She doesn't mind the notion-- if she goes on her own she's just going to be too horrified by the prices to get anything, and end up looking... well, like she just walked out of 1997, fashion-wise. Nordstrom might be overkill but she probably needs another pair of jeans if she can't wormhole home overnight.

If the clutter bothers her, she doesn't show it. (It does bother her, a little-- but not for its own sake; just that it's part of a pattern of how he's been living that worries her. She doesn't really care if he's taking care of his house; it only matters whether he's taking care of himself.

The room is... just a room. Nothing noteworthy, but she supposes that's unsurprising-- if there was anything of hers it would be gone by now, no doubt. She looks back at him when he speaks, and smiles-- honestly, openly, because she is terribly grateful to have him.

"Thanks," is all she says, because what else is there? In any circumstance, she'd trust him to give her a place to stay and whatever she needed. She'd do the same for him. It's a little weirder than usual, but at this point-- even that shouldn't be surprising.

She'll let him clear out before she changes, though-- for both of their sakes.

"Good night, Mulder."