"If it's not raining outside, why do you carry an umbrella?"

Mycroft looked up at the sound of the rich, deep tenor, surprised to hear the voice and question directed at him. "It is merely a precaution." He answered automatically, silently studying the man in front of him. He looked away when a smile appeared on the strangers lips, sure his face was turning a light pink. "Is that how you usually start a conversation with a complete stranger?" Mycroft asked softly, watching as the other tried to hold in a chuckle.

"Mind if I join you? I mean, if you're busy I'll completely understand but you did ask a question after all and I feel like I should give you an answer."

Mycroft stared up into a pair of rich, dark brown eyes framed by the most outrageously long lashes he'd ever seen. "I, um, i-if you wish." Mycroft stammered. Frowning, he couldn't understand why he was so flustered by this stranger. Taking a deep breath, Mycroft watched as the other man pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down.

"Name's Greg Lestrade and you are?" Greg held out his hand across the table, a grin on his lips.

"I am Mycroft Holmes, Mr. Lestrade." Mycroft shook the hand held out to him, trying to suppress the shiver that raced through him at the short contact. He took a closer look at Greg, wondering why of all the people in the small cafe, would Greg want to sit with him.

"Now to answer your question, no, I don't usually open a conversation like that. It just seemed like a safer topic to go with versus approaching you with a smooth line and wicked smile." Greg grinned at Mycroft's shocked expression. He looked him over slowly, not missing the three piece suit, dark brown briefcase, and neatly folded newspaper. "Not used to someone taking into consideration how it would make you feel, yeah?" At the slow nod, Greg smiled as he leaned back in his chair. "And you're really not expecting anyone to join you later?"

"No, I assure you I am here alone." Mycroft tried not to stare at the man now sitting across from him. He was dressed in a black leather jacket. The chains and studs decorating the dark leather, shined and clinked when Greg moved. He had a head full of jet black hair, bangs falling in his face in a way that made Mycroft's fingers twitch. He wanted to brush back the dark stands, to push them off of Greg's face just to see his reaction. The desire to run his fingers through Greg's hair made him nervous. This was not a desire he could indulge in, no matter how appealing the other was. While Greg sat in silence watching him, Mycroft tried not to fidget. The dark, intense gaze was making his skin prickle with awareness, a sensation he was unaccustomed to. "May I ask a question, Mr. Lestrade?"

"Please, call me Greg. My mum calls me Gregory but my sister and everyone else calls me Greg."

Mycroft blinked at the correction but nodded, to stunned to give any type of sharp response. Clearing his throat, he started again. "May I ask you a question...Gregory?" He said the name softly, unsure if it would offend the other or not. When he looked up, Mycroft couldn't ignore the sudden look of interest in Greg's dark eyes.

Greg slowly leaned forward, nerves tingling in awareness of the posh man across from him. "You can as me whatever it is you want gorgeous."

Flushing in pleasure, Mycroft forced himself to keep his composure. Straightening, he held the smiling gaze across from him. "Why are you sitting here with me and not with your companions?" He'd seen the group behind Greg watching them. Had a sinking feeling that they were playing a joke at his expense. "Most people know who I am and avoid me, others would not make the effort."

"I've seen you around campus. You walk around with this air of being untouchable or unapproachable. I wanted to see for myself just how you really are." Greg held the ice gray gaze, noticed the flush darkening Mycroft's face the longer he sat at the table. "Am I making you uncomfortable or..." When Greg made the move to stand up, Mycroft stopped him with a soft sound of surprise.

"I...n-no. It is...most would not sit at the same table as I if they have already met my younger brother, Sherlock." Sighing softly, Mycroft watched as Greg slowly resumed his seat. A slow smile slowly curved his lips as he studied Mycroft. "I do not wish to keep you from anything important and anyone on campus can tell you..."

"That your brother has this unusually freaky ability to tell people their life history just by looking at them. I know, my roommate is in one of his classes and they seem to adore him." At Mycroft's look of worried panic, Greg frowned. "What's wrong, John isn't a bad sort. Actually he's one of the best blokes on campus and Sherlock seems to like him as well." When Mycroft paled, Greg moved forward. "Mycroft?"

