***Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own anything. Please enjoy and review! ***

"You are a brilliant man, Dr. Cooper."

The words traveled loudly through the engrossed physicist's office causing him to leap from his chair in startled panic at the interruption of his precious thoughts. He let out a light gasp as he found himself staring at the oddly shrewd and premeditating smile of his girlfriend. "Amy, what are you doing here?" he yelped breathlessly, clutching his chest. "Not that I'm startled or anything, I mean…I just didn't…" He steadied himself by leaning on his desk and shot her a confused, almost aggravated glare and repeated. "…what are you doing here?"

Amy smiled devilishly as she methodically crept towards her boyfriend. "I said that you are a brilliant man, Dr. Cooper."

Sheldon shot her a baffled sneer before cautiously sitting back down in his leather desk chair. "Indeed I am, but we both know that already. I say, Amy, if you were intent on spending your afternoon stating the obvious, I don't see why you couldn't have accomplished that via text message."

Grabbing a pen from his desk and twirling it between her fingers, she moved forward, leaning over his desk with a smile, just inches from his face. "Scientific curiosity, Sheldon."

He swallowed hard as his eyes began moving over her frantically, searching for something—anything—that could give him answers. Amy stood still, unwavering as he finally inhaled deeply, as if it was his first breath all day. He quickly pushed himself away from her steadied gaze and rolled his chair over to the side of his desk to safety.

"Amy!" he said in a half question, clearing his throat. "I don't understand what you could be so curious about, coming here unannounced while I'm clearly so busy—"

"I'm curious to know," she interrupted, "what a brilliant man thinks about touching his girlfriend."

Sheldon perked his shoulders and grabbed the handles of his chair tightly. "Amy, what in the world are you talking about?" He clenched his jaw as she moved even closer to him, trying and failing to calm his panic as she placed her hands softly over his that were now holding onto the sides of the chair for dear life. She noticed his chest softly heaving as she leaned down over him.

"Would a brilliant, highly evolved man touch his girlfriend?" she replied clearly.

Sheldon looked away from her piercing eyes and shook his head. "No."

She scoffed lightly, squeezing his hands, "Hmm, well a brilliant man grabbed his girlfriend's hand just days ago, so how does that stand to logic, Doctor?"

He turned defensively, looking into her eyes yet again, knowing that it was mistake.

"Amy please, you know that was —" His words were halted by his own shudder as Amy leaned in and placed her lips just centimeters from his ear.

"Would a brilliant man want to touch his girlfriend?" she whispered.

Sheldon kept his gaze carefully averted and resolutely answered. "No."

"Would a brilliant man want to be touched?"

"N-no." he said, this time less sure of himself. His voice trembled as his eyes began blinking rapidly.

"I'm beginning to doubt your credibility, Doctor." Amy whispered with a smile before moving her lips from his ear to just inches away from his mouth. He took a shallow breath and slowly moved to face her. She whispered deeply, "Would a brilliant man want to be kissed?"

After a moment of frenzied thought, Sheldon acted in a flash- removing his hands from under hers and clenching them together tightly in his lap. With a wavering inhalation, he closed his eyes and softly and moved his mouth closer to hers. As his lips lightly parted, he let out a quiet breath, weakly whispering his unconvincing answer, "No…"

He attempted to stifle his anxiety while waiting to feel that not entirely unfamiliar sensation of her lips falling against his—but felt nothing. Before he could open his eyes, his forehead was suddenly struck with a blunt slam against a highly unforgiving surface. Groaning, he awoke to a bright—and completely empty office. He lifted his head slowly from his hard wooden desk and looked the room over one more time for clarity, smiling to himself in assurance.

"Only a dream, Cooper!" he muttered happily, though not entirely sure of his own pleasure.

With a loud sigh, he glanced over at his white board in an attempt to refocus his mind to the unfailing safety and comfort of String Theory, but the board was completely empty. "Pathetic." he scolded himself. Shaking his head in disgust, he fell back into his chair and stared absently at the ceiling, trying not to be bothered, for once, with the noisy Geology goons upstairs. He opened his mind, desperately searching for some focus-some great scientific problem to answer, yet with all of his might, he couldn't keep his thoughts from circling back to her. He knew that he shouldn't have been surprised. This had been his dilemma for three weeks now, ever since their last date night when that vixen used her brain monkey powers to change everything.

