"Leonard. Leonard. Leonard." Sheldon pounded on his door, his voice nasally and miserable sounding. Leonard looked at his clock and sighed.

"What is it, Sheldon?" he sighed.

"I'b sick."

"Oh grand." Leonard groaned. "Just great." No one liked a sick Sheldon, especially his roommate.

"Go back to bed, Sheldon. It's only six o'clock."

"But I want sub hot chocolate." he sniffled.

"So go make some!" Leonard muttered, pulling his blanket up higher on his shoulders.

"But I'b SICK!" Sheldon repeated, sniffling extra pathetically.

"All right, all RIGHT." Leonard scrabbled for his glasses, putting his feet in his Leonardo slippers. "I will be right there. I just have to make one phone call."

"A phone call is bore ibportant than baking me some hot chocolate?"

"If it's a phone call that keeps me from killing you? Yes." the experimental physicist groaned. Sheldon shuffled off, presumably to find some Doctor Who or something on the television. Leonard reached for his cell phone and a slip of paper he had begun to keep in his wallet for emergencies like this, the way most men would keep a condom in their wallet.

This was going to make his day so much easier...

"But if I lay this way, I catch the draft!" Sheldon whined, his head against his pillow (but not the pillow he slept on, the pillow behind that one from his room) as he pulled his blanket (but not the blanket from his bed. The blanket that he kept folded up in a thin cardboard box under his bed).

"But when you lay the other way, you can't see the television." Leonard pointed out, trying to resist the urge to punch his roommate in the face or give him a little more than the recommended dose of NyQuil.

"So bove the television!" Sheldon rolled his eyes.

Just as the curly haired one was getting ready to argue that point, there was a knock on the door. Finally! He thought, going over to answer it.

"Tell them to go away." the theoretical physicist burrowed down farther into the couch. "I'b sick, rebeber?"

"How could I forget?" Leonard sighed, swinging the door open.

There in the doorway stood a girl who couldn't have been more than five foot three. She had shoulder length pitch black hair and milky pale skin. Her lips had been painted blood red, and when she smiled, he could see the pearly whiteness of her teeth. Her bright blue eyes were lined in black eyeliner what matched the eyeshadow she wore quite nicely.

But that wasn't really what was shocking about her. Instead, it was the knee length pleather boots, the torn fishnet stocking, the black leather miniskirt that hugged her hips that made Leonard stare. She was wearing a nondescript black hoodie, and a t-shirt that read 'Bite Me' in big red letters that dribbled like blood.

"Hi, I'm Amy." she smiled, reaching into her ears to pull out little black ear buds. Her eyes were pierced all the way up to the cartilage, with silver hoops and little black studs.

"Hi. A-Amy." he stammered, standing back to let her in. Whatever he had been expecting, this had not been it. And whatever name he had been expecting, Amy had not been in. Ursula, maybe. Or Lillith. Possibly Morticia. But not Amy.

"Where's the sick kid?" she asked as she stepped in, peeling off her hoodie to reveal miles of silver bangle bracelets and black studded wrist straps.

"Who is SHE?" Sheldon sputtered on the couch. "What is she doing here? Bake her go away, Leonard!"

"Found him." she smiled with a roll of her eyes.

"Sheldon, this is Amy." he made his voice as calm and reasonable as he could. "She's from the—respite service."

"You called a baby sitting serbice?" Sheldon coughed weakly. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I have to work and you have proven to us many times that you cannot be left here alone." Leonard sighed as Amy crossed her arms and watched with amusement.

"But she doesn't eben know Soft Kitty." Sheldon pouted.

"You can teach her. I bet Amy likes to sing, right?" he looked at her in desperation.

"Love it," Amy agreed. "Listen, why don't Sheldon and I get to know each other while you get dressed?"

"Okay." Leonard turned to shuffle towards his bedroom.

"By the way, Leonardo was always my favorite turtle. I love leaders." she called after him. Leonard glanced down at his slippers and blushed, closing the bedroom door behind him.

When he came out, Sheldon had his blanket up to his nose, warily eying the girl sitting in the chair, legs crossed at the knee, reading a book. He stared at the pair for a moment before heading to the kitchen to pour a travel cup of coffee.

"Sheldon is very particular." he began.

"I gathered that." she looked amused, marked her place in her book with her finger. "But I don't think he's anything I can't handle."

"Really? I mean, I've heard people say that before, and I want you to have the chance to back out of this..." it could save your sanity, he didn't add.

"I specialize in difficult adults."

"I ab NOT difficult!" Sheldon cried indignantly. Leonard threw him a look which quickly shut him up.

"My grandmother had Alzheimer's. There really isn't anything Sheldon can do that's going to phase me. Promise." Amy winked and opened her book back up.

"Well... All right then." Leonard scribbled a number on a Post-It and handed it to her. "This is my cell number in case you need anything."

"We'll be just fine." Amy said in a reassuring voice. Leonard grabbed his messenger bag, seeing Amy's on the floor next to it. Hers was black and decorated with pins with various sarcastic phrases, and scribbled all over in silver Sharpie.

"Bye then." he put his hand on the knob.

"Leonard! Leonard, WAIT!" Sheldon sat bolt upright on the couch. 'You're not really leabing be with her, are you?"

"I have to work."

"I-I thought you were kidding! I promise I'll be good! I won't bake a sound. Please Leonard, don't leabe be with her!"

"Amy's a professional, Sheldon. She'll take good care of you." Leonard waved and stepped outside, closing the door tight.

"Leonard! LEONAAAAAAARD!" his howl could be heard throughout the apartment.

"Whoa, what's wrong with Dr. Whackadoodle?" Penny asked as she stepped out of her apartment, smoothing her hair back from her face before she tied on her Cheesecake Factory apron.

"Oh, he's sick and I hired a babysitter. He doesn't like her." Leonard shrugged. Penny bust into laughter as they headed for the stairs.