"Soldering iron," Cyborg said holding out a hand.

Beastboy handed it to him and waited while he thought things out.

"So you're like Beastboy, but not Beastboy?" he asked, half his body under the car he was working on in the garage.

"If I made you take a ballet class would you no longer be Cyborg?"

"Root beer," came the request from under the car which Beastboy slipped into his hand. An empty can was slung out from under the car in the direction of the trash can a minute later which deployed a mechanical tentacle to bin it. "A single ballet class, no. But I think we're talking about a lot more than a single ballet class," Cyborg said sliding out from under the car to look him in the eye.

"Licensed dentist in my eighties," Beastboy conceded.

"So it's more like you're an old friend I haven't seen in decades," Cyborg said reaching in and starting the silver, circuitry covered car, he'd been working on.

"Something like that," Beastboy agreed.

"Still wanna play stink ball?" Cyborg asked hopefully.

"Not so much," Beastboy said with a sigh. "I've got a bit more useful and manlier version in mind."

"Really?" Cyborg asked doubtfully.

"Painball," Beastboy said with a grin. "We take some large red balls, wire them to give shocks when they hit someone and can only be safely caught with special gloves."

"How big a shock?" Cyborg asked curiously.

"Enough to make you not want to get hit with them," the green teen said with a grin. "It was a version of dodge ball that was developed to help create situational awareness and the ability to aim and dodge thrown objects, while allowing us to have fun and the spectators to laugh until they wet themselves."

"Tell me more!" Cyborg said with a wide smile as he found his friend hadn't changed nearly as much as he feared.

*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*

"Time for our heart to heart?" Robin asked as he jogged on the treadmill.

"Pretty much."

"How much Beastboy is left?"

"All of me, just a bit diluted by experience," he admitted.

"How is that going to affect you in battle?" Robin asked, shutting off the treadmill and grabbing his towel.

"What was your opinion of my skills before?"

"Hand to hand skills close to non-existent, but paw to hand skills were pretty high. You were the most flexible on where to stick you in battle and invaluable in foreign environments," Robin rattled off without pause. "Hot headed and a weak link at times when a cool head was needed, but without a doubt a heavy hitter."

"Fair enough," Beastboy said thoughtfully. "I'm a bit more level headed, better at hand to hand though still a brawler by your standards, much more savage when cornered, know some magic, which may not even work here, and have some serious skills with weapons."

"What kind of doctor were you?" Robin asked.

"I was a dentist."

"And the combat skills?"

"A demon fighter for about a decade before retiring getting married and settling down," Beastboy explained.

"Only one way to test what you remember," Robin said.

"The ring?"

"The ring."

Typing by: Bankrupt Samurai