Tony reached out to shake Don's hand happily. "My robotic arm's got a middle finger with three separate points of articulation now." So, had he gotten anything done that had anything at all to do with Stark Industries' main task of weapons manufacturing? No, not really, but it had still been a busy day so far and Tony was perfectly happy with the way it was progressing.
He joined Don in the booth after unbuttoning his jacket. His appearance lacked its usual workday disheveled look --the sort that indicated he'd been locked away in his lab of secrets for most of the morning or hadn't deigned the world worthy his coming up from underneath a car engine-- and Ianto had found him a tie without engine oil smeared on it and a shirt that was pressed. The jacket had even been dry cleaned that week. Having a personal assistant wasn't nearly as bad as he'd thought it would be.
"And what about you? What corporate swill were you selling this morning?" He was joking of course, because his own corporate swill was what they'd once been selling. There was a subdivision of Stark Industries that made a damned good hunting rifle.