They're not the only ones bearing the marks of the afternoon's hard work. Thor has a dirty streak across his forehead where he'd wiped sweat away, and his arms are brown up to the elbows, though it clings more to his flesh arm than the metal one.

Mention of a meal gives him pause as he brushes the worst of the dirt from his knees. Thor is genuinely not sure when was the last time he looked in the pantry, and can't remember if there is anything fit to serve all of them. Harley has been doing more of the cooking lately, when it comes to actual meals and not just eating his way through a bag of chips or a box of snack cakes.

"We might have to stop by the grocery first."