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"I want to walk, actually. 'That okay?"

"Sure. But like...why? I'm not in walking shoes."

"What-what else are shoes for?"

Tony turns to go back to the elevator, but Bruce grabs his elbow.

"Come on, let's go."

"But-"

"Shut up and walk."

They head out the side door, the scientist holding the door.

"Besides. You look great in those," he adds.

Nearly forty years of flirting under his belt, and he still was powerless to hide the telling blush that crept up his cheeks like Rosy-fingered fucking Dawn.

They walk around for about half an hour before Tony finally elects to say something.

"How much longer 'till we're there?"

Bruce shrugs.

"What?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"The hell is that supposed to mean? Do you not know where you're going??"

"Uh...let's go here."

Bruce points to a tiny restaurant on the corner across the street.

"How about there?"

Tony hides even more behind the furry trim of his enormous parka.

With his outrageous choice of outerwear, petite stature and the fact that he'd insisted on bringing one of Pepper's less-feminine purses with him, the scientist was certain people thought he and Tony were a heterosexual couple.

The petulant bundle of down feathers runs ahead of him, knees wobbling and plows into the door, not even bothering with the handle.

Bruce facepalms, and follows him inside to a booth, taking off his jacket and putting it down next to the wall.

"You okay?"

Tony nods, the gesture accompanied by the rustle of his coat.

He leans in.

"Y'know, it's customary to take your jacket off when you get inside," he teases.

"M'cold."

"Okay, well, you look ridiculous. The waiter is going to recognise you anyway, so you might as well.

Reluctantly, he slides out of his polyester shell, petting the fuzzy hood.

"Here."

Bruce awkwardly hands his heavy fur jacket over the table to a grateful Tony, shivering in his seat. The man blows hot air into his hands, and he's struck by how much smaller Tony seems without the coat. Maybe that's why he really wore it.

The waiter-a college student, with curly red hair and a white tattoo behind his jaw-approaches with a warm smile and professional courtesy, immediately recognising the smaller figure in the booth staring moodily at the menu he'd been handed. The guy looks at Tony briefly with an unreadable gaze, and pulls out a notepad.

"What can I get you to drink?"

"I'll take...I'll take a gin and tonic, and he'll have...?"

Bruce looks at Tony expectantly.

"Hey. Tony. Hello? I swear to god, I'm gonna order you an appletini...or maybe a cosmo..."

That threat was enough to get the guy out of his shell.