"What are you, then?"

"…Excuse me?"

They were in an empty room, the last stragglers of amateur chemists. Theta had long decided that quantum chemistry was entirely too simple to be interesting, and was bent over his desk finishing up a refined caricature of their professor when Ushas interrupted. She was a few desks over, gathering her notes – probably for personal experiments rather than the class at hand.

"Most of the people in Academy are easily classifiable, even Prydonians."

He raised his eyebrows, setting down his pencil (lead, nicked as a souvenir on a field trip to Earth). They didn't know each other very well – he acknowledged her as smarter than most of their peers, she seemed to think he was occasionally amusing. He was beginning to think there was mutual intrigue.

Tapping her desk with her own writing utensil – which was really far more advanced that it needed to be – Ushas went on.

"There are the politicians – you know the ones, bred for polite manipulation and devious ambition. Playing the part until they're insufferable." A slight nod as he settled down into his seat. He knew the type, of course; he enjoyed winding them up more than anyone else, really.

A slight smirk, because she did like commanding attention, and Theta's was often too lubricous to grasp for long.

"Then, of course, the scientists, the ones who know their field, excel in it, and ignore most everything else – the ones who will do most anything to push it further." Well, he couldn't argue with that; she rolled her eyes at the glint in his.

"Some, of course, are more brilliant than others." A fervent nod. She simply moved on. He supposed she didn't care for his validation, sincere or otherwise, which was fair enough.

"Then there are the casual geniuses – the clever ones who excel in most everything, and still manage to be – "

"Disruptive?" Theta was smirking again. He knew they were both considering one specific example.

"Yes," she said curtly. Ushas didn't like to be interrupted. Theta liked to interrupt. It was an interesting dynamic.

"Then there are the stragglers – they get by, but they're nothing special. They'll probably fail the first year if they're not diligent enough."

"That would be me, then."

"No." His eyes widened, more at the frustration than anything. She'd stopped tapping.

"You're smart. Most people don't notice – they're not looking, really, they never learned that bit. I've snuck a look at some of your test scores, you get just high enough to pass, every time I've seen them." That idle, cheerful interest had faded from his features; he was studying her, now, with keener eyes than any professor had seen.

"They think you don't care – but I've seen you argue with Koschei, I've heard you rant on and on about this law or that." He'd ask how – but then Ushas seemed rather good at not being seen, and she was on a tangent now anyway.

"You act apathetic and indolent, but you're too perceptive for you own good, and you work all night on whatever's caught your interest."

"How do you know what I do all night?" A disdainful stare silenced that line of questioning.

"You're no politician."

"Thank you!"

"You're not a scientist, you don't excel in i anything /i people actually want you to."

"Right you are."

An exasperated frown curled her lips.

"The problem is you're cunning and intelligent enough to be both, so why aren't you?"

A faint smile curved his own, and he slowly shook his head.

"What sort of surprise would I be then?" Her brow furrowed, and she only stared at him as he gathered his things, slipping them into his bag. He didn't speak again until he was halfway out the door.

"I'm something Gallifrey isn't used to, Ushas." A swift, roguish grin as he turned back.

"I'm the wrench in the machine."