For all his movement, Moriarty can hold himself incredibly still, so much so that it's as though he's coiling all his energy up to save for the moment when he needs to strike. That question, that very question without any fear lurking on her face, makes Moriarty suspicious doubly so, and he lets out a quiet, "ah," while he stands there, still unmoving as he debates what he would like to do to her, were this to be Irene Adler. "I see you've grown something of a backbone, even without your precious USB," he says, eyes scanning her face for every minute reaction, every small detail.

When he catalogues the rest of her body like that, little things begin to pile up. Odd. Not quite odd enough to do anything about, though. He's patient.