Sheldon Swifties LI: "The Words…"
Summary: Like my Immortal Beloved bits in my Buffyverse stories, these are fragments and short bits, some longer…Just to fiddle with ideas, possibly forming longer tales later.
Disclaimer: All is Chuck's…
Leonard, quizzical stare at Sheldon at his desk typing…
"You're really doing it?"
Sheldon, brief glance back… "Of course…Though I really don't see the need. Amy's only gone for a week."
"Sheldon…A girlfriend appreciates knowing that her boyfriend cares enough to write her. And especially Amy…God, you do little enough for her even when she's here to make her feel you care."
"So you have been endlessly telling me for the past twenty minutes…Well, I've done it. I've written Amy an email to convey that I regret her absence."
"Well…Good…" frown. "But it sure was quick…What did you write? 'Amy Farrah Fowler, greetings. Leonard forced me to email you. Yours, Dr. Sheldon L. Cooper…Listing of all your degrees…"
"Hardly…Titling myself "Dr." then adding my degrees wouldn't be proper form."
"I hope at least you said something nice…Told her you missed her."
"Why? She's only gone five days, three hours, and by my estimate, thirty four minutes…Unless she misses her flight by being foolish enough to waste time writing letters to me…Given our normal schedule of events I'd only have encountered her on two of the four evenings for approximately two hours and fifty-five minutes before her return, plus perhaps a hallway encounter of four-to-twelve minutes at Cal Tech. Hardly time to develop a sense of loss leading to the emotional response of missing her. Her body odor should persist in this apartment for at least another 130 hours based previous experience…"
Stare…Shake of head…
"Oh…Fine…Can I see what you wrote before you send it?"
"Were you recruited by the NSA recently?"
"Sheldon?"
"Then, no…"
"I just want to see if I can, you know…Spice it up a little…"
"You mean spice as in adding recipes and cooking tips?…Or some gratuitous sexual imagery from your and Penny's rather uneven romantic attachment?"
"I do have a little way with words, Sheldon…Penny's fond of my letters and emails."
"She's never read them to us at dinner…Or gossiped about how beautiful they are when you're away. It's my understanding if the letters are any good, the receiving partner likes to do that. Both to indicate their lover's prowess both intellectually and sexually…A sort of literary "up yours" to one's companions…"
"Well…They're private. We're private people…"
"She seems to feel no need to respond in kind…Unless you conceal her letters?"
"No…She just doesn't feel comfortable expressing her feelings that way. She's shy that way…"
Mental note…Say, Penny?...About the letters and emails I send you…
"Penny? Shy? Private? Please…There are no private or shy corners in that blank Nebraskan space which is her mind…"
"Sheldon! Geesh…I'm trying to help you out here."
"Then why not let me handle my relationship with Amy myself?"
"But you don't…'Handle' it…And I for one hate to see Amy sad…Imagine how she'll feel not hearing from you…"
"We talk over the computer all the time…I speak to her every day…"
"It's not the same…That's just conversation…Routine…"
"And something you don't do with Penny…" arch look.
"Penny's not that great with computers…Her chat connection isn't very good."
"Or maybe you just don't have that much to say to her…Spontaneously…We've noticed that, Amy and I…"
Hmmn…The conversation's taking a direction I wasn't expecting… "What do you mean, you and Amy, have 'noticed that'?"
"Exactly what I said…We've noticed you and Penny don't communicate much spontaneously…Share common interests, etc…Amy's very concerned for her bestie's happiness and while I regard it as an unimportant matter given you seemed to have at least achieved your desired state of regular coitus with an attractive woman…"
"We have a lot in common…"
"Then why is it you don't talk together?"
"We do…We certainly do…When we're alone, we talk…We share…"
"You mean you try to patch up yet again your shaky relationship…Granted…But do you actually share your thoughts on what you love…Your passions for Science…Literature you love…Politics you care about?...Your feelings about your mother? Oh, strike that….I know from personal experience of your whining on that subject that it must dominate your end of the conversation ad infinitum…But does she talk about her mother? Her father?"
"Uh…Occasionally…"
"Perhaps it's because you never bother to ask her that she feels you have no real interest there…"
"That's not true…I'm very interested…And as for her mother, she doesn't like to talk about her…"
"She was talking about her to me and Amy the other evening…Her grief at never seeing her again…Her guilt that dealing with her hastened her death…She seemed quite willing to talk about her."
"Uh…I'm sure she's brought her up and will again…"
"Fine…So how is her father?"
"Uh…Good…Very…Good…"
"That's funny…She's just told me this morning he was having some tests and she was very concerned."
"She did…?"
"And she wished you would ask her more about things like that…She feels sometimes you have little interest in her emotional life…"
"I…Have…Lots of interest…In that…"
"Yes, as it applies to her relationship with you and your desire to know if she's willing to copulate. But as to her innermost feelings, thoughts, desires…?" hard stare…
"I think I need to go see her…"
"I think you do…And Leonard? Don't drone on to her about your mother and your miserable childhood for once? Actually talk to her?"
Leonard blinking as he went out…
"Some guys…" Sheldon sighed.
"I feel a little uncomfortable listening in like that…" Amy's face appeared on screen. "But he needed to hear that. Thanks…For my bestie's sake."
"It's what I do…What are you doing now?" he smiled.
"The thing I love to do most, talking to you…" smile. "So? Did you actually write me something?"
"Oh, yes…But just the usual…You know I so fail to see why anyone should bother writing love letters when Shakespeare said it all so well centuries ago…Though a few since haven't been bad. But only spontaneously honest and open murmurs of the heart can ever match these, and everyone simply tries to restate the words so why not just stick with the original…"
"Well…Show me anyway…Though, Sheldon…I prefer your spontaneous murmurs of the heart any day…" beam…
"There…Please allow for the necessity of adaptation…"
"But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and [my Amy] is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid, since she is envious;
Her vestal livery is but sick and green
And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.
It is my lady, O, it is my love!
O, that she knew she were!
She speaks yet she says nothing; what of that?
Her eye discourses; I will answer it.
I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars,
As daylight doth a lamp; [Amy's] eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See, [on yon screen] how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek!"