Natasha looked up as Sherlock and John exited the burning house, making sure to keep a tight hold on the man she'd caught sneaking out the back. He was kneeling on the sidewalk, sporting a fresh cut on his face. "Hello boys," she greeted casually. "No sign of the police just yet, but I made a new friend."

"I noticed." Sherlock said with a smirk, taking in deep breaths now that they were well away from the smoke. He still held the laptop in one hand, reaching the other to ruffle his hair. The distant sound of sirens met his ears and he nodded once. "Nice work, this was rather fun wasn't it."

"I wouldn't say that." Victor quipped from a few feet away. His expression was wary, like he didn't want to be there anymore.

"It was fun," Natasha confirmed. "I could go for a bite to eat now, too. I'm starving." Her eyes turned towards John and she smiled again. "I'd like my gun back too."

"Yes, of course." John moved quickly, approaching her with a wary look to return the weapon.

Natasha straightened and put it away while keeping one hand on the man she'd captured. "Thank you, doctor," she quipped.

Two police cars along with the fire brigade pulled up in front of the building and there was a sudden flurry of activity. Uniformed men filed out to take care of the fire, while officers made sure to keep the gathering crowd at bay. Detective Inspector Lestrade elbowed his way over and headed straight for Sherlock after a quick look up at the building. "What've you got for me?"

"One counterfeiter ready to arrest, he was caught fleeing the fire behind me, from the looks of him he's below average and will make a full confession if you pressure him just a bit. One witness to your right, engineer that's short a thumb and more than ready to not be in our presence anymore. Also one laptop which has the programming software that enabled said counterfeiter to counterfeit. And lastly, one burning building, that's consuming any and all other evidence, but I'm confident what I have will convict your perpetrators without any doubt." Sherlock relayed calmly as he offered the laptop to Lestrade. "Now, I believe I have a lunch date."

Natasha bit back a smile. "I'll hail down a cab."

Lestrade took the computer in his hands, used to Sherlock fast talking through his explanations after so many years working with the man. He eyed the engineer before turning his eyes to the man still kneeling on the pavement, and the redhead holding him in place. He stepped over and stretched out his hand with a friendly smile. "Greg Lestrade," he introduced himself.

"A pleasure, I'm sure," Natasha replied once she'd torn her eyes away from Sherlock to take Lestrade's hand. "I'm assuming you've got this under control?"

"Hm?" Lestrade shook himself out of his momentary daze. "Yeah, of course. Yes." He took his hand back and turned away. "Donovan!"

Natasha stepped back to tie her trench coat closed. "Shall we, then?"

"I think we shall." Sherlock said, dusting his coat off for a moment. He gave a single nod and offered a small but brief smile to Natasha before saying, "Come along John, we're relatively close to a nice Chinese place. The owner always gives me extra portions."

John's jaw had dropped slightly and he blinked a couple times. "Sherlock, wh-"

But he was interrupted by Sherlock, who turned clear blue eyes his way. "You haven't had lunch yet, and your next appointment isn't until 1:15, plenty of time for something to eat. Besides, you have questions."

"You could say that." John said, glancing at Natasha again. He looked over his shoulder at Lestrade and Donovan, who were already going over the events with Victor near one of the police cars. "Fine, let's go to lunch."

Natasha wordlessly hailed a cab and it was only a few minutes before they arrived at the Chinese place Sherlock had instructed the cabbie to take them to. John kept his questions to himself on the way over, limiting his curiosity to short glances and shakes of his head. Natasha settled for pushing her sunglasses up to her head and watching the passing buildings.

It was only once they were sitting at a table and looking through the options that John lowered his menu and clasped his hands on top. He gave Sherlock a pointed look and tipped his head in Natasha's direction. "Alright. Explain."

Sherlock clasped his hands on the table and fixed his eyes on John. "John, meet Natasha." Natasha looked up and did a little wave at the introduction before going back to her menu. "We crossed paths couple weeks ago. She saved my life in Paris, and is now here in London to visit for a few days. I'm not sure what else you need explained."

John opened and closed his mouth once before he could find the words to speak again. "Is she your..." He trailed off, wary of using the word. "Friend or something? I mean, you don't usually have people over for visits." He eyed Natasha again. "Certainly not people that look like her and carry a gun."

Sherlock quirked a brow. "Yes, I suppose she's my friend." He said after a moment. "And what do you mean 'people that look like her'? I'm confused."

"I mean yes there's people that look like her, but not people that look like her and carry a gun and stay with you," John tried to explain. "I mean she's..." Natasha looked up and he gestured at her face before giving up with a sigh. He rubbed his forehead. "This is Janine all over again, isn't it?"

Natasha closed her menu and set it down with a faint smile. "Not exactly," she said.

