NOTES: Okay, so the combination of boring thesis revision plus attempts to keep self from nail-biting obviously equals spamfiction! Who knew? Thanks so much to everyone who commented :)

DISCLAIMER: My lack of LWD ownership...let me show you it.


FILE UNDER: messy break ups, top ten embarrassing situations (#4)

Jarrod leaves messages. She listens to them and cries.

Jarrod sends these long, impassioned emails. She reads them and cries.

Jarrod forgot his old red sweatshirt with the picture of the vinyl record on the front. She wears it and cries.

She spends a lot of time on the couch, watching TV, and she cries every time two people get together. She cries even more when they split up.

This goes on for four days. On the fifth day...

"Mom!" she thumps her fists against the door. "Mom – open the door!"

"I think it would be good for you to get out for a while," her mom replies, slightly muffled.

"I don't want to get out – I want to get in," she explains, this time slapping the flat of her palm against the door.

"You've been moping around the house for days. Try something new – I really think it'll be good for you," her mom says firmly.

Emily gapes at the door. Trust her mother to think her broken heart is just a bad habit that she needs to snap out of.

"I don't have any shoes!" she calls back finally – not that she expects that to make much of a difference.

"Wait a minute!" her mom says. A few seconds later, she hears the sound of a window opening, and Dimi's voice drifts down to her.

"Look out below!" he yells, and hurls one of her trainers onto the front lawn. Emily scurries over to pick it up. With perfect timing, Dimi flings the other trainer right onto the sidewalk, in front of Derek Venturi, who bends down and proffers it to her.

She hurries over to him. "Thanks," she says sheepishly, taking it. She drops it on the ground and pushes her foot in. Then, since Derek's just standing there, she says, "Would you mind...?" and she puts a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she gets the back of her shoe up past her heel.

"Thanks," she says again.

Derek shrugs. "So..."

"Don't ask," she says.

"I wasn't going to," he says, and she blinks. He considers her for a moment. "How about we don't talk about it on the way to Smelly Nelly's?"

She thinks about it. "Okay," she says.

When they enter, Sheldon bustles over.

"Wow, Emily – have you lost a lot of weight?" he asks, and looks confused, "...and height?"

She's wearing Jarrod's old sweatshirt that goes down to her knees, and a too-big pair of sweatpants. She looks like she's melting into a puddle. Shouldn't it be obvious that she's lost her heart (...and her fashion sense?).

Obvious enough that it doesn't have to be mentioned at all?

"Hi, Sheldon," she sighs, and stakes out a table in the corner. She doesn't have any money, but it's okay because Sheldon gives her all his wrong orders, so she has an inexhaustible stream of vanilla almond coffees, and strawberry banana milkshakes, and even a choco-waffle with peanuts on the side.

She spends the next couple of hours listlessly stirring the remains of her coffee/milkshake/peanuts and watching the comings and goings of other customers. It's not so bad, she decides. She might as well be miserable here as miserable anywhere else.

The next day, she brings her purse.


FILE UNDER: reality check, history repeating (see Truman/Casey notes)

The horrible achy emptiness doesn't go away. Emily doesn't think it ever will entirely. But it is easier to distract herself in Smelly Nelly's. Over the next couple of days, she starts to notice little things. The girl with the screamingly obvious crush on Derek, who always sits in his section and smiles too widely at him and stacks her plates and cutlery in neat ready-to-collect piles when she's finished. The two twelve year olds who speak broken English but are fluent in cheat-codes. Marina, the waitress who hates Sheldon and begs Derek not to be put on the same shifts as him.

She starts making notes in her file folder. It's just how she works.

Anyway, making notes slows down her coffee consumption and makes her feel less aware of how conspicuously alone she is.

Sheldon sits with her during his breaks, which also helps. He talks about his campaign – which honestly, doesn't seem to be founded on much more than the genetic desire to Shlep all the way to the top.

They're in the middle of discussing whether the P-Pipes should play a medley of Coldspray hits during Sheldon's speech (to highlight his popular appeal) or whether they should stick to 'O Canada' (to underline his classic, upstanding qualities) when her cell phone rings.

She picks it up, but when she sees the name on the screen, she puts it down immediately.

They wait in silence until it stops ringing. Emily stares at a coffee cup ring on the table.

Sheldon breaks the silence. "Maybe you should talk to him," he offers, awkwardly. "I mean...it seems like he really cares about you, and you...you seem miserable without him."

She wordlessly shakes her head. Maybe she could, if she was still the Emily Davis who was happy to get a 'S'up?' from a cool guy – the girl who was happy with what she had, and took everything else as a bonus. But, the thing is – she expects...more...now.

"It wouldn't be the same," she says eventually. And that's true. Second chances only work out if you give them without reservations. And sometimes not even then, as her Truman and Casey notes prove.

When she listens to her messages later, Jarrod finishes by saying, "If I have to call you every day for ten years, I will. Please, Emily, give me a chance."

He sounds just as heartbroken as she feels, and strangely, she does believe his apologies. She even believes him when he says he loves her.

It's just...not the kind of love she thought it was.

It doesn't surprise her when the calls stop a week later.


FILE UNDER: Don't ask, don't tell (cross-reference with ex-boyfriends: Jarrod Jackson, Derek Venturi, Evan Smythe, Sheldon Shlepper)

She lies awake at night wearing his sweatshirt, and feels alone. She remembers how they used to curl up together, Jarrod's fingers in her hair, his leg over hers.

