Author's note: I was inspired to write this after listening to monty Python's "Medical Love Song."

Disclaimer: I don't own Psylocke or Angel or Gambit or Beast or Cyclops. Marvel does, but they might not want to claim them after this fic.
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She was a slut.

That's what it boiled down to. Betsy read the list again: Herpes, moenelial infection, gonorrhea, scrotal pustules, trichovaginitis and syphilis.

It was the short list.

'Funny' she thought as she looked in the mirror, 'who'd guess it with this body?'

She'd have to tell Warren. Damn that wasn't gonna be fun. She'd have to tell him, and soon too. He was getting to be one horny bird. His subtle hints stopped being subtle about two months ago. He was practically begging her to fuck him. She sighed.

*X-Men to the ready room.*

'Just what I need right now,' she thought exasperated.
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"Warren you enter in through the roof with Storm. Remy and Betsy will sneak in the back, while the rest of us hit the main gate. This should give you two enough time to grab the files and get out of there." Scott continued on about the mission's details. She tried to pay attention but all she could think about was getting out of there so she could scratch her crouch. It was really annoying the hell out of her and the cream that Hank gave her wasn't doing one damn thing to help.

"Bugger."

"You don like de plan chere?" Remy looked at her and she had to stop herself from blushing. She hadn't meant to say that outloud.

"Huh? No the plan's great, Gambit. My mind just drifted." She wanted out of that room now.

"Well dey don seem like happy thoughts. You wanna talk about it?" Betsy looked at him critically for a second.

Remy had the reputation of a ladies man. He had probably been through at least one venereal disease by now. If any of the X-Men could understand her dilemma, he could. She shook her head 'No.' She was too humiliated to tell anyone, even Remy. Besides it wasn't like she had just one disease, she was practically a walking clinic.

Hell, she could handle one disease. She may have been brought up in an aristocratic British family, but she still knew how to go out and party. This was different. Apparently Kwannon was a very popular girl in Madripoor. She managed to pick up a little something from every man she met.

Oh well, now wasn't the time to think about it. They had a mission to get through.
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She had to pee. How had that happened? After the mission, they all came back and had dinner. Everyone grabbed their own and she managed to avoid Warren, instead munching on a sandwich in her room. She was careful not to grab anything to drink, even though she was thirsty. Still her bladder was full and she had to go. What misery!

She had syphilitic sores down there. Not only was it a painful experience, it tended to take a while too. She buried her face in her hands, grabbed the recent Rolling Stone and headed to the bathroom.
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'Well that as fun,' she thought to herself and she headed back to her room. Jubilee just had to be visiting right now. As if she didn't have enough problems, the girl had decided to soap all the toilet seats in the girls bathroom. Like her butt wasn't red and sore enough as it was. It itched more now too. She didn't think that was possible, but she walked into her room, slammed the door and began scratching her backside with more vigor than she had meant too. When she was done, she half sighed-half moaned and leaned back on the door.

"Betsy are you okay?"

Her eyes shot open at the sound of his voice. Had she missed him when she walked in or had he flown in through the window? Her face grew crimson. Either way as a telepath she should have noticed him there. She was just so distracted. Her butt itched so god damn much. She wanted to groan in frustration, but she held back.

"Warren what are you doing here?" She asked as she tried to keep the impatience out of her voice.

"Well you've been avoiding me lately and I wanted to know why."

"What? I haven't been avoiding you, it's just the team's been so busy lately..."

"Stop it, you have. What's going on, please tell me." He looked at her sternly, but with a definite amount of longing in his face. She had to tell him.

"Well I'm very happy with you Warren. I like you a lot, but I'm just not sure that we should become more intimate. I mean I'm not sure I'm ready." Okay it was a lie, she just couldn't say 'I'm a diseased cow and if you sleep with me, you're gonna catch every sexually transmitted disease known to man, as well as a few that have merged within me to become super diseases.'

"I think I understand. I've been worried about that myself." Warren said.

"Huh?" She was confused.

"I want us to be more intimate, but well there's something I should tell you first." Warren turned his head away from her, but continued to look at her through the corner of his eye. "You see Betsy, I think I'm in love with you and I want to make love to you, but well I haven't always been such a committed guy. What I'm trying to say is that I used to date a lot of women and I used to treat sex as though it was only part of the date. I have slept with a lot of women. Too many, I know now that I was wrong. I..." He stopped, took a deep breath and turned back to her so that his eyes met hers. She could see sorrow in them, and even some shame. "I have penile warts and I understand if you don't want to have sex with me, they're contagious if you're not cautious."

Betsy smiled and practically jumped for joy. In the past, something like that would have made her flee the room, but now she was so happy. She looked at him with admiration. That had been so courageous of him. She had to tell him.

"Oh Warren that's wonderful, not that you have them, but that...Well you see Kwannon's body came with a few diseases of its own. I have gonorrhea."

"You do?" He asked and smiled when she nodded. "So do I. I found out about it when I went to get my scrotal postules taken care of."

"You had scrotal postules? I have spirochetes."

"I have interstitial kerotitis and meningo myelitis."

"Really? I have gonnoccocal urethritis, auterior uveitis and streptococcal ballinitis."

They talked the rest of the night, laughing about their epididimitus and the snail tracts in their anuses. They even kissed once or twice, but mostly they planned. They would have sex, maybe not tonight, maybe not tomorrow night, but one night when the swelling went down.

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