If her room had been on the first floor, Brennan would have no problem with slipping in through the window. But he was not exactly going to brave climbing to the second storey of the building from the outside while hopefully picking the correct room. Instead, he went about finding his friend's room the safe and sane way, by asking the workers about a woman staying here who was about yay tall and reeked. Unsurprisingly, that description netted him only one occupant, and he was quickly set in the right direction. He told them he was her husband, which put a stop to any sort of questioning and reluctance on their part. Brennan worried at his lip as he ascended the stairs, wondering what Imp would think of what he had become.
He did not yet realize that perhaps she would have the same concerns, because he was not the only one that had changed since they last met. Her room was just ahead and he opened the door without concern for her privacy. They had known each other so long that privacy and personal space was non-existent between them. Although three years had passed since he last saw her, he easily fell back into old, uncontested habits. That was why he did not so much as blink when he found her at her bath.
Brennan did remember to close the door behind him. "Imp..." He started uncertainly, his back pressed against the door. Instead of continuing, he shook his head - the slightly too long curls flopping this way and that way - and closed the distance between them. He settled on a low stool, his long legs comically sticking out before him. "I am glad to see that you took my words to heart." He made a slight show of sniffing the air, although the charred stench still held on stubbornly to the room.