Kiss The Sky [Part Eight]

I guess you could say that the next couple of days of practice were a lot less serious but a lot more involved than the first. Seriously, the two couldn't get through a single chart without lip locking at some point. They were lucky enough to get through four of them polished and memorized. I was getting tired of it but they didn't look like they were going to let up soon.

I was staring at chart number four of brain impulses. Quatre, however, was pointing at figure number five, flushed, with lips swollen from their previous 'session'.

"No more of that until you get this one right," he said although even if he were serious, Trowa didn't look like he cared. "Now then, what's this funny Y-figure supposed to mean?"

"Pre...gang...lionic...syn...ap...sing," Trowa drawled out, not really paying attention to the figure itself but on Quatre's half-exposed chest. Hmm, I guess I didn't notice it until now. Damn, Quatre's chest was creamy white, so smooth-looking too.

"Wake up Trowa. What did we say about complicated words?"

This time, Trowa was getting irritable. I would too if I were him. He was tired and probably brain dead by then - not just from getting his presentation right but also from trying to stop himself from devouring his assistant.

Come to think of it, I couldn't figure out how they were keeping up. Quatre came by twenty minutes late and that was already a late start considering that it was already eleven pm by then. He looked about ready to drop to the ground with his hair mussed up and his clothes in disarray... So, ok, that makes no difference from the way he looks now but trust me, his earlier look was a lot less pleasant than this one. In fact, he had another little temper tantrum, one that scared me out of my skin. I'm still wondering what brought it on in the first place - must be Trowa's smart mouth.

"Forget complicated words," Trowa said. "I'm tired of trying to stoop down to such a low level. Look at all these brain parts. How am I supposed to say preganglionic synapsing with cholinergic nicotinic receptors in a non-complicated way?"

Quatre sighed and I prepared myself for the worst. It was slowly starting to turn ugly because they were both tired. It was only a matter of time.

"Look, I'm not telling you to say something far from what you said. Why not just say adrenalin rush?"

"Because it's incorrect. It's only half of the adrenalin system."

Quatre rolled his eyes and I did too.

"Trowa, can't you understand that saying high up words and looking high up won't get you the people's attention."

"And what was that supposed to mean?"

That was it. I knew there was trouble. I should have probably stopped it before it even began but I didn't feel like I could've stopped it. It was bound to come up eventually.

"I meant that not everyone is a genius. You won't get anyone to understand you until you give up that low view of everyone else. You're obviously trying to shove everyone off. This isn't about being the best. It's about being part of the rest."

"Don't tell me how to live," Trowa hissed, pulling up the shirt that was falling off his shoulders. He was really angry this time. "I'm not taking this lecture from someone who lets himself be pushed around and who obviously forgot to leave his temper tantrums in grade school."

Dear, sweet... I finally find out that Trowa had it in him. Quatre didn't look like he was going to back down either. After all, he always had the little power streak going on whenever he was around Trowa.

"Like I said when we first met Dr. Barton," Quatre said with a stern look and an emphasis on the word 'doctor'. "I know what your problem is."

He came closer to Trowa and situated his face a few inches away. Trowa still hadn't given up the look of anger on his usually passive face.

"You think you know everything well enough to decide that you don't need anyone but yourself. Better to continue and enjoy the company of yourself because that's the only company you'll ever have."

Ouch!

With that said Quatre picked up his jacket and put it on hastily before opening the door. I suppose he was too distracted to remember to button up his shirt.

With his back facing Trowa, he said something in such a soft whisper that I almost didn't hear it.

"I was a fool thinking that I could get through to you."

The door clicked shut and I was left speechless. I knew better than to question Trowa lest I wanted my head cut off. I just watched as he picked up his things and arranged them off to the corner of the room. He looked very peeved as he marched to the bedroom and slammed the door shut.

===

The next few days were too quiet. In fact, it was so quiet that I was beginning to memorize brain parts on the figures. Fine, so call me weird. I was bored. That's what I did when I was bored. Hippocampus and hypothalamus - I always seemed to get the two mixed up.

"Your mail, Dr. Barton."

Mail service? That was new. I didn't know we now had special deliveries. I just watched Trowa as he went through each one of them. I was hoping that at least one of it was from Quatre. I had no such luck. I suppose Trowa was hoping for it too because he frowned right after he reached the last piece of mail. Another quiet week was ahead of us.

"So, it's finally here."

I looked up to find Trowa reading though a letter. It looked like something important so I went ahead and took a peek.

His research was finally approved. It seemed that we were now allowed to conduct the rest of the experiments. Along with the letter came another note from the department - another surprise. It was a congratulatory letter for Trowa's work plus a short list of possible companies interested in supporting the research. Apparently, the people in that department had done all the work researching the most interested companies and scheduling appointments for Trowa's presentation.

