"What're we having?" Bell asks, sitting up and indulging one bounce on the bed.

Bell blinks. "Cute, like - what do you mean by 'cute' here?"

"...I am not sure I have an exact definition," she says consideringly.

"Do you mean cute like a five year old or cute like I'm an exception to the people-who-could-beat-you-up criterion?" Bell specifies.

"The former."

"Okay. I don't have much of a filter on little mannerisms like that. Acting five is often a good substitute for acting actually crazy, and it's also often easier."

"Also more endearing," she observes.

"If I'm going to live here I suppose it is best that you like me," Bell says.

"I agree."

Bell's stomach gurgles. "We didn't actually eat anything the entire time we were sleeping off the drugs," she observes.

"That is true," says Sherlock. "I will make lunch."

"I'll wander around the house and learn where things are, if that's okay."

"Entirely."

"Do you want any help?"

"It would be convenient but not necessary for you to fetch Tony from downstairs," she says.

Bell goes downstairs in search of Tony!

Tony is playing with the generator and humming to himself.

"Sherlock is making risotto," reports Bell. "It'll be ready soonish. How are things going with your swag?"

"This generator and I are going to be very good friends," he says. "I'll be up in a few minutes; you guys can get started without me if you want."

"Okay. Also we have something fantastically awkward to tell you and I wound up with the job of issuing the speech but I think I'd rather say it with her in the room."

"...What, did you have sex or something...? Never mind, if you wanna tell me when she's there, tell me when she's there."