*Usual Disclaimer. I have no rights to these characters, nor do I make any money on these musings. Read and enjoy, thanks so far to those that have followed along. Extra note. I do not mean any copyright infringement with mentioning some electronic toys and a video game.*

~Afternoon~

"There's where we hit the problem, Remy."

He leaned against the wall, smirk planted on his face. "What problem be dat, Jean?"

She sighed. "The problem with having a telepath train an empath. Everyone is empathic to a certain extent, it's not an ability that can be just turned on and off with a whim. Otherwise husbands would be in the dog house more often than they already are, if they couldn't feel the knowledge that they'd screwed up again."

Ha ha, very funny Jean." Scott was up in the control room of the Danger Room, listening in and offering up suggestions.

"Dear, stay out of this. Instructor's orders. Or you can sleep on the couch tonight."

"Yes ma'am, I'll just monitor from here."

"Thank you." Jean turned back to Remy. "Now, as I was saying, the problem with not having a fully trained empath in our teams makes this more difficult than it should be. Like trains like better in most cases. So we'll have to wing it."

"Great, I'm a test dummy. Dat gives me warm and fuzzy feelings."

She grinned. "And I can feel them from here. What you need most of all is a set of shields to protect you from the emotions of others, so you can keep in your own mind what you are feeling, not what everyone around you is going through. Does that make sense?"

"It does, just not sure how to get there."

"We'll start simple. I'm going to project an emotion, and you get to try to block it. Ready?"

Remy stood straight and quit leaning against the wall. "Guess I am." He squared his shoulders and the intense level of concentration filled his eyes.

~Two Hours Later~

"That's it for today, you need a break. So do I, when we get down to it."

Remy was sitting on the floor, soaked in sweat. His hands were trembling from the effort he'd gone through.

"Oui, a break sounds good. I t'ink I've had enough today." He rose to his feet and ran a hand through his hair, once again failing to get all the strands out of his face. Jean didn't look much better, she was sweating and her own hands were not as sure as they usually were. His attempt at shielding had left both of them exhausted, as the unstable shields would collapse at random times. Remy simply couldn't concentrate for too long on those shields without losing their grasp and both of them gasping from emotional overload.

He nodded to her then headed for the door out of the Danger Room, only to bump into Warren just outside in the hall. "So, how did your first attempt in your entire life to control yourself go?"

Remy sighed. "It went well as expected. Why do you care, homme? Not like I gonna be on the active roster for a while. Dat should make you happy."

Warren shoved Remy against the wall and got in his face. "What would make me happy is you leaving the mansion and never coming back. You're nothing more than a loose cannon that'll cause trouble and heartache. Rogue's still not back, after taking a peek in your mind. What did she see, that could be worse than what you did to the Morlocks? What other secrets do you have stored in your slimy mind?"

Jean was heading out the door of the Danger Room when she felt the overwhelming rage roll out of Remy, mirroring the anger she could practically see in Warren's face. "No, don't...!"

That was as far as she got before something exploded in Warren's face, knocking him against the far wall. Rage came off Remy in waves, exasperating the situation as Warren was flooded with the same anger. "You wanna dance with Gambit? Fine, I pick the music."

Before Jean could do anything to head of the fight, there was a wall of ice between the two combatants. "Now let's everyone find their inner cool..."

Jean nodded a silent thanks to Bobby for the frozen creation. "Warren, Remy, this is not going to happen. No fighting in the halls like school children."

It was all that Warren could to not to fly over the wall in front of him. He responded with a petulant voice. "He started it, throwing that burst at me."

"You started it, homme, by gettin' in my face. Take your share of the blame."

Jean looked at the two men. Finally she sighed and motioned down the hall. "Remy, it might be time for a shower and a nap. You did a lot of hard work in the last two hours, and you could use the break to mellow out." He nodded and without taking another look at the frustrated Warren he headed out of the underground halls to the main part of the mansion.

Bobby melted the wall that was no longer needed. Then he turned to his friend. "You might want to give Gambit a chance."

Warren practically ruffled his feathers. "Are you on his team too?"

Bobby offered a hand. "We're all on the same team, Wings. Let's just say I know what it's like to have a power not completely under my control. Remember, when I first came here I had to wear a belt that kept me from coating everything around me in glaze ice. Do you remember?"

"I do remember that belt. You hated it."

Bobby nodded. "Yes, I did. Now it's Gambit in the spot of not controlling a power. So I might not like him that much, but I know he's trying his best. That should count for something."

~That Night~

Logan knocked on the bedroom door one more time. "If yer late to dinner, Gumbo, it's yer own damned fault. Not going to bring yer food in one a silver plate! Now get downstairs." He didn't wait for a reply, but headed down the stairs on his own.

He arrived in the kitchen to see the others waiting. "Remy's being anti-social, so we can start without him tonight. He'll get over himself, I know the boy's hungry."

Jean shrugged and started in on her salad. "He's had a very difficult day, I can understand if he doesn't want to be around a bunch of people at the moment." With that the dinner conversation turned to more open topics.

Scott was washing the dishes after dinner when Betsy came back into the kitchen. He looked up from the suds in the sink. "Forget something down here?"

