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"I'll get it," Tony said, pulling out his wallet. Generally he just had to wave it in the general direction of whatever needed paying for to acquire it, but still, it was a very nice wallet that Pepper had picked out for him and he liked to show it off.
"It's ok," Steve said, smiling as he waved off the power of Tony's credit card. "I have money."
Tony looked at the vintage-inspired, custom-built motorcycle Steve wanted, and then back up at Steve in his Tuesday shirt, self-ironed pants, and second-hand leather jacket.
"...How much money?" Tony asked delicately.
"...Lots of money," Steve said, blinking at Tony in surprise.
"How?" Tony asked. "I'll admit my whole sense of cost thing is a little skewed 'cause I'm me, but I didn't think you were the kind to drop however many thousand dollars on a brand-new bike without even breaking a sweat."
Steve smiled a little sadly and shook his head. "Tony, do you know how much an artist's worth goes up once he's dead? I'll tell you, it's not nearly as much as it is when he gets resurrected and his artistic sensibilities are considered 'untainted by modern standards.'"
Tony started to laugh. "You've been shameless fleecing the public? Didn't think Captain America had that in him."
"If someone wants to drop a hundred thousand dollars on a doodle I made on the back of a placemat, then I think the money's better off out of their hands and into mine so some real art can be bought." Steve handed over his debit card to the dealer and lovingly stroked the handlebars of the gleaming motorcycle.
"Wait, you mean that little scribble you made in the corner of my lab notes is worth 100k?"
"Easy," Steve said, signed the last of his paperwork, took back his card, and wheeled the bike outside. "You ought to see what the portrait I made of Natasha sleeping on the couch brought in."
Tony narrowed his eyes. "Your funeral. I bet it'd go up more if you were declared dead again, Rogers."
Steve laughed as the bike roared to life, and sped away on the wheels of his newest acquisition.