Natasha pulled herself easily onto the next level, scoffing a little at their petty security. She hadn't bothered to change out of her jeans or hoodie (because she was not doing that), and got a few stares, but no one was brave enough to look for long.
The lead box, if she was to understand right, should cloak the fact that she was stealing a highly dangerous, probably magical object. Steve had hoped that by assigning different jobs to all of them, they could avoid being recognized long enough to pass on going to 1930's jail.
One man tried to stop her. One.
Natasha turned the box over in her hand, sure not to let the MEB inside tumble to the floor, lest it send some poor Tom back to the Paleolithic ages.
Leaning against a wall, Natasha whistled a Russian tune, an old one she was sure Clint would recognize.
A hand popped out of an air vent, scaring a secretary to death but getting no reaction from Natasha.
She handed Clint the package, smiling innocently at the receptionist when she asked if she had seen that, what was that.
She could hear Clint's half-muffled sneezes as she made her way down the lobby to rendezvous with Tony.
Natasha took Tony's arm, escorting him towards the front door, smiling innocently at the doorman.
They were halfway out the door and joined by Bruce when a voice suddenly called out to them. Natasha froze, putting her dagger into the palm of her hand smoothly.