It was one of those days that Xavia wanted to stay in the greenhouse. She had finally gotten her very first building finished after what seemed like forever. The cozy little greenhouse was nestled up against a tiny, yellow house. She had made that into an office and converted the upstairs to an apartment and was planning on finding someone who would live there and take care of the plants in her absence.

The greenhouse structure itself wasn’t huge, though it was on a fifty acre plot, she planned on starting a vineyard off to one end, and an apple orchard off to another. Not right away of course… The building was made of plate glass and roughly fifty yards long by twenty yards wide, and one and a half stories tall.

She was currently on her knees next to one of the empty plant boxes, singing to herself as she arranged rose bushes lovingly into her family blend of dirt. The bushes were just singular branches at the moment, bereft of both blossoms and leaves. The Hungarian was clad in second hand jeans and a stained up designer shirt that had definitely seen better days… Her freshly bleached locks were swept up into a messy bun, curling riotously as she had not bothered with the flat iron. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead: she had been planting bulbs and bushes for the better part of eight hours because she didn’t have any employees in this particular establishment as of yet.

The tune on her lips was directed at the rose bushes, but the ferns that were in the terracotta pots nearby seemed to lean toward her as if she was the sun itself. She rocked back on her heels, grabbing for the water hose so she could water the plants she had just transferred, turning the little knob on the spray head and talking as she did that, “There you are, lovelies. This should help you to grow beautiful soon.”

Anyone who was going to come into the place would be able to notice that the door was left slightly ajar, and there was a Harley parked near said portal, indicating her presence. Her voice, although quiet, would carry through the structure enough that one could almost make out her strange conversation. To the outside world it may seem like she was mad, speaking to her self.

The roar of the engine was the first indication of the sound queen rumbling up the road. Her Ducati Super Bike was not a quiet stealth machine to be sure. The lime green machine pulled up to the front of the greenhouse and cut off. As she pulled her helmet off, she let out her long blonde hair. Michelle was in a different suit that she normally wore while riding her motorcycle. This time she wore a moderately form fitting black v-neck blouse, grey suit with black lines crossing at even spacing all over the jacket, six bronze buttons, and a brown leather collar at the back, Grey Slacks, and black business heels. grabbing her over the shoulder brown purse from below her seat, she dusted off herself and walked up the the greenhouse. Even from the driveway, she could hear conversing going on inside. Her hearing only 10% blocked by the sounds in her ears. Wide awake by Katy Perry covered by Peter Hollens was a nice moderate tempo'd song to keep her heart going at a normal level. Her ear piece wasn't her normal ear buds, but a refitted hear aid that worked as a wireless headphone for her iPod.

She had just been driving back from a Campus tour of a possible college, Plattsburg State university of New York State. The six hour drive was enough to make her want to stretch her legs every so often. She came a mile of the interstate because one of the students at the college recommended she stop by the place to get some flowers. It was her Mother's birthday, and, while she couldn't send them to her, she always got a nice bouquet to present to her over the webcam.

As she approached, her eyes caught sight of the Harley sitting there. It took her mind completely away from the flowers, and the sign of a true biker who liked a machine manifested itself. She started to walk around it. She admired the size of the engine, the Easy ride flow of the tank, seat and bars, the large back wheel, and just how well it was kept.

The bike was cherry red, and barely dirty. Xavia loved the Harley beyond words, that much was clear. A loving hand kept the paint job gleaming, the chrome pristine, the leather polished. This bike looked almost mint condition. The only indication that it had been ridden at all would be the dirt caked into the tires and the few specks of road dust that dirtied the rims.

Xavia didn’t really pay much attention to whoever was outside, she had so much work to do. She turned the hose off and straightened her form. The hose dropped and she moved over to haul the pots of ferns strategically into the spaces surrounding each rose bush, sweat beginning to pour by that point.

