Christ. Tony knew that tone, and was far too intimately familiar with that phrase. Peter didn't even need to finish his thought, Tony could have done it for him. He managed to make it this far, which was more than he could say for the greater population of New York City, so what was it with people and that fucking question? Rolling his eyes and taking his sweet time lighting his cigarette, putting himself back together and settling back into his seat wasn't nearly enough to take the edge off and Tony still said, "Please," like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you gonna do your thing, or...?" he prompted, cigarette threatening to fall from his lips, twirling a finger for Pete to get on with his little experiment before Tony had to come up with an alternative. Of course he wasn't okay, they were keeping one of the brightest minds on the planet and one of his trusted allies as a feral pet. Before Peter could actually get on with it, though, Tony slapped his hand onto the table and thought to return, "Are you okay?"