Before, he was a man in the prime of his intellectual existence. Life couldn't get much better—he was at the top of his field, on the sure path to that Nobel Prize, in excellent health, and even had a girlfriend to happily cater to his every need. Why did she have to screw all of that up?

Ever since their last date night, his entire universe had been altered. He couldn't think about Amy without feeling a warm, largely unsettling feeling in his stomach. He wanted to be with her constantly, and not just for intellectual stimulation, but just because…she made him happy. He shuddered at the thought. He wasn't some free-spirited flower child, he was a scientist! But with his vast working knowledge of the universe, he couldn't understand the meaning of the way he felt when she smiled at him, or arranged a special day just for him, or paraded in front of him in a Starfleet medical uniform that he could only describe as…

"No!" he groaned. He couldn't let himself go there. Not now. Those thoughts were among the most uncomfortable and unsure experiences of his entire life. He needed more than anything, for them to stop completely, and yet he wanted desperately for them to never end. But even worse, they were reaching into every aspect of his life now, especially his work. For the past month he found himself struggling to get through an equation, much less a day, without carefully structured theory and method being permutated into some part of her. He feebly began losing sleep over attempting to gain ground in his work, yet it only left him with bouts of daytime drowsiness and reckless mental abandonment to the fate of unwelcomed dreams of, again—nothing but her.

The worst part of it all was that for once, Dr. Sheldon Cooper had no answers. For the first time in his existence, he felt lost, and the only comfort he could find was from the one source causing this mess in the first place. Even at that moment, with his mind polluted with uncertainty and boundless anxiety, he couldn't stop himself from doing the only thing in the world his mind wanted to do.

With a heavy sigh, he reached across his desk for his phone. Tapping his foot anxiously, he scrolled through the names on his contact list and composed a message as a tiny involuntary smile inched across his face.

Good afternoon Amy. I trust that you're putting a suitable amount of thought into your preferences for activities for our date night in six days. Don't forget that I sent you an updated copy of my preferences for your consideration. I'm looking forward to hearing your plans.

After sending the message, he placed his phone carefully on the desk and focused again on the barren white board. He instantly thought of the work that he needed to accomplish that day in order to avoid falling behind in his plans- yet he figured that he could certainly wait to tackle the mysteries of the universe after he received Amy's reply.

In an office across town, a resonant vibration beating against the counter caught the attention of a heavily preoccupied neurobiologist. Dark green eyes darted up from the disorganized heap of research papers as she glanced across the room at her now illuminated phone. Amy couldn't resist smiling. "And that would be my boyfriend…," she thought out loud. She dreamily looked upward before glancing at her watch. "…for the fourth time since lunch." She giggled to herself quietly at Sheldon's incessant messaging. On any other day, she would happily indulge his persistence and partake in his enticing pleasantries and stimulating conversation that she so adored, yet today there was no time for that—for anything. She realized that she hadn't even been able to review Sheldon's date night preferences for the next week.

Damn. She chided herself for neglecting her expected "girlfriend" duty of planning their date night, and rolled her eyes with a sigh at the realization that she undoubtedly had a lecture on the importance of preparedness coming her way that evening. That was okay, though; she knew she deserved it, so she would plan to sit through it and nod as she had during many of Sheldon's lectures before, all the while thinking of nothing but how sexy he would look in a tweed professor's jacket, complete with elbow patches- that would prove handy as his elbows bore heavily into his desk… as he authoritatively leaned her over the…

With a shudder, she shook herself back into reality. As much as she would have loved to allow herself to drift off into her favorite fantasy land—populated by a hypothetical Dr. Cooper, and his eager friends, Officer Cooper and Fire Marshal Cooper—she knew there was simply no time or room in her mind for that today. For, she knew that in any moment, the head of the Neurology department was going to walk through her door and deliver some much awaited news on the progress of the new Dementia trial she agreed to head that will hopefully further her career into the Neuroscience stratosphere. She fought to keep composure and mental acuity knowing that she would need to be completely focused for whatever was about to be handed to her, yet with each disruptive message alert—there had been two more since the last—she was thrust back into a myriad of thoughts about the man she adored. This isn't going to work at all. She quickly scurried over to her phone on the counter and typed a quick message.

Sheldon, I'm sorry. I'm terribly busy today, and so I can't discuss this now. We'll talk about it tonight at your apartment after dinner. See you then. Xx

She winced as she pressed send, knowing very well that this wouldn't be enough to satisfy him.

