Sherlock had thought long and hard about how he was to respond to Irene's request. After all, each had an advantage and disadvantage. If she were to type out what had happened, he could present it to the Irene Adler of this time. He already had the note safely hidden away, and her own verification would help prove a point to her. But he would be unable to observe the way she held herself, her mannerisms and facial expressions. John had told him who she was, what she had done in their own world. He had managed to figure out most of it on his own. At least, what she was, that she was more than a name. But John had filled in the blanks. A woman he had outwitted and she had lost her life because he knew her secrets and nothing was safe. No wonder she didn't like him. Not that Sherlock actually cared one way or the other about people liking him. But it did make sense of why she was working with Moriarty here.
Still, she had apparently caught him off guard once by being naked. He doubted that would be the case here even if she was in a hospital gown, he could still make his perceptions. But then there would be the issue of what was said. He would know more certainly if she were lying, though he already knew a woman such as Irene Adler would never allow herself to be injured in a way to ruin her career. But it would be harder to convince the present time Irene of what had happened. Oh undoubtedly Moriarty from three years in the future would do something to her. She couldn't remain naive. But how much was to be known? That was the question. And Sherlock hated questions without answers. There had been pacing involved before the ever so simple answer occurred to him. A tape recorder. They were quite useful, really.
Solution in mind, the man had responded to Irene, made sure that the batteries would last and then headed to the medbay. He already knew the basics. John had filled him in. He knew that she was not the woman that had enjoyed taunting them here. He had put the pieces together as he always did, still when he saw Irene, it was rather startling, though the only reaction he gave was a slight raise of the eyebrows. It would be rude to simply snap a picture... No matter. Making his way to the seat beside Irene's bed, Sherlock noted that other people who were there, the FBI agent who had been drugged up for a few weeks now, but she looked to be unconscious. Good.
Pressing play, Sherlock turned his attention to a future version of Irene Adler.
"Miss. Adler."
This was probably madness. He knew that there had been a mess involving someone from the future wishing to leave information they had here for their normal selves. Something about how it would alter everything. He had heard talk of butterfly theories and stepping on a bug and wiping people out of existence. This information could be more damaging than good, but Sherlock still hadn't decided just what he would do with it. He couldn't allow Moriarty to stay in power, that much was certain but he had to figure out just how to use the information he was to be given to ensure that Moriarty was no longer a threat but hopefully keep from destroying time as well.