I guess you could say that he was their baby, their big baby. All the work was practically done. Imagine having the department providing him with an excellent assistant and scheduling everything for him. It was obvious that he was more than just another educator. He was a prized possession.

It was probably that knowledge that fueled Trowa's belief in himself and in his abilities. I didn't think he had an ego problem. He was just out of touch with the lower life forms, just as Quatre had mentioned a few nights earlier.

"Ten companies," he suddenly said. "That might be a little too much work."

"Nah," I said. "You'd pull it off with the first one. "Unless, of course, you'd want to go through the painstaking work of repeating that presentation over and over again until someone is satisfied."

"Then I'll have to do my best on the first one."

"What's the first company on the list?" I asked.

Trowa didn't answer me and just stood there with a look of pure horror on his face. I wanted to know why he reacted that way so I looked at the list over his shoulder. There in bold letters was the name of the first company on the list - Winner Enterprises, Inc.

Now that was certainly going to be tough. Maybe the University had the plan conjured up all along. They had it planned out long before I made my move to get Quatre into the research. They had done it ahead of time and thought up the best way to ensure Trowa's success. What better way was there than to have Trowa meet and work with the big boss himself? That way, the two would know each other well enough to secure a surefire grant approval. It was just dirty.

Little did they know that putting the two together had its disadvantages as well. Take the recent fight for example. There was no way I could see them act civilly in front of wads and wads of scrutinizing board members. The prearranged meeting and well-planned scheme had it flaws. It was really getting on my nerves. I had this plan thought up long before them.

"Stupid move but I'm not backing out of this."

I would have knocked Trowa around senseless if I could. His pride was getting in the way and I feared that there would be a scream-fest at the umpteenth floor of the tallest building in the city. Those two breaking into a fight seemed inevitable. I just had to talk some sense into Trowa before the presentation in three days.

Three days didn't seem long enough but it was up to me to calm him down and make him realize that he did something wrong, never mind that Quatre had his own problems going on as well.

"Trowa," I asked. "You aren't still mad at Quatre, are you?"

He didn't answer. It didn't matter. He had to answer me sooner or later.

"The tension in the room alone would keep you off guard and you won't be able to concentrate on what you have to say. I know you well enough to predict that."

Again, there was no response.

"Look Trowa, if you're going to go through with this, you might try to sort out your anger and be reasonable."

He seemed convinced but still didn't answer.

"He's not just an extra set of hands in the labs, right?"

This time he answered 'yes' without hesitation. I was encouraged to go on.

"Think carefully about what he said."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"You're not helping me."

"Do you believe that you could kiss the sky?" I asked all of a sudden. Believe me when I say that I had a point to that question.

"What?"

"I asked you if you believe that you could kiss the sky."

"What kind of question was that?"

I knew it was difficult to go along with my line of thinking but I just had to make my point and the question was part of the point.

"Just answer me please."

He sighed before giving in to my question. I was glad he did or else we would never have moved on from the topic.

"No," he said and didn't follow it up with an explanation. Sometimes he was just too stubborn.

"Why's that?" I insisted on asking.

"Because from my perspective, the sky is infinite. Sure, there's the concept of the heavens and all that childish nonsense. The idea of kissing the sky should be left to the dreamers and romanticists. I believe in more concrete and logical things so I am not inclined to think of the possibilities of such foolishness."

Perfect. I knew I had to follow it up before I lost my point.

"Is that why you became a scientist?"

"Yes."

"Then tell me why you try to find answers to such seemingly illogical things."

"My research is grounded in reality," he defended.

"Look Trowa, you think you can't reach him can you? You think he's just a passing wind - something you can't possibly keep. It's just pathetic the way we've been living. I, for one, will not stand and watch you give this up and go on again with our useless, everyday existence. The monkeys are starting to get on my nerves and the lab equipment has become a bane to my existence."

"He's a little too perfect."

Ok, I thought that he was starting to get a little delusional right there. Maybe he was missing the point of what I was trying to say.

"Please explain to me how mister 'I'm pissy right now because you said I'm cute' is perfect," I said.

"He's perfectly flawed," Trowa answered and thank goodness he cleared that out. I was beginning to think that he was going completely insane.

"He's something I never dealt with before," Trowa continued. "And besides, he's absolutely adorable when he comes in with the oversized coat and glasses blowing off steam and looking miffed when I tell him to clean off the monkey cages."

I had to agree to that. In fact, I'd yet to find out if the lenses on his glasses were real.

So, Trowa was feeling better. That was good because I was starting to feel better too. I was starting to get good ideas once again.

"What do you say you practice that presentation one more time tonight and then let's use that cuteness factor to cook up a surprise?"

He nodded and I smiled a wicked smile. This was going to be fun.