Days passed into weeks, and one morning found Hank McCoy pacing the corridors of Charles Xavier's School for the Gifted. He greeted the few students he passed politely, checking the various studies, and then made his way down to the private level, reserved only for the X-Men. He tried the briefing room, the kitchen, and then the recreation room, where he found Cyclops and Jean playing a game of pool.

"Morning, Hank," Cyclops greeted him, warmly, leaning on his pool cue, "you look lost."

"Alas, it is not I that is missing," Beast sighed, "have either of you seen Gambit? He had a check-up due this morning and he is now somewhat tardy..."

"Yeah, I saw him heading towards the Danger Room about fifteen minutes ago," Cyclops nodded, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards the corridor, "he said something about physiotherapy..."

"Oh dear," Beast closed his eyes, briefly, "when I told him he was permitted to undertake some gentle exercise, the Danger Room is not what I had in mind! He is still recuperating..."

"Perhaps we should see what he's up to, then," Cyclops quickly set aside his pool cue, abandoning the game hastily; as leader, his concern for his teammate's wellbeing was obvious, "Jean – you head to the control room, Beast and I will try to get the door open from the outside."

"On it, Scott," she nodded, and ran off towards the Danger Room control centre.

She reached the room just as Scott and Hank got to the door.

"It's locked!" Scott slammed his fist on the metal in frustration, "Gambit! Gambit, can you hear me!"

"Scott, there is a program running, I do not think he can hear you," Beast told him, tapping some keys on a control panel beside the door, "I shall attempt to override the lockout... Jean, can you tell us what is going on inside? Is Gambit alright?"

Jean activated the monitors quickly, and scanned the room, both visually and mentally.

"I have him," she reported, over the communications channel, "he is in there."

"Is he okay?" Scott's voice was laced with concern, and it was not unwarranted.

Gambit's recovery had been painfully slow, and he had been irked by his enforced inactivity. He'd experienced several setbacks caused by the sepsis and pneumonia, but as his strength increased, so did his desire to resume his normal level of activities. Which, for someone as active as Gambit, would have been strenuous, even to someone at full health. However, as Jean watched him in the Danger Room, she could not help but be impressed. Gambit had selected a relatively moderate difficulty scenario; breaking into a laboratory to steal a serum, evading guards and then overcoming resistance to his escape.

"He seems to be doing quite well," she commented, watching as the former thief vaulted easily over a wall, took out two security cameras with thrown cards, and then tackled four security guards with his bo staff, incapacitating them without killing them.

He then ran and jumped, catching a window frame and swinging himself up with catlike grace, and Jean watched as he leapt for the next window, and the next, quickly clambering to the roof of the building. He ran along the flat edge, and Jean's breath caught in her throat as Gambit made a dizzying leap across to the next building; the simulation shifted to accommodate him. She had played this particular scenario herself and knew that most people chose to go in via the basement or the sewers – trust Gambit to have found another way in. He picked the lock on the roof access door, and the room shifted again as it provided the inside layout. He reached the top of the stairs, and then suddenly faltered. His hand went to his head as he swayed, grabbing the stair rail for support.

"Oh dear," she sighed, "Hank, you'd better get in there – I think he's over-exerting himself..."

She tried to deactivate the scenario, but the controls were locked. The only way to end the scenario was for the participant to succeed, fail, or resign. She reached out to activate the communications channel, putting her voice into the room.

"Gambit," she said, gently, "I think that's enough for now."

"Non, chère," he replied, lightly, immediately straightening up, "Gambit's jus' gettin' warmed up."

"Please, Gambit," she persisted, "you've done well to get this far, please don't push yourself back into a relapse."

"Five more minutes, chère," he told her, "Gambit be careful, I promise."

He vaulted over the stair rail and lashed out with one foot, obliterating a security camera in the corner of the stairwell that Jean hadn't even noticed was there. She watched as he performed a series of rapid acrobatics, bounding from wall to wall, using his bo to counterbalance or push himself off walls and floors as he made his way down the stairs without setting a foot on the stairs themselves. Jean smiled to herself; anyone else might have thought Gambit was showing off now he knew he had an audience, but she could sense his desire was only to test himself. He landed at the bottom level in a low, defensive crouch, his left hand lightly resting on the floor in front of him, his right arm extended back behind him, holding the bo staff perfectly horizontal to the floor.

He stayed like that for a few minutes, and Jean wondered if he was waiting for an attack, but then she realised what was wrong; he was panting for breath, his lungs still struggling to recover from the pneumonia that had ravaged him only a few weeks previously. The hand that held his bo shook with the exertion. Until his recent injury and illness, Jean had rarely seen Gambit even break a sweat; to see him physically struggling like this tore her apart.

"Oh, Gambit," she sighed, into the communicator, "please... enough. It would break Rogue's heart to see you back in the infirmary again."

"Emotional blackmail now, chère?" he managed to raise his head, grinning, even as he still gasped for air.

"If it works," Jean shrugged, "I'll take it. We want you back on the team, Gambit. That won't happen if you keep over-exerting yourself."

He remained locked in his pose for a moment longer, and then slowly brought his right hand around, planting the end of the bo on the ground, and using it to lift himself to a standing position. He swayed slightly, and for one moment Jean thought he might fall, but with the support of his staff, he straightened himself up.

"Computer," he said, with a reluctant sigh, "terminate scenario. Gambit surrenders."

"Scenario terminated," the computer announced, "participant score; fifty-eight percent success. Further training recommended."

"Tell me 'bout it," Gambit sighed, as the scenario melted away around him.

With the end of the simulation, the door automatically unlocked, highlighting Beast and Cyclops in the light of the corridor.

"Ah, sorry, mes amis," Gambit grinned at them, waving his hand, "didn't realise dere was a waitin' list... de room is all yours."

"We did not come to practice," Beast shook his head, amused, even as he took in Gambit's slightly dishevelled appearance, "only to remind you of a certain appointment you may have overlooked this morning."

"Dat was dis morning?" Gambit slapped a hand to his head, and then groaned, "aw, sorry, Beast – clean forgot."

"Where there is no harm, there is no foul," Beast replied, gesturing with one claw, "assuming that there has been no harm, that is..."

"Are you sure you're up for this kind of thing already?" Scott was in full mother-hen mode.

"Don' you know by now, mon amis... Gambit ready for anyt'in..." the Cajun smirked, but his humour was lost in a bout of coughing; he slumped against his staff, and probably would have fallen had Scott not leapt to his side and grabbed him, supportively.

"Right now, I think you're ready to sit down for a while," Scott remarked, sharing a worried glance with Beast.

"Sounds good to me, mon amis."

"Don't worry, Gambit," Cyclops patted his shoulder, reassuringly, "you'll be back on the team in no time."

Gambit coughed and smirked; "You been missin' me, mon capitaine?"

"Your abilities, yeah – not so much that smart mouth of yours!"

The laugh that they shared was warm and genuine, and they left the Danger Room together, almost ready to face their next challenge.