The only warning that Newt had received that he was going to get a visitor of alien nature was a hastily written email that had been dumped into his inbox that morning. Which of course he's been neglecting, because his brain is getting pretty overloaded and stretched thin these days. It's only when he's been hounded into eating something from Kit's text messages that he had a chance to actually check his emails, and almost spits all his coffee over his keyboard. They certainly weren't eating him back into the job slowly, huh? Not that he minded. He could handle it.

When Nihlus actually gets there, Newt looks up from an email he's writing to Kit to help her with one of the regulars at the clinic, and blinks at the creature that had just introduced itself. He'll never get over the excitement of seeing a brand new species with brand newt biology and brand new history and culture. Never. He's got a long list of alien races he's gotta master now.

Newt stands, waving Nihlus in with a tattooed arm, typing away with the other before punching enter on his computer and then giving the alien his full attention.

"Dude, call me Newt. All this 'Doctor' stuff makes me feel like I'm an old man," he says grinning, a million questions popping into his head all at once. It's hard not to just ask them all. "Cool translator! Where'd you get it? How does it work? What does your native tongue sound like?"

Oops. He tried.