THE PARADIGM SHIFT OBSERVATIONS

Summary: Leonard has returned and is settling back into life at 4A. Except, he notices some things aren't quite the way he left them. His roommate's relationship with Amy, for example.

Chapter 1: The Handhold Implementation

A/N: There is a certain level of progress with Shamy that I would love to see already established at the start of S7, with the assumption that it happened over the lonely summer of Sheldon at 4A. This is going to be a series of one-shots exploring how that progress could be hinted to on-screen and how it might have come about off-screen.

I'll try to post a chapter at least every other Thursday over the summer hiatus. Wish me luck.

Special thanks to my wonderful beta, menamena, for helping this story see the light of day!

I obviously do not own TBBT or any of its characters.


Row D. Nope.

Row E. Nope.

Row F.

Leonard shuffles sideways through the row of theater seats Sheldon has finally settled upon. His roommate and Amy leading in front, Penny behind him.

As they reach the center of the row, Sheldon plops down into one of the seats, and the rest of them follow. Leonard sets his drink into the cup holder, and turns to smile at Penny, sitting next to him. He has missed her so, and three days after his return he still is getting used to being able to see her face again every morning.

Just as he's about to close the gap between them with a quick kiss on her lips, he hears movement to his right and his name being called from a distance. "Leonard?"

Leonard rolls his eyes at Sheldon's voice and turns to find an empty seat next to him, Amy and Sheldon having relocated two seats down.

Sheldon looks at him expectantly. "Sound is better here". He says, as if a total of three feet had a significant impact on the acoustics of the movie.

Leonard stares at the two for a moment, squinting into the darkness, but Amy just shrugs. Penny pats him on the arm and gestures for him to scoot along to the next seat. "Come on, before he changes his mind again."

He picks up his drink and moves over to the empty seat to the left of Amy. Sheldon shoots a satisfied smile at him, before sinking snugly down in his seat and turning his attention back to the screen as the previews start to play.

"Some things never change…" Leonard mutters to himself. Penny smirks at his comment and leans forward again for a kiss.

"Leonard?"

Leonard closes his eyes in defeat at yet another interruption, and Penny chuckles in his ear. "They truly don't…"

He turns around to Sheldon again with an exasperated look on his face, to find him holding out two pairs of 3D glasses that he fetched out of his messenger bag. "Here are your glasses."

"Sheldon, we got glasses with our tickets." Leonard waves the packaged item in his hand.

"Nonsense, these movie theaters simply repackage glasses that have been used by countless other movie goers before. Do you really want to wear those rather than these, which I have personally sanitized?"

Leonard draws his lips into a thin line, but nonetheless takes the glasses from Sheldon. "Thank you, Sheldon".

"You're welcome!" Sheldon smiles happily at him again.

And just as Leonard passes the other pair of glasses to Penny and is about to put his own on, he sees some movement out of the corner of his eye, and does a startled double take.

Sheldon puts his own glasses on, picks up his drink with his right hand and, as the lights dim and the opening credits start to roll, he reaches out for Amy with his left hand, entwines his fingers with hers and rests their joined hands on his knee.

Just like that.

Leonard fumbles with his own glasses at the sight, almost poking himself in the eye in the process, before nudging Penny with his elbow and leaning close to whisper in her ear. "Did you see that?!" he nods in the direction of Sheldon and Amy, now engrossed in the opening credits.

Penny leans forward to look over Leonard's seat at their friends, and then just leans back in her chair, picking up Leonard's drink from the cup holder nonchalantly. "Oh yeah, he does that now…" she answers, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Because, apparently, four and a half months after their last cinema trip, it is.


It had been the last time the gang had gone out together before Leonard's departure, and the first time in a long while since Sheldon and Amy had last gone to the movies. It seemed somehow fitting that the last movie they were going to see all together would be the opening of newest Star Trek, and to mark the event they had ensured Star Trek costumes were not optional, much to Penny's dismay.

It had also been the first time in over a year that Amy had not requested to hold his hand during the movie.

The usual anxious feeling that always sat at the pit of his stomach during the first few minutes of a movie, when he would steal nervous glances in her direction dreading the moment her open palm would present itself in his field of vision, had slowly dissipated as the movie had progressed. It had given way to a sequence of other feelings: anticipation, confusion, uneasiness, discomfort, worry.

He had tried to gauge her emotional state as best as he could, something that he had been drastically improving upon recently. But he had not been able to discern anything unusual. Her posture was composed and relaxed, her hands resting against the hem of her blue medical officer uniform, and she had even occasionally returned his gaze with one of her own, and a smile. From what little he could infer, everything seemed to be fine.

