New Years and BBC's Sherlock Holmes inspire me to write Royai fanfiction, go figure.

Roy was having a pretty good night.

The play wasn't too boring.

The girl on his arm was pretty hot, boobs and hips. The slit all the way to the thigh of the long black dress she wore was a plus. Spectacular.

The rain that started up on what was supposed to be their romantic walk home – her home, of course – that put a little delay on his plans. Now they were stuck in this little café bar with a bunch of bohemians. Pipes crossed and ran the length of the ceiling, and the walls were a warm orange that had accumulated dust, plastered with various posters from different plays each of which were starting to fade, a testament to its proximity to the theatre district. Stickers, also faded, ran the length of the bar. Patrons in various forms of unusual attire; one man in drag, one with various facial piercings and one with a full head of what may have been multi-coloured dreadlocks. The lighting was dim and poky. Truthfully this was just the type of place he'd rather avoid, especially on a date. Not much he could do about that right now; the early autumn chill that made his date cling to him had conjured a rainstorm short of absolute hail, so they'd had to take cover.

Snagging a booth and trying not to wince at the crumbs and dust on it – or even think about what he was sitting on – Roy tried to settle in and make the most of a bad situation. Searching the table top he realised there were no menus; "I guess we have to order things at the bar."

Savannah gave him a small smile, surreptitiously preening. She was certain the hail had done something to her hair. "I'll come with you sweetie. I need to find somewhere to powder my cheeks."

But Roy interjected with a "Why sweetheart. If you make yourself any more beautiful I'll be so utterly undeserving in comparison."

She giggled at him, batting her eyes. "Go on then, I'll be waiting right here. I just want a sparkling water. We'll be having dessert at my place remember?"

"At your service my lady." He crooned, sauntering over to the bar feeling pleased with himself. "Yo!" He waved down what looked to be a female bartender only to have her come closer and bring ambiguity into his assumption. A little flattery couldn't hurt. "Excuse me beautiful but could you—"

He was interrupted by the dimming of the lights. Turning towards the stage in the far back, he saw a woman in a long silk robe. Her long blonde fringe hung over half her face and curled slightly at the end, reminding Roy uncomfortably of a certain Northern general but the rest of it was in short ringlets around her chin.

The spotlight snapped on the instant she dropped the robe – along with Roy's jaw – to the floor. She was fully covered, but the material spanning from her throat to the underside of her breasts was sheer gauze, giving a tantalising glimpse of more than ample unfettered curves. Roy was almost mad at the emerald lace that spanned the edges – preventing anyone from seeing more. Underneath that was a corset, seeming to shimmer between blue and green in the lights. Her skirt was a darker green, obviously melded with the corset, which ended at her knees. The silk was hitched up to form a slit to show the thigh, if it weren't for the black lace shorts.

Roy's mouth may have been watering at this point, he wasn't sure.

Then she opened her mouth, closed her eyes, and sang.

I'm not yours, and you're not mine
But we can sit and pass the time
No fighting wars, no ringing chimes
We're just feeling fine
This is where we're supposed to be
Sitting by a broken tree
No tragedy, no poetry
Just staring at the sky

I could wait a thousand hours
Stay the same in sun showers
Pick apart a hundred flowers
Just to be quiet

Tell me when you feel ready
I'm the one, there's not too many
Hold my hand to keep me steady
Just to be quiet
With you

I like it here
Beside you dear
You're even more than you appear
And in the clouds my head is clear
Every time you say hello

So here's my heart and here's my mouth
And I can't help if things come out
Cause there are words I want to shout
But maybe I'll stay low

As the song ended- completely acapella, Roy had always admired those performances…well… - he came to the realisation that his mouth was still wide open. The woman opened her eyes – to look straight at him. She seemed to freeze, almost imperceptibly before about-facing and heading offstage through a door. Something in the movement reminded Roy of Hawkeye. Nah, of course not! Stupid to think about.

Facing the bar again, he noted the ambiguous-looking bartender was still there. Plastering his most charming smile on his face he leant forward, "Sorry about that beautiful, I got a bit distracted. Could you possibly get me some menus please? And tell me a little bit about that lovely siren onstage just now?"

Jamie raised an eyebrow at him then moved to eye his date pointedly. "We don't have menus here. And you're gonna get nowhere with Songbird."

Changing tack he let his eyebrows rise in guileless surprise, "Really?"

"Yup." The bartender continued self-righteously. "Don't worry, we'll be bringing you what you need in a second."

"But we haven't ordered anything." Now he was getting a bit indignant. "And who says I'm not an adoring fan."

"We bring you what you need here." Was repeated, firmly, as the man/woman(?) continued to polish a glass. Giving him a derisive glance up and down, taking in his date suit and snorting. "Songbird comes and goes. It all depends on her state of mind."

Now Roy was intrigued. "How so?"

Glancing up at him her facial features softened slightly. "It's an escape you see. She comes when her world is in turmoil. A place where she recognises nothing - separate from her life. She comes to get away from the world, so she doesn't fall to pieces."

WitW: Ok in response to my earlier AN yes I did start writing again just after Sherlock's first episode however I forgot to finish before being confronted with Reichenbach….

*Author trails off, tears and a look of complete and utter trauma appearing on her face*

I DON'T WANNA LIVE ON THIS PLANET DUWAAAHAAAA—

SOMEONE—

PLEAAAAASE—

GET ME MY SHOCK BLANKET—

Also after that, coursework, revision, exams, my computer crashing and me haunting the Sherlock side of FF . net happened. Not necessarily in that order. Also, my muse is being a floozy bitch! *Indignant!Writer*

Side note: It hailed yesterday! A sign that I must update!

If you wanna know the song is called Quiet by Lights. Link: http:/www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=m0Ohl3MMq0o

The sort-of inspiration for Riza's skirt: http: / www . divacorsets . com / collections/ /amberlin-mini-bow-corset-dress/0/174