The Jean Grey School for Higher Learning, The Medical Bay

“A pleasure as always, Dr. Reyes,” said Hank McCoy, nodding to the Puerto Rican woman as she removed the sheet covering his upper body, took the stethoscope from around her neck, and pressed the end of it to Hank’s chest.

Cecelia Reyes fought a bemused smile, trying not to let herself be swayed by the blue furred Beast’s mirth. She’d been here when he’d collapsed after all, a teleporting winged Welsh girl whisking her away from the comfort of her apartment in the middle of the night to where Hank lay, well on his way to cardiac arrest. Cecelia had remained at the Jean Grey School for Higher Learning ever since, taking time off work to care for Hank. It irked her ever so slightly, but while the life of an X-Man might not have been for her, Hank was a dear friend.

“No irregularities, Dr. McCoy,” Cecelia replied, as she peered at a nearby monitor. “Pulse, breathing, etcetera all seem to have returned to your own documented norms.”

“Well, that’s good,” Hank said, nodding.

Cecelia stared down at him sternly, the bags visible under her dark brown eyes. “It might be better if you’d stayed in bed, Hank,” she chastised. “Emma told me about your little excursions. I didn’t realise you had so much against me taking one ten minute coffee break.”


“Nope,” Cecelia cut across. “Normally, I’d be more than happy to engage in some witty repartee with you, but right now I’m tired, crabby and we’re all out of Stark patented super coffee. I’m keeping you in to be on the safe side. I’d advise you listen to your medical professional this time.”

“Cecelia, Logan and Kitty-

“Are coping,” Cecelia finished. She shoved her glasses back up on to the bridge of her nose before placing her hands on her hips. “This isn’t open to discussion, Hank. They’re getting you back in top condition or not at all.”

Hank looked up at her with imploring yellow eyes. “Cecelia-

“Don’t you dare pull the Puss in Boots act on me, McCoy,” Cecelia said sternly. Doctors really did make the worst patients. “Not even Gambit’s kittens get away with that. You’re not leaving.”

“Don’t think that’s what the furball was talkin’ about, Reyes.”

Cecelia’s heart nearly jumped out of her mouth. She whipped around, allowing her forcefield to slip over her. The infirmary took on an orange tint as she took in the form of Logan, supported by Kitty Pryde and Remy LeBeau.

“Faut pas mentir au sujet des chatons, Cecelia,” Gambit grinned. “You’ll hurt Kitty’s feelings.”

“Can it, Cajun,” Logan growled as Kitty helped him onto a bed. Cecelia allowed her forcefield to recede as her face reddened and she got her breath back. She moved swiftly over to Logan, who appeared to be sweating profusely and was surprised when Kitty ran right through her, grabbed hold of Remy’s wrist and started pulling him towards a bed as well.

“What’s the situation?” Cecelia asked as she directed Kitty to bring Gambit to the bed next to Logan’s. Cecelia threw a nervous glance at Hank, who was craning his neck with curiosity.

“This one,” Kitty said, pointing at Logan. “Is feeling ill. ‘Nuff said.”

“And Remy?” asked Hank. Cecelia glared at him.

“He started throwing up around the same time. When it comes to us, that’s not likely to be coincidence.” Kitty declared, rolling her eyes as Remy caught Cecelia’s gaze and winked playfully as he removed his trenchcoat. Logan tried not to look annoyed as Cecelia turned her back to Gambit’s antics and began examining him.

“Mais non, I’ll be fine, Kitty,” Gambit assured her.

“Well, I’m not taking any chances,” Kitty replied, phasing herself out of Cecelia’s way as she moved to Remy. “I’m not having you yak while teaching the kids Sex-Ed. You’ll scar them for life.”

“Agreed,” said Cecelia, sighing. Dealing with the unexpected was part of her job, and that was doubly true when it came to the X-Men, but she had been looking forward to getting back to her apartment this evening. That wasn’t looking likely now.

“Thanks, Cecelia,” Kitty said. “For everything.”

“Just as long as you’re not thinking of offering me a full time gig,” Cecelia said dryly.

“I’ve left Lockheed at the door on guard duty,” Kitty said. “If any of them try to leave, he’ll make sure they don’t.”

“Just as long as he doesn’t leave me treating burns on top of whatever this is,” Cecelia muttered as Kitty phased out through one of the walls, an ominous cloud of smoke billowing around the actual entrance. That was when Cecelia heard wretching and felt something warm and wet hit against her white coat. Gambit gazed up at her sheepishly. Cecelia ignored him and the vile odour of his vomit and turned to Hank.

“Get up, McCoy,” she said as she threw her coat to one side. Hank’s grin was unnerving, given his cat like features. “LeBeau is all yours.”