Her cell rang, she finished placing the pot she had been holding, wiped her hands on her jeans and then grabbed for the phone. “Hello?” *pause* “No, I won’t be singing tonight. I need a break, okay?” The woman had an Eastern European accent, her voice was an alto and slightly raspy. The perfect tones for blues, jazz, and rock. “The club can do without me for a few days, alright? I haven’t had time to myself in weeks. I even gave you notice I was doing this today, so please respect that.” *pause* She rolled her eyes and moved toward the door, “Thank you, I will see you in a few days okay? Okay, bye.” She pressed the off button and shut the phone down, then dropped it into her pocket. “Ass,” she muttered and stalked outside.

It was then that she saw the other blonde admiring her bike, and she moved her way over and cleared her throat, “She is beautiful, isn’t she?” She moved to flank the side opposite of the woman and traced the gas tank with a long, tapered, and well manicured finger. She hardly looked like a biker. She looked more like a pampered, rich princess.

Michelle had heard the conversation and had to agree with her. the guy was an arse, but she wouldn't let that slip from her. Even enhanced sense was enought to build up anti-mutant resentment sometimes. As the woman grazed her fingers over the machine, the English Rose Nodded thoughtfully. "A right beaut she is. Almost makes me want to trade in my Ducati." Her head motioned to the machine parked out front. She walked around the the front of the bike giving the last look at the front end to take in everything.

Then it clicked into her head. flowers, that was what she was here for. turning to the woman, she noticed some soil on her outfit and the sweat on her form. "Apologies. I hope I didn't get my drool on your machine. Are you the proprieter of the greenhouse?"

“I am. And I am sorry as well. I heard you come up the drive, but I had my hands full. I am Xavia, and this is my little corner of the world.” She chuckled and glanced over to the other bike, “Lovely bike.” That was said genuinely, though she didn’t fancy it in the same manner she fancied her own. Personal preference of course. “How may I help you?”

There wasn’t much to be had yet, though there were some blooms that had been transferred from the base in Michigan. Those were all placed throughout the greenhouse, some could be seen through the glass. If the woman looked in, the ones closest to Xavia bent toward the glass like metal to a magnet. The grass at her feet seemed a brighter green, even while the remnants of winter kept the rest a dormant brown.

She didn’t pay attention, herself, as she pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed at her glistening and flushed face. Her jeans were kind of muddy and damp at the knees, and a streak of dirt crossed the bridge of her nose.

Michelle noticed a bit of the bend but really didn't look too much into it. This was a greenhouse so it was only natural that plants would be a bit better at different parts of the shop. She soon walked over to the gardener and smiled. "Yes I was wondering if you had any daffofils? They are a present for my mum. It's her birthday today." The English dialect was ever present.

A cursory look into the green house made it seem like she was just starting up. A few flowers growing, but the house wasn't in full bloom. She had hoped she could get some from an authentic green house like her mother had and not those little corner flower shops in New York City. With it being the fifth year without her, she wanted to do something extra for this birthday. Maybe she could save up enough money to get over there to visit during the summer.

“I do have some of those, as well as tulips and a few other spring blooms. Come inside.” She smiled brightly and then headed toward the door again, the flowers shifted with her until she was far enough away that she had no affect on them. She went to the front corner where the majority of the blooms were all held. She knelt down and pulled some of the pots closer, bright yellow blossoms, white blossoms with fiery orange trumpets in the center, summer cheers that resembled yellow roses… A myriad of different blooms, really… If the woman followed, Xavia would gesture toward each type and name them off… “Some of these are traditional blooms, and then you have your non traditional, like the Summer Cheer…” She gestured toward that rose looking daffodil.

“And I offer hand made planters and vases, made by local artists.” The smell of spring was rampant within the structure, earth, moss, water, etc. Though it was obviously new, it looked as if she had been set up long enough to have gained customers if she had recommendations already. “I support the locals,” she went on to explain, “The only imports come from my father’s greenhouse in Michigan. The rest come from the greenhouse I fund in a local school, such as the tomatoes in the back… But anyway, I can offer these lovelies as they are and you can plant them, or I can cut and arrange a bouquet.”

