When Sheldon and Amy arrive at Howard's, they bring a book that they just discovered at a bookstore. But what really happened at that bookstore? And what are the ramifications? Silly little missing scenes from episode 12x18 'The Conference Valuation.' CANON

THE BOOKSTORE BABY DUPLICITY

Bookstores appeared nowhere in their various contracts over the years, be it the tactic understandings of friendship or the Relationship Agreement or the Marriage Agreement. And, yet, invariably, a month did not pass in which Sheldon was not with Amy in one. It had started as an outing in which they would go to a reading and point out the errors contained therein, but it had become, more commonly, a thing unto itself.

As with so many things, it was largely Amy's doing. Sheldon found the vast majority of his fictional reading needs could be supplied at Stuart's store and the rest could easily be purchased, after rigorous research, from Amazon. But Amy liked to "go look" which in reality seemed to mean "go touch" the art on the covers and "go smell" the fresh inky pages and "go mumble to oneself" about the potential virtues or drawbacks as presented by the synopses on the covers, which all resulted in a great deal of "go buy" and "go without me, I'll stay home and read."

He could have resisted and complained and sent her alone, but . . . somehow, it made him "go smile," so "go to the bookstore" with his wife it was. Often, they weren't even together in the bookstore, as Sheldon stayed primarily in the fantasy or science sections, but Amy wandered all over, from languages and travel to literature and mysteries. Sheldon stood like the sun, near the overly-simplified Neil deGrasse Tyson books, and felt Amy orbit around him, sometimes stretching away from his warmth for the newest cozy mystery sometimes passing nearby for a medical history tome.

It was the words 50 Amazing Science Projects that caught his eye, but when he tugged out the slender white book it was about babies. Not what he expected. Never a fan of other people's children, even his sister's, there was, though, something appealing about the infant on the cover. The spectacles implied it could have inherited its refractive error from Amy and the magnifying glass suggested it could have received its genetic predisposition for curiosity from him. Along with its flawless ivory skin.

Before their marriage, as they worked to create the contract, a serious conversation had been had in which they agreed they would have children, ideally two or three. In lighter moments, Sheldon liked to tell Amy he wanted dozens of babies and she liked to tell him her uterus was not a factory, and a good time was had by all. But the timing had not been specified because Amy said she wanted to enjoy being married first. "A year or so" had been her vague suggestion. And so, every morning Amy took another pill and every morning Sheldon wondered if it made him a bad husband to bring it up sooner than three hundred and sixty-five calendar days from their nuptials.

The truth was Sheldon wanted to start a family, and he didn't see the need to wait. Their careers were advancing well - there was even hope they could put their firstborn's photograph between their Nobel medals - and their lives were stable. They were not growing any younger. Mostly, though, it was how much he was enjoying being married and how much he loved his wife that touched the aching flutter inside himself. He did not understood how enjoyment of one's spouse and enjoyment of one's child would compete. When he thought of parenting, he always thought of Amy first: the way she would grow their child, the way she would feed their child, the way she would fall asleep next to them as he took over burping and singing lullabies so that she could get some sleep. No, Sheldon didn't want to start a family, he wanted to start a family with her. Perhaps later, after a day spent with the Wolowitz children, he would find a way to bring it up -

His ears picked up at sound of Amy's gait, and Sheldon scrambled to put the book back on the shelf. He didn't want to have this important conversation in the middle of a bookstore. But the slot it had come from now seemed impossibly narrow and, in a final flustered second, he just sat the book along the edge of the shelf, cover facing out.

"Are you ready?" Amy asked with smile, carrying two books with her. "We should get going."

"Oh, yes. Let's go." He started to pivot, hoping she hadn't noticed -

"Hey, what's this?"

He froze. "What? Huh? What's what? Nothing."

But Amy was already holding the book with her free hand. "Did you see this book, Sheldon?"

"There's a book? Here? Where?"

"It's called Experimenting with Babies by Shaun Gallagher," she continued, looking down to read the back of the book, her voice sinking into that mumble he knew well. "Interesting . . . landmark studies . . . newborns and toddlers . . ." The rest of her thoughts were lost in "mmmphh" and "maaaa" noises. Suddenly she looked up. "I just had an idea."

"What? Now? In public?"

Her eyebrows dipped, but then Amy shook it away. "You're not looking forward to helping Howard watch his children between board games, correct? In fact, you only changed your mind because I promised you we'd stop at McDonalds on the way home."

