There's an exchange happening, here, between each smile and word. Natasha's as acutely aware of it as she is her surroundings and whatever else is outside the compound walls. He walks backward, facing her, away from the building, and Natasha rolls her eyes goodnaturedly. At least this part is what it is.

"You didn't strike me as being lazy," she says, though 'lazy' sounds a little like something else. "Or very imaginative." If he's going for making it up to her.

Circumstances — i.e., the belt-buckle, the cat-suit, her gear — make her a little more transparent than she'd like to be, right now. But life isn't about liking things. "At least tell a girl what to wear."