"Yes," she agrees, sounding slightly puzzled.

"I have never fallen in love with anybody before," Bell murmurs. "I wonder if it would have been so recognizable if it wasn't so sudden."

"I... don't think I have, either," says Sherlock. "And I don't believe I would have recognized it if you hadn't noticed first."

"I'm good at knowing what's going on in my head," says Bell mirthlessly.

"So I have observed."

"It's not usually as practically useful as one might think. It just seems important to know, to me. But I guess today..." She squirms. And snuggles closer.

Sherlock hugs her.

"I was about to suggest that we go in my room or yours or wherever and see if we can sleep it off but actually it's possible being alone in a room would be a bad idea relative to what we'll think after it does wear off. Assuming it does. Milliways isn't usually that... terrible."

"And I—no," she says, "on second thought, I could sleep with you."

"Oh, right, that thing, I forgot," Bell says. "Wait. You could? You think so?"

"I am not horrified at the thought."

"And with most people you are so this is a safe gauge," says Bell.

"Yes."

"Okay. Do you want to try that? On reflection I don't think I'm actually going to try anything I'd regret, not if I don't mean to."

"All right," says Sherlock.

"The bed in my room will be squishy for two. Is yours any better?"

"Yes."

"Show me?" Bell asks.

"Sorry."

And up the stairs they go. Bell folds her hands behind her back and attempts to follow Sherlock by looking at her feet.

Sherlock forbears to comment.