Unlike Mystique, Tony hadn't been trying so much to pin her as keep her still long enough to get that shot to her teeth, but he hesitated. With one hand pressing her arm into the biting groove of the tile and the other raised in a clenched fist, a knee grinding against her hipbone and digging into her belly, he exhaled, released his fist then squeezed it tight again, gritting his teeth in frustration. She should have known damn well not to come here at all if she didn't want to fight, or to cut his throat before he knew she was here to save them both the trouble. Tony was having a hard time buying that she was really that stupid.
As long as she was giving him the chance, though, there was no sense carrying out this conversation on the floor. The pressure on her stomach lessened only for Tony to grab her by the neck to haul her to her feet, reaching for the counter for leverage and knowing that he could squeeze therapeutically hard before she was actually in any danger. One little twitch from her, though, and Mystique's face was going through that mirror.