Nothing to piss her off, no. If anything, she's mad at the universe in general, because he's just so small in person, and that's not a trick of the communications devices, that voice is young. It certainly doesn't help that she's five foot seven without the comfortable stacked heel on her boots.

"It's fine, it's-- it's not messy. You're working. It's... productive clutter."

Her mind is a noisy and shocked and hurt and angry place to be, and fuck it, she's just going to ask. So, with no run-up whatsoever: "Peter. How old are you?"