Michelle followed and listened in on each name and description of the flowers. they were all lovely. It took a few flowers before she actually noticed the slight turn towards her as they walked by. As she looked over the many varieties, she nodded and took in the scent. there really was nothing like the greenhouse. "My mum is over in England and these are for her via webcam. I plant them in the garden so I can bring some buds over when I finally get to visit her. So which ever would be best for a newbie gardener like myself." She was a little nervous at the moment. She absolutely hated being indecisive but she really didn't know mulch from smoking chips.

then something popped into her mind. She still had hours to go on the motorcycle. Highway speeds would rip them up and a bouquet in the cargo space under her seat would wither within minutes. Looking around she had a though. "You wouldn't happen to have a crate or box I could buy from you for stoarge and prtoection on the way home?"

“Most certainly. What I can do for you, since you are just starting out, is show you how to plant a bulb, and then how to care for your plants, as well.” Xavia straightened her form and moved to a box of unplanted bulbs, and then grabbed an ornate planter. She set those down on a nearby table before grabbing a half empty bag of soil, and finally, some river rocks. “When you go to plant in a pot like this, the first thing you want to look at is the size. For bulbs, even a single bulb, you want a larger pot like this to prevent root binding. The pot must have a hole or more in the bottom to allow for proper drainage.” Supple fingers gently grabbed for some of the river rocks, large enough to fit in the pot without falling through the hole in the center. “River rocks help with drainage also, perhaps one or two layers…” She arranged the rocks, and reached for the bag of soil. “Then you fill the pot with soil like so, but not all the way to the top.” She went on to demonstrate the rest of the process, digging a hole in the center of the pot and displacing some of the soil, putting the bulb into the hole root side down, filling in the hole with more soil and not packing it too much, then taking a watering can and watering the freshly planted bulb. Easy peasy. “You want to water your flowers once a day, I recommend doing it closer to evening when your plant is sprouted because it can help keep the leaves and blooms from scorching in the sun.”

She took a breath then, “What I can also do for you is give you a bulb free of charge that you can send to your mother. You pick out the daffodil you think she will like the most and I will get the bulb… And I will get you the flowers already in bloom and charge you only for the pot or vase. I wouldn’t do this for everyone because I wouldn’t be in business.” She had her motives of course, one of which was to try and get regular customers, another was to try and find someone who wanted to live in the apartment. Of course, she wasn’t going to outright say it, but that is what she wanted. And she wanted to do something special at random… For someone who wasn’t asking, for someone who didn’t recognize her as Layla. She wanted to be Xavia, damn it. Things in her singing career were wonderful, but she wasn’t doing it for fame. And maybe she wanted a friend… Not a man friend, she was beginning to feel wary of the opposite sex. After all, she’d just been put through the wringer yet again. What was it with old men who obsessed over her? The “doctor”, or Beledodia..? She was so sick of letting her guard down and finding herself trapped in a bad situation.

And just as she was about to speak again, the business phone rang. “Excuse me a moment…” She went to the counter where the cash register was and answered.

Listening was all she did. That and watching. She made mental notes at how she was handling everything. The order she was taking it. then came the surprise of the random nicity. Before she could interject about the free stuff, they were interrupted by the phone call. Michelle stood there looking at the various daffodils, a thought came into her mind. Was there some other reason she was being nice to her? She did seem slightly frustrated with the guy on the other end of her cell. Seemed to be a club owner and she was apparently a singer. Perhaps the plants in the green house enjoyed her singing, thus the better growing. She would have to take that into account when she got home. You Belong with me by Taylor Swift playing on her ear piece as she strolled casually through the green house. This wouldn't be a bad area to live in, especially if it could house a greenhouse as large as this one.