“It occurr t' me dat I nevah snuck t'rough your bedroom window." She looks him in the eye over the rim of what is definitely an oversized coffee mug. "Dat evah boddah you?"
"My window's on the fifth floor, so I think I'd be more concerned if you did." He raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting between her and the window. It hadn’t occurred to him to worry about how Beth had come to be in his kitchen drinking coffee, but now that it had, there was a certain amount of unease ticking through him. Silly man-- he'd just assumed she'd used a key and come through the door like a normal person, but now he had cause to doubt it.
He'd chosen the place primarily for its roof access. Navigating the iron suit through a window wasn’t impossible but it wasn’t fun either, especially if he forgot to leave one open. And, well-- maybe he'd chosen it a little because Clint preferred the higher spaces too, but that was irrelevant post-Civil War. It was possible there was a gap in his life of people climbing the fire balconies to get in his window that Beth had just filled-- except those ended on the second floor.
"You didn't, did you?" A worried frown was starting between his brows. He might risk life and limb in his job, with the Avengers, and even in his hobbies--the man had an adrenaline problem that went largely unacknowledged given the more flashy company he kept--but Rhodey cared a lot about doing all those things safely, or as safely as possible. He’d hate to think she risked breaking her neck just to get inside.
