There was a terrible flu going around the X-Men mansion. You, hating when you get sick, had been avoiding everyone. You thought you had managed to evade the sickness, unfortunately you were wrong and within a few days you were huddled on your bed huddled with blankets around you, and tissues scattered on your bed when Gambit comes in carrying a pot that would smell great if you hadn't been puking all day. "Gambit gonna get you feelin' right as rain cher, some o' Gambits famous gumbo fix you up good mon ami." He drawls in that thick accent sitting the pot down and bringing a spoonful over to you as he sits on the edge of your bed.