[She couldn't tell the difference in the man within the confines of the suit but Tony sat still, and there was no hiss of hydraulics under her ear to indicate he was taking in the rest of the room. It wasn't a usual hug: not the kind that was warm and yielding, but it was comfort and there were no speakers to translate or distort the small sigh, her head on the slide of armored shoulder.
She turned her head as he did, noticing the laptop once more. The months of control remained like an underline beneath everything else: the laptop hung mid-air because she hadn't dismissed it and as she looked at it, it rose several feet and moved with rapidity toward a back table and clicked shut.]
Learn to prioritize, Stark. [Answering smile: she thought of the lab downstairs, of music loud enough to deafen and the smell that had come to be familiar and reassuring: metal, motor-oil, heat.]
You can have me in the board-room or R & D but I'm not wearing a suit in your lab. [And her weight eased off red-and-gold-painted metal as she looked at him squarely and the voice was calm, warming through like chocolate.] It's a temporary situation. I can't evict a tenant in a crisis, and I need to take the things out of the ceiling downstairs before it stops giving me nightmares to look up. And no. Chinese food, there's some in the fridge. [A gesture toward his own kitchen: the concern was his own hunger.]