"I agree," Sherlock said firmly, before slipping hands to his shirt and undoing the first few buttons, pulling it and his jacket down from his shoulder. He ignored the question for the more pressing discussion - something that had been bothering him since he had woken up again, safe and sound, back inside the capitol.

"See? No mark. Nothing." He replaced the clothing and then held up his hands. "My fingers were almost black with frostbite, and you can't even tell. I'm afraid my knowledge of science fiction isn't acute enough to theorize." The bitterness was more than obvious.