"Busy? Busy doing what? Surely you can't be doing anything that takes precedence over this conversation!" she said shrilly, doing her best Sheldon impression. She tried to hold back a light chuckle, before bursting into a full giggle as her phone buzzed loudly with Sheldon's speedy reply before she could even finish mocking him. Her heart melted in admiration of his tenacity—he's so romantic—as she began walking back towards her phone, once again allowing her handsome fella to pull her away from her work.

"Good afternoon, Dr. Fowler!" bellowed the booming voice of her department head.

Slightly startled, she threw her phone to the bottom of her messenger bag and regained her composure, walking towards the older, sharply dressed man, hand outstretched.

"And to you, Dr. Stewart!" She smiled. "I hear that you have some news for me regarding the new project, I was thinking that—"

"Yes, indeed," he interrupted, hurriedly. "I won't keep you, as I'm sure you're eager to get back to work, but I wanted to briefly update you on the status of your project grant. Your proposal was accepted, so you can begin research without delay."

Amy sighed with a grin, trying to hold back her excitement. This was her chance—a fully funded experiment focusing on the neural damage reversal in early onset dementia. The thought gave her goose bumps as her mind began reeling with the exciting implications of such an endeavor. She was on the cusp of having it all—friends, love, and now an experiment that would skyrocket her to the top of field.

Dr. Stewart leaned in to shake her hand again. "Congratulations, Dr. Fowler. This is quite an opportunity you have here. Now before I leave you to your work, I wanted to introduce your new colleague."

Amy's mental jubilee screeched to a halt. "I'm sorry, colleague, Dr. Stewart?" She cocked her head to the side in confusion, placing a hand on her hip.

As if on cue, a tall curvy blonde wearing a dress way too tight for lab work traipsed through the door, rolling a bright red bag behind.

"Dr. Fowler, meet your new partner, Dr. Tori Claybrew."

Amy recognized the woman instantly, and jerked to attention.

Tori Claybrew was the kind of woman who was impossible to forget. Amy had become fascinated with her from the moment she first saw her years ago, sharing a graduate research class. She embodied everything that Amy wanted to be—gorgeous, popular, and confident-with all of the intellectual fortitude to match. Looking more like a supermodel than a scientist, the blonde could have had any man she wanted—and was clever enough to use that to her advantage, which Amy so admired. She breezed through grad school, never having to travel abroad to woo shady foreign princes to fund her research; no, she had rich and powerful men bending over backwards to open their wallets—and likely other items of clothing—for her at any moment. As a result of her…methods, Tori had become a bit of a legend in the neuroscience community, and almost every other scientific community for that matter—she didn't discriminate in where she dipped her toes for science. She was fierce and strong—the kind of woman that always got what she wanted, the kind that was never told 'no', the kind of woman Amy imagined herself to be in her fantasies—that is of course after Doctor or Bail bondsman or Sheriff Cooper was finished with her.

Also in her fantasies, she and Tori would be best friends—a dynamic duo blazing trails and breaking hearts together for the cause-yet in reality, the only interactions they ever shared were the brief platitudes exchanged whenever Amy participated—repeatedly—in Tori's graduate research project on the stimulation of the pleasure centers of the brain. Outside of that, Amy had only admired Tori from afar. She was no fool, after all—she knew her place. The lowly, awkward wallflower could never become besties with the prom queen. But that was the past, and so much had changed. Amy was no wallflower destined to live in the shadow of the prom queen—she had her own tiara now—and with it, all of the confidence necessary to become best friends with the perpetual it girl of the science world.

Amy gleamed as she stood before her former idol and new colleague. With a shaky step, she leaned forward, hand outstretched. "Dr. Claybrew, it's an honor to have you here."

Tori extended her hand slowly and granted Amy a lukewarm smile, looking only to the side of the gushing neurobiologist, appraising her surroundings skeptically. "I read your recent paper in Neuron, Dr. Fowler; the pleasure's mine" she said in dry monotone, still looking in all directions but Amy's.

The tall department head stepped forward, interrupting their exchange. "Dr. Fowler, as you may know, Dr. Claybrew is a Neuropsychologist over at UCLA, and was one of the main developers of one of the treatment methods you'll be testing in your experiment. You should find her input…" he paused, shooting Tori a knowing look as he placed his hand on her shoulder and moved it along her arm, lingering a bit too long. "…most invaluable."