Sheldon let out a very deep breath. She was talking about Howard's children. "You know I don't like other people's children. They're always sticky. And stupid."

"But your idea is brilliant. We buy this book and perform experiments on them to make the day more enjoyable."

"My idea?" Sheldon eyebrows shot up. Rapidly he considered his options and then straightened his shoulders. "Oh, yes, of course, my ideas are always brilliant." He reached out and took the little book from Amy's hand. "I must have sat this down while I was so engrossed in, um, something else."

"You almost forgot it," Amy said.

"Yes, I did."

"And that would have made it very difficult to perform your experiments and fully enjoy the Uncle Dr. Cooper experience."

"Yes, it would have."

"It's such a good thing you found this book and convinced me to take it with us."

"Convinced -" Amy's eyes narrowed. "I mean, yes. Yes, a very good thing."

"Because babies and children can be enjoyable under the correct circumstances."

Sheldon swallowed. He was certain that Amy was trying to say something other than what she was actually saying; her voice had taken on a disinterested tone that not only belied her initial excitement but also seemed flat for his expressive wife. He didn't like to encourage deception in their marriage. But the turn in conversation boded well for the possibility of discussing their actual children. If Amy wanted him to claim he found the book, he would; it wasn't untrue, it was just that she didn't know that. If Amy wanted him to be enthusiastic about engaging Howard's children, then no one would be more enthusiastic than he.

"Do you mean when the adults caring for them encourage them to learn new skills under carefully controlled, rigorous scientific conditions?"

"I do," Amy replied.

"Then, yes, babies can be very enjoyable. Come on, we don't want to be late."

It wasn't so bad. Even with the Wolowitz children. In fact, helping with the bath had entirely mitigated his concerns of stickiness. Imagine if it had been he and Amy with their own children. Surely their offspring would be both more intelligent and less disgusting.

On the drive home and all through their dinner of Happy Meals, Sheldon pondered how to bring it up. He strongly considered saying, "Amy, I know what you were up to today. I know you were trying to convince me to show interest in babies so that I would wish to procreate with you. But I already want to procreate with you."

But he didn't. Although he thought he had mastered most of Amy's facial expressions and body language, he still knew misinterpreting unspoken social cues was a fault of his in general and it was possible that Amy wasn't actually trying to bring up their own children. Maybe she really did just want him to have a more enjoyable day.

Finally, as they were preparing for bed, he decided to bring up the Wolowitz children and see how she responded. "Spending time with Michael and Halley today made think about our future children."

He saw Amy's head snap up from where she was folding a sweater. "What an unforeseen development. What are you thinking?"

There it was, that unconvincing disinterested tone again. Should he just say it, put the words out there and see how she responded? He wanted to. But maybe, just in case, he should start with their usual mutual joking about the number of those future children.

"I just can't decide: either five sets of triplets or three sets of quintuplets." He paused for Amy to arrange herself in bed beside him. "You know what, it doesn't matter as long as they're healthy. And divisible by three."

"That's a lot of babies, Sheldon." Now she sounded more like herself. Perhaps a little playful banter had been the way to go.

"Well, only for humans. For frogs it's just a drop in the bucket."

Amy frowned. "Well . . . sorry I'm not a frog."

She looked so genuinely disappointed that Sheldon leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Aww, don't feel bad, Amy. You're good enough for me."

Then he smiled and rolled over but not yet saying good night to see what she would say next. There was a pause and she said, "You're good enough for me, too."

The sheets rustled and the bed wobbled and then the light in bedroom went out. Sheldon sighed but tried to keep it quiet, so that Amy wouldn't hear. Perhaps he had entirely misread her behavior after all. And now all that was left was another night without discussion. Tomorrow would be another day, another pill, another unspoken conversation -

"Sheldon?"

His heart leapt. "Yes?"

"I haven't been entirely honest with you."

"Oh, I've never been so happy!" Sheldon cried as he rolled over to face her.

Even in the dark, he thought he could see Amy's puckered face. "What? My dishonesty makes you happy?"

Rolling back, Sheldon reached out to turn on his bedside lamp and sat up. "Well, not exactly. I just had a feeling, all day, that there was something. Why don't you tell me what you were dishonest about?"

Amy braced with her arms and herself upright next to him. "I know we haven't talked about it since the wedding, and I know that's because I said I wanted a year or so to enjoy marriage first -"

"But?" he prodded.

