Keeping a grip on the back of Quicksilver's shirt, partly to keep him upright but mostly to keep him from bolting, Iron Man left the poor woman to her burnt out kettle and hours of wasted time to make up for. That pillow wasn't going t embroider itself.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. is international," he corrected, rather than replying to Wisdom's question. No, this was just a buddy he'd made while waiting, Iron Man had let Quicksilver get away and wasted all of your time. Jesus. "But you're being treated to some very special, uncalled for inter-agency cooperation. He doesn't represent S.H.I.E.L.D., so, for future reference, direct elsewhere and any lawsuits that should spawn from interacting with him." He left Quicksilver with a final, supportive pat on the shoulder, like he was going to really need as he was handed off to Wisdom.