Tori shot him a smile. "Nothing less, Dr. Stewart."

He smirked before stifling himself and straightening his tie, glancing now at Amy. "Congratulations again, Dr. Fowler."

Amy delivered an appreciative nod, as the man exited the room hastily, not before conspicuously brushing past Tori, who shifted into a sly smile at the contact.

"You bedded Dr. Stewart?" Amy couldn't help herself from asking after the door was thoroughly shut.

Tori shrugged casually. "Guilty, but to be fair he was awfully eager to give me a tour of the campus here." she affirmed while examining Amy's bookshelf intently.

Amy raised her hand to her chin, dazzled. "Well I can't say that I blame him, you're a goddess, but I guess I'm just impressed by how quick you moved in for the kill, like a ravenous jungle cat." She leaned against the back wall and clenched her hands in front of her, staring up towards the ceiling. "Oh, to be a whore for science—the power!" she beamed in admiration.

Tori instantly straightened and stared directly at Amy for the first time that afternoon. Before preparing to unload a full verbal assault on her new colleague, she narrowed her eyes and took another moment to study Amy's face. "I'm sorry, but have we met before?"

Amy's eyes lit up even brighter. "I hoped you would have remembered me! We attended graduate school together, and we spoke a few occasions when I participated in your research project on—"

"Oh my God!" the tall blonde interrupted- hands on hips. "You're the record holder of orgasms in my pleasure experiment! You haven't changed a bit" she said, intently eying Amy's brown orthotics and plaid/stripe ensemble. "Nope…not one bit."

Amy blushed. "While I appreciate the sentiment, I think that statement is hardly conclusive given that you haven't observed my behavior during before and after orgasm in several years. Though for the record," Amy leaned in closer and whispered in a giggle "you're not incorrect in your assumption." Amy beamed with pride at her natural knack for girl talk.

Tori shot Amy an uncomfortable look that she had seen many times before from Penny. Amy thought perhaps she should save the girl talk for another time.

"So um, why the shift from sexual physiology to degenerative disorders?" Amy asked, trying to change the subject smoothly, as she had been mercifully taught by Penny.

Tori tentatively went back to unpacking files from her bag. "Well I'm still heavily involved in my specialty, but this dementia drug sort of…" She narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips into a tight smile. "…fell into my lap, so to speak. And so I jumped on it. This is going to be my ticket to the Nobel Prize, and yours too, if you play your cards right, Dr. Fowler."

The thought of the Nobel Prize in Neuroscience set Amy's mind ablaze. It had never occurred to her before in a real way. Sure, the Prize was undoubtedly in Sheldon's future, but hers too? As exhilarating as the thought was, however, it was something else that Tori said that really caught her attention.

"So," she began coyly, "you're still doing research on the pleasure centers on the brain then?"

Teri nodded, obviously not catching on to Amy's intentions. "Yes, very much so. In fact, I've recently developed a revolutionary new—"

"Seeing as we are now finally friends, on the road to becoming besties, if you will, I would be more than happy to…lend my body again to assist in your research," Amy blurted in a single breath, in a way that sounded more like a hopeful question than a statement.

Tori responded in a quick glance. Her blue eyes went dark and unreadable. "Listen Dr. Fowler, I'm not in the business of making friends. I'm simply here to oversee your work and make sure it's going in my…well I mean the drug's favor. We are not friends; you understand, don't you?"

Amy furrowed her brow and walked slowly towards the tall, intimidating blonde. After a moment of careful thought, she began. "I understand that you utilize male colleagues and climb the proverbial penis ladder to make gains in your career, a skill that I envy and admire by the way. But since I have no penis for you to climb on your way to the top, all I can tell you is that I am a very busy Neurobiologist, with many projects on my plate. For a friend, I would surely devote all of my undivided attention to the success of any related experiment instead, but since we aren't friends then I suppose that—"

"Alright!" Tori interjected. "You know you're more cunning than you appear, Fowler" She once again looked Amy over, marveling and wincing at the multitude of fashion felonies being committed. "On second thought and in no way influenced by anything but the kindness of my heart…" she trailed off while reaching into her red bag. She pulled out a single business card and placed it on the desk with a saccharin smile. "Here's my personal cell and email, friend. And if you're willing to scratch my back, then surely I can make my lab available to you for some scratching of your own."

