"Beast, you have to tell her, you did it!"
"But, Jean, be logical, wouldn't it be better if we let a telepath do it, just to make sure she stays calm. I mean we have all seen everyone's beloved firecracker in an uproar. I really don't have an urge to get my fur singed right now. I just got a hot oil treatment."
"No Hank. You did it, you take the fall."
"Jean's right, Hank. You have to do it." Scott said.
"Okay, okay. What's the number to the Massachusetts Academy again?"
"HANK! In person!"
Jean handed him a set of keys.
"I suppose it would be too much to hope she'd find it funny, right?" He got no verbal response. "Maybe we could just tell her he's gone off on one of his jaunts. She'd never know the difference."
"HANK!"
"Alright, alright, I'm gone. Can I at least take Betsy to erect a telekinetic forcefield?"
"NO!"
"I suppose you are all right. It's Jubilee for crying out loud. She's a teenager. What could she possibly do to a very full grown and brilliant blue scientist?"
"She's gon' set you on fire, homme." Remy chuckled.
"Why me?" Hank asked. Then he held up a furry blue paw and said, "I know, I know, because I am the one who had to try my new experiment on Logan. But did we all forget to realize that he volunteered, hoping to finally be a little taller. How could either of us have known what was coming?"
Jean pointed toward the door. "Go Hank. You know what you have to do."
Like a dog with his tail between his legs he drooped his head and slowly marched out the door obediently.
There was a stirring of clothing and a shifting of feet before Jean said, "Wait Hank."
He turned expectantly, hoping to be relieved of his mission. No such luck.
"Maybe you should take Logan with you. She might like to...see him." Jean handed Hank a shoebox. Be careful, we don't have anything better to put him in yet."
"But, Jean, be logical, wouldn't it be better if we let a telepath do it, just to make sure she stays calm. I mean we have all seen everyone's beloved firecracker in an uproar. I really don't have an urge to get my fur singed right now. I just got a hot oil treatment."
"No Hank. You did it, you take the fall."
"Jean's right, Hank. You have to do it." Scott said.
"Okay, okay. What's the number to the Massachusetts Academy again?"
"HANK! In person!"
Jean handed him a set of keys.
"I suppose it would be too much to hope she'd find it funny, right?" He got no verbal response. "Maybe we could just tell her he's gone off on one of his jaunts. She'd never know the difference."
"HANK!"
"Alright, alright, I'm gone. Can I at least take Betsy to erect a telekinetic forcefield?"
"NO!"
"I suppose you are all right. It's Jubilee for crying out loud. She's a teenager. What could she possibly do to a very full grown and brilliant blue scientist?"
"She's gon' set you on fire, homme." Remy chuckled.
"Why me?" Hank asked. Then he held up a furry blue paw and said, "I know, I know, because I am the one who had to try my new experiment on Logan. But did we all forget to realize that he volunteered, hoping to finally be a little taller. How could either of us have known what was coming?"
Jean pointed toward the door. "Go Hank. You know what you have to do."
Like a dog with his tail between his legs he drooped his head and slowly marched out the door obediently.
There was a stirring of clothing and a shifting of feet before Jean said, "Wait Hank."
He turned expectantly, hoping to be relieved of his mission. No such luck.
"Maybe you should take Logan with you. She might like to...see him." Jean handed Hank a shoebox. Be careful, we don't have anything better to put him in yet."