Parts of her weren't bionic, but she liked to think she understood the difficulties. There was a lot of dissonance between what he'd been trained to use his bionic arm for and what he was actually using it for now as that programming was breaking down, sloughing off. Normal, everyday life wasn't really something he trained for - it wasn't anything anyone could really train for, it simply had to be lived. "I wish there were the technical capabilities to sort of upgrade as you progress - but there's no tech team here like there was with SHIELD. Still. We'll keep an eye on it, and you just don't overthink it too much. It'll come naturally, and you'll pick up a mug without shattering it. At least you didn't break this door off the hinges," Natasha said, sauntering further in, her stance casual - a hand on her hip - as she watched James move the coffee table. Clearing a space for a wrestling ring, perhaps? She lifted an eyebrow curiously.
A lot of moving could be taken a few ways. "Interpretive dance?" she suggested, but she was clearly teasing - in her oftentimes deadpanned, whiskey-warm tone. Three scoops of ice cream with sex on top. Sometimes it was hard to tell when she was teasing, though she had a sense of humor - occasionally. When it suited her.