"You did," she admits.

Bell giggles for no good reason. "Is that the primary reason that you'd like to feel differently about being good at killing people?"

"I don't know."

"I think we should, yes."

"That sounds awkward. 'Hi, Tony, how are you doing with the generator and the gun collection, by the way I recently fell into drug-induced love with your sister and vice-versa because Fucking Milliways'."

She smiles slightly. "I see what you mean."

"Maybe it'll work better if you tell him. Do you have a way to tell him that's less awful than that?"

"...Not as such," she admits.

"And not telling him also sounds awkward," grumbles Bell. "Fucking Milliways."

"Unfortunately, yes."

"Okay. Since I have my speech on the subject composed already, so very eloquently, should I just do it the next time I see him or will you?"

"You may as well. Unless you would rather I did."

"The only reason to prefer that overall is if he'd take it better from you. You know him better than I do."

"The source of the information will not impact his reception significantly."

"Okay. Me then. How is he likely to react?"

"Sympathetically."

"Okay. That's good."

"I expect he will also be confused. He frequently is."

"Well, it's confusing. And horrible. And if you ever find out who set it up you should probably go ahead and murder them."

"Noted."

"Should I go find him now or just wait until - lunch or whatever? What time of day is it?"

"Midmorning. Lunch was a good guess."

"Lunch it is, then. Will I get to try your cooking?"

"You will," says Sherlock. "It will be pleasant."