She'd worry that she's never going to be touched like that by another guy ever again (because clearly, no-one's ever going to fit so perfectly with her)...if she wasn't so completely sure she's never going to want anyone else to ever touch her.

So she lies awake and makes a list of questions she's never going to ask her ex-boyfriends, and goes through it in order of descending importance until she finally falls asleep.

a) Jarrod Jackson

1) Was she pretty?

2) Was she prettier than me?

3) If you really felt the way you said you did about me – how could you do that to me? I couldn't.

4) Would you ever have told me, if I hadn't figured it out?

5) Do you feel even a little bit as bad as I do right now?

b) Derek Venturi

1) Did you know how you felt about Casey when we got together?

2) Did you really like me like that – or did you just like pretending that you did?

3) If you didn't feel the way you pretend you don't feel (save it, everyone knows) about Casey...do you think we might have had a chance?

4) Okay, so...what happened with Casey? Obviously you broke up, but...details?

c) Evan Smythe

1) My mp3 player? Were you trying to make me break up with you?

2) And did you take my charm bracelet?

3) If you did – WHY?

d) Sheldon Shlepper

1) What the hell would you have done if I had said 'yes'?

The weird thing is...she already knows most of the answers. It doesn't stop her wanting to ask the questions though.

The even weirder thing is...she really wants to talk to Casey about this stuff. Casey would understand at least some of it, she knows.

But she doesn't call her.


FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (Shlepper-ness)

Her parents have this crazy idea that Bad, Soulcrushing Heartbreak should be seen as an opportunity in disguise. They have this optimistic hope that it might spur Emily to work hard, or become a more determined person, or pursue her dreams (or...identify some dreams at least) or something.

Yeah. If being best friends with Casey the last couple of years hasn't upped her achievement levels, Emily doesn't see how this is going to.

Except...when she mentions this to Sheldon, he frowns and says, "But you are doing something productive."

She stares blankly at him.

"Starting a future Premier on his road to greatness?" he clarifies, as if it should be obvious.

"I am?" she asks –before deciding suddenly, "I am."

Why not?

When she uses the 'future Premier' line on her parents (honestly, just to see their reactions), her mom frowns and says, "We were thinking more along the lines of you going to the library every once in a while."

"Future Premier?" her dad asks. "Is that the fool out front with the jugglers?"


FILE UNDER: awkward moments (McDonald-Venturi section)

There really isn't time to go to the library...even if Emily had wanted to go. Being promoted from Sheldon's unofficial advice-giver to official advisor means there's not a lot of spare time.

In Smelly Nelly's, whenever she's finished with her personal file folder, she updates Sheldon's daily timetable (she said she'd be his personal advisor – she never promised she'd be Casey). She tags along when filming begins, and 'personal advisor' suddenly translates into 'leash holder for whatever animals Sheldon's added to the menagerie'. She attends what Sheldon seems to believe are 'strategy meetings' in Derek's house – that closely resemble what other people might call 'mealtimes.'

"I think it's nice. The team that eats together, defeats together," Sheldon says.

Emily tries not to notice how Derek eats with his head down, or how quiet Nora is, or how George keeps finding questions to ask Sheldon about the campaign.

Or how there's plenty of space for both her and Sheldon at the table because Casey isn't there.

The problem is, she's good at noticing.


"Awkward, huh?" Sheldon says when they're alone in Derek's room (Derek is currently trying to get Edwin out of the mascot suit).

"What?"

Sheldon stares at her. "The tension?"

"Tension?" she tries.

"Wow – you really didn't notice?" he asks. "Nora? Derek? The fact that no-one will mention the C-word?"

She sighs. "The first rule of Derek and Casey is - you don't talk about Derek and Casey." It's the closest thing to an explanation she's got. And it says it all, without saying anything at all. Plausible deniability – it's the second rule of Derek and Casey.

Sheldon nods as he reads her tone. "I guess the family that dates together...doesn't always stay together," he says.

"I guess not," Emily says quietly.

"It's a good thing Derek doesn't plan to run for office," Sheldon offers, thoughtfully. "With a history like that."

Because it's Sheldon, she feels compelled to warn him. "You know, Derek's kind of...upset about it. The Derek version of upset," she clarifies, "so I wouldn't" –

"I get it," he interrupts her, with a funny half-smile, "You know, usually my manifesto goes something like, 'vote for me and I won't bore you with my policies, and hey – free pizza?'"

She remembers. And she suddenly gets the extended Shlepper press conference. She smiles down at the floor, shaking her head.

"What?" Sheldon asks.

"Nothing," she says, before finally looking up. "Just...you're a good friend, Sheldon."

"Yeah," he says, looking at her. It's a beat too slow, reminding her that Derek and Casey aren't the only ones with a history here. So she turns away and picks up the camera on Derek's desk.

It's strange looking through the lens. It feels like there's a kind of distance between them, even as Emily moves closer and zooms in so that Sheldon fills the frame.

It's kind of interesting. So when Derek comes in, giant mouse head under his arm, she keeps filming. It's like...she's not Emily – she's a fly on the wall. Which makes it a little more interesting even when the subject under discussion is how much money Edwin deserves for being Sheldon's 'Mousecot'.

So, when she goes to hand back the camera to Derek and he shrugs and says, "Keep it, if you want. It's just a backup" –

She does.


FILE UNDER: break-ups a-z, ancient history (mom)

Sheldon's campaign is the stuff that those 'Funniest Home Videos' programs are made from. But she also films Dimi watching cartoons, and her dad looking for his keys. It's partly that fly on the wall feeling. It's mostly...well, what else has she got to do?

She's part way through