This isn’t the first time Andy has approached the Mansion in the last few calendar weeks. Actually, by his count it’s the eighty-third, though it’s hard to know how to count the afternoon he spent camped out in an abandoned room across the street.

It is, admittedly, the first time he’s gotten as far as getting within fifty feet of it.

What do I say to them? Leaving aside that conversation isn’t really his greatest strength in general, he’s not even sure what he wants to say.

It had all seemed pretty simple when he first arrived… assemble a team, go into the Camps, get the good guys out. Except he’d completely failed at the “team” aspect – the mutants he made contact with just weren’t interested, or at least weren’t interested in working with him. Which, really, he can’t blame them. And even when he did get somebody interested, the whole thing was a fiasco… he and Naveed had been lucky to get out alive.

He’d pretty much sulked non-stop after that... and missed the real rescue while camping in upstate New York. Which he’d kicked himself over for a subjective week before finding the banned video of the dead guards, and deciding – after he’d cleaned himself up – that maybe it was for the best after all.

All of which has led up to him trying to ring the doorbell of the half-rebuilt Mansion, and not being able to. How can he look these people in the eye, knowing that they’d sat in that camp for weeks because he hadn’t been good enough to rescue them… knowing that he hadn’t even been involved when they were rescued… knowing that he didn’t even have the stomach to look at the aftermath, let alone participate?

He’d thought he could join them. He’d thought he could be a hero. Now he’s not sure if he can do either, and he’s not sure they’re the same thing.

He gets closer this time, at least. Just a few yards from the doorbell, before he loses his nerve and turns around.

Neena came around from the back of the Mansion. She wore a pair of cut-off jean shorts, a black Tshirt she'd cut the sleeves off of, some gardening gloves, and some really raggedy looking tennis shoes. Her toes threatened to push out of one shoe in a minute. A big bag of weeds and dirt sat atop her head, nearly obscuring her regular sight, while she dragged another behind her. She whistled idly as she walked unerringly toward the mountain of trash at the front of the estate.

She noticed a youth in the front yard that she didn't recognize. Old and new residents had been showing up in a constant flow, so his arrival wasn't completely out of place. He appeared to be twitching oddly though.

"Hi there!" she called out. "You okay, kiddo?" She momentarily forgot that most of her head was hidden under the garbage bag.

> "Hi there!"

It takes Andy a few subjective moments to convince himself that, yes, the woman with the bag of dirt on her head had called out to him. He looks her over carefully and convinces himself that yes, that really is a bag of dirt and not some particularly visible mutation.

The woman is, apparently, doing some gardening. Which is a good sign, he supposes… it means the Mansion really is being re-established as someplace people live. And she seems friendly enough.

> " You okay, kiddo?"

He can’t tell if she’s a mutant… if she is, it doesn’t show in any obvious way. But this is still the Mansion – same ownership, largely the same official residency. He’d checked. So it probably hasn’t been taken over by anti-mutant types. Which means that even if she happens to be a baseline human, she’s unlikely to freak out at the prospect of his being a mutant.

Though, really, there’s only one way to be sure. He screws up his determination and decides it’s time to actually do this.

In a blur too fast for the unaugmented eye to follow, he moves from his spot in the front yard to right next to the woman… then backs up a few feet as he realizes that might be a bit frightening… and offers her a piece of paper he’d prepared for just this sort of meeting. (Actually, he’d rewritten it approximately fifteen times, back in his hotel.)

It reads: “Hi. My name’s Andy. Some folks call me Speed. I’m a mutant. I wrote this down because I talk _really_ fast sometimes. Hard to understand. Word is this is a good place for mutants to be. Is it?”

As he hands it over he says, as slowly and intelligibly as he can: "Hi. I’m Andy."

<"He's fast,"> Neena thought as he disappeared, then reappeared beside her. Because she wasn't prepared, she couldn't completely keep up with his speed; she saw enough to know he wasn't teleporting, but that was it.

"Hi. I’m Andy."

<"Fast talker, too."> As she took the note, she wondered if speed was part of his mutation. It seemed he couldn't stop moving.

