[Sherlock sits in the audience. His hair is now a shade of auburn, and he wears a tailored coat that is brown. He thinks, sometimes, people think they might recognize him, but without his trademark coat and that stupid hat, he's invisible. He has to be, he thinks. For a time. He doesn't know when he'll be able to go back, but when he does, he's going to make quite the splash.
Just like the Woman is, now. The audience is enraptured by her, and he watches their reactions as often as he watches her sing. She's amazing, of course, but the way she draws them in, seduces them, is utterly enthralling. He stays silent throughout her performance, not bothering to applaud during the appropriate places. She has more than enough fans in the audience. He'll only stare at her, memorizing what she does, watching her rebuild herself. He wanted her safe, he didn't want her to disappear. This is for the best.]
no subject
Just like the Woman is, now. The audience is enraptured by her, and he watches their reactions as often as he watches her sing. She's amazing, of course, but the way she draws them in, seduces them, is utterly enthralling. He stays silent throughout her performance, not bothering to applaud during the appropriate places. She has more than enough fans in the audience. He'll only stare at her, memorizing what she does, watching her rebuild herself. He wanted her safe, he didn't want her to disappear. This is for the best.]