"Come to my office tomorrow around twelve o'clock.  I'll explain it all then.  Meanwhile, enjoy the rest of your evening and thanks for dinner."  He turned to leave.

"Yeah ... sure ... any time.  Good ni---.  Wait!"  Remy caught him by his arm.  "Wha' are ya talk'in 'bout?"  He demanded.

Hank looked down at Remy's hand on his lab coat then he looked back up into his questioning face.

"Sorry Hank ..."  He said down low as he released his arm.  "... but ya gotta give me more dan dat!"

Henry nodded.  "O.K."  He shifted the file folders he was holding in his arms, up in front of him.  Hank threaded through them all until he found the one he was looking for.  "Here."  He handed it to Remy.

Gambit took the folder.  The label read, 'Lebeau, Remy Etienne.'

"That's a hard copy of your medical dozier.  All of the medical data that has ever been recorded about you, from the first day I examined you when you joined the team to the present, is in that folder.

Gambit aimlessly thumbed through the papers.  "So?"

"I had forgotten all about my initial findings when I first examined you.  It was so long ago."

"Yeah?"  Remy encouraged him to continue.

"Evidently..."  He raised an eyebrow at Gambit.  "... so have you."

"Forgot wha'?"

"Remy ... your DNA structure suggest that part of your Mutant Gene, your X-Factor, also possesses the trait of telepathy.  For some reason it is dormant, has been for several years.  But with intense psychic training, we maybe able to switch that part of the Gene on.  Increasing the powers of your telepathic and psychic shields enormously."

Gambit felt that this was almost too much to handle.  He squinted his eyes at Hank.  "So ... wha' does dat have ta do wit' Chere?"

"Well, from what we have been able to determine about Rogue's powers is that her psychic bond with the psyche of others are only on a skin to skin contact.  If you were psychicly blind to her ..."

"Chere can't absorb me,"  He whispered.  "Oh Saints!  Why didn't it surface when my ot'er powers did?"

"I don't know.  It is possible it did or may have surfaced at an earlier time.  Hummmm ... interesting."  He studied Remy's shocked face.  "Perhaps it did but you were trained to shut it off and not cut it back on."

"I don' remember e'vah having it!"  Remy shook his head hard.  "Why don' I remember?"

"Curious.  Another theory is that perhaps it did surface but during a very traumatic time in your life.  Do you remember anything about your parents? Do you remember anything before you were found on the streets of New Orleans?"

Gambit visibly shivered.  For some reason, Henry's words left him cold inside.  A sharp feeling of dread and fear crept up his spine.  "Non!  Gambit don' remember anyt'ing.  I don' wanna know!  Find some ot'er way Hank!"

"But Remy, this is the ..."

"I said Non!!  Find some ot'er way for me ta be wit' Chere!  Dis ain't de way Hank!  Non!!"  He sliced his hand across in front of himself.

Hank nodded.  "All right Remy.  As you wish.  You might want to think about it over night.  Psychology is not my main forte' but if there is a reason that it is off and your memory of it is buried so deep, then perhaps it is better it stays that way.  Good night."  He nodded to his friend as he turned on his heels and left.

Gambit stood alone in the hallway watching Hank leave.  He had to compose himself before he went back into the room where Rogue waited for him.  How am I gonna do dat?  He raised both hands up before his face.  I'm shak'in like a leaf.  Both hands shook in terror.  He clinched his fist then brought them back down to his sides.  Never had he ever remembered being so scared in all his life.