Luckily she's fluent in Tony Stark after all these years, interpreting him with ease. She knows he's nervous; but she also knows that deep down this isn't really about the eggs. She has to wonder if Tony himself realizes that, though.

"Sure," she says easily, polishing off the last of her scramble. Slipping out of her seat, she gets out the bag of grated cheese for him, coming to stand next to him. "Though in that case you might want to make this into an omelet. Otherwise the cheese melts all over the pan and makes a bit of a mess." Quirking a smile, she runs one hand down his back affectionately. "Or you can take that risk and deal with washing the pan after."