"Ah, no, I was thinking of taking a few sandwiches up to Gambit. You know he never made an appearance. I know he has to be hungry, when he does show up for meals he's been shoveling down as much as he can fit on his fork."

Scott took a long look at the frying pan in his hands, then put them back under the water for more scrubbing. "I've watched him eat, it's amazing. You'd think he was starving around here, rather than being... back..." He stopped scrubbing and hung his head. "Well shit. Like he was starving all over again..."

"Back on the streets scuffling for a meal I think is what you're trying to say. Can you imagine being hungry enough to eat the plastic off wiring? Like what he did in Antarctica?" She pulled a plate from the drying rack and started making sandwiches. "I can't imagine that kind of desperation, but he's lived it."

"It's no wonder he's kept his distance from everyone but Storm and Logan. Those two seemed to understand him the best, so that's who he stays close to. He doesn't trust us. And I can't blame him on that, not with Bobby and Warren picking on him all the time. I normally wouldn't get involved in inter-team spats, but those two have been laying it on thick since he got back to the mansion."

"Bobby is the closest thing Warren has to a friend, and they were both on the first team of X-Men. It makes sense they'd stick together."

"Hey, I was on that first team too, and I'm not joining in on their harassment." Scott finished up the dishes and set the sink to drain.

Betsy smiled. "That's because you are an efficient leader that knows inter-team spats cause more issues than they get rid of. Part of that leadership is knowing that Gambit's skills, both mutant and his more illicit abilities, come in useful. How many doors has he gotten us past on missions and Ororo isn't on-site?"

Scott laughed at that. "He does have his uses on a team, I'll give you that. I'm heading to bed, it's been a long day. Do you think Gambit's still awake this late? He did have a trying time in the Danger Room."

She smiled. "I'm willing to bet he's still awake. He's also our resident night owl, while the rest of us morning larks are waking at dawn he's sleeping 'till noon if he can get away with it."

Betsy headed out of the kitchen, towards Remy's room on the third floor. Only him and Logan were on that floor on the men's side of the mansion. She knocked on the door to his room. "Remy? Are you awake?" Silence greeted her. Was she wrong and he had gone to bed already? Just as she was about to head back downstairs the door opened.

"Hey cherie, didn't expect to see you up here. What's up?"

She held the plate out. "I figured you were hungry. May I come in?"

"Sure, jus' don't mind de mess. I've not put my laundry up yet."

As she crossed the door threshold, Betsy finally got a look at a room she'd never been in. The bed was the centerpiece of the room, a California King wrapped in dark blue sheets with a green comforter tossed on one side. There were mountains of pillows at the head. The carpeting had been pulled up and the hard wood floors were in pristine condition. The walls were a soft gray, but no pictures were hanging anywhere. More than anything else, the room looked like an upscale hotel room, complete with a hi-definition television mounted on the wall along with a computer desk off to one side.

Strange music was in the background. She looked around for a stereo and couldn't see one, but she could hear the music. Setting the plate of sandwiches on the computer desk, Betsy turned to Remy.

"What band is that?"

"Que?"

"The music. I can't place it, which group is it?"

"Oh. Non, it's not a CD. Just the music background to the game I'm playing to pass some time an' stay mellow." He motioned to the television. "It's not much to watch, but dat's where the music's coming from. Silly little game, but I like it."

Betsy smirked. "You play video games in your spare time?"

He smiled in return. "Oui, but not big splashy fighting or shooting games. Get enough of dat action on missions."

She laughed. "So no Call of Duty for you."

"Not for me, dat's the truth.."

An impulse came over her, and she opened her mouth before she could stop herself. "Do you really want sandwiches for dinner, or would you rather go out?"

Remy blinked. "Not too fond of cold cuts, cherie, but I not allowed out. Remember, Gambit's on the injured listings."

"Oh, that's for missions, not a dinner date."

He raised an eyebrow. "You askin' me on a dinner date?"

Betsy realized that was just what she had done. "Maybe..."

A slow smile made it's way across his face. "Usually Gambit's the one doing the askin', but oui, dinner out wit' you sounds better than wheat bread and ham. I meet you in the garage, I gotta get presentable for goin' out."

With that Betsy walked out of Remy's room. She had to get dressed in better than some sweatpants and a pullover shirt as well, something that wouldn't cause trouble riding on the back of a motorcycle.

~Fifteen Minutes Later~

Entering the garage, Betsy could see Remy already leaning against his motorcycle and grinning. As she came over to him he began to speak. "You look good cherie, nice jeans."

"I figured a dress would get caught in the wheels of that mechanical monstrosity. Now before we get going, where exactly are we going?"

He grinned and straddled the bike, helping her into place behind him. "Dat's the surprise. found a nice place one night, wanna try it again with better company. Feelin' adventurous?"

As she settled into place she laughed. "Everything's an adventure with you, haven't you noticed?"

"Not been paying dat much attention. But you'll like it, the food's good and the music's not too loud for conversation. Unless, you lookin' to fill your stomach on my dime an' we're not gonna talk much."

She snuggled against his back as Remy kicked the motorcycle to life, her arms wrapped around his mid-section. "I think I'll be willing to talk."

"Bein. Let's get movin', before somebody notices I'm not on the grounds. I can hear Logan bitching from here, if he catches me out."