I own nothing. BBT belongs to Chuck Lorre, Bill Prady and Warners. Wil Wheaton is a national treasure.

The Zombie Protocol

Amy had received an email she hadn't anticipated. From Wil Wheaton. Asking her to meet him about a business matter.

Unless he wanted to be a human test subject, she couldn't imagine what business between them would entail. Even if that was what he wanted… no dice. The rats were smarter, nicer… and better actors. She had let Sheldon charm her watching season one of Next Generation in exchange for cuddling. The cuddling had been fantastic and she had, happily, developed crushes on Data, Q and Worf. To hell with Vulcans… she needed to flip on Sheldon's inner Klingon. The bottom line was Wesley Crusher was almost as annoying as Wil Wheaton. Almost.

"Knock, Knock," Wheaton glided into the lab with an oily smile. Amy was standing next to a big old bucket of brains, singing "Cuts like a Knife" as she dissected one with a sharp scalpel. "Jesus, Fowler." He blanched, "are those human?"

Feeling minxish, "Yes they are. And they are fresh." She did love messing with lab tourists, provided they weren't in her posse. And Wil Wheaton was decidedly not in her posse. "Sit down before you pass out, Wesley."

"So you really do work with brains." Wil said, "That is good, because that is what I would like to talk to you about…"

"The science is about 13 years away from a full brain transplant and even then, I don't think I can help you."

"God you are a pain in the ass! What do you have against me anyway?"

"First of all, at least I am localized pain in the ass. You like to spread it around. As to why I don't like you… I know you tricked Penny into breaking up with Leonard. She told me." Amy said, still focusing on her work.

"Star Fleet, not Jedi Master. Fowler." Wil smiled at the memory. That had been a fun night of bowling. He cut to the chase. "I need a consultant on a pilot I am creating. I would like to offer you the job… As a favor to Sheldon."

"Woot! Tumor, bitch!" Amy exclaimed, then held the dissection tray for Wil's observation. Then she processed his statement. "You need a neurobiologist as a consultation? On a television pilot?" Her eyes widened in realization, "Out! Get out!" She gestured to the door with her scalpel.

"You haven't even heard about the project!"

"Don't need to. It's damn zombies… get the hell out of my lab!"

He frowned and stood his ground, "It is going to be different… Not cheesy! It is going to be based on science!"

"Oh, why didn't you say so?" Amy smiled sarcastically, "Here's a freebee, for you, Wil. Zombies do not exist. You can be alive or dead, you can't be both. And that is based on science."

"People used to say holograms were impossible!" Wil defended.

"Oh, my God. When? Not in our life times, buddy! Gabor Holography dates from the late 1940's, based on science that began to be developed at the turn of the century. Dennis Gabor won a noble prize in 1971, for Christ sake!" Amy yelled.

Wil's eyes narrowed acquisitively, "You are perfect for this project. I need your knowledge and your insane bitchy intelligence. Let me offer you a deal."

Amy paused, "A deal?" she sat down and put her hands on her lap. She did love to negotiate. "Wow me."

"A writing credit." He watched her choke on a giggle, "Fine. A producer credit for Sheldon?" She raised an eye brow. "A producer credit for Sheldon and I get Shatner to perform poetry at his next birthday party?"

"Interesting. One question, have you cast this little freak show yet?"

"Somewhat." He fought the smirk he felt on his lips. She was asking fun questions.

Amy wiped her hands off on a towel, "Here is my deal. No producer credit for Sheldon. Yes to the Shatner Poetry Jam. Also, I will need an authentic pair of Leondard Nemoy Vulcan ears and…." She paused, "You have to cast my friend Penny in a significant speaking role that will continue in the unlikely event the pilot becomes a series."

Wil paused, "Can she act?"

"Does it matter? Come on, Wheaton. It is Zombies. Penny is a former Junior rodeo champion, huntress and a surly waitress. She can kill Zombies." Amy coaxed, "I'll even be less assy to you."

"Do you have control over how assy you are?" He asked, nastily.

"More than you." She smiled sweetly.

The smirk materialized. "SHE SAID YES!" Wil screamed.

Sheldon came running into the lab grinning with crazy joy! "You guys are friends now!" He grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her forehead and gave her a hug.

Amy had just gotten a tiara response out of Sheldon.

He was lucky she loved him, because the only thing she was less impressed with than Wil Wheaton, was the Zombie genre.

A/N: Been having some writer's block with my other story. So I wrote this to clear the cobwebs. I can continue this one as well, if there is interest. It will be Shamy, Lenny all the way. Whamy is not a thing in my multiverse.