Well, I won't know without any data, will I? I'm hardly going to start making wild guesses out of nowhere. What good would that do?
[ The question is, obviously, rhetorical, as Sherlock promptly goes back to ignoring John and pulling out a pocketknife he'd found in his first search through his coat when he'd woken up identityless a few days proir, using it to cut off a little bit of each part of the plant for him to examine back at the flat. There was no point in pulling the whole thing down just yet. If the individual components don't yield any results, he can always come back for more.
He clambers back down and dusts himself off, delicately tucking the bits of flora into one of the pockets of his coat, then looks around. Suddenly studying this part of the island isn't nearly as interesting or important as examining the potential mind-controlling plant heretofore unknown to science (or, possibly, some kind of trigger they'd been programmed to respond to upon fulfilling specific criteria? Pointless to speculate.) With his hands both bunched in his pockets now, Sherlock bounces uncertainly on his feet for a brief moment before ducking down and pressing his mouth to John's again -- just because he could, and it felt nicer than he might have guessed, not that he'd spent much time thinking about it until five minutes ago. ]
no subject
[ The question is, obviously, rhetorical, as Sherlock promptly goes back to ignoring John and pulling out a pocketknife he'd found in his first search through his coat when he'd woken up identityless a few days proir, using it to cut off a little bit of each part of the plant for him to examine back at the flat. There was no point in pulling the whole thing down just yet. If the individual components don't yield any results, he can always come back for more.
He clambers back down and dusts himself off, delicately tucking the bits of flora into one of the pockets of his coat, then looks around. Suddenly studying this part of the island isn't nearly as interesting or important as examining the potential mind-controlling plant heretofore unknown to science (or, possibly, some kind of trigger they'd been programmed to respond to upon fulfilling specific criteria? Pointless to speculate.) With his hands both bunched in his pockets now, Sherlock bounces uncertainly on his feet for a brief moment before ducking down and pressing his mouth to John's again -- just because he could, and it felt nicer than he might have guessed, not that he'd spent much time thinking about it until five minutes ago. ]