While he accepted the coffee graciously, Tony was slow to dismiss Cassie, letting her linger and maybe make the decision for him whether she should call Cap, just so everyone was informed. As weird as it was (Danny's hands shaking-- trauma: physical or emotional?-- withdrawal: active or conditional?-- anxiety: environmental, persistent, conditional?-- blood sugar: well, fuck, he looked homeless), though, Tony didn't anticipate this going badly, so eventually he caught Cassie's eye just to give her a tiny shake of his head to send her on her way. He only joined Danny on the couch when the door was closed, and didn't bother to hide his scrutiny over the rim of his coffee cup, or the fact that it took more of his concentration than anything Danny was actually saying.
Fuck, that body was a tragedy. The beard they could trim up, that was salvagable, but Danny had bounced back from cancer looking hot as hell and yet something had still ripped him to shreds. "Yeah, maybe," Tony dismissed, putting Danny's question aside quickly in favour of his own. He was asking questions, this was his office, him first. "I thought you went down in that alien thing, you know, your girls play it close to the chest. I mean, I've conquered Everest, and Colleen is like unscalable frosty peaks. Any tips?" he presented, and as light as that was he still held a steely, level gaze on Danny that was obviously more concerned with whether Danny had legitimately just clawed his way out of hell than Colleen's phone number.