Sherlock One shots and Imagines

Virtuoso - Part 1 - Mycroft x Sherlock x Reader

The Royal Albert Hall, the home of the Proms, of concerts, ballets and operas; in fact, if you name it, the great hall opened in 1871 by Queen Victoria as a tribute to her late husband, had probably been the venue for it. And here Sherlock was, dressed in his tuxedo making his way to the impressive building with all the others that had come for tonight's concert.

Normally he wouldn't be doing this, nor would his date for the evening be the one he would want to be with, Sherlock rolling his eyes as he spied Mycroft, smugly smiling in his direction, as he stood next to the entrance; but this.........this he had to see. Mycroft having practically waved a ticket underneath his nose, which in the long run would probably cost Sherlock far more than he dared to imagine, when his brother next needed a favour; but to see the virtuoso, a woman that made his way with a violin sound like the screeching's of cackhanded beginner, the younger Holmes was prepared to do what it took.

He himself had attempted to get a ticket before to see the violinist called (Y/f/n) (Y/l/n), yet whenever he had tried, he had always been too late; even John with his computer had never been quick enough to be able to acquire Sherlock the chance to see the artist that the younger Holmes had first heard playing by accident. The way that she made her instrument sound, touching even Sherlock's heart. So, when his brother had informed him that not only did he have tickets for the concert where the violinist would be centre stage; but also he had an invitation to meet the virtuoso afterwards. John more than a little taken aback when Sherlock had taken the ticket, once he knew that Mycroft would be going with him. But here Sherlock was, sure that to see (Y/n), even he could deal with his brother for one night. Though given Mycroft's continued grin, the consulting detective was beginning to wonder.

"Brother mine." Mycroft said, as Sherlock came to join him.

"Shall we go in.............?" The older Holmes continued. Sherlock not even nodding, before turning and making his way into the famous building.

                                                      >>---------------------------------------<<

Sherlock and Mycroft had sat in some of the best seats in the house. The younger Holmes finding himself strangely transfixed from the moment the beautiful violinist had stepped out on stage. A soft smile gracing her features, as the audience had applauded. He had wanted to deduce her, to figure out as much as he could about the violinist before he got to meet her; but from the moment that she had placed the bow to strings, Sherlock had found himself lost. Lost in the music, in the way that she swayed as the sounds filled the air. Everything from Mozart to Mendelssohn, to Vivaldi and Bach enticing his senses. His eyes closing, as each note seemed surround him. The consulting detective sure that every quaver and crotchet flashed colours behind his shut lids. But all too soon, the experience was over. Sherlock opening his eyes to find the virtuoso standing and taking a bow, as the audience got up from seats and gave her the applause that the younger Holmes believed that the beautiful woman deserved. The violinist bowing again, before a huge bouquet of flowers was brought out from the wings and presented to her. The calls of "BRAVA" and "MORE" heard throughout the venue; the artist obliging the crowd and retaking her chair, Camille Saint-Saëns' Danse macabre silencing the audience's pleas.

                                                        >>-------------------------------------<<

"Well..............?" Mycroft asked, as he looked down at Sherlock who was still sat in his seat. The rest of the audience making their way back out into the lobby; many of them ready to go onto dinner. To boast to their friends about what they had just seen. But he had better things to do; he was about to meet the woman that had even touched his usually well concealed emotions. Sherlock quickly getting to his feet and joining his older brother, as they made their way to the green room.

                                                        >>-------------------------------------<<

Intimate. There was no better word for it. A part of Sherlock had expected others to be there. He had expected that the room would be full of bodies all uncomfortably pushed up together, as they waited for the violinist to make an appearance. But he should have known better, this was Mycroft after all, so as Sherlock walked into the room, he found that the only people that were to meet the virtuoso, were the two of them.

"Don't say anything foolish will you............." Mycroft suddenly said, as he took a glass of champagne.

"I don't want you..........what do they call it..........fangirling.........over Miss (Y/l/n)." The older Holmes continued. Sherlock merely rolling his eyes and wondering where Mycroft had come across a word such as fangirling; sure that that it would be an answer in a Times crossword. Though before he could say anything in reply, the door opposite them opened and in walked the woman that until really a few moments before, had been enchanting the detective.

"Mycroft.........I am so glad that you could come..............." The violinist said cheerily, as she made her way over to the two men." Mycroft reaching out and carefully shaking her hand.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world, (Y/n). Oh, and may I introduce my brother.......Sherlock." Mycroft replied, as he moved out of the way and allowed his sibling to move forward. Sherlock quite shocked at himself, as the breath seemed to leave his lungs as the virtuoso smiled just at him. Her hand fitting perfectly in his, as Sherlock reached out and took it. The younger Holmes for once in his life unable to say anything, as she looked up into his eyes.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Sherlock. Mycroft has told me so much about you................" (Y/n) said. The violinist looking between the two brother's as Sherlock turned to glare at Mycroft.