Clint and Natasha
This was...erring on the side of ridiculous, the way things were unfolding. It was supposed to be somewhat simple. Start on the top floor, work down, skip the third floor, leave the church and the hospital to someone like Thor or Logan. Every day, the hotel was the hotel - there was nothing out of the ordinary about it, and she zipped in and out on occasion to take care of things in her former room, but it figures that the day she and Clint decided to do a little deeper digging into the inner workings of the funhouse, the building itself would jolt alive.
She was prepared as best she could be. Catsuit, utility belt, sturdy boots, gloves, torch, pocketful o'salt and other weapons tucked away. Any spy worth that pocketful of salt would have noted the distinct sensation of being watched, it was a matter of training and observation - but the way it was happening now it very well felt like being clobbered over the head with a 2x4 that, no, they weren't alone.
Something darted off in the distance, a flash of...a person?
"Time to play cat and mouse, I suppose," she murmured in annoyance, fingers flexing in her gloves.