Shadamy one shots.

My Dear Rosie

Amy Rose was Queen.

She wore a dress of grey and silver, and a crown of diamonds sat upon her head as she looked around, with the small smile that diplomatically graced her face. The palace was alive with the beautiful melody played by the Royal band in the ballroom of gold and white. Nobles from all over Mobius in enchanting clothes and pretty smiles, danced and laughed, relishing in the lavish festive atmosphere of the Solstice Ball.

She glided through the midst of the crowd effortlessly, the people moved out of the way for Her Royal Highness to pass through, greeted by the dignitaries and socialites she barely knew. The lords bowed so deeply that their noses almost brushed the ground and the ladies prattled about subjects she only barely pretended to understand. Every eye looked at her with respect, reverence, and desire...

Wait, that can't be right.

Her eyes snapped back to the pair of reddish brown eyes that looked at her with desire and nostalgia.

And he smirked.

Of course, he did.

She had a soft smile on her face as he approached her.

He looked the same as he used to, with his ebony quills streaked with red, the same red that outline his eyes, the same red that danced in those gorgeous brown irises. He wore a coat of midnight blue embroidered with silver, buttoned up, that flared at his legs. Ever one to make a fashion statement was Lord Shadow The Hedgehog of Stormwind.

He stood a little away from her and bowed, holding out a hand to her, with that delicious smirk of his that she had always loved.

"May I have this dance, Your Majesty?"

With the slightest tilt of her head and a warm smile, the warmest she'd offered anyone that day, she accepted it and soon she was whisked away into a waltz, their feet moving smoothly; attuned to each other's speed as though they had done it a million times over.

It would have felt like that back when she was preparing for her debutante ball and a certain son of a lord taught her over and over again, till she got it right. He teased her mercilessly till she had flung her shoe at him and he decided they had rehearsed enough. To make up for it, he had sneaked her off to the rooftop of the palace and treated her to a stolen bottle of liquor from the King's private reserves.

She had been horrified, but he had laughed. Even as she coughed up the first glass she had tried, even as she had dumped the entire bottle on his head. He had just laughed.

She bit her lip, trying to conceal an undignified smirk, as the same mischief danced in his eyes as it did all those years ago.

"Whatever could your royal highness be laughing about? Surely, my dancing is not that bad?" He teased as he twirled her and brought her back in, his hand gentle on her waist, comfortable as though it had not been years since they had last met.

"I see the years have not dulled your sense of wit, My Lord," She answered, her eyes twinkling, betraying just how much she was enjoying it.

"I should feel cursed if they did, My dear Rosie," He smirked back, not missing a beat.

My dear Rosie.

She had not heard that one for so long and she hadn't realized how much she had missed it. It took her back to when they were younger, running through the meadows without their shoes on; a time when he had convinced her to use a rope swing over a creek, only for her to slip face-first into the mud. Her maids were appalled at the state of her dress that day. Shadow had said that she looked as though she had cleaned the creek of its mud and when she had finally seen herself in a mirror, she couldn't help, but laugh. It did not look far from the truth.