[He's honestly fairly tempted to keep the coat on, after how cold it was outside. But he shrugs out of his coat, hanging it on a hook on the wall, and even has the presence of conscience enough to wipe the snow off his boots before following after her. Kitchen snoop.

Besides, he may have been here before, but he's not entirely sure how cool the X-gang would be with him just flopping down on the couch/living room floor/whatever is most readily available. Better to keep stubbornly on.]

Well, chef... Don't s'pose you're gonna need a hand wit' any of this? Or is this goin' on my tab of t'ings you can lord over me later.