Amy grinned exultantly, proud of her victory of wits, and took the card from the desk, clenching it in her hand like a trophy. "That's what friends are for, right?"

With another sweet smile that didn't quite match the look in her eyes, Tori nodded. "Sure…um, I must say though honey, as your friend, you should just get yourself a man for the um, scratching. They're much simpler than electrodes."

Amy placed the card on top of her bag and began, smiling, "If by 'getting a man' you are referring to a boyfriend, I have one—and just so you know, there's nothing simple about him."

"A boyfriend, really?" Tori replied with wide eyes. "Well, well Dr. Fowler, perhaps you have changed some after all."

Amy let a faint smile crawl across her lips and she swayed gently at the affirmation. Damn right, she thought, triumphantly.

"Well at any rate, you have my card," Tori continued, a bit more warmly. "Let me know if you need anything from me, and I'll expect you to keep me updated on the progress that you're going to be making quickly, right bestie?"

Amy nodded and glanced down at the business card as Tori went back to removing files from her bag. The card was light pink with gold trim, and perfect. She picked up the card and held it tightly. A wide grin danced across her face as she thought of her status in the world…thriving career, not one but two blonde bombshell besties, and a sexy, brilliant boyfriend who…

Damn! Amy's thoughts came to a screeching halt. She rushed over to her messenger bag, remembering her brilliant, albeit slightly nutty as a fruitcake, boyfriend who was undoubtedly waiting impatiently for her reply to his message sent earlier. Great. Now I'll be getting another lecture from Prof. Cooper…perhaps that wouldn't be such a bad thing. She sighed with a slight smile and reviewed her recent messages.

2:15 p.m. From: Sheldon Cooper—Busy? Busy doing what? Surely you can take a break from slicing your famous grey matter carpaccio to discuss a far more important matter with your boyfriend.

2:21 p.m. From: Sheldon Cooper—Alright. I'm sorry about that last dig. I am certain that you are in no way slicing your specimens too thin. I admire your work, and I can assure you that my remorseful sentiments come without provocation by the thought of koalas, or any other lovable tree dweller.

2:38 p.m. From: Sheldon Cooper—If you're not replying to me out of anger as a result of my previous statement, then I will refer you to the "Grudges and Poor Sports" clause in the Relationship Agreement.

2:42 p.m. From: Sheldon Cooper—Amy, I'm beginning to worry that you might have been mauled by one of the "bitchier" monkeys that you've been weaning off narcotics. Did you not receive the cautionary information packet that I emailed to you last week?

2:43 p.m. From: Sheldon Cooper—PRIMATE SAFETY AND YOU: AN INFORMATIVE GUIDE FOR SURVIVAL BY DR. SHELDON COOPER Here's another copy in case you didn't receive it earlier. Please respond so I know that you've not become another statistic…please Amy.

2:52 p.m. From: Sheldon Cooper—Amy, if I don't receive a reply in 10 minutes, I'm calling 911 and animal control. I'll get my bus pants and meet you at the designated Emergency Room as defined by Emergency Contingency Response Plan A.

Amy rushed to compose a reply before Sheldon had the Los Angeles S.W.A.T. knocking down her door. Slightly amused, she typed,

Sheldon I'm fine. Just got caught up in a new project. I can't wait to see you tonight for dinner.

Amy pressed send and winced, waiting for his scathing reply. Surely there would be a lecture on safety or promptness or he might even be stuck on her previous offense of failing to make date night plans a week in advance. As her phone vibrated in her hand, she took a breath and opened the message.

2:58 p.m. From: Sheldon Cooper— I look forward to seeing you, too.

2:59 pm. From: Sheldon Cooper—All in one piece.

The unusually darkened living room of Apartment 4A shook from the booming sounds of the John Williams Orchestra as the two resident physicists stared in awe at their collective fifth viewing of Star Wars on Blu-ray. Penny and Amy didn't make it through the title menu before abandoning their beaus for a bottle of pinot carefully hidden underneath one of the cabinets for such occasions.

The girls tried to maintain a quiet giggle in the kitchen as Penny poured her third—or fourth—glass. "So, Amy, tell me about you and Sheldon. Is it heating up to…to lukewarm?" she snorted at her own joke, as Amy looked in fascination at her far more inebriated bestie.

"Well to be honest, we haven't seen much of each other these past two weeks. But next Thursday is our date night, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed."

