Disclaimer: Robert L. Drake, Henry P. McCoy,
and Charles F. Xavier are all owned by Marvel. Tigger's owned by Disney,
so I don't own any of them and am just borrowing them for the time
Feedback: Sure. All kinds are welcomed.
Archiving: I don't see why anyone would want to, but go right
ahead if you do.
X-Men: The Early Years
Bobby Drake entered the lab of his best friend. Its cold, sterile
walls gleamed under the white lights that illuminated it from the
four corners of the room.
"Hank," he announced. "I'm bored."
"Well, how may I be of service to you then, my frigid friend?" the
larger man replied from his position on the ceiling, hanging upside
down by his bare feet, as he mixed a few chemicals. Hank McCoy adjusted
his glasses slightly, never taking his eyes off his work.
"I ... I don't know."
"Hmmm. Well, what do you want to do?"
"There're a bow and a few arrows in the attic. You could practice
with them in the Danger Room. That would most assuredly cure your
"A bow and arrows? I think I'll leave that kinda stuff to the Avengers."
"So ... umm, whatcha doin'?" Bobby asked after a moment of awkward
silence, resting against a counter in the lab.
"Just testing a few things," the man known to a few as the Beast
for his unique composure replied nonchalantly.
"Yes, nothing really interesting. The results have, thus far, been
"I see, I think."
"So, back to your dilemma."
"Er ... ok."
"What do you want to do in life?"
"Well, this superhero thing isn't so bad, I guess."
"I mean other than that."
"Oh, no idea."
"You can't be a superhero forever, you know."
"But, Xavier is..."
"In his mid thirties," the hanging behemoth interjected.
"Yeah, but my dad is...,"
"Well ... uh..." Bobby stood dumbfounded, his neck tilted to make
eye contact with the larger man.
"What do you do well, Bobby?"
"I can make ice pretty well!" For a moment, Bobby Drake, the mutant
known as the Iceman, felt good about himself. He could actually do
something. He wasn't just the useless second tier X-Man he always
felt he was; after all, who else had the power to make ice? Sadly,
that moment was short-lived.
"Other than your powers. What do you do well?"
"Oh...," the younger man simply replied, trying to regain some composure.
His right hand raised to his chin, scratching it while he thought.
"I have an A in Math ... without your help!"
"Aha!" the Beast exclaimed and flipped down to the ground. His large
feet landing centimeters from Bobby's smaller ones. "Let's work with
that." He placed the small beakers he was holding on his lab table,
took off his lab coat, and hung it on a wall hook.
"Ok!" Bobby replied energetically. "But, wait, what can we do with
an A in Math?"
"An infinite amount of things! Follow me!" Hank McCoy said as he
rushed out the door.
"Ok, ok! Slow down! And, don't start using all those big Tigger words
if you can help it!" Bobby shouted as he tried to catch up.
Moments later, Bobby Drake arrived at two very large, oak doors next
to which Henry McCoy was standing. The larger man grabbed the handle
on the nearest door and opened it as he said, "right this way," with
a sweeping hand gesture. Bobby gave him a look of pure confusion and
entered. Inside, he looked around. Rows and rows of shelves littered
"Hank, where are we?"
"The west wing of the Library. Take a seat. I'll be back momentarily."
"Ok," Bobby said, still in awe from all the shelves in the large
room. He took a seat at a nearby table and tapped his foot gently
as he looked around the room. What seemed like seconds later, the
Beast arrived with a large stack of books in each hand and three balancing
on his head.
"You're not making me do homework, are you?"
"No, no. Of course not. I don't believe in that sort of thing."
"Really? I wish you were our teacher instead of Xavier."
"I don't have the eloquent teaching manner of the professor, I'm
"Oh, sorry," Bobby stated mundanely as he eyed up the books.
"It is in no way your fault, my friend. Now, on with the reading."
"So, all I can do with an A in Math is read?"
"No, to read all you need is a somewhat decent third grade education,
but that you have. With an A in Math, you can do things. Make things.
"Really!?" Bobby exclaimed.
"Yes, but be quiet; we are in a library, after all," the larger mutant
said with grin. Bobby let out a light chuckle.
"Well, what kinds of things can I make?"
"All kinds. Here," Mr. McCoy said as he opened a book and slid it
in front of his young friend. "Look at this one. You only need to
be able to work these equations; then you can build a perfect paper
airplane." Bobby's eyes grew wide as he started reading.
"Thanks, Hank! I won't be bored for much longer!"
"Not a problem, my friend. If I can get anyone to enjoy the wonders
of reading, it is thanks enough, most definitely."
"Well, I must bid you ado. My studies beckon."
"K, later! Thanks again."
With a smile and a nod, the Beast lumbered out of the room, closing
the door behind him with his left foot. As he walked down the hall
back to his lab in ape-like fashion, a voice called from behind. "Henry,
have you seen Robert?"
"Yes, Professor," the Beast stated to his mentor as he spun around
to gain eye contact with the handicapped mutant. "He's in the library's
"I see. Thank you," the Professor replied with a smirk, wheeling
"Wait, may I ask why you wanted to see Robert?"
"I merely wanted to congratulate him on his A in Biology."
"Oh no," was all Hank could say before slapping himself in the head.
"Henry, are you feeling ok? You look a little flushed."
"Actually, I am feeling a bit ill."
"Well, get some rest." With that, Professor Xavier wheeled off towards
"I just hope you know where the Biology section is, Professor," McCoy
whispered as he entered his lab.
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