[ Tony wrings every drop out of those few seconds of increased distance that he can, doing a box-breath and counting things around the room and running through every other stupid trick he's learned to quickly calm anxiety short of that one where he sticks his head under a faucet. He wants to do that one, though. Maybe later. ]

Yeah, I heard from, uh. Your buddy.

[ Just say 'Steve', Tony. Look, if this situation gets any more awkward and uncomfortable Tony might actually literally scream, so...fuck you. Vague allusions it is.

After some rummaging he at last returns with the broom and dustpan, passing them along briskly before he flits over to the coffee machine to finish what he was fucking doing. Before Barnes came in and started acting all...Barnes. God, does Tony know anyone normal? ]

So you figured out your preference yet? Cream? Sugar? Black with a side of hard tack for old timey's sake?