Natasha was dressed head to toe in black - black ankle boots, black leather pants, a maybe slightly less black and more dark green-grey tank top, and a black leather jacket she found here and absolutely adored because of how buttery it was - if anyone would have guessed, she was definitely not necessarily up to good on the rooftop. It wasn't that she had bad motives here, but she was going to Jessica first. Jessica Jones. The strong woman. Natasha knew who she was because, well, she was Natasha Romanoff and she was damn good at her job - but it was a good thing right now, because it gave her trust in Jessica. Trust she didn't have and likely wouldn't have with anyone else here. Right now she just wanted this all to work out and nothing had really gone as planned so far. Nothing. Being here - still reeling from having to fight some of her best friends... Being here - still bearing the crushing weight of what that fight had done to the closest thing she had to family... Being here - knowing there was a war on the brink... Being here - and now? Now she knew what Thanos did.
That knowledge came with one perk. It also meant she now knew exactly who Rocket Raccoon was. He was a 'Guardian of the Galaxy' - if she hadn't been an Avenger she probably would have made fun of them for calling themselves that. But as it was, she didn't really have room for talk there. Either way, this wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation. She knew too much and she had no one else to tell, so there was that. And even this super spy could admit it was good to have someone to talk to.
And this? It was sort of critical.
It was easy for Natasha to make her way up and onto the roof. It was even easier for her to spot Jessica's familiar figure - and it looked like she'd even splurged on the good stuff. Which was probably good, because she was probably going to need it. Neither of the two of them were shy about pain or dealing with hardship, but it was a hell of a thing to have to walk up to someone and tell them about... well what she had to tell her about. "You splurged," She noted with a smirk as she approached the darker haired woman, "I'm going to owe you for that." The tone was as joking as she could manage right now - because for all of Natasha's experience, this was going to be a hell of a conversation.