She held the paper up and read it through the bag, which muffled her voice.

“ 'Hi. My name’s Andy. Some folks call me Speed. I’m a mutant. I wrote this down because I talk _really_ fast sometimes. Hard to understand. Word is this is a good place for mutants to be. Is it?' It sure is." On the last word she heaved the bag off of her head with a grunt, and smiled at him.

"Nice to meetcha Andy. I'm Neena, one of the teachers here. Are you looking for a place to crash for a while?"

> " It sure is. Nice to meetcha Andy. I'm Neena, one of the teachers here. Are you looking for a place to crash for a while?"

Andy releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. This is the reaction he’d been hoping for in the first place, and he smiles back. "Hn’a" He winces in embarrassment at how unintelligible that must have been, and tries again more slowly: "Hi. Nee. Na." God, I must sound like a retarded teenager!

He tries to slow himself down, but the excitement is too much for him. So, OK. Plan B. He pulls out his ever-present notepad and scrawls: “I’m staying at a hotel now, which is fine. Though if you have space, sure, that’d be great! I’ve been looking for you guys forever.”

He hesitates over the rest of the message; the temptation to pour out his heart and soul, his dreams of joining the X-Men and doing something worthwhile with his special abilities, and his whole life story is enormous, but he’s been around this particular block enough times to know that “take it slow” is a piece of advice that applies to writing as well as speech.

He settles for adding: “Really, what I’m looking for is to join up.”

"Hn’a. Hi. Nee. Na."

She noted the clipped, hurried syllables, and wondered if he was unable to slow down much or if he was just excited.

She read the first part of his second note under her breath this time, then replied, "Well it's up to you, kiddo. We've got space, though its a bit cramped. We should be able to spread back out to the dorms in a week or so though."

She moved on to part two. "Join up? Oh! You mean join the Xmen?" She paused for a brief moment. Then, still smiling, she asked, "Why would you want to join the Xmen?"

She purposefully worded it that way. A lot of the kids and residents at the Mansion knew of the Xmen, and had grandiose dreams of joining them and becoming superheros. She was curious if he was among that crew, or if his view was a bit closer to real life.

> "Well it's up to you, kiddo. We've got space, though its a bit cramped. We should be able to spread back out to the dorms in a week or so though."

Something about Neena’s voice and body language makes her easy to talk to, Andy decides. She’s enthusiastic, but not in the least bit nervous – which, in the shadow of the recently destroyed Mansion talking to a stranger with mutant abilities, is a fairly unusual thing, when he thinks about it. He smiles fondly… it’s nice to be talking to someone who doesn’t seem scared.

He takes a few subjective minutes while he studies her to bring his heartbeat and breathing down, with mixed results. Still, every little bit counts. Carefully enunciating each word, he replies "I can wait. Use the space for those who need it." Fishing in a pocket he pulls out one of the hotel’s business cards, on the back of which he writes his name and room number, and hands it to Neena.

> "Join up? Oh! You mean join the Xmen? Why would you want to join the Xmen?"

"Wlljeezwhow’dn’t?" he starts out, and realizes he’s speeded up again. "Who… would… n’t?" He finds himself overwhelmed by all the things he wants to say and the knowledge that saying it would just take too long. So he settles for "They’re heroes!"

(( ooc: Andy scoffs at real life. ))

(OOC: Don't we all? ;D)

"I can wait. Use the space for those who need it."

Neena nodded. "No problem. I'll give ya a call when the rooms open up again. In the meantime, you're welcome to come back and help, anytime." She pocketed the card carefully.

"Wlljeezwhow’dn’t? Who… would… n’t?" She couldn't hold back a smile this time. The extra speedy speech indeed seemed excitement-induced.

"They’re heroes!"

Inwardly Neena sighed, though the smile remained in place. <"Yeah, reality check needed.">

Aloud she said, "Well, it's nice to hear someone really thinks that. I don't know if 'hero' is the right word though."

She paused for a moment. Then, "How old are ya, Andy? And is is there more to your mutation than speed?"