A/N: It was meant to be a one-shot. Clearly it'll be a little longer than just that... :)

The singer and her composer

Amelia stayed at the Mozarts' that night. And the night after.

In fact, Wolfgang sent a letter to her sister, asking for Amelia to move in permanently. She had said yes, after being informed Wolfgang had a wife and lived with her full time.

Amelia felt broken.

Utterly and completely broken.

She hadn't told Wolfgang what had transpired between her and Salieri that night – she didn't need to really – and had spent most of her night crying.

Crying for what, she didn't remember. I mean, she had been kissed by a man she now knew she was in love with. She shouldn't have cried.

Except she knew that kiss was the sole one she'd receive from him.

Salieri wasn't a man to ever marry, Wolfgang had said so himself.

The following plays of Romeo and Juliet were full of tears on Amelia's account, but seeing as her character needed to be teary, none ever asked why she had turned into a living fountain.

A week after the night of the première, Wolfgang received a note from a page.

He read it aloud to Amelia, and he seemed displeased. Extremely displeased.

"Wolfgang, I would appreciate if you came visit me tonight in my chambers at court. Alone. There's a matter that needs to be talked about, between two composers. Please come. Antonio."

He crumpled the paper and threw it into the fireplace. "What the hell is he thinking? Never once since I know him have I gone to his place. He's always come here. To teach the boys, to talk, to dine with us. There is something really off with him, and I'll know what."

Wolfgang strode across the room and slammed the door open, then turned back to Amelia, who hadn't moved.

"Are you coming or not?"

She stood up, then her brow furrowed. "But, he said to come alone."

"I'll be alone. You'll wait outside. Constanze is at her mother's, and there's no way on earth I'm leaving you alone with the boys."

She smiled faintly. "Thanks. I'll grab my cloak, then."

But internally, her heart beat painfully hard. She'd go near Salieri for the first time since he had kissed her. And ran away from her.

She really needed to get a grip.

The journey from the Mozarts' mansion to the Emperor's palace was a little longer than the one to the theatre, and by the time they arrived, it was really late.

A page received them at the door.

Mozart stomped. "I'm here to see Maestro Salieri."

The page bowed. "And the young lady, sir?"

"She'll wait at the door."

He bowed again and then gestured them forward.

Amelia would have thought that court would have been empty at this hour, but far from it. Each and every courtier was out and about, some with a bottle or glass in hand, others shamelessly kissing or courting in public.

Amelia blushed and cast her eyes down, following her friend and their guide.

Wolfgang seemed unimpressed by all that. Which wasn't surprising. He had probably done it all in his own time.

Salieri lived far from the heart of the palace, in the artists' aisle. Amelia heard that Maestro Stefani was living not far, and as she liked the man to no end, she hoped he'd come out and say hello.

Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest with every pace she took closer to Salieri's chambers.

Then, at last, the page stopped.

He turned to Amelia. "Miss, if you'd please wait here." Then he opened the door, and Wolfgang followed after throwing her a kind smile.

Of the quarters, she saw nothing, as the rooms were swallowed in the dark.

What she caught was the sound of a piano playing with a dexterity that left little imagination to who was playing it.

"And what is a pretty little thing like you doing in such a dark corner at night?"

Amelia's thoughts snapped off her current appreciation of the place, to see a courtier standing not far from her, a flirtatious smirk plastered on his lips.

He was not ugly, far from it, with a big blue eyes and his perfectly trimmed wig. He wore a golden attire and was faintly powdered.

She curtsied, though in other circumstances she wouldn't have addressed a stranger. "I'm waiting for my friend."

The man's eyes darted to the door in front of which she stood. "Oh. Are you one of those numerous women to be infatuated with Master Salieri?" He took a pace forward. "You don't seem like it."

Amelia blushed at that, both because it was a little true, and because he had no right to address her thus. "I'm waiting for Maestro Mozart. I live with him."

The man's eyes widened in admiration. "You are Juliet. I knew I had seen those eyes somewhere before." Then he bowed. "My name is Heinz Rosenthal. I've seen the play at the première."

She smiled faintly and curtsied again. "Nice meeting you Sir. Amelia Linski."

"Well, Miss Amelia, would you agree if I spent a little of my time with you?"

She furrowed her brow. "Have you not somewhere else to be?"

"Unfortunately, I have. But I'd rather stay here with a true artist."

To that he settled his back onto the wall next to her, and crossed his arms.

"So...how have you met the great Mozart?"

The Sir Rosenthal was an agreeable person, passed the shameless flirting.

Amelia and him kept talking about Wolfgang, his work, and how Paolo was insufferable for long moments.

And then Salieri's door slammed open, and the Maestro himself burst into the corridor, Wolfgang behind him.

His dark eyes settled on Amelia, then on the man accompanying her.

She snapped off her surprise and curtsied. "Master Salieri."

He didn't even spare her a glance. "Herr Rosenthal. What a surprise."

His deep voice was clearly annoyed by the courtier's presence.

