This isn't fair, were the instinctual words that rose onto his tongue, but he couldn't make an argument over it, not even to himself. It couldn't be anything except what it was, a sudden change that he couldn't have expected or prepared for, and so of course he had to go back. He couldn't very well announce he was staying here, not so suddenly.
But nor could he give a firm date of when he'd be back, and that made this harder than any tour of deployment, no matter they were still in the same country, working for the same organization. If anything, that made it harder to get back, knowing he'd be pulled back to his duty to the WCA, and her likewise in New York.
He'd thought he'd been frustrated with the life before he took off to Asgard. But right now, he was tempted to damn duty and just stay. He knew he wouldn't give into it, that they both knew this was going to happen and accepted that it would no matter if they hated it, but having the knowledge that things could be different if he threw off the leash tying him to the WCA didn't make him happy or easy about it.
But so long as they were here together, it was easier to pretend that he didn't have to, to keep things light and normal, without a word about their future - immediate or long-term. What could be said about it? How could they work things out when he was fairly sure SHIELD would frown on the relationship, when they had to watch the words they said to each other once they were on their opposite coasts?
All he could do was be, stay firmly in this moment and not borrow trouble from the future. It would come soon enough, sure as the turning of the worlds.
"Canst I say I hath ne'er thought thou'd be one to fuss over a stove so early in the morning, to cook eggs and more?" he said lightly, just a little teasing. But even with his firm desire to keep things here, he couldn't help but mention, "When we doth make breakfast for the team, I doth do the toast - Stark hath a machine to make eight slices at once. It doth have more lights and buttons than yon jet cockpit," he informed her with a grin.
With a shrug, he crunched on a slice of bacon. "Aye, that I canst well do. Unless 'tis Mom who doth ask, and then I doth need mine arm twisted." But for her, to show gratitude for breakfast, the weekend, and the week, he'd do it without protest and probably without breaking anything.