"Is he...h-has Sherlock expressed any interest in your friend?" Forcing himself to remain calm, Mycroft scanned the small cafe. Sherlock was supposed to meet him here after class, if Greg's friend was the reason he was running late...

"Mycroft?"

Turning, Mycroft let out a soft sigh of relief at the sight of his younger brother. "Sherlock, you are late."

"Yes well it seems you were able to occupy your time while you waited." Sherlock studied the raven headed man sitting across from his brother "Just a forewarning, Lestrade, your attempt to get on my brothers good side will fail so if you will please excuse us..."

"Sherlock, there is no reason to be so rude. Mr. Lestrs...I-I mean, Gregory was simply chatting with me while I waited for you." Mycroft felt his face heating as he looked from his brother to the man across from him.

Sherlock dismissed the soft comment, bright gaze on the grinning man across from Mycroft. "How long have you been trying to get next to him with no success."

Greg grinned as he looked from Sherlock to Mycroft. "I wouldn't say no success, we were actually having a rather pleasant conversation concerning the weather and umbrella types." Holding the bright gaze across from him, Greg chuckled. "Your brother was telling me the reasons behind carrying one on a sunny day."

Looking from Greg to Mycroft, Sherlock slowly sat down next to his brother. "Mycroft?" He studied the other's profile, surprised to find him flushed and nervous. "Would either of you care to explain to me what is truly going on?"

Dark gaze narrowing, Greg frowned at Sherlock's tone. "Like I said, your brother was sitting here alone and I seized the opportunity to talk to him. I'm not playing at any games. I really wanted to know why he carried an umbrella." Giving Sherlock a hard look as he turned, Greg scowled. "And I haven't been trying to get next to him. Your brother is gorgeous, if I want to get to know him that shouldn't be an issue."

"It is not an issue, Gregory. Sherlock is very protective of me. Much as I am of him, so please forgive the questions, he is doing what brother's do best." Mycroft looked between Greg and Sherlock. He understood why his brother was concerned but he was also intrigued by Greg. There was something about the man dressed in jeans and leather jacket that appealed to him. When Greg looked at him from beneath his lashes, Mycroft had to force himself to remain still. His stomach fluttered at the dark, hot gaze moving over him. At the sound of someone clearing their throat, Mycroft blinked in surprise. Glancing over at Sherlock. "I apologize as well, brother, I did not give you the opportunity to introduce yourself."

Sherlock scowled at Mycroft, verdigris gaze narrowed on the flushed ginger next to him. "He already knows who I am, Mycroft, do not pretend..."

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock turned at the soft voice, blinking up in surprise at the worried gaze looking back at him. "Yes, John?"

John looked around the table, curious about the silent man studying him and the scowling man next to him. "Is everything alright? You, uh, you sounded upset, if I can help..." John held the luminescent gaze in front of him, stomach fluttering in excitement as he forced himself to remain still. "You sounded angry, Sherlock..."

Mycroft watched as Sherlock nodded, heart racing as he forced himself to remain calm. Whether his brother were aware of it or not, he had feelings for the blond standing next to him. "Hello, you must be John, Gregory's roommate." He could feel Greg's look of surprise but held the blue gaze. "I am Mycroft Holmes, Sherlock's older brother." Mycroft watched as John looked from Sherlock to Greg before turning back to him. "You are more than welcomed to join us, Mr. Watson." Mycroft watched as Sherlock whipped around, eyes narrowed in warning. "I am merely offering your friend the chance to allay his concerns." Holding the angry gaze, Mycroft forced himself to ignore Greg and John for the moment. He could see the warning written across Sherlock's face, knew there was going to be some form of a tantrum either at the cafe or later on in the day. When Sherlock slowly looked away, Mycroft let out a soft sigh of relief.

"For you two to be brothers, you don't seem to get on very well. Are you the reason Sherlock was yelling? Why, what did you say to ups..."