Who stepped forward, a smirk back onto his lips. "Maestro. I kept this young lady company during your and Maestro Mozart's meeting."

Wolfgang stepped out of Salieri's shadow. "That was thoughtful of you." He walked to Amelia, took her arm, and pulled her to his and Salieri's side. "Good evening now, sir."

Rosenthal's smirk didn't faint.

He walked to Amelia and grasped her hand, kissing her knuckles. "I will come and visit you backstage sometime." He then winked at her and strode away.

Salieri's eyes followed him the entire time. And when he disappeared, his dark eyes met Amelia's blue.

Before she could even utter a word, he entered his rooms again and closed the door behind him.

Amelia gasped under his animosity. She hadn't deserved it. At all.

Wolfgang sighed and pulled her away. "Come, darling. It's late. And he's in no mood."

Later, much later, he'd finally tell her that Herr Rosenthal was one of Rosenberg's spies. And Rosenberg, to everyone's knowledge, hated Mozart. With his guts.

The following days passed quietly.

Until one evening, after the play, Amelia was paid a visit backstage.

Herr Rosenthal hadn't broken his promise, after all.

"Miss Juliet, you look splendid. And might I add that you've played the part even better than the first time."

Amelia blushed under the compliment, and her hairdresser exited the room to give the visitor and the singer a little time alone. "This is very nice of you to say, sir."

He chuckled. "You should consider stopping calling me sir, Miss Amelia. Call me Heinz. Please."

She felt the blush intensify. "Very well... Heinz."

He grinned, highlighting his perfect teeth. "Good. Now... Let's talk. What's between you and Salieri?"

Amelia's eyes widened. "Pardon?"

The grin didn't fade. "You heard me. When I met you, he clearly was extremely upset that I was spending time with you. Would he like you by any chance?"

She longed to say yes. She wanted to. But she couldn't. Because, to be honest, she had no idea whatsoever.

"I doubt he does, Heinz. Wolfgang and he are just a little wary of you. With reason."

"Ah. So they told you who I worked for." He grinned wider. "I hope you understand that's not why I approached you."

She shrugged. "I didn't know, really. For all I know, you could very well be here to try and break my heart so I can't perform anymore."

"And that would be clever." Her eyes snapped at his, but he was still grinning. "But I wouldn't do that. Because it would be cruel, and I have a feeling your heart has already been broken."

Amelia said nothing.

Which confirmed his words.

Then, Rosenthal stood up. "I will leave you now. I guess if Maestro Mozart sees me alone with you he'll see red. I will come again another time. Until then," he leaned down and kissed her knuckles again, "do not forget me."

Wolfgang appeared not minutes later.

He kissed Amelia on the cheek, a huge smile gracing his kind face. "Amelia, my darling, you have been magnificent tonight. And I have a big big news for you."

She stoop up and grinned. "And what would that be, my friend?"

He took her hands and made her twirl around the room. "We've been invited to dine at court tomorrow! With Joseph II! And his courtiers, of course, including that spy that has been hitting on you."

She sighed. "And Salieri."

Mozart echoed her sigh. "You two really need to speak of things. You've both been sulking in a corner since that night I left you alone. And you never even told me what had happened anyway."

Amelia freed her hands and turned around to grab her purse and cloak, hiding the tears that threatened her eyes. "Nothing. I told you already. Nothing happened."

So the following evening, Wolfgang put on his most sparkly vest above his usual baroque shirt and leather pants, while Amelia wore a dress that matched his colour. Between purple and pink.

Her hair had been pushed up by Constanze, and curled around the ears. She had put on some light make-up to highlight her eyes, and that was all.

She didn't know who she wanted to impress the most. The Emperor, Rosenberg, or Salieri.

Because, to be honest, she thought that Heinz would have been impressed whatever she wore.

The page that received them at the palace's doors brought them higher than ever into the maze of staircases and corridors, until they reached "The green room".

Which was of a light green similar to the one called "vert d'eau" in France.

The Emperor himself was clad in a regal blue, as was Rosenthal not far. Rosenberg was as always wearing his deep blood-red, and Salieri, his beloved black.

Seeing him again after the short encounter they had the last time they met was painful to Amelia. Especially so when he avoided looking at her.

After she was introduced to the Emperor, Amelia was sat on His Majesty's left, next to Rosenthal, and facing Wolfgang, who was neighboured with Antonio.

The diner went on, quietly, and Joseph II seemed to be really impressed with the fact that Amelia's voice came from her mother alone, since she had never taken any lessons.

It went on also with Heinz shameless flirting, as always, though this time Amelia noticed how his blue gaze searched for Salieri everytime she smiled or laughed at something he had said.

Wolfgang, on the other hand, was properly glaring at the man.

Which didn't go unnoticed.

"Tell me, Maestro, there is a rumour spreading here at court. A rumour concerning yourself and this adorable young lady."

Wolfgang's grey eyes settled onto the Emperor. "And what would that rumour be, Your Majesty?"

Joseph II grinned devilishly. "That she is your mistress."

