As usual this is not mine! I do not own and so I do not benefit from this in anyway outside of the amazing reviews that you so kindly provide me with if you so choose to! Thank you for not giving up on me just yet, and I hope you enjoy this installment of Dungeons, Dragons, and Birthdays. I promise more will come soon

He nearly fainted then and there.

"No," he thought, wallowing in self misery, "I'll never be able to save Amy now."

The booming voice echoing around him, hurting his ears (and his ego) with its foul tongued words may have been right all along. He was a useless coward.

And he definitely hadn't been expecting this.

But perhaps that was Sheldon's biggest problem today – aside from the kidnapping, the arch nemesis bent on ruining his birthday, and the momentary horror in the idea of wearing a maid costume part - he had been expecting the obvious.

To Sheldor our hero it seemed only reasonable to expect that the mysterious DM would give him the number up front or maybe even a simple riddle to be solved, not this; anything but this.

For the DM, crafty as he was, had sent him neither poem nor picture, but a semi-poor quality voice recording of his friend Stephen Hawking – mocking him.

In the automatic voice the message read "Hel-lo Shel-don, do you still think I make mis-takes?"

"Drat" Sheldon hissed under his breath

This was obviously a sign from the damned DM that he was wrong, he had failed, he'd have to make it through this blind and open to making errors.

Wait... errors.

"The error!" he exclaimed loudly. "The error's the key isn't it?"

Thinking fast Sheldon started to analyze this new revelation "It was an arithmetic error was it not? A simple miscalculation – or at least an obviously less gross oversight than my miscalculation some time back when they thought my wrong equation helped found an element. "

How much had he been off by though?

It wasn't much, single digits obviously, but even the slightest deviation could mean going head first into trouble, or getting the power-up.

Thinking back quickly he remembered the scene – Stephen Hawking had been there, yes, and he had been standing, laughing –they were having a good time. That was until the error had been pointed out…page 2...he was off by…6? No, but it was a factor of 2.

2? No, not that small.

10? No, he wasn't that much of a failure.

The voice booming over him must be impairing his thought process. Or maybe if just ate something today.

Wait.

Ate?

8.

The error was definitely off by 8.

Curse basic algebra for making him play fool but praise be to it for this means he has access to the power-ups inches away.

He felt giddy and light headed and possibly like he should sit down but he was man on a mission, he was the hero of this story and he'd be damned if he didn't get to see his Amy as quickly as possible. She was his girlfriend after all.

Now that he was allowed to look and gather his reward, Sheldon turned precisely 89 degrees looked around breathlessly.

Itching obviously to find out what his prize was to be, he momentarily pondered what would aide him.

"A sword?" he asked to no one in particular "No, it'd be useless on this journey – perhaps a key code for the pillows? No, too useful maybe –"

"What the blazes am I going to use with this?" the mad scientist spat as his eyes finally spot the only two things in the apartment that weren't turned over every which way; an odd flashlight-like devices and a can of air freshener.

What was he going to do with these? Blind the villainous fiend with the can? After all that work and still he was given useless tools.

He didn't have time for this.

Irately he whipped out his phone and quickly texted the DM

To: 671-269-0711

From: Sheldon Cooper

Time: 6:38 a.m.

To the aggravating DM of this game,

I decoded the puzzle and discovered that I rolled an 8. This should be cause for celebration and moving forward, however I find myself armed with nothing more than a flashlight and air freshener. There must be a good reason behind your blatant lies and false hope. SO just how are these supposed to help me save my princess? Time is of the essence!

From,

A very annoyed Sheldor the Conqueror,

"That should convey my displeasure!" Sheldon sighed after fiddling with the top of the aerosol spray.

"It's not like this silly bottle will be of any use to me. What could it be used for? Spraying? Spraying my apartment with the power of flowers? What does this cretin think I am – a hippie?"

Just then, in a moment of utter spite and sarcasm, Sheldor the Conqueror managed to do not one, but two very brilliant things very much on accident.

The first accident was that he was able to realize that the object in his left hand was not in fact a flashlight, but a black light. The second was that he somehow managed to spray half his apartment with wintergreen freshness.

Now, normally the second action would cause him to gloat about the uselessness of this tool and discard it as being a waste of his limited time, today however, was just a "butt load of surprises," to paraphrase one of Penny's many backcountry Nebraskan sayings.

In the immediate three feet or so that surrounded our hero, there now glistened segments of various red lines crisscrossing area like spider webs.

"Another obstacle," Sheldon thought. "Fascinating. Definitely fascinating, but this doesn't explain the black light, unless…"

Quickly, but carefully, he began to spray every inch of the apartment in arms reach, and discovered that there was an obvious trail leading him to the overturned couch.

Now, Sheldon Lee Cooper isn't an idiot, in fact he's a genius, and this genius's mama taught him two things. One, building death rays in your garage was a no-no until you got the proper permits for the nuclear reactor and two, never trust paths set by others because "Jesus would want you to follow the path set by God".

Now, ignoring the obvious religious overtones that his mother tried to force down his throat that he outright rejected in that second lesson, Sheldon had always taken the idea of not trusting other's paths seriously.

Others of smaller intellects had always told him that the things he wanted were impossible and wrong.

So while he may be aware that some of his people skills may be "rusty", a few pop culture references may be poppycock to him, and that others saw his relationship with Amy was a tad slower than what they'd expect, it was his path and it was at his pace. It was comfortable for him, and as far as his relationship with Amy was concerned, they're moving through the phases of their romantic courting at warp 4 speed. They held hands regularly and have kissed before – once on a train – how much faster did everyone expect them to go?

He couldn't imagine a life without her now, and he definitely was in love with the little lady (even if he didn't admit it out loud).

Now all that said about paths and choices, the couch presented before him looked innocent enough. Excepting being upside-down surrounded by lasers nothing was strange about it at all. However, he knew that looks could be deceiving. So, after re-spraying the area for more lasers, he opened the black light and saw a single word written in a vaguely familiar scrawl.

"Hydrogen"