Mycroft cut John off with a hard look. "No, Mr. Watson, if you know my brother you know that there is nothing anyone can do to upset him, unless it is something he chooses to allow affect him." At John's scowl, Mycroft glanced over at his brother. He frowned at the worried look staring back at him. "He was merely worried I was getting in over my head with something."

"Or someone."

Mycroft blinked in surprise, turning to look at the grinning man across from him. "Gregory?"

"God, I love the way you say my name." Greg sat back in his chair, grinning at the blushing man across from him. Mycroft intrigued him more than anyone he's met, other than Sherlock. "John is right though, you two are completely different. Which isn't such a bad thing since I'm beginning to realize I like suits." When Mycroft's blush darkened, Greg felt his stomach clench. He forced back the image of them in bed, a blushing Mycroft laying beneath him...

Shaking his head, Greg let out a soft huff of laughter as he glanced at John. "It would seem we have more than just classes and sports in common, mate."

John nodded, looking between Sherlock and his brother. "Mmm, it would seem so." John said softly. He gave Sherlock a small grin at the surprised look. "Want to tell me why you were yelling now?"

"It is as Mycroft stated. I disagreed on his view of how certain situations should be...handled." Glancing over at Greg, Sherlock tried to hold back a scowl. He liked Greg, having met him through John, he'd found the other to be entertaining. Greg was one of the few upper classmen on campus who did not bully Sherlock for being one of the youngest students there. "Not everything he does is to my liking but I still worry." Sherlock glanced from John to his brother, a small curl of worry unfurling in his stomach. He remembered the last time Mycroft showed an interest in someone. The break up had left Mycroft devastated but he'd suffered in silence, hiding his pain from everyone...except the baby brother who always saw to much. "Now, if we can go back to why your roommate is sitting here with my brother..." Sherlock turned back to John with a look of wide eyed innocence. "You know Greg better than we do, John. Is he a danger to my brother?"

John forced himself to ignore the hot curl of lust unfurling in his stomach. Sherlock was underage but the look on his face...John jerked himself back to the present as a hand landed on his shoulder. Turning, he frowned to find Sebastian Moran grinning down at him. "Uh, hey Seb, what's going on?"

"Well, hello Johnny boy! Saw you over here with the freak and thought I'd come rescue you."

Stiffening in anger, John glanced back at Sherlock. The pale face and now flat expression made his chest constrict. "How many times do I have to keep telling you, he is not a freak. He just so happens to be smarter than most of us on campus."

"Yeah, yeah well this ability to tell our lives from a look is what a freak like him would do. Although with that beautiful mouth..."

"Oui, watch your mouth, Moran. I don't really appreciate your tone or the implication of your words. Either apologize to Sherlock and his brother or I'll make you apologize." Greg spoke softly, voice tight as he held the angry, stormy blue gaze now focused on him. "Don't think you can take me either, we both know that's a challenge you're not ready to accept." Greg watched as Sebastian looked from him to John before turning to Sherlock. "And make it sincere, Moran. If I feel it's less than, we will have words later."

John glared at Sebastian, waiting in angry silence as he struggled with his anger. "Spit it out Seb or leave. You have no right to disrespect Sherlock in such a way." Slowly standing, John watched as Sebastian stepped back. "We will talk later, hmmm?" Holding the angry gaze, John waited until Sebastian slowly backed away. When he disappeared from view, John let out a soft breath, forcing his hands to unclench as he turned back to the table. "I'm sorry, Sherlock, you shouldn't have had to hear that bit of idiocy." Shaking his head, John picked up his bag. "A-and I apologize to you as well, Mycroft. Not everyone on campus is as rude to Sherlock as Sebastian." Giving Sherlock a small smile, John glanced at Greg before turning and following after Sebastian.

"He will end up punching Seb for his words, always happens." Shaking his head. Greg stood up, reaching for the coffee cup in front of him. "Sherlock, I'll see you in class later?" When the dark head nodded, Greg grinned. "Good, if you need me to come meet you after physics..."