Amelia gasped. Salieri stopped his talk with his other neighbour, Rosenberg. The whole table went silent.

Until Wolfgang burst into laughs. "Amelia, my mistress? That is properly hilarious, Your Majesty! Hilarious!" He kept choking for a long minute, until he retrieved his tongue. "No, Amelia is a very good friend, and I consider her the little sister I never had. That is why I'm over-protective of her, I suppose."

To that their host laughed too. "Well then! Herr Rosenthal here is a very good match, if you want my opinion."

Wolfgang gritted his teeth, though keeping a false smile on his face. "I do not doubt he is. But I know that Amelia's heart is already taken."

Amelia's eyes locked onto Wolfgang's. She wore a warning in that glance.

And didn't dare looking over at Salieri in fear of being discovered.

"Well then, Heinz, poor you, it seems that battle you're fighting is bound to be lost."

Rosenthal chuckled, undeterred. "We shall see, Your Grace."

The rest of the diner passed by, the subject of Amelia's love life all but forgotten.

Once everyone had eaten, the group moved to "The Green Salon" where some entertainers were dancing.

Heinz offered Amelia a dance, after which she settled back onto a couch and didn't move again.

Before her eyes, Salieri was talking, a smile gracing his lips, with a dangerously spidery woman.

Her blood heat rose at that scene, but she didn't say.

She didn't need to.

"Do you want to go home, darling?"

Her eyes cast up where Wolfgang was leaning over her, not taking any of her false smiles.

She shook her head. "Not yet. Go. Talk. Have fun. Do not let the love-struck girl deter you." She shot him a genuine smile, and he understood that his earlier words about what he felt for her had been well taken.

A little after midnight, though, Amelia felt faint. Really faint.

She needed to walk, to move away from the crowd. Sometimes she had that sort of moments.

So she got up, excused herself from the Emperor, and went to wander through the corridors.

Her feet brought her to the artists' aisle.

As she stopped right before Salieri's door, she could feel her heart twitch.

What was she to do? He was downstairs, having fun with a carnivorous woman, and his chambers were locked for sure anyway.

So she cursed herself when she put a hand on the doorknob, and it turned.

The living-room was empty.

Literally so.

No table, no chairs, no furniture.

Only a piano.

Black as everything Salieri seemed to own.

Amelia caressed the instrument, then sat at the stool.

The last partition he had been working on was called "Per Julia". A lump formed in her throat at the thought he might have found a muse after all, then her fingers found the ivory of the keyboard.

The first notes of "Ah! vous dirais-je Maman!" echoed into the empty room.

"What are you doing here?"

Amelia's hands froze onto the piano.

His deep voice wasn't coming from the door at all.

It was coming from right behind her.

So she stood up really fast, and whirled around.

In the faintly lit room, Salieri's face was looking dangerous. Lethal. Dark and without safe issue.

To Amelia, he only looked more handsome, if that was possible.

She blushed a little at her mistake. "I am sorry. I wondered where you lived, and thought you'd be downstairs."

"I was, then I saw you leave and worried."

Amelia's eyes met his. "You worried?"

Salieri seemed to realise what he had just said, and backed away. "Of course. You are one of Wolfgang's closest friends, he would be devastated to lose you."

She huffed a little. "Of course. For Wolfgang's sake."

"It doesn't change the fact that you shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you."

His eyes widened. So did hers. "What do you mean?"

Amelia's eyes downed onto her hands. "Nothing. I...don't remember what I had meant."

A long silence stretched, during which Amelia couldn't give herself the strength to look back at him again.

After a long pause, Salieri sighed, and she heard him walk away. "I will go back to the party, and tell Wolfgang you are here. Play the piano as much as you like. I don't mind."

Amelia's eyes finally zeroed back onto his. "Thank you...Antonio."

The name left her lips effortlessly, as in a prayer. Somehow, she wished he'd understand that situation was killing her.

He understood.

She thought.

For he stopped right at the door and turned around to look at her again.

This was it.

Her moment.

If she had to do something, it was now.

So Amelia walked up to the composer, carefully, slowly, and brought a hand to his bearded cheek.

"I have missed you, Maestro."

His eyes closed, and he sighed. "You shouldn't say that."

"And yet it is true."

And before he could say another word or even open his eyes, Amelia pushed herself onto her tiptoes and covered his lips with her own.

Salieri was stunned, she could tell by the way his body frowned the moment she kissed him.

But as he had done when he had kissed her, she didn't move from where she was, and kissed him as if her life depended on it. Showing him how much she cared. How much it killed her never to see him again. Him and his infuriatingly good looks.

And after a long moment of wait, Salieri's arms closed around Amelia's waist, and he kissed her back.

With a passion he didn't have the first time. With a passion she doubted he ever had before.

When a soft sound escaped Amelia's lips when he pulled her to him, Salieri's answer was to pull away and push his forehead to hers.

"Miss Linski, we really should head back downstairs."

She grinned, her eyes still closed. "I know."

Then her lips found his again, like a magnet.

Like the fingers of a pianist finding the right keys at the perfect time.