He had initially attributed that sequence of feelings to disruption in a routine he had not devised himself, but had become accustomed to: take a seat, drink some of the soda, watch the previews, return Amy's handhold some time during the opening credits, and, with occasional breaks for drinking, snacking or to attend to one bladder's needs, continue holding it until the end credits.

But there was one feeling that undermined his whole theory. The feeling that had puzzled him the most, and the one he was most uncomfortable analysing, was the last feeling he had experienced, just as the lights turned on again, signalling the end of the film: disappointment.

It had happened again a month later, when they had gone to see the newest Superman, just the two of them. And a third time another week after that. At their fourth trip to the movies, his anxiety levels had increased exponentially and he had spent the whole evening alternatively clenching his fists in his lap or gripping the armrest to stop from reaching out for her hand.

Because Sheldon Cooper was not a fan of handholding. And Sheldon Cooper was not a hypocrite.

But Sheldon Cooper did ask questions. So he had, on their next Date Night.

"May I ask, why have you stopped requesting we hold hands at the movies?" He suddenly blurted out in the middle of a conversation about high-tech artificial limbs.

Amy looked taken aback by the sudden change in the topic of conversation. She put down her fork against her plate and looked at him curiously. "Because you hate it, Sheldon. You've made that abundantly clear."

"I don't hate it, I'm just…" he insisted, before he had a chance to stop himself. Amy looked at him with a frown. He frowned himself as he continued. "… not a fan."

"Same difference."

"First of all, the phrase 'same difference' is an irritating oxymoron." He paused. "Secondly, there is a big difference between hating something and not being a fan. For example, I hate Loop Quantum Gravity and I'm not a fan of applying Spectral Geometry to unify quantum theory and general relativity. But while I most definitely think Loop Quantum Gravity is a pile of hokum, I can see some merits in Spectral Geometry."

He stopped, aware that he was starting to ramble, and regretting bringing up the topic in the first place.

Amy just regarded him with a barely noticeable smirk.

"Sheldon… do you want me to hold your hand at the movies?"

"No! I mean... I got used to it. Now you've disrupted a routine and that is incredibly distressing."

Amy held his gaze for a moment longer, before turning her attention back to her food. "We haven't been holding hands at the cinema for months now, I'm sure you it won't take you much longer to fall back into your old cinematic experience routine."

"But I don't want to go back!" Sheldon exclaimed, exasperated, like a child being denied his favourite candy.

His eyes widened slightly, surprised at himself for his outburst, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Amy looked equally surprised, but, soon, her slightly open mouth curled into a small smile, her gaze softening as she spoke slowly. "Ok. Well. If it's distressing you this much we can start holding hands again."

Sheldon thought her voice sounded a bit hoarse, but was too busy feeling relieved that the conversation was over and that things would go back to normal to analyse that further.

"Good. Thank you, Amy." He broke eye contact and looked down at his food, putting the piece of chicken he had stabbed on his fork ten minutes prior into his mouth, and chewing nervously.

"You're welcome, Sheldon." Amy bit her lip to stop her smile from spreading too wide, and dug into her own food.


"You know I don't like it this way."

Halfway through the movie, Leonard turns around to peer at the couple next to him again, curious as to what the commotion is about this time.

"I'm sorry my hand was falling asleep." Amy releases his hand, after having attempted to change the handhold so that her fingers curled around the palm of his hand.

"It's sweatier this way. And my hand falls asleep when you do that. It's uncomfortable."

Sheldon huffs and puts his now free hand on the armrest between their seats, with a pout.

Leonard can't see Amy's eyes in the darkness and through her glasses, but he's pretty sure they are rolling right now.

She stares at his hand for a moment longer, as if weighing her options, before resting hers on top of his and sneaking the tips of her fingers in the space between his knuckles.

Sheldon turns to look at their hands, then at her face. A small, but seemingly pleased, smile appears on his lips. "This is not bad. It isn't as sweaty as palm to palm inevitably becomes after prolonged contact and the positioning of the hands on the armrest prevents the crick in the arm I get from resting it against my knee at a weird angle to avoid the armrest."

He looks down at their hands again and his smile gets a bit bigger as he wraps his thumb around Amy's little finger. "Well done, Amy Farrah Fowler. We should add this to the list of approved handhold positions in the Relationship Agreement."

Leonard snorts quietly. Even though he can only see the back of her head from his position, he's known them long enough to know Amy is likely smiling at Sheldon like a lovesick puppy.

How romantic.

"Just a whole new level of weird." He mutters under his breath, before turning to Penny and implementing the Sheldon-approved cinema handhold himself.


A/N: That's all for this week. Hope you enjoyed. Chapter 2 coming (hopefully) soon.

*jingle*