"What have you been doing to your therapist?" Natasha asks, her tone amused enough to make it clear that she's not really expecting an answer. Or even a real answer. Though she does appreciate the mental image of what a therapist's 'go fuck yourself' stare must look like. There's a pause after he perks up before she responds. She's not one to stomp on anyone else's fun. But sometimes she just has to ask. "I'm all yours tonight. What was that with the bottle, though?" she asks curiously. Sticking her tongue out, she points at the neck of the bottle. "Do you want a straw?"

His question about the sliding scale of weird in her social life is worth consideration, and she takes a thoughtful sip of her own soda as she mulls it over. "I made Thor come to an antique store with me once because it's funny to watch him react to Midgardian inventions. He broke about $500 worth of china by accident. Other than that, it's pretty normal shenanigans, you know? Drinking, house parties, karaoke. Movie nights are a big favorite. When your work day sometimes includes 'retrieve stolen alien tech from man with intergalactic squid attached to his chest' you just want a beer and a pool table in a shitty bar."