"No! No, no, no! What do you think you're doing? Don't touch it, don't touch any of that, I'm not finished with it yet."

Sherlock literally leaped over the back of John's chair, smearing cold stew over his hands, in order to stand between John and his experiment. His voice held a slightly manic quality, the sort of voice that always came on when he had too little to occupy his brain and too many thoughts at once. The sort of time that Mycroft might call a 'danger time'.

"I told you that I have a theory regarding decomposition and I'm testing it with the only, albeit meagre, supplies that we have here in the flat. I tried to call Mrs. Hudson to go out and get some fresh liver from the supermarket, but she said something boring about the roads being closed."