That was the best answer Cassie was going to get, and sound advice, too, from the expert, so Tony's reponse was to point an approving finger in Steve's direction for Cassie to soak up his words. Not that it got Steve out of the doghouse. Tony twirled his finger in the air then to round them up to get on the road, and instructed, "You ride in the back, buddy," with a noticeable wicked enthusiasm. It was only fair, really, being Cassie's gift and with Tony driving, but Tony would take his hits where he could land them.
Grabbing the bow from the windshield as he slid into the driver's seat, Tony dragged the massive curls of ribbon into the car with him and deposited them unceremoniously over his shoulder onto Steve's lap. "Everybody comfy?" he asked, but didn't wait for answers before he was revving the engine, then instructing, "Seat belts." He probably didn't make for the best example of a safe driver, but if they were going to get out to Long Island then back into the city for lunch he had to prioritize. They made their dangerously fast, winding way down the ramp that led from Tony's garage under the city to spit them out onto the street three blocks away with the intermittent fluorescent lights that lined the dark tube pulsing as they flew by. "You're not allowed to do this until Pepper's tied up and I really need an espresso, got it?" he said as they advanced on the point of light that was the city surface before he pressed an unfamiliar button on the console. A pleasantly warm woman's voice announced evenly in a vague but comforting accent, Cloaking mode, ready. Just in case Tony ever had to use the car, really. Standard package.