Garrett liked Uber. It was a new thing to him since he had returned to the States. Simple, no cash transactions, GPS related. Simple. He really appreciated simple. His driver was a lady in her forties, it looked like, who spouted all about the different tourist attractions once Garrett said he was a tourist. Was he ever. She didn't bat an eye at the address he had put in for his destination, either. That was a good sign.

One, it had a link at all. It still stood. Two, she wasn't like 'F Muties!' or 'It's that place.' Three, he felt strangely giddy. It was probably how people felt at their class reunions in Normalville. Who would be there? Would they smack his face or kiss it? He chuckled a little to himself at the various faces he might see at the threshold. The thought of the word threshold brought one particular face to mind, a face which left him smiling in a more demure way. He still thought of her ivory locks, how they would be curtly moved out of her face by a formal hand. Of course, she was still married to Mr. Immortal, the lovable healer that no one could hate. Almost.

The car pulled to a stop and he unplugged his phone from the complementary charger that the driver provided. He knew they weren't supposed to take tips, so he forgot the twenty in his seat. When she tried to flag him , he just smiled and waved her off. She went, leaving him standing before the place where he had found his footing in the world. He suspected that cameras and eyes were on him. Garrett was okay with that. Summer was finally retreating, his old wardrobe of khaki shorts and snarky T shirts changed out to khaki pants and easy collars. Clothing wouldn't really be much of a change to the older eyes, considering that his blessing had never allowed so much as a single hair to grace his head. Still silky smooth, along with his scalp, he walked up to the front doors.

It took him a moment to stand there and caress the heavy wooden doors. They weren't the original ones, probably. They would be covered in the scars of various battles and 'accidents' as his kin were prone to. Once nostalgia had settled enough, he pushed the button, calling those who would greet him.

And hopefully, not slap his face.

It was an odd coincidence that another familiar face would find his way back to the place that quite possibly gave him his life. For Xavia, it was like finding an old friend again, and many friends within that friend... You know, like one of those nesting dolls. Either way, she was on her way out just as he was on his way... in.

Xavia opened the doors and nearly plowed into him because she wasn't looking until last second. Just as she would have made that contact, she jumped out of her skin, it felt like, and her heart began to hammer from the startle. "Oh! I am so sorry!! I did not mean to," she said with slight panting that often accompanied a sudden fright like that.

She did not seem to recognize him at first, and started to walk around him, the keys to her conventional mini van making their way to her hand from her purse. After several steps, the plant mutant shifted on her heel and looked at him with a canted head, "We met before, yes?" Her accent was still thick with Hungarian, and she still looked almost the same with a few minor changes like hair color (A deep red) and the type of clothing she wore (In this case, a simple, cotton dress of white with a cropped jean jacket). "I talk to you for green house, yes? Years ago."

She also seemed to smell the same. The natural scent of roses seemed to drift from her, and from several feet away, he might get the subtle smell and it may perhaps jog his memory, should he have forgotten her. Her tawny eyes crinkled some at the corners in good cheer as she regarded him with curiosity.

The door opened for him, though it wasn't at all the greeting he had expected. It wasn't a greeting at all, more a hurried exit interrupted by his own presence. He put his hands out to stop the girl before she ran into him but she seemed to catch herself just in the nick of time. Her eyes met his own and she seemed to circle him and size him up. Garrett could only grin and look back at her, the small sparks of recognition also glowing within his own tired memory. The faint smell of roses accompanied her query, thick with Eastern European of some sort. Garrett then recalled having several friends of the European persuasion back then.

His Romanian assistant, Madeleina? That seemed right. At the Clinic. The Russian girl that he kissed and almost killed? She went by Muse. Then this one. He could almost see the green house that she mentioned. Her eyes seemed familiar but he couldn't make the spark come any faster. I vaguely remember you, I'm sorry. The house, yes. The accent and the smell, yes. Your name and what we did or spoke of? No. But I've been in Mexico for a few years, so I hope I haven't offended you. Do you live here?"

She probably did, but one could never tell. Garrett certainly didn't, though he might try for a night or two of respite. It would be nice to look around and see what was going on at the old Mansion. He could always hope to run into old faces or friends. Hell, he'd settle for an enemy if it made more sense to him.

"Xavia..." She said, "Not offended... Erm... Gart'(Garth)? Garret?" See, she couldn't remember his name either. They had only talked a few times, so it's not like they were close or anything. "No, I have house in city. I come work here t'ough." She shifted the papers from the office into her handbag for later, and gave a kind smile in his direction. "Welcome home."

The plant mutant was torn between letting him get to what he came for and letting him be, not sure of his reaction at all. Was he annoyed that she nearly bowled into him? Was he disappointed that she wasn't someone else? It was hard to get a read on the man. "I hope you had lovely trip," she added, for lack of something better. It wasn't as if she knew the man well, right?