Peggy didn't pull her punches. She'd never tried and she wasn't starting now, not even with how personal this had gotten. Fine, she usually reserved that tone of voice for business, for wrangling surly, terrified teens or keeping alcoholic mentors in line, but needs must. She knew Steve well enough to think it unlikely he'd run, but there was enough margin of error to suspect he might decide to pile on the aberrant behavior to save them both further embarrassment.
Too late, she thought. They were going to do this for her peace of mind and to make sure he stopped stewing about it. Left unchecked, Steve could brood like no one Peggy had ever met before. It probably had something to do with how personal he took everything, like he needed to assume responsibility for the world at large.
Eyeing the ice bucket, as of yet untouched (and a truly ghastly faux leopard print spangled with a liberal number of rhinestones), Peggy decided it would do for a makeshift vase. The flowers went into it with care, and she spared a look around to where Steve was hugging a wall as he spoke up. Maybe she was checking to see if the door was locked as well. Maybe not. Peggy didn't have to admit to anything right now. "Me? No. Apparently I got lucky in that respect," she answered, wryly. "Whatever you consumed must've been before you found me." They'd shared a plate after, and she'd come away entirely unscathed. It was something of a relief, all things considered. If they'd both ended up like Steve...
Clearing her throat, Peggy took a seat in one of the chairs near to the window. There were two and a little bistro table, empty save for the ubiquitous water glasses most hotel rooms came with. "You mentioned last night... you'd spent time with a few other people. Did you..." She paused, weighing her words. "You don't remember having any trouble with them, do you?"