiet.”
“That's a fair point, but usually you just chase us out if we’re being too loud.” Gordon frowned, something still didn't add up.
“Ok, Fine.” Virgil sighed again, his shoulders drooping slightly. “You wanna know?” Gordon nodded, afraid of interrupting and Virgil clamming up again. “I was trying to brush off the Christmas songs,” He shrugged, “because I knew I would be rusty. You’ve seen how excited Dad has been about the idea of his first Christmas back. Songs around the piano was always part of that. In fact, I think that's why I’m so out of practice. After Dad disappeared, it didn’t feel right to carry on with those traditions, they just felt empty without Dad there - singing slightly off tempo and stamping his foot.” he smiled softly. “And then time moved on and we got out of the habit.” He raised his hands back over the keys, and lazily picked out the melody of Frosty the Snowman. “So, yeah, I don’t want to let him down.”
“Oh Virg!” Gordon threw his arm over his brothers shoulders - or at least as far as he could get, “ you know Dad would never be disappointed. Anyway, let's face it, him and Alan are probably going to be crashed out after the sugar high before we even get to 10am!”
“I know, I do really” he leaned into Gordons one armed hug briefly, before straightening up again and flicking to the next page of music. “But I thought it might be a nice surprise,”
“You’ve got a point, what do you get a man who's got his own island? A big dollop of sentimentality might be just the ticket.” Gordon went to stand up, then froze. “Awh man, what am I gonna get him?” he slumped back onto the bench seat. “Hey Virgil, if I get my uke down do you think we could mangle a duet together, I think if we play our cards right we might be able to squeeze a few soppy happy tears out of the old man. Whadda you think?”
Virgil chuckled softly, “I don’t think there will be any forcing involved, he welled up picking out the photo for the Tracy Industries corporate Christmas card, it's going to be an emotional one for sure. But yeah, I’m sure we can cobble something suitably sappy together, we’ve got a couple of months to iron the details out.” He yawned, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Gordon who prodded him in the ribs with one extended finger.
“Yeah - loads of time, so how about we call it a night - hey?”
Virgil yawned again, so just mutely nodded whilst trying to cover his mouth with one hand. Gordon gave him a light punch on the arm to seal the deal and then proceeded to drag Virgil upright and hustle him towards their rooms, whistling a familiar tune under his breath as he went.
“Dangit Virgil,” he whispered as they got up to the residential level, “now it's stuck in my head and it’s only October! This is all your fault!”
Virgil grinned, unrepentant as he kicked his door shut behind him, leaving Gordon to grumble to himself all the way back to his own room.