The drink was barely afforded a glance, more than it deserved, then Tony dropped his pen and lounged back in his own seat, mirroring her casual sprawl with all the sarcasm a man could sit with. His hands were folded over his stomach so they raised slowly and fell quickly with his sigh after her exclusively time-wasting question. Evidently, she was looking for any excuse to procrastinate, but Tony didn't have that luxury.
"Chinese," he said eventually, twisting his mouth to the side apologetically for this revelation, the brevity on the topic he suspected she appreciated. He wasn't going to indulge her with anything else, though, except her job; "When you get a minute," he started, not to disturb the peace she evidently found in his space, "someone needs to check the date of the MIT reunion thing and RSVP for me but just pencil it in in case we can switch it up for something less..." One hand twirled in the air before slapping back down onto the other, searching for a word but assuming that Cassie saw it the same moment Tony did instead of actually vocalizing it. 'Social' was probably apt.