Just how long is it going to be before she sets him on fire? She seems to have decided literal flames are the appropriate response to his presence, after all. Once he's extricated himself from several annoyed guests, Peter spends a moment staring at the TARDIS, his expression somewhere between anger and fear. He shouldn't have to put up with this shit from her, should march right back over there and reclaim the bar.

Wariness ultimately wins out over territoriality. "Bitch," mutters Peter as much to himself as to his attacker as he indignantly straightens his coat and turns to slink off in defeat.