Tony wracked his brains, trying to remember if she had told him that she was coming back today. It also wasn’t beyond her, in his opinion, to just show up without announcing any imminent arrival, especially if she figured that way she could catch him in the act of failing at self-care. Which, to be fair, he did a lot. “I know who Bucky is,” he said, with a little scowl. “He’s kind of hard to miss.” Although the government had done a pretty good job of that for a while, he supposed. But he was smarter than the government. His pout deepened. “Hey, my emotional maturity is at least at a seven-year-old level, thank you,” he said. He nodded. “Yeah,” he said, with a little shrug. “He didn’t really have anywhere else to go. I have plenty of room. The whole building is mine, so.” He shrugged again. “Most of it is living quarters for people who may need a free place.”
Pepper’s brows furrowed when he scowled at her. That was unusual for the most part. Sometimes, every now and then Pepper would say something just harsh enough to pull a similar reaction from the man, but this seemed unjustified. “Good to hear you still have your memory.” She replied flatly, brows raising as she spoke the words. “That doesn’t exactly explain what he’s doing here, but it’s your building. Your name’s on the side of it.” Pepper didn’t bother asking anymore questions. She only pried where his health or safety were concerned; Bucky moving in didn’t necessarily effect either of those but it still made her wonder what she had missed. “Oh I’m sorry: You haven’t emotionally matured in forty-three years. I don’t think you’re starting now.” Pepper nodded as if she was speaking to a child, a small smile creeping up her features. “It is yours.” Walking towards Tony, her heels clicked against the laminate floors, only stopping once she did. “Now, did you have breakfast this morning or lunch for that matter?”