Tony wasn't sure how much he could support Wicked's plan if he had to dress up as a mailman. That wasn't even a sexy Halloween costume option, ranked somewhere below plumber and garbage man. It might have been appropriately nonthreatening for Pietro, though, who Tony was pretty sure hadn't called him 'Mr. Stark' in three years and was usually the one to look hurt when he didn't get a hug. That girl was trouble. Tony watched them go with his mouth twisted in annoyance, then sighed at the empty hall of what used to be his own house without anyone to come running in and throw themselves at him in greeting. Maybe this was why Pepper liked that dog so much. At least the sensation was a familiar one.
Accepting his fate, he strolled into the kitchen, looking mostly how he had last left it with a few unfamiliar utensils left to contemplate life near the sink. He found the coffeepot cold and half full, and dumped it to brew a fresh cup to occupy himself. Behind him, he could practically feel the stairway down to the garage beckoning him, but it wasn't like he would find anything interesting down there to get his hands dirty. He wasn't even sure what the West Coast Avengers might be using the space for. Probably a ping pong table.