Sometimes Tony felt like he should know more about her other life -- but he didn't like pressing, didn't want to ask unless she volunteered. It was -- well, it was probably a touchy subject for everyone and the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel homesick. But if she was talking about it, he'd go with it absolutely. "At least you could pass it off as a punk aesthetic?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. She had drums. No matter how sound proofed the house was (very), there was no avoiding hearing jam sessions now and again. Not that Tony wanted to avoid that. "You could just do the raccoon thing. Seems to work well for some people."
He sipped his own coffee for a minute, passing over a lego or two -- they were making a pike for the darker ones, because obviously those were the windows. Stark. She'd given her last name as his and god, if that wasn't just ... well, he didn't had a word for it. Cute didn't quite fit. But it was close. Maybe something more fond? Sometimes when she just outed with stuff like that, his heart ached a little. "No," he said, "It's a great last name. I could see why you'd want it." That hadn't really been what he'd meant when he'd asked, but if that's what she was offering to tell him he wasn't complaining.
He wondered if Miles had been clever enough to lie about his name.