Iron Man was over the traffic again, snatches of conversations and loud music drifting out of open windows reaching him as he grazed roofs and dispelled clouds of exhaust. He was focused on the sound of that motorcycle, though, even as he rolled suddenly and disappeared amongst the incoming cars, the heat off the cooking asphalt warming his chest plate. This wasn't exactly what he had intended, but another push would get Quicksilver away from the highway and into the no man's land that sloped away from it.
He appeared again a few feet in front of his target, stones and dust flying away from his hand as his fingertips touched the ground and he swung around to face Quicksilver.