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 being.
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
"Boredom Beckons"
by Icewing

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?"

"No idea."

"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 boredom."

"A bow and arrows? I think I'll leave that kinda stuff to the Avengers."

"Very well."

"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.

"Oh?"

"Yes, nothing really interesting. The results have, thus far, been rather lackluster."

"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...,"

"Nearly retired."

"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 the room.

"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 afraid."

"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. Build 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."

"Ummm, right."

"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 West wing."

"I see. Thank you," the Professor replied with a smirk, wheeling away.

"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 the library.

"I just hope you know where the Biology section is, Professor," McCoy whispered as he entered his lab.

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