Jesus, this place was medieval. A ride this long should have gotten them to the moon and back, not left them fidgeting awkwardly for only a couple dozen floors and forcing Tony to come up with an answer to 'how have you been?' that Wanda would buy. She never bought it, and she always asked it, like it gave her a thrill to turn him into a used car salesman. Not 'turn him into', though, not really. 'Used car' was the closest thing to what Tony was selling than anyone else had accused him of.
That celebratory chime of the elevator almost saved him, too, and Tony straightened expectantly only to be forced to stare at the unmoving doors and grind out, "Great. Busy." One of those was true. He smiled and waved Wanda ahead of him courteously when the doors finally relieved them of their prison and he kept on talking, "I had to move everything out to the campus and it's a bit of a commute but I think it's nice being out of the city." Most of that was true. "Don't say anything, I know," he grimaced, no idea why he even said 'nice'. It seemed normal. "Please stop me, let's talk about you." She didn't look tired to him, but he didn't really know this look; it wasn't the vixen in the red dress that he had first met or the girl in someone else's t-shirt that lazed around the Tower. They had skipped this part. This part was horrible.