Peggy walked with Steve out of the cafe, her eyes darting about from side to side as she scanned the street. Her arm darted outward, dropping the still full cup of now lukewarm tea into the receptical. She would pay Steve back for it later.
Motorcycles didn't have cup holders and she knew the risk of riding on one while trying to manage a cup of tea was not on her list of things she felt she wanted to accomplish.
"I've managed worse," Peggy replied, though there was no malice. Honestly, she was amused at the thought. She would be alright. The part of her that shouted something about being a lady was counteracted by the bit that often took over. The rebellious snap she had that made her the person she was. And she knew she was more advanced than her time often allowed.