"I don't think you'll need to keep anything crossed."

Amy look confused.

Penny continued in a tone that she only thought was hushed and leaned over the island.

"Ok, look, Sheldon's been acting sort of crazy lately."

Amy's confusion heightened as she raised an eyebrow.

"Ok well…crazier." Penny replied with a chuckle. "So for nearly two weeks, Leonard's been coming to sleep over at my place because apparently Doctor Crazypants over there has been up at ungodly hours making racket, working, playing games, and doing Lord knows what else."

"Interesting." Amy replied, taking another drink of wine and leaning in. "But I still don't understand what that has to do with our date night."

Penny continued, "Well Leonard told me that he asked Sheldon what the hell was going on, and he wouldn't stop blabbering on about you…your hair, your eyes, I don't know, there was more, but all I know is that Sheldon's losing sleep—hell we're all losing sleep-over you."

Amy steadied herself against the refrigerator as she felt her heart skip a beat. As her excitement was building, she turned to look at her boyfriend, who was far too engrossed in another world to bother hearing her. She leaned in even closer to Penny and whispered,"You know, I suspected that my acceleration experiment was affecting him at some capacity, but besides a few subtle clues a few weeks ago, I haven't really had much conclusive proof that it was working, but now…"

"Well something you did is definitely working on him, but something's got to give before Leonard decides to abandon ship and move in with me," Penny preached, meeting Amy's eyes, which were now wide.

"Yeah I'm not kidding. He's already talking about keeping a drawer at my place since he's over so much now. I swear, Ames, I love you, but we're not ready for that, and I'll have your boyfriend committed before I let it happen."

"Excuse me!" Sheldon yelped in a high pitch as he paused the movie. "So you know, your senseless clucking is ruining our movie night."

"Sheldon, this was never a movie night." Penny yelled across the room. "We were going to all do our own thing until you forced us all to sit in the dark and watch the same movie you guys watched last week. I don't know what you're trying to—"

"Alright, that's it" Sheldon interrupted, waving his hand. "The precious time that we're wasting having to deal with this situation is coming out of your bathroom time, and with all of the hooch you've been guzzling, you're going to end up missing some of the most magical parts of the film, and you'll be sorry."

"Oh, I'm already sorry, sweetie." She cut Sheldon a bitter smile and moved over to the chair next to Leonard, placing her hand in his lap. "Let's just get on with it so we can get out of here." She smiled wide at Leonard, who read her mind.

"Seconded!" Leonard piped. "Play the movie Sheldon."

"As long as you acknowledge that 3 minutes will be deducted from your combined bathroom time because of this." Sheldon retorted curtly.

Leonard nodded and reached for the remote, as Sheldon waved Amy over from the kitchen.

As the sounds of Star Wars filled the apartment, Amy settled into her favorite spot next to Sheldon on the couch. She paid little attention to whatever nonsense was unfolding on the screen; instead her mind was racing with the thought of her boyfriend actually having feelings for her, the thought that her experiment was a success, and the harrowing thought of what her next move needed to be. She chided herself for not thinking far enough ahead when planning her Ebbinghaus experiment, but she really didn't expect a positive result—at least positive results that lasted this long.

Suddenly her mind, and the entire world, stopped spinning as the orchestra swelled and she felt Sheldon's hand slowly reach for hers. She sat frozen yet again by the feeling of his fingers nervously wrapping around her hand. She didn't take her eyes off of the screen, but could hear Sheldon's deep breath, which reminded her that she should probably start breathing again, too.

Well this is different. She thought to herself after a few moments, silencing the parts of her mind that were bombastically blowing party horns. Sure, it had happened before, at Howard's launch, but it was so brief that she assumed it was a fluke, especially since Sheldon avoided the subject of that entire weekend like the plague ever since. But this was no fluke, no special occasion. This was a regular movie night. Suddenly all of the erotic versions of Dr. Cooper in her mind paled in comparison to the one sitting beside her.

Without another thought, she squeezed Sheldon's hand tightly, and began stroking his wrist with her thumb. She noticed Sheldon tense at the response, yet he maintained his grasp of her. Feeling even more emboldened, she shifted closer to Sheldon and placed her head tentatively on his shoulder. As she shifted her eyes upward, she could finally see Sheldon's face in the dim light from the television. His eyes were wide, blinking rapidly. His nostrils flared as he chewed laboriously on his bottom lip. She felt his body tense even more and could hear his heart pounding rapidly. It was exhilarating; yet all she could sense was anxiety from Sheldon as he gripped her hand tighter.

