"Yes yes, we pinky promise, cross our hearts, hope to die, et cetera, et cetera," Sherlock said impatiently. He wasn't exactly predisposed towards restraint when he was on the verge of solving a puzzle or getting answers to burning questions, and as far as burning questions went, the ones he had right now were scalding.

Right now, the Doctor had front row seats to viewing the personal character of this version of Sherlock Holmes and he wasn't quite the virtuous figure of the stories. He was absorbed in the discussion with the Ghyyl but the way he looked at the little aliens made it clear that he saw them as simply a means to an end, components in a puzzle. There was no concern or compassion in his gaze as he looked at them and he was entirely unaffected by their very visible fear.

"Now, what were you just doing to the ship? Sabotage of some kind?"