Mycroft watched as Sherlock enchanted the crowd with his solo. Heard the soft whispers of awe and praise and felt his chest swell with pride. Here was the fruits of Sherlock's hard work, the proof of his busy days and sleepless nights. He heard Greg ask John about the piece, how long had Sherlock been practicing and who was it for. As a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips, Mycroft watched as Sherlock moved with the melody. The piece was one that poured out of his brothers soul. One that told of the pain and heartache they both suffered growing up and the triumph for having overcome the odds.
"Is this for you Mycroft?"
Turning, Mycroft flushed to find Greg watching him in the dark. Nodding his head, he gave the other a quick grin. "Sherlock wanted something with feeling, this piece describes every memory important to him."
Greg nodded, turning back to the stage he watched Sherlock. "Who is the blond at the piano, is she dating Sherlock or..."
"No, Emilie is the third eldest child of the St, Cyr family. She and Sherlock have known each other since childhood." Frowning, Mycroft wondered if Greg were interested in Emilie or not. "She was a classmate until Sherlock's acceptance into University."
"She is beautiful, the way she plays is almost a perfect balance for Sherlock's playing."
"Yes, most would not see her in that light but, that is true." Glancing over at John, Mycroft was surprised at the expression on the blonds face. "Do you get to hear him often, Mr. Watson?"
John chuckled softly, eyes still on the brunette on stage. "No, not as much as I would like and never something as wonderful as this." Voice soft, John let his gaze move over Sherlock, taking in the relaxed shoulders and loose stance. "He loves his violin, talks about it quite often."
Mycroft nodded, a smile curving his lips. "He has played since he was five, such a wonderful talent for one so smart." Mycroft watched as Sherlock entered the final strains of his piece. It was a part he'd not heard, not this particular melody. Then it hit him...his accident. Sherlock had taken his accident the hardest, thinking he'd lost his older brother at the hands of a selfish, sadistic lord. He listened to his brothers pain, the fear, and heartbreak had been real for them both. More so for Sherlock because of his dependency on Mycroft's presence in his life. He hadn't been aware of how deeply affected his brother had been until the last notes had faded and the crowd was standing on their feet.
Taking a deep, shaky breath, Mycroft stood, clapping with everyone else. Watching the smile that curved Sherlock's lips, Mycroft let out a soft breath. People will be talking about Sherlock's performance for a while. Long enough for him to go about his next greatest passion...solving crimes with New Scotland Yard. "Perfect." Voice soft, Mycroft was not aware of being watched, his focus was on Sherlock and the wide smile curving his lips. "He was..."
"Absolutely magnificent. There is no other way to describe it, I have never heard anything so fantastic as what Sherlock just played." John grinned, glancing at both Mycroft and Greg. "I'm going to go congratulate him, he deserves to know just how wonderful his performance was."
Chuckling, Greg looked around them. "He knows mate, from everyone here, he knows."
"It is the opinions of those who he is closest to that matter the most. Mr. Watson is correct in his desire to congratulate Sherlock. Sherlock will enjoy it most from him." Mycroft gave John and Greg a small smile before turning back to the stage. He was met by a piercing gaze filled with worry, the colors swirling in chaos until he gave a small head nod and quick grin. "Absolutely perfect." Mycroft whispered, watching as a flush bloomed across his brothers cheeks and his smile widened in pleasure. He realized Sherlock had been more worried about Mycroft's reaction to the piece than anyone else's. "He will enjoy it more if he is allowed to go back and find the person who destroyed your room." Glancing over at the two grinning men, Mycroft shook his head. He tried to push back the thrill of excitement that ran through him at Greg's look. "Mr. Lestr...I-I mean, Gregory?"
Greg grinned, a slow curve of his lips as he watched Mycroft. "You're more than the typical big brother, aren't you? This piece meant something to both of you, didn't it?" Greg saw the look of pride on Mycroft's face, knew that the ending had taken him by surprise but he was still proud of his younger brother. "Sherlock puts everything he has in to whatever he sets his mind to. If I'm not mistaken, this was from the heart of you both?"
Sucking in a quick breath, Mycroft looked from Greg to John then back. "Sherlock is very passionate about his music, something he's always been exceptional at. When he stopped playing it was..." Mycroft broke off as he struggled to find the right words. "It was disturbing for both of us. This is his first solo after not hearing anything for a while. You would be correct when saying it is from the heart of us both."
John frowned, aware of the change in mood between the flushed ginger and his silent friend. "Amazing." He whispered. Giving Greg a pat on the back, he turned and headed down the aisle towards the stage. John wanted Sherlock's attention away from the group now surrounding him. When he was standing on the outside of the circle, he waited, breath held until verdigris eyes looked up at him with a smile. Waving, John watched as Sherlock walked away from the young lady talking to him. A nervous giggle escaped him when Sherlock was finally standing in front of him. "That was absolutely amazing, Sherlock. I've never heard anything so wonderful in my life."
Sherlock flushed in pleasure as John grinned back at him. "Thank you, John. It helped that I had such a wonderful pianist as well." Sherlock glanced back at Emilie before turning back to John. "Did you truly enjoy it, John?"
John felt his heart flutter as he looked up at the taller youth. "It was breathtakingly beautiful, I loved every note." John watched as Sherlock slowly moved closer, his smile softer than before. "Maybe later, when, uh, when you are free..."
