Natasha's got her street clothes shoved in a duffle bag slung over her shoulder, and very little patience. She hasn't taken any time to think about cold shoulders, baseball, or Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day. She's still riding that post-fight adrenaline high, and if she loses it because of a delay caused by Carl, then Carl is going to be in a world of hurt.

"Somewhere close," she tells Thor as they spill out onto the street and she takes a quick look up and down the street. She's pretty sure-- yes. There. She nods her head at a tall narrow building on the corner, a sign over the door letting everyone on the street know that they have vacancies. Given the nature of the city, Natasha suspects that most of the rooms are permanent housing for people who don't like to cook and hate to clean. Still, they aren't all taken, and she's sure she and Thor won't be the first people who only want the bed and the privacy. "There."