[action]
[ Not many people know more than his name or his voice at this juncture, depending on how well they've been paying attention to his other open conversations. Though he wouldn't consider this relationship to Light very friendly (none of his connections are, really), he isn't particularly threatened by him.
Light will find Sherlock in a state of repose, leaning back in an armchair with a violin laid across his lap. There is a metal canister near his foot and a small stack of papers on the nearby table. He seems to be wiping down the bow of the instrument with a cloth when the other approaches, and looks up without stopping the motion. ]
Correct.
[ He half-nods to the stack of papers nearby ]
Those are copies of the data. Take as many as you like.
[ That pale-eyed stare is calculating, even if the expression is nonchalant ]