Stark's suggestion was enough to stop the unflappable Fury in his tracks- for a half second, anyway, so he could quirk an eyebrow before he was striding purposefully forward again and dismissing the guards who approached them at the front doors to HQ. "Fuck you," he said and yanked his phone out of Tony's hand.
Outside the front doors two Iron Mans simultaneously turned their heads to give Fury and Stark an unsettling blank stare before their heads snapped back into a forward facing position. He didn't seem particularly perturbed by the armors up in the sky or standing near street corners as they began walking down the sidewalk with Nick in the lead.
"We're going to Big Jim's," he informed Stark. Lucky for them it was only six, maybe seven blocks away. "Owner told me they'd be replaying the Hogan fight, and Roland's cooking today," Nick shot Tony a knowing smirk because, as they both well knew, Ronald made the best god damn two-dollar steak in the city- maybe in the whole USA. Fuck that Momofuku shit.
Before Tony could make any remark on this choice of restaurant, Nick's phone buzzed and he held up a finger to Tony- hang on- and answered. What transpired was a five minute one-sided yelling match peppered with colorful language that made other people on the sidewalk give the pair a wide berth.
By the time his phone call was over they'd reached their destination, a run down building where an angry muscle-bound bruiser guarded the door below a cracked marquee that spelled out the full name of the establishment. "Big Jim's Boobie Bungalow" (three X's below the name, just in case) with the greatest cheap steaks in America was not, as it turned out, a restaurant. They would be having their lunch in a strip club.