Fic Title: The Keystone Project
Author: Taichi Ishida (kewldigimon4everyahoo.com)
Pairings: 34?, 12?
Rating: R
Warnings/Spoilers: ?
Website: ?
Beta: Alleyprowler

Summary: Trowa and Quatre tackle the challenges of a not-so-ordinary university life.

A/N: Thank you also, Angeline and Sindy for reading and reviewing Prison, Love Trial and War; good luck with your summer homework, Sindy.

A/N2: Special Thanks to Alleyprowler for beta'ing this chapter and for her/his advice. glomp What would I do without you.

He sat on the ledge of the table swinging his legs. It was just about summer. Trowa was sure nearly every member of the university, the ones with a soul or a life anyway, had already abandoned campus for better things. He leapt off the table and began pacing. Surely, there were more interesting activities in the bowels of the bioengineering office waiting to be called upon. He glared at the door. "Dr. M, Bioengineering Professor," it read.

He wasn't so desperate for a research project that he needed Quatre's intervention, but intervene the cheery boy did anyway. Quatre had even offered him stay in a spare bedroom of his spacious apartment during the summer. The apartment was located in the ritzier side of town where the city never slept. Despite the nearby bustle, his apartment was part of a building which overlooked a Central Park-like sanctuary of trees and other such greenery. Rather than an apartment complex, it looked more like a hotel; valets to help you out of your car, doormen to hold the front door open, five star restaurants on the ground level, and guards cycling each floor several times an hour.

The luxury though, had its faults. Quatre, a natural people person, took to it like a duck in water. Trowa, on the other hand, had his hands full trying to remember the names of the valet, concierge, and whoever else it was he ran into on a regular basis. The "thank you"s, the "you're welcome"s, and the countless other greetings, frustrated him to no end. When I get back from school all frazzled, I don't want to talk to more people; I just want to get home unharassed. Add to that the distance from the hotel to the school, meant an obligatory taxi ride, each morning. Arriving in front of a school building, blocking traffic no less, as you stepped out of the car and people honked, was not only inconsiderate but mildly embarrassing too. He didn't care much for others' opinions, but he didn't want to be stereotyped as a pansy who couldn't bear to walk to school, lest they tarnish their white sneakers.

In the end, the unnecessary guilt he felt in turning down Quatre's offer of a summer residence resulted in him accepting the interview with Dr. M.

The office door before him swung open.

"Good morning, you must be Trowa Barton. I'm Professor M. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is mine. I've heard so much about you."

"All glowing reports I hope?" A glitter of pride twinkled in the old man's eyes.

"Indeed." Trowa nodded his assent, and walked into the office alongside the professor, settling into a grey plaid chair when gestured to sit.

"I understand you're interested in biomechanics?" Professor M smiled warmly. That was all the prompting the student before him needed. Breaking out of his polite stoic poise, he chattered excitedly about the Gundam suits, compatibility issues with the human body, strain, inertia, and possible design revisions.

The young enthusiast that sat before him was refreshing and time flew, as the broached various philosophies and sacrifices made when determining the mechanism of custom mobile suits.

By the time they finished, it was late, for a school day—around 5pm. Quatre was waiting at the corner and the two of them waved a goodbye to Professor M, who reminded Trowa to come in first thing Monday morning 9 a.m.

There were a couple minutes of silence as they walked to the nearby Auntie Anne's.

"Thanks," Trowa muttered, once he was sure they were out of the Professor's earshot. It was curt word of gratitude, but he really couldn't put into words how much he appreciated Quatre helping him find a kindred spirit, someone with common interest and great talent in the field that had become his obsession.

Quatre couldn't repress the smugness welling up in him. "Told you so."

Before Trowa could conjure a smart retort, the two found themselves in front of Auntie Anne's… and a lady who hollered, "I'd like to order 3 pretzels, please. Three glazin raisen pretzels. And since I get a free one I'd like my 4th one to be glazing raisin too!"

Her hand dove for the first pretzel handed to her. The pretzel met its fate in seconds and it was soon to be followed by three others.

Trowa bit his lip and his grip on the shop's frontdoor tightened, as he forced himself to hold his ground. Quatre looked positively green, and if he wasn't green yet, he certainly felt like it.

Quatre watched the woman scurry off, with what was left of the pretzels in her hand.

Vaguely, in the background he heard Trowa order a cinnamon pretzel for the two of them to share. Cinnamon?

I wanted almond. He sighed. Oh well. I'll be able to revenge and order almond next time. It wasn't that he particularly disliked cinnamon nor was it that Trowa disliked almond.

It was simply that the brunette insisted that they alternate when the pay for everything. Their relationship was getting neurotic.

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