Looked like Peter had faded somewhat while she was away. She sipped her coffee, mulling that over slowly. Somethings, well, you just didn't heal too fast over, even if it happened when you were being someone else.
"A good and very, very friendly tailor," she snickered and wiggled her eyebrows. "Well, it's not like that little number leaves much to the imagination, you know." She looked faintly grossed out and concerned about this goo as he expanded on it. "Peter, tell me you don't have it still, or if you do, it's contained by something more sturdier and safer than a shoebox under your bed."