"Because," Tony said, talking around his food, which gave him a more petulant air than he was really aiming for - so he paused a moment, swallowed, and washed it down with a little more of his drink before staring at the reddish-orange mess in the glass between his hands. "Because I was poking my nose around her back yard asking questions about a bunch of sensitive shit." He looked up at Jarvis - and, yes, that was more or less precisely the face he'd been expecting from him, good to know his guesses were good for something - with an expression that was half stubbornness, half cajoling. "It's the kind of thing that could come back on someone. If it did - she needed to know. You can't protect yourself if you don't know what's going on." He drank without breaking eye contact, feeling moderately better as he sucked down a little more sugar-water. "It seemed like the right thing to do."
He had also expected it to end differently, of course. How was difficult to say; it wasn't that he'd thought she'd be grateful, or impressed, but ... well, that would have been nice. He'd felt close to her; the thought that he might be responsible for something happening to her had seemed distressing; he'd wanted to share. He hadn't really thought about it beyond that. Nothing about her had said dangerous to him , not in that moment - and not now, really.
But that didn't mean it had been a good idea. "She won't say anything. But - she knows. What we're trying to do. - What I'm trying to do." Not about Jarvis, naturally; that was a secret he was used to keeping from everyone, even in times of near-perfect candor. Revealing him required effort, like forcing yourself to stare at the sun. "She had Rogers picked out for a co-conspirator in about two seconds flat, so that's great," he said, dry and perhaps still just slightly miffed. As though he couldn't have done this without Steve. "But ... yeah, she won't be coming to any meetings any time soon."