"N-no, umm, John...he, uh, John usually walks with me after class." Breathless, Sherlock tried to force back his reaction to John's anger. He had not been expecting John to defend him, not so strongly and in front of his brother. Looking up at Greg, Sherlock gave him a small smile. "I will see you in class."

Greg nodded in satisfaction before turning to Mycroft. "It was a great pleasure meeting you, Mycroft Holmes. I hope to see you again real soon." Giving Mycroft a wink, Greg turned and left the cafe, whistling softly as he disappeared into the afternoon crowd.

"He is not like the other, Mycroft. Lestrade is known to have a good heart with those he deems worthy." Studying the notes in front of him, Sherlock glanced up at his brother. "He and John hold study sessions with a few of their teammates struggling with their classes."

Mycroft frowned in concentration, thoughts going over his interactions with Greg. "And you are apart of these...study sessions?" He watched as Sherlock nodded, dark curls dancing around his face. "What subjects are part of this, group?" Curious, Mycroft waited as Sherlock turned to him with a thoughtful expression. "If you do not wish to..."

"Do you like Lestrade, he is rather popular among men and women alike." Sherlock studied his brother, thoughts going over everything he knew about Gregory Lestrade. "He comes from a good family. Father is military, mother a nurse, and his older sister is at University as well. He is the Captain of the football team as well as a member of the Junior Varsity debate team. Both he and John are members of one of the athletic fraternities as well."

Mycroft nodded, eyes on the coffee cup in front of him. It was luke warm at best and yet Greg had still taken a drink. "What do you do, specifically, Sherlock?" Looking up, Mycroft met the bright, angry gaze. "I do not mean to sound ill towards your friends. I am simply curious as to what subjects you are helping them with."

"Chemistry and phlebotomy. I am not as well versed in history as I would like but there are those who have passed despite my lack of knowledge." Shaking his head, Sherlock looked away from Mycroft. He hated having to admit his lack in knowing something, constantly aware of his brother's high expectations for him. "I am aware..."

"You are doing a very good thing, little brother." Mycroft cut Sherlock off with a small smile. "We will work on your history later, if you wish." When Sherlock nodded, Mycroft sighed. They didn't always get along but Mycroft loved his younger brother. When Sherlock had been admitted to Uni early, it had worried him. Not because he was afraid of Sherlock failing classes. Mycroft was afraid of someone taking advantage of his brother. "Perhaps I could attend one of your study sessions? If you are agreeable, that is?" Aware of Sherlock's intense need for privacy, Mycroft asked the question lightly. When Sherlock slowly nodded, Mycroft gave him a quick grin. "Now we must be off to classes, would you like to take something with you to eat or shall I bring something when classes are over?"

Sherlock studied the menu board, eyes moving quickly over the options posted. "Bring something sweet. Strawberries preferably and..." Frowning, Sherlock glanced over at Mycroft before letting out a soft sigh. "Bring something with chocolate. Lestrade and John both enjoy chocolate." Closing the book in front of him, Sherlock stood and turned to face his brother. "Will you be attending the music recital this evening or..."

Mycroft nodded, a surge of pride going through him as he thought about his younger brother. Sherlock was a talented violinist, for all of his knowledge, his playing was where he shined best. "I will be there of course. I would not miss your solo for the world."

Pleased, Sherlock nodded before giving Mycroft a quick once over. "I will see you at the end of classes then." Turning, Sherlock left the cafe, his coat flaring out behind him dramatically.

Smiling, Mycroft glanced back over to where Greg had been sitting. He was surprised by his anger towards one of his friends, especially since it concerned Sherlock. He was even surprised at the anger from John Watson on behalf of his brother. Shaking his head, Mycroft stood, gathering his briefcase, long coat, and umbrella. He glanced down at the long, slim handle. Black polished wood that hid a blade if he needed added protection. Turning, Mycroft left the table, heading towards the counter to place his order. If he did nothing else, he would get the requested sweets Sherlock had asked for. Then, if he had time later, maybe he would stop by the study group...if for no other reason to check on his younger brother.