In an alternate universe where Sheldon teaches physics at Caltech, Amy takes his class as a part of her final year as a graduate student. Sparks fly between the professor and the student. But who is teaching who? An illicit romance. Shamy AU.

A/N I was inspired by S8E2 The Junior Professor Solution. This story deals with age differences, power imbalances, lessons in physics and lessons in love. Please note that I have absolutely no knowledge of physics (hurray for Wikipedia) and little knowledge of the American education system.

The Work-Life Balance Disruption

PROLOGUE

Amy tried her hardest to smooth out her skirt. She really should have worn a different one. She would not be making the best impression dressed like this.

The flight from Boston to Pasadena had been horrendous, with a crazy amount of turbulence, crying babies and smelly people (why didn't people take a shower before travelling in a confined space?).

Amy was nervous as hell. As part of her doctorate, she would be doing her final year at a different university. Amy was sad at first when she heard it; trading in Harvard for Caltech seemed like a foolish choice. It would be like trading in your mansion with a built-in swimming pool for an apartment with a shared bathroom.

After her guidance counsellor told the reasons for the final year-switch, Amy couldn't have been more excited. The level of education at Caltech was sky-high. They provided their students with research facilities beyond her measure. Where Harvard was more a theoretical school, Caltech employed a more tactical approach. It would be perfect for Amy's addiction study.

All that was left for her to do was her addiction experiment, her dissertation and a minor. The minor was merely a formality on which she didn't want to spend too much time. Therefore she had chosen Theoretical Physics. After biology, physics had been her best subject in school. It should be a breeze.

After settling in in her modest studio, Amy had taken the bus to campus. She had an appointment with Ms Davis of the exchange programme.

"Welcome to Caltech, Miss Fowler," Ms Davis greeted her. "I hope you have settled in well?"

"Yes, I have, thank you," Amy replied demurely.

"Good," Ms Davis spoke in a most calming voice. Since she also ran the HR department, Amy wasn't surprised. "I have your schedule right here, Ms Fowler. I understand you'll be doing a physics minor next to your experiments?"

Ms Davis sounded apprehensive. "Yes, I am," Amy answered, "do you not recommend it? Will the minor be too much in combination with my experiments?"

"Oh, no, no," Ms Davis quickly rebutted, "it's just that we have a… new… professor teaching Theoretical Physics and his teaching skills are still not… yet optimal. That's all."

Ms Davis smiled at her, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Amy replied, willing Ms Davis to see that she could handle an inexperienced professor as well as the next person: just because she was from another school didn't mean she wouldn't be able to handle any curve ball Caltech threw at her.

"I've had my share of inexperienced teachers," Amy continued, "as long as their knowledge is up to par, it won't be a problem."

Ms Davis gave a dry laugh. "Knowledge on the subject won't be the problem for Doctor Cooper."

After meeting her lab supervisor and a fellow graduate candidate, Amy felt more secure. She would be able to find her place here. She would share her lab with a microbiologist named Bernadette. And, while not on the same field of biology, they had some similar interests. She was enthusiastic when she greeted Amy, her bubbly personality bringing a smile to Amy's face.

Amy bid her farewell and went off to class for her minor. It was fairly easy to locate thankfully.

When she arrived in the small class room almost all seats were taken, except for the seats in the front. There was only room for around twenty students. Amy looked around nervously. It was like high school all over again. Sitting in the front of the class, without any friends. Amy chose a seat on the row closed to the door. That way, she felt like she had a chance to flee the scene.

A man with a Beatles-haircut and a dickie sat on the row next to her and gave her a small smile. Amy gave him a half-smile in return when the door to the classroom swung open suddenly.

"Good afternoon, class," the man who entered spoke with an air of arrogance and indifference.

He was tall. The suit he wore gave him a certain air of authority. Amy swallowed away the sudden dryness in her throat. He walked over to the desk at the front of the classroom, and turned around. His eyes swept over every student in the room, as if he was cataloguing them. When he reached her, his eyes seemed to halt for a second.

Amy felt a swoop in her stomach. His blue eyes seemed to pierce her.

She exhaled slowly when his attention was diverted. There was something weirdly sexy about him. He appeared pretty young for a professor. If Amy had to guess, he would be around thirty. Really young for a professor. He exuded confidence, with the way he held himself in front of everyone. He wasn't even much older than some of the students.

"Before we start with today's lecture, I'll be taking attendance," the man continued, in a bored voice. He pulled out a list of names from the folder in front of him.

"Adams, Will," he started, looking up and nodding to the young man. Amy couldn't help but wonder what her name would sound like on his lips.

After two other names, he had reached her already. "Fowler, Amy," he spoke clearly, his eyes already on her. To her horror, Amy felt she was blushing under his gaze. "P-present," she muttered.

The professor looked at the piece of paper, again. "It appears Miss Fowler has joined us from Harvard University, majoring in biology," he said the last word as if it was something disgusting, and Amy felt insulted, "I do hope you'll be able to keep up with the curriculum, Miss Fowler. We work differently here at Caltech. I expect you to be on your best behaviour."

Before she had time to respond, he continued with his list of names.

Amy felt uneasy. The professor made her feel inferior. She was on the top of her class at Harvard, she shouldn't have to feel like this. Yet, there was something about him that unnerved her.

"Wolowitz, Howard," the professor called out. The man with the Beatles-haircut was engrossed in his phone, not listening at all to the roll call in front of him. The professor looked irritated, and cleared his throat loudly.

The young man looked up and pocketed his phone. "Sorry, Sheldon," he said, smiling at him. "Raj wanted to know if he should get tickets for tonight's showing at eight or at nine. I told him nine would probably work best, with dinner and all."

The professor cleared his throat again. He looked somewhat embarrassed. "Nine o'clock is fine," he muttered, "please refrain from addressing me by my given name in class though, Mister Wolowitz."

Beatle-haircut raised his hands mockingly. "My apologies, doctor Cooper."

Amy regarded the scene in front of her. Apparently they knew each other outside of the classroom. Was the professor teaching one of his friends? That was weird, right? Amy had to assume the teachers at this university didn't go to the movies with all their students.

An image suddenly flashed in her mind. She was sitting in a darkened theatre with the professor – Doctor Cooper, apparently – next to her. His hand grasped hers, she tried to watch the movie in front of her, but he was staring at her. Looking back up at him, his eyes bore into hers again. "Am I distracting you, Miss Fowler?" he asked, moving steadily towards her…

"We'll start today by going over the bases of analytical mechanics," the professor droned on, pulling Amy out of her fantasy.

She berated herself. Never before had her mind wandered like this in class. She always paid attention, like a good student. But there was something about Doctor Cooper that intrigued her. His blue eyes, his impressive tall stature, the way he looked down at the students, arrogant, confident…

Amy gulped. She was steadily developing a crush on her professor. She was doomed.

To be continued