Trowa sighed, rubbing his temples wearily. He kept his eyes closed when he finally put the question to his friends. �Okay. Let�s go over this one more time-�what�s the significance of the contrasts Keats uses in �The Eve of St. Agnes�?�

�That he had nothing better to do than to piss off students three or so centuries later.�

�Duo��

�It�s true, isn�t it? Isn�t anybody in this stupid study room pissed off about what we have to read for our midterms?�

Heero smirked at him from across the round table, his arms crossed on his chest. �You�re just dense, Duo.�

�Kiss my bony little butt.�

�Come on, you guys,� Trowa interrupted with a little groan. His head was positively throbbing right now. �We aren�t even halfway through this stuff, and I need to leave in a few minutes to finish my paper.�

�Well-�serves you right for signing up for Baker�s class! I told you you should�ve taken PE instead!� Duo retorted.

Trowa threw his hands up and snapped, �Look, do you people still want this study group or not? I�ve been busting my ass to help you review, and you�re not cooperating!�

�At least we�re awake,� Duo replied sullenly.

The three of them fell silent and turned to stare at Wufei, who sat hunched over his book, his face literally buried between the pages devoted to John Keats. The sound of soft snoring drifted from his still form. One of his hands lay resting on the table, his pen loosely held between his limp fingers.

�He�s gonna fail,� Heero muttered, shaking his head.

�Wake him up, for God�s sake,� Trowa said.

Duo and Heero shifted their stare from Wufei to Trowa. �Excuse me?� Duo sputtered. �Are you kidding me? Have you ever woken him up before, Barton?�

Trowa picked up the heavy volume over which he�d been agonizing for the last hour and waved it impatiently over his head. �We�ve got to study for our midterms! What the hell are you talking about? I don�t give a shit if he screams at us-�just wake him up, Duo!�

�I�d sooner be humped by a rotting rhino.�

Trowa�s headache was steadily growing by the second. �Oh, come on! So what if he gets cranky?�

�Tro, it�s like kissing Cujo,� Heero replied dryly. �Leave him alone. Let�s go on and finish this. I�m getting tired, and I�ve got a multimedia project to finish, too.�

�Okay, okay, fine-�let�s start over.� Trowa paused, sighing heavily. Damn, his head felt about ready to explode. �What�s the significance of the supernatural in Romantic poetry, and how do Coleridge�s poems reflect this?�

Trowa paused, waiting for his friends to think their responses over. He closed his eyes and bent his head, slowly rubbing his temples in a vain effort to ease the pain even if only by a smidge. It was during moments like this when he wished like hell that he didn�t do so well in his Lit classes and that the burden of leading study groups didn�t fall on his shoulders.

The throbbing in his temples wouldn�t let up, and he carried on with the tutorial with his eyes still pinched shut and his head still bent down while his fingers continued their ineffectual massage.

He waited for an answer. Fifteen seconds passed. No response. Twenty seconds. Still no response. Thirty. Forty. Trowa stopped his massaging, straining his ears. Forty-five. Fifty. Well? Fifty-five. Sixty.

He finally opened his eyes and looked up. Duo and Heero sat across the table, staring at him blankly. Trowa frowned. Then Duo raised a hand.

�What was the question again, Tro?�

**********

*Don�t know much about history
*Don�t know much biology
*Don�t know much about science books
*Don�t know much about the French I took

Trowa stared at the computer monitor, carefully going over his analysis paper line by line-�hell, word by word, even.

�Aha-�here�s one,� he murmured and highlighted a couple of sentences. �Fuse these two together-�replace �they�re� with �there.��

He scrolled a little further and found another spot. �Non sequitur-�of course! God, I almost missed that one!�

Pausing from his work, he pushed his rolling chair away from his desk and rode it across his room, grabbing a bottle of Coke and a bag of chips from another desk before rolling himself back to his computer. He stared, frowning thoughtfully at his essay once more as he started munching away.

�Hmm-�I suppose this could use a summary,� he said, quickly highlighting and deleting an entire paragraph and typing in its substitute. He read it over once he�d done, a satisfied smile playing up his face. �Perfect.�

The next two hours found him diligently going over the rest of his six-page paper, grappling with elliptical construction, modifiers, appositives, homonyms, and jargon.

He was momentarily interrupted by a frazzled Catherine begging for his assistance over a problematic portion of her own paper, which was due the following day as well. With infinite patience, Trowa went over his sister�s essay with a fine-toothed comb and easily helped her set things right. He even went so far as to lecture her firmly about the significance of keeping an eye out for logical fallacies in her arguments.

�Thanks, doll,� Catherine said once they�d done, giving her brother an appreciative hug and a kiss. �You�re such a genius.�

Trowa laughed and waved her off, quickly turning his attention back to his own work.

�Logical fallacies,� he muttered, scrolling up and down the computerized document before him. �That�s what I forgot��

It would be past midnight when he�d finally have his paper exactly the way he wanted. He printed it up, stapled the pages together, and carefully stored it in his binder.

�I�m ready for you, Prof. Baker,� he smirked as he marched to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

**********

*But I do know that I love you
*And I know that if you love me too
*What a wonderful world this would be

Trowa got his paper back from his professor a week later. While the rest of the students chatted away about their work and their respective grades, he simply sat in his corner, critically perusing every page and making note of every mark and comment that pretty much peppered all six pages.