Leaning her head up slightly, she whispered into his ear in a low tone. "It's okay, Sheldon."

Immediately he turned to face her. He was close enough to her face that she could feel his labored breath. Sheldon immediately averted his eyes and furrowed his brow. "What are you doing?" he asked, louder than a whisper.

"I'm watching the movie with you Sheldon." Amy replied with a tiny smile.

Sheldon didn't skip a beat. "No, I mean with your head on my shoulder." He took a moment to calm himself. "Why are you doing this?"

Amy lifted her head stared straight into his worried eyes. "Why did you hold my hand?"

He began to stutter the beginning of an answer before he was caught off guard by the sudden silence in the room. They both turned towards Penny, who had the remote in her hand.

"I had to pause the movie because of your clucking, you two. This is going to be deducted from your bathroom time, Sheldon." She smiled widely.

"Oh grow up, Penny!" Sheldon hollered.

As the movie resumed, Amy began to shift her body away from Sheldon, lifting her head from his shoulder. As she did, she felt his grasp on her hand tighten. Startled, she glanced up to find him staring at her.

"No." he breathed softly.

She scooted closer again and placed her head gently on his shoulder, and smiled at the rhythm of his heart racing, moving faster by the second into her ear. Neither of them moved a muscle until the lights came back on at the end of the movie, more precisely, at the end of the credits that Sheldon insisted they watch so he could verify the name of some random crew member. Amy smiled at Sheldon, who granted the tiniest smile back, both of them knowing that he already had those credits memorized by heart.

Amy sat at her computer later that evening, her mind racing with the events of the day. She couldn't believe that her experiment had worked and Sheldon was actually having feelings for her. She couldn't believe that he was so eager to hold her through an entire movie about who the hell knows what—she surely wasn't paying attention.

Some very prevalent part of her wanted nothing more than to do cartwheels around her apartment, but her scientific mind kept circling back to one nagging question. What's next? She remembered Penny's insistence that something had to give, and she couldn't have agreed more. She knew she loved Sheldon, and she knew that—thanks to her experiment—he was aware of some sort of feelings for her…her mind briefly danced in circles at the thought that it could be love. Even more, he actually wanted to touch her. What does this mean? Could he be inching towards a physical relationship? Does he want this, too? She had always dreamed of the day that Gerard and the numerous Dr. Coopers of her fantasies would no longer need to exist.

She sighed loudly as she spun around aimlessly in her desk chair. How could she possibly expect to move their relationship to the physical level so quickly after it took him two years to admit that he had feelings at all? She had thoughts of moving their relationship forward before, but she didn't want to push Sheldon too far too fast, however, the events of that evening convinced her that he needed this just as much as she did—not that he would ever acknowledge that. She knew that action needed to be taken, and she simply didn't have the lifespan to wait for Sheldon to move to the next level…that is, without a little assistance.

It couldn't have been clearer to her if a light bulb had exploded above her head. Sheldon became aware of his emotional feelings for her by being stimulated into an emotionally aware state. Her mind began reeling at the forming hypothesis as she started pacing excitedly throughout her apartment. If unconscious acceleration succeeded so far for his emotional awareness, then why couldn't the same methods me applied to accelerate the awareness of his carnal feelings?

Her methodical pacing transformed into an elated sprint around her apartment as Amy contemplated the implications of such an experiment. Sexual acceleration, how? She thought.

Suddenly her heart jumped. Luckily enough, she happened to have a new brilliant bestie with a lab at her disposal and a specific knowledge of sexual psychology. In an instant, she tore apart the contents of her messenger bag until she found a perfect light pink business card.

After running over to her desk frenziedly, she picked up her phone and dialed the first number on the card. Upon hearing the voicemail beep, she took a deep breath and began. "Hello Dr. Claybrew—Tori, this is your friend, Amy Farrah Fowler. Please give me a call back whenever you receive this. I need a favor."

After throwing her phone down in excitement, she scrambled back to her desk and opened a new document on her computer. The empty white page on the screen teased her as her mind was flooded. Taking a hurried deep breath she began typing with a smile.

Sheldon Cooper Acceleration Experiment: Phase 2—