The sight of the silhouette of his hand meeting opposite the glass where her hand lay was... unexpected. She stared are the markedly larger shadow for a moment until the drummer's second threat registered. Going from a cold shower to taking actions that could set in motion her firing, or worse, was something of a leap. Boston had drastically upped the anti.<br/><br/>She was left to twist under the weight of that dark promise. Time seemed to crawl by, and for a moment, she considered caving to his request, the thought of even having to<em>talk</em>about sex with Walter proving enough motivation to endure whatever Boston had planned.<br/><br/>As quick as the threat was made, it was retracted, however. Maggie swiftly withdrew her hand as Boston's palm violently met the glass. Her breath came sharper, and she took a small step back. "I don't know what's wrong Boston. You're scaring me." She admitted, in tones more low and level then before. She eyes the contours of the bathroom, tongue sliding across her teeth in thought. "Look, I'll come in if you promise not to talk to Walter - or anyone at ImagiCorp about this for that matter, but my clothes stay on." She was firm on that last point. She'd be damned if she'd offer him up another opportunity to drag her pride under the wheels of the bus.