Elsewhere~
Unmolested by a baking fiasco, the modest library in the penthouse was a quiet, cool, smoke-free oasis. As much as it could be an oasis without a drop of mana in sight, but Tony found that the easiest way to coax Steve into following him was to promise to leave his martini at the door. He'd drained the glass before being forced to give it up; no one liked to be wasteful, did they? Anyway, Tony had almost forgotten it by then, like he forgot the scorching heat outside, or that he really was supposed to be doing something. It had started with the insistence that Steve needed to help him perfect the planning for the carnival tomorrow, because everyone else had been staring at it for too long and he needed a fresh pair of eyes to spot the flaws in the finish. It was flimsy, but seemed to be convincing enough for the five minutes that Tony could even pretend to care, but when his attention began to wander there wasn't much to be done to rein it in again. So he wandered with it, from his office to the adjoining library, finding the books that had been left scattered on the tables that the Avengers (and other regular inhabitants) had been momentarily intrigued by and just as quickly abandoned. Notre Dame de Paris. The Scarlet Letter. Confessions of a Shopaholic. The testosterone level in this penthouse had been dramatically reversed in his absence, apparently. "That's not yours, is it?" he teased Steve, carelessly dropping Shopaholic back onto the table as he went.
What Steve did admit to was The Great Gatsby, which Tony was willing to indulge and was where they ended up by the time Wanda and Jessica were making their last, frantic scramble to save the Avengers kitchen. Tony lounged in a plush chair, sinking down into it like he might never come out, with Steve locked in front of him on the floor with his back to the chair Tony's knee hooked over his shoulder. Tony's leg bounced occasionally when he drifted out of the story to complain or laugh about something, but it didn't when he stopped only to become quiet, then sniff the air. Something was off. It struck him that he was supposed to be distracting Steve the moment his job was put at serious risk.