"Not Janine." Sherlock agreed. "She's a friend here to visit, do I need to spell it out further?"

John ignored Sherlock's question with a furrowed brow and fixed his eyes on Natasha, suspicious, protective. "Who are you? Really?"

Natasha waited a beat before launching into a short explanation. "Natasha Romanoff. Previously a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Currently unemployed." She paused. "In a manner of speaking."

"Natasha Romanoff," John repeated, slowly piecing things together from what he'd seen on the news, and a stray comment here and there from Mary herself. "There was something about you on the news."

"I wasn't always a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent," she said vaguely. "Anything else?"

"She saved my life, John." Sherlock said again. "I'm not exaggerating, I wouldn't have made it out of Paris if she'd not been there."

"You came back seven days ago." John stated. "But you met her 'a couple weeks ago'. What did you do in Paris for a week?"

"Stopped a human trafficking ring." Sherlock answered immediately.

John let out a humorless laugh. "You know this sounds like another James Bond knockoff."

"James Bond could stand to learn a thing or two from me," Natasha joked with a straight face. "I'll try not to take offense."

The waitress interrupted the conversation to take their orders, and disappeared with their menus a second later. John had lapsed into thoughtful silence, and Natasha found herself stealing a peek at Sherlock before returning her eyes to John.

"I have no ulterior motives here," she felt the need to add, because evidently John was important to Sherlock and she wanted, surprisingly, to put him at ease. "I'm not manipulating him either. I'm not taking advantage. I... like him."

"Forgive me if I don't trust the word of an assassin and a spy," John said mildly.

"Okay." Natasha leaned forward and twined her hands together on top of the table. "What do you need me to say here?"

"I thought my word would be enough." Sherlock commented, earning a mildly annoyed look from John. "Besides…association with a spy, former or not, sounds considerably familiar."

"I…I just don't know, Sherlock."

Sherlock smiled just a bit. "When have I been predictable?"

"Frankly, I don't think you've ever been predictable," John acknowledged with a short laugh. He eyed Natasha again, this time a little less defensive. "I suppose I can take your word for it," he told Sherlock.

John smiled a bit and Natasha smiled in return. "I did lend you my gun."

"That you did, and it's a very nice piece," John agreed. "I'll ask one last thing." He cleared his throat. "Should I or should I not start texting before I come over from now on?"

"You text most of the time anyways." Sherlock said, completely missing the point. "Why would you need to ask about it?" John looked just a bit relieved, but was cut off by Sherlock's continuation. "We are sleeping together, but she's not moving in and her visits will be sporadic. Balance of probability suggests that you won't end up witnessing something you'd rather not. Though upon reevaluation, it might be wise to increase the percentage of times you text before coming to see me."

"So you two are..." John glanced between the two of them. "I mean, she's your..." He tried again and cleared his throat. "She's your girlfriend?"

"Well, I'm a woman, not a girl... but I suppose I am a friend." Natasha didn't bother hiding her amusement. "Friend is as good a label as any, right?"

"If you need a label then sure…friend is fine." Sherlock, on the other hand, wasn't enjoying this conversation.

"Right." John said again, glancing between them again. He leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. "Yeah, this is just weird."

"It's also something I'd rather not…be made public." Sherlock said, focusing back on John. "Which means no blogging about it."

"Same goes for me," Natasha agreed. "It's not just a preference. I'm still supposed to be off the grid."

"I wouldn't even know what to write," John told the both of them. "I barely understand what this is myself."

"This is…" Sherlock glanced over at Natasha, "…something new." He concluded, with the briefest smile. Natasha winked at Sherlock and straightened in her seat.

Their waitress came back with their food a moment later. Once she was gone, John replied. "Well then…I suppose I should thank you, Natasha." He nodded Sherlock's direction. "For putting up with and getting this one out alive."

"It was no problem at all," Natasha assured him with a tip of her head in Sherlock's direction while picking up her chopsticks. "This one happens to be good company."

"Not all of the time," John joked.

Sherlock's chopsticks paused halfway to his mouth. "I am well aware of that'." He said indignantly.

John smiled. "Should we be expecting you two over for dinner sometime? Or anything completely 'normal' like that?"

"I can do 'normal' if the occasion calls for it." Natasha popped a bite of food into her mouth. "If I'm in London, I'm on board." She glanced at Sherlock. "Up to you."

John glanced at him as well. "You two should come over for dinner at least once," he continued. "Mary won't believe me otherwise."

"Dinner's fine, I can do 'normal' if necessary." Sherlock said after a moment of contemplation. "Besides, Mary will probably like Natasha."

Natasha reached out to pick up a dumpling. "From what I hear, I think I'll like Mary too."