"Since when do you need a reason?" he shot back, then clamped his mouth shut and shook his head. Clearly, this was someone who hadn't had the best of experiences with SHIELD in the past.
"Fine. Never mind. You sure about the coffee?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow himself. They were right here, and there was one of those custom coffee machines that made that sugary crack!coffee he loved to hate. He'd practically been addicted to the stuff back in the day. "Maybe I'll just have one to go, anyway," he finally said, dropping the money on the counter for whenever the guy finished calling the cops and punching the buttons for a mochaccino, extra cocoa and extra sugar. Or as he liked to call it, certain death by diabetic shock. Yum.