"I am free now, John. Come, I need to see Mycrft before we leave." Turning, Sherlock waved at Emilie before he and John made their way back to Mycroft and Greg. Frowning, Sherlock studied his brother, noticing again the flushed face and shy smile. He was curious about how relaxed Mycroft had become around Greg, until a small hand pressed against his back. Turning, Sherlock smiled down at the blond next to him. "Yes, John?"
"Is everything alright, you're frowning?" John studied the concerned expression, wondering at the dark look. "
"Yes, John." Shaking his head, Sherlock sighed. He did not wish to ruin the evening with unfounded worries. Giving John a small grin, Sherlock turned and headed up the aisle. "Mycroft?" He watched as his brother stood, smile wide, eyes shining with pride. "It was..."
"It was perfect." Mycroft grinned at his beaming brother, pride making his chest swell. "It was everything I was expecting and more. You truly out did yourself, Sherlock, this was one performance I shall never forget." Mycroft felt his heart constrict as he watched Sherlock's expression brighten. "You have done what you set out to do, little brother, you have changed the way others listen to music."
Sherlock laughed, a deep rumble of pleasure as he hugged Mycroft. "It was truly wonderful, Mycroft! To be back on the stage and to feel the music as it flowed through me! The notes seemed to drift in harmony as my bow moved across the strings." Sherlock let his eyes drift close as he played an air violin, a small smile of pleasure curving his lips. "It was magnificent."
"And yet you still can't seem to keep up with this."
Eyes snapping open in surprise, Sherlock looked down to find his Stradivarius sitting in front of him. Turning, he sighed in relief to find Emilie standing behind him. "Thank you, I was not trying..."
"You are welcome, little brother. Take care of her and big brother, I will see you both soon."
Nodding, Sherlock opened his violin case and smiled. "It was..."
"Magnificent."
Looking up, Sherlock gave John a wide grin. Closing the case, Sherlock slowly stood, holding the wide blue gaze in front of him. "Come John, we still have to find the ones who destroyed your room."
Nodding, John felt his grin widen as Sherlock winked at him before turning and heading towards the exit. Glancing at Greg and Mycroft, he waved. "Well gentlemen, looks as if I have a date, so if you will excuse me..." John chuckled as he followed after Sherlock, running to catch up with the rapidly moving brunette.
"He's going to give John a run for his money." Greg chuckled before turning back to Mycroft. He frowned at the look of worry that appeared on the others face. "Mycroft, you alright?"
Blinking in surprise, Mycroft looked at Greg, thoughts going over John's statement. "I am well Gregory, thank you." He resisted the urge to follow after his brother, thoughts drifting back to his past. "I do not wish for Sherlock to get into any trouble on such a successful evening." He forced his voice to remain even, hoping Greg didn't pick up on his worry. Shaking his head, Mycroft gave Greg a small smile before turning to follow after John and Sherlock. "Do you not have plans as well, Gregory?"
"No immediate plans, why, offering to keep me company for the night?" Greg grinned as Mycroft missed a step, watching as his hands tightened around his bag. "I haven't eaten dinner and I'm pretty sure you haven't either. Care to join me for something light?"
Mycroft stopped at the doorway and turned. Taking a deep breath, he started to refuse Greg, until dark, laughing eyes met his. The man standing in front of him had been nothing if not a gentleman and he was friends with Sherlock. What's the worst that could happen from them enjoying dinner? "Do you like Italian, Gregory?"
"If it looks and smells as good as you, I'm sure I'll like it just fine." Greg winked at the surprised look Mycroft gave him. "Come on, I know of a nice little place not to far from campus. We can get something light and enjoy a coffee and dessert."
Mycroft felt his heart flutter at the thought of something so simple. Giving Greg a small, shy nod, he followed the other out of the auditorium and to the right. Glancing back behind him, Mycroft looked in the direction of the dorms. "Gregory, are you certain Sherlock..."
"He's with John so he'll be fine. If anything happens they will call us, I sent John a text letting him know where I would be. Now, relax and just enjoy the evening, ok?" Greg reached back and gripped Mycroft's hand. He felt the surprise from the other, couldn't ignore the slight tightening of slim, pale fingers. "You play the piano and quite well if Sherlock is to go by."
Letting out a soft breath of surprise, Mycroft looked at their hands. "Since I was three, mother felt I needed to learn early." Voice soft, he let Greg lead him away from campus and down the street. "Gregory..."
"God, if you keep saying my name like that..." Greg stopped and looked at the taller man. "Don't think Myc, just go with the flow. Feel how the night goes, if it's good we can go from there, if not, hey..." Greg shrugged, a crooked grin curving his lips. "Just means I'll have to try harder next time around."
Mycroft felt his face heating as Greg turned and continued down the street. He followed the other, hand tingling from clutching Greg. Glancing once again at their hands, Mycroft let out a soft breath and decided to take Greg's advice. If going with the flow meant he could spend more time with the dark stranger then he would gladly do so. Especially if it meant he could feel the strong fingers tangled with his. Hear the low, smoky voice as Greg said his name, and bask in the warmth of the others smile as he teased or encouraged Mycroft to talk. It was dinner, again, what's the worst that could happen?
