It took her speech for Tony to understand Jessica's halt, eyebrows raised and expectant of a Pepper-style pinched mouth and shake of her head (source code: Stop That It's Not Funny) or that thing where Wanda's eyes went wide and she bit her cheek (source code: unreadable), but Jess wasn't Pepper or Wanda, was she? He had already slung his hands in his pockets, prepared to casually shrug off her disappointment and instead squeezed his arms to his sides as she dictated and his grin spread. Right, he didn't want to hear it, it would be an absolute disaster if he wasn't consumed with curiosity for the next twelve hours over what she might have said before she stopped herself.
"I hear that a lot," he admitted, finally wandering closer and braving her delicate state. 'You can't say things like that' and variations thereof were a daily rite, really, that Tony couldn't make any promises about besides, 'but I will anyway.' "Headache?" he asked suddenly, as if he could see it now that he was close enough, one hand escaping to hold off Jess' answer, then drift along a delicate curve that could have been the mathematically precise wave of her shoulder. "You should try a massage," he offered. For a horrible second, he did actually mean it, and he froze with his hand still in the air in that uncharted territory of non-sexualized interaction before he found his way back with a suggestive wiggle of his fingers.