[Mycroft stopped on the street for a moment, putting out one hand to stop Gregory, and give him a long and penetrative look. Blue eyes, like laser beams, searching Gregory's face.]

All right, let me me ask you something. By your tone, you clearly are not going to go looking. What if someone came looking for you, instead? Chased after you, heart on proverbial sleeve? Are you really going to deny yourself happiness?