Author's Note: This is Chapter 6 in the Five Ways Sheldon and Amy Didn't Meet... (...And One Way They Did) series inspired by a fantastic idea Lio came up with during a discussion in the Shamy thread at Fanforum. This fic is part of a collaboration between fanfic writers FoxPhile, Lionne6, LostInTheSun, Musickat18, WeBuiltThePyramids, and XMarisolX. Each author has written a chapter that, together, make up the collection. Each chapter is posted under the author's individual name, with the same title. Links to each chapter can be found on my profile page. Chapters are best read in the order intended:

Chapter 1 - By xmarixolx
Chapter 2 - By WeBuiltThePyramids
Chapter 3 - By Musickat18
Chapter 4 - By xLostInTheSun
Chapter 5 - By Lionne6
Chapter 6 - By FoxPhile

Disclaimer: The Big Bang Theory is an American sitcom created by Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady, and is produced by them along with Steve Molaro. It is a Warner Brothers production and airs on CBS. All characters, plots and creative elements derived from the source material belong exclusively to their respective owners. The authors of this fan fiction, do not, in any way, profit monetarily from the story.

Chapter Three
The Codpiece Topology

"Though the Renaissance originated in Italy in the fifteenth century, the term itself is French. Northern Europe itself was not included in the movement until the beginning of the seventeenth century. Really it would make more sense to call the period after its original Italian name, Rinascimento-"

Amy was interrupted by Donna, her coworker. "That's great, Amy. Thanks." Amy thought she saw Donna exchange an eye roll with the rest of her coworkers, but as she was walking slightly in front of the group, she couldn't be sure. Earlier in the week she had happened across her fellow workers as they had been planning an outing to the Renaissance Faire and, since her mother had once again insisted that she spend time with other people despite the fact that she generally found other people dull and/or intellectually lacking, she had immediately stated her intent to join them.

She had never been to a Renaissance Faire, having always eschewed the idea of dressing up and playing pretend as childish nonsense, and was frankly finding the entire day disappointing. To call this debacle a Renaissance Faire was grossly inaccurate, to say the least. Amy had tried explaining to the girl dressed in the clothing of a fifteenth century Germanic peasant that it was incorrect for her to be serving mead, as the drink of her time would have been spiced wine, but all she had received for her helpful tip was a glare. She had not partaken in the mead, as she did not wish to impair her judgment with inaccurate alcohol.

"Oh look!" Alice pointed excitedly towards a soap-making station entitled "Ye Olde Soap". "We can make our own soap!" The rest of the group started chattering excitedly and walking towards the station. Amy had little recourse but to follow them, though she had very little expectation that they would be rendering fat into soap, which would be the historically accurate method, of course. When they walked up, there were already several people standing at stations. A quick glance at their handiwork confirmed that she was indeed correct and that the soap being made was not actually renaissance soap.

"I do not believe I will join you," she said. None of her companions seemed to hear her, still chattering away and trying to find empty stations. Amy turned around to go sit on a bench close by and bumped into someone.

"Sorry about that." The man turned to his friend. "Joe, why do you want to stop here so badly? I mean, come on. Soap? Could this be any lamer? I didn't come to visit you in LA so that we could make soap together…"

The two friends stepped around Amy, bickering about the merriment to be had while making soap. Amy shook her head, in agreement with the gentleman who bumped into her that it was indeed "lame". She walked over to an empty bench, several yards from the soap making station and sat down, holding her purse on her lap.

After several minutes, a motley crew of gentlemen happened to walk up. They caught Amy's eye, not only because they were dressed in outfits that could at least pass for proper garb of the time, but because they were bickering. One gentleman, a good head taller than the rest and wearing a very convincing and period appropriate monk's costume, seemed to be arguing with the other three. Under normal circumstances Amy would not have engaged in eavesdropping, but as they were arguing about the inaccuracies of the faire they were all attending, Amy couldn't help but figuratively perk up her ears.

"Sheldon, would you just shut up? I don't care if we're not really rendering fat," said a rather brightly colored court jester. "Can't you just let us have fun?" He turned to the short man dressed in chainmail. "Why did you bring him here?"

The chainmail dressed homunculus addressed the court jester. "You know we'd never have heard the end of it."

The man they had referred to as Sheldon threw up both his hands. "How you can think that participating in such historically inaccurate activities is fun is beyond me."

Amy nodded her head slightly in agreement as a man of Indian descent walked past Sheldon shaking his head. "Whatever, dude. I want to make soap. Come on, Howard."

Amy's eavesdropping was interrupted when a sock was suddenly shoved under her nose. It was Donna, who was rummaging through her purse.

"Hold this for a second will you? I can't find my wallet."

Amy looked warily at the sock. "Is it clean?"

Donna, whose head was nearly fully immersed into her unnecessarily large purse, replied impatiently. "What? Yes it's clean."

Amy took the sock and then frowned at it. "Why do you only have one?"

Donna replied, but Amy was unable to understand it as at that very moment her phone started ringing. She reached quickly into the side pocket of her purse to find it and see who was calling. When she finally located the phone, she saw that it was her mother. As she started to hit the answer button, Donna knocked into her and her finger slipped to the end button instead.

"Found it!" Donna immediately snatched her sock back out of Amy's hand and, without so much as a thank you, headed over to the cashier to pay for her soap.

Amy sighed and started to call her mother back, but before she could, the rest of her group walked by. Amy frowned, wondering why Donna had not alerted her to their departure, and stood up, throwing her phone back into her purse and hurrying after them. She passed by the group of gentlemen on which she had previously been eavesdropping just in time to hear Sheldon say, "I should never have let you talk me into attending this travesty."

Amy couldn't help but agree with the sentiment, even if the person who had talked her into going was herself.

A/N: Thanks for reading!