It wasn't an impossible caveat, but Tony didn't particularly enjoy thinking about it. Still, he must have been, because he didn't seem to be paying too much attention while Raven spoke; instead, his attention was on ghosting his fingers up her arm and touching his nose to her shoulder where he could feel her warmth and smell the perfumed silk of her robe turned bitter around the edges with that constant threat of metal on her skin. He did laugh, though, a puff of air against her neck, at the 'conveniences', which got less funny and more intriguing as he thought about it. Even more than Steve, she was a walking relic, loaded with intimate knowledge of history, only she got to develop with the world they knew now and adapted far more intuitively.
He had assure her, "I'm not laughing," before he raised his head with a somber expression for the incredible seriousness of her goat farming aspirations. They were a bit more quaint than he was expecting, but, if he was being honest with himself, Tony didn't have the faintest idea what to expect. If he did, he would have seen the whole mutant shapeshifter thing before they hit production. That was probably what made her so...addictive.
An unreadable frown touched Tony's face, and he swallowed, trying to push it away before either of them thought too deeply about it, and prompted himself, "My fantasy." Hers was actually, in a more welcoming view than 'quaint', kind of easy. He could probably give her that. He'd like to give her that. But for the moment, it made anything he could have wanted seem so unnecessarily complex. "World peace," he finally went for, laughing at his own Miss America answer, but he really did owe it to the whole planet he was constantly in the position of completely fucking up. It was the least he could do.
And here he was just thinking he could take a few years off and raise goats. He didn't deserve that.