(A/N) Hello! Thank you very much for beginning to read this fic. As some of you might know, I ditched my old story because I thought the plot wasn't really that interesting. Hopefully this one will be much better! Most of the story will be in Sheldon's POV. There could also be an occasional third person view, so make sure you're keeping up! =)

|Chapter One|

Sheldon's POV

"Please, Leonard. You just have to drive me home!"

I clutch my iPhone close to my ear as a gust of freezing wind nips at me. Who knew it could be 30º on an early July night? It is far too cold out for Leonard to be the ridiculous, whiny individual he is. Oh, how irritating it is for him to only care about himself. I am far too important to be denied transportation!

"Sheldon, my answer isn't gonna change. I have to finish up a couple blueprints at the lab. Why can't you just take the bus?" My roommate whines like a puppy at the end of the line. He has lived with me for almost eight years, isn't the answer obvious?

"Ugh, the bus? Leonard, I am not wearing my bus pants. You precisely saw the outfit I was wearing today as well. Do you know how many antigens consist-" click. Drat, he hung up. Walking it is, I suppose.

I sigh as I kick at stones on the sidewalk in a huff. Leonard always says I'm his 'buddy' but he never acts like one in return. Not driving your best friend home when it is pitch dark out is pretty cold, I must say. I cringe a bit as the desolate street shops along Los Robles Avenue begin to shut their lights off. Perhaps I should stick close to the walls. At least that is a bit more effective than being jumped by some hooligan in the middle of the sidewalk.

Rustle. Rustle. Rustle. What the hell was that? I glance around the brick building behind me and don't see anything. Maybe I should just keep walking, I proceed. Rustle. Rustle. Rustle. Okay, there it is again. I edge closer, damn Penny's fearless Nebraskan attitude for rubbing off on me. I see a plastic sheet over a milk crate begin to move, which the source of the noise seems to be causing. Here goes nothing…

"Aha! Oh,"

I drop the sheet immediately as I take in the unusual sight before me. A tiny, little girl, no older than about two or three years old looks up at me with large, vivid blue eyes. I step back in shock. What is this young girl doing by herself at 10 o'clock at night on the streets of Pasadena? I edge a bit closer, her expression of interest somewhat intriguing me.

"Um, hello." I hesitantly greet as I kneel down to the toddler's level. She returns a small smile. I can tell that she probably does not know many words, considering her novice age. "Where are your parents?"

The child looks down at her tattered shoes and then back up at me with probably the saddest eyes I have ever seen. She gives a high-pitched sigh and shrugs her shoulders. Oh dear, this can't be good. What do I do now? I have always been unsure how to react around children. I mean, they are not fully educated and just so pathetically innocent.

I look down once more to see the silent girl begin to shiver, her shoulders trembling slightly. Curse this cold weather. I surprise myself by removing my own brown and tan jacket and placing it gently over her shoulders. Does the intellectual, powerful mind of Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper actually have a paternal instinct? Perhaps. The young girl immediately begins to perk up, a wide grin spreading across her face.

What do I do with this little child? There are obviously no guardians of her own to look after her. On the other hand, she is not my responsibility. If I don't intervene, it's not my problem. But can I possibly leave this immature child alone? Wandering the dangerous and vacant streets of Pasadena? I sigh as I look down at the gleeful child in front of me.

"Alright, I can take you back to my apartment, young lady. But we must set some rules which you must precisely obey. Have I made myself clear?" I order firmly. The toddler looks up at me blankly as a groan and smack my palm to my face. Maybe I should dumb down my vernacular just a bit.

"Come with me," I say a bit more enthusiastically. The bright-eyed youngster giggles and jumps off the milk crate to follow, the sleeves of my oversized jacket flapping rapidly behind her. I sigh once more and hold out my hand to signal her to stop. Carefully I roll up the sleeves of the jacket and begin to walk.

I rub my eyes in exhaustion as I look at the three blocks ahead of me until we reach the apartment. I have barley been with this child for five minutes and she is already wearing me out. Boy, do I regret this. I jump in surprise to see the girl's tiny hand wrap around my finger. My natural instinct is to pull it away, but I decide to keep it there. Comfort is all this lonely child needs to have at the moment.