"I've been thinking a lot about starting a family, Sheldon. I know it's a huge step and I know change is worrying to you and I know you don't like children and I know -"

She stopped when Sheldon's hand reached out and touched hers. "Do you remember when the first Iron Man movie came out?"

"Is this relevant?"

"Everything I say is relevant." He shook his head and then explained further, "Iron Man is not a popular comic, Amy. He's bossy and selfish and a bit of a mess. He wasn't Spider-Man, and it seemed like the wrong choice and I worried I wouldn't like it. And then the movie opened and I loved it. Iron Man was just the mess I needed."

Amy's eyebrows dipped. "Um, I'm not sure I follow."

"I loved Iron Man because of how he was made on screen, still a crybaby but a really, really smart crybaby. It'll be like that."

"Is it impossible for you ever just say 'I want that, too, Amy'?" she asked.

Sheldon shrugged. "Not impossible, no, but where's the fun in that?" Amy smiled a little and then he continued, "Why is it impossible for you to just say, 'I'm ready for a baby' instead of trying to trick me into bonding with Howard's children using science?"

His wife responded by chewing on her bottom lip. "You knew, didn't you?"

"Well, yes, but then I know lots of things."

"You didn't say anything, either."

"I was trying to honor your one-year time line. I didn't want to pressure you by bringing it up sooner."

Amy threaded her fingers through his. "How about this? Let's agree to not to wait to bring up important decisions."

"Oh! Should I go get the white board so we can chart what qualifies as important?" He lifted the edge of the blankets with his free hand.

"Tomorrow." Amy squeezed the hand she still held, stopping him.

"But what if the deciding on what is important is important and thus we shouldn't wait to deal with it?" he asked.

"Trust me. Tomorrow, you can make all the charts and graphs you like. Tonight, let's talk about children."

Sheldon nodded. "Alright. But what is there to talk about? You want them now, I want them now, we agree."

"There is a lot to talk about, Sheldon. Having a child is not like helping Howard babysit for a single day. It's hard work, day in and day out. And at night, too. We'll be sleep deprived. Sometimes the baby will cry and we won't understand why because they're not logical creatures. And it's not just a single diaper, Sheldon, it will be many diapers every day. Disgusting diapers. And spit-up. And vomit." Amy took a deep breath. "I'm not stopping my career for a child -"

"I'm not suggesting you do," Sheldon interjected.

"I know. But that means you'll have to be an equal partner, Sheldon. I'll have to rely on you to help me without complaining." She paused. "You don't get to be Iron Man in this story, Sheldon, you'll have to be Gwyneth Paltrow, coming in to clean up the messes and calm me down when I get too overwhelmed with the things I have to do because you can't, like breastfeed."

"The character's name is Pepper Potts, not Gwyneth Paltrow." He mulled this thought over. "So if I'm Pepper and you're Tony Stark during his worst conniption fit, like in Iron Man 2 . . ."

"Think of a baby like the Hulk."

"But inside the Hulk is Bruce Banner, and he's a scientist. So our goal in parenting will be to sooth the savage beast and release the inner scientist."

Amy furrowed her brow. "Uh, I guess."

"I have to say Amy, I was concerned about exactly the things you mentioned, but, when you make it sound like a comic book . . . I can do this."

"We can do this," Amy squeezed his hand.

Sheldon leaned forward and kissed her. "You know what else we shouldn't wait to do?"

"What?"

"Make the baby." He ran his hand up along her arm.

"Sheldon, I'm still on my pills. I have to finish the cycle and then hope ovulation starts again next month and that's at least -"

He silenced her with another kiss. "Practice, then; let's practice. We need to have coitus every other day in order for my sperm count to be at its highest."

"Every - every other day?" Amy asked, a little breathless.

"Yes. And, even though I know the science is somewhat disputed, I think we should try for you to experience multiple orgasms in order to increase the chances of my sperm reaching the furthest expanses of your reproductive tract."

"Multiple orgasms?" Amy licked her lips, and he couldn't help but stare at the way her dark pink tongue darted over the soft tissue.

"Oh, yes." He caught that tantalizing lip between his, pulling her closer.

"Wait, wait," Amy said softly. He let her go with a tiny huff of disappointment. "We have to talk about the practicalities, too, Sheldon. Where will we live, for example? There's not enough room here for a child."

"Oh, that's the easy part.'

"It is?"

"Once we tell Leonard and Penny our plans, they'll be eager to switch apartments with us. Now come here."

THE END

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