Maybe it was a bit of a bad habit to carry over into the workplace, but Tony was raised to be alluringly, fashionably late. One couldn't make a good entrance without a good audience. It didn't make for such a welcome entrance when a percentage of the audience was crushed, though. Still, a far larger percentage would join those if he didn't take the time he needed, and just a glance at the scene proved he wasn't the only hero in town working to contain the rampage. Despite none of them having quite the impact as Iron Man had.
"Right here, sweetcheeks," was his much delayed response to Fury as he darted by, just shy of the Director's bald head, leaving him in the warm wake of the jets. Clean, smooth and streamlined-- not the massive, single-framed detailed Hulkbuster still sitting in S.H.I.E.L.D HQ's basement that Tony was supposed to have been working on since the news of Bruce's escape. He really was a man for a remarkable entrance.
He regretted it, just a little, when his first sight of the Hulk was the great beast pushing through solid walls like they were so much sifting sand, straight towards Captain America. This was going to hurt.
Iron Man's impact was literal and physical; straight into the Hulk's chest, all power rerouted to continue the forward momentum he came in with, pushing back and up and out and away and into the building behind that was-- 0.6 seconds to full information retrieval-- that was helpfully fully evacuated.