[Sherlock feels the heat of embarrassment crawling up his neck when he gets a better view of Irene's lower half, and from his decided lapse of grace. Which gets more credit remains a mystery. However, when Irene pulls him up, his lip twists into a snarl, not unlike a cornered animal.]

My apologies. Shorthand seemed sufficient.

[His expression eases when she releases him, not even flinching with his face so close to hers. Other men would find themselves leaning forward in spite of themselves, but Sherlock did not. Even by pirate standards, he's considered strange.]

I'd like to be in my own cabin and sailing off in the opposite direction, actually.

[He knows why he's here. Though the map he carried with him was a fake, the entirety of the real one was imprinted in his brain.]