�This is substandard work,� the end comment noted in characteristic Baker brusqueness. �I want you to work with a tutor on this and resubmit your paper once you�ve ironed out all the kinks. Judging from our tests, I know you�re capable of putting out better quality work.�

Trowa stared in silence at the large �F� that followed the comment before tucking his paper away in his binder and sitting back to wait for the lecture to begin.

**********

*Don�t know much about geography
*Don�t know much trigonometry
*Don�t know much about algebra
*Don�t know what a slide rule is for

�How�d this happen?�

Trowa shrugged, not quite sure how to answer his tutor�s stunned question without betraying himself. �I worked all night on it��

That was a fact. He�d spent at least four hours on his paper.

��and I didn�t go to bed till almost one this morning.�

That was yet another fact. He fell silent, his gaze resting on a pair of the brightest, bluest eyes imaginable. He couldn�t help but allow a half-smile on his lips as he watched the flustered boy look back down on the paper. He seemed positively lost.

*But I know that one and one is two
*And if this one could be with you
*What a wonderful world this would be

�I don�t get it,� he said slowly, scratching his head a little. Trowa watched the fine, golden strands of hair get momentarily disturbed, catching and reflecting the overhead light in soft shimmers.

The boy now frowned. �We went over the same mistakes you made in your last paper for Dr. Spindle�s class.�

�But, Quatre, you told me once that it takes lots of practice for a person to master writing.�

Quatre�s head snapped back up, and he stared, wide-eyed, at Trowa. Then he sighed. �I know I did. I guess I tend to get impatient to see results sometimes.�

Trowa smiled. �It�s okay,� he replied. �I�d be impatient, too, if I were working with someone as dense as me.�

�Oh, come on, you�re not dense.�

Trowa�s smile broadened. �Thanks. It means a lot hearing that from you.�

Quatre reddened and flashed a timid grin that sent his companion�s stomach in knots. �You�re welcome,� he replied in a small voice.

A moment�s pause followed, with both boys awkwardly looking at each other.

�Well-�how long do you think this�ll take us?� Trowa presently asked after swallowing about a dozen times to get his vocal cords functional once more.

�Huh? Oh,� Quatre stammered and quickly glanced back down at the paper, clumsily flipping pages as he did. �Uh-�you made a lot of errors in both grammar and logic here. This�ll take us a while.�

*Now I don�t claim to be an �A� student
*But I�m trying to be
*Maybe by being an �A� Student baby
*I can win your love for me

�What�s your estimate?�

�Well-�it looks like we need to go over modifiers and appositives. Oh, and elliptical construction. There are a lot of summaries here, too, when you�re supposed to be analyzing instead.�

Trowa grimaced. �You mentioned logic earlier��

�Yeah, that, too. I see a few logical fallacies in here. You seem to have a problem with non sequiturs.�

�Oh, Jesus. That means you�ll have to put up with me for the rest of the term��

Quatre looked at him, entrancing him with that smile he�d kill to see. And, God, what he�d do to have it be meant for him and him alone�

�I don�t mind working with you, really,� the boy replied shyly. �You catch on easily when we go over things.�

Trowa knew what to say next. �I see a problem here, though. You work with other students, too, so I can�t really monopolize your time in the Learning Resource Center.�

�Oh-�that�s right.�

The two fell silent again as Quatre mulled things over. Trowa, for his part, simply waited patiently, his eyes zeroing in on the boy�s mouth, watching his lips redden and swell a little as Quatre chewed on them absently. It took some doing for Trowa to look away.

*Don�t know much about history
*Don�t know much biology
*Don�t know much about science books
*Don�t know much about the French I took

�Well-�how about this-�what do you say to dinner at my place while working on this?�

�I don�t know-�that�s putting in an awful lot of work on my account.�

�Oh, but it�s okay, really,� Quatre quickly cut in. He looked almost frantic at Trowa�s hesitation. �I�m only taking two classes this term, so I�ve got some extra time on the side for this sort of thing.�

Trowa let a pause run its course before replying. �Are you sure? I don�t want to put you out.�

�I�m sure, I�m sure,� the boy said emphatically. Then, tearing out a sheet from his notebook, Quatre hastily scribbled his information down for his tutee. �Here,� he presently said, handing the piece of paper to Trowa. �I�m free tonight if you�d like to start this early.�

�Yes, I think that�d be good. All the better for me to pass the class, right?�

�Okay. I guess I�ll be seeing you then,� Quatre replied, letting out a small laugh. �Call me after five for the time.�

Trowa smiled back and tried to respond with something off-the-wall or even witty, but words suddenly failed him, and he contented himself with simply admiring his companion in silence.

**********

He stood next to his motorcycle, reflecting on his unexpected though much hoped-for luck regarding Quatre.

�Oh, man,� he muttered as he put on his helmet. �Finally. How many papers did I fuck up on purpose to get this far?�

He started laughing as he adjusted his backpack on his shoulders before straddling his bike. �God, I must be nuts.�

*But I do know that I love you
*And I know that if you love me too
*What a wonderful world this would be.