The thing is, Tony knows that look. He's been on the receiving end of that look more than once by now. Though that was years ago, half a decade ago, long enough to have forgotten just what it's like. He immediately finds himself wanting to retort, eager to kick sand in that face, which of course is exactly what Strange is expecting.

He bites down on the instinct and stares back, eyebrows raised in silent inquiry. Holds it. For a good half a minute.

"Oh, come on, it's a good question!" Tony throws up his hands, dissolving into petulant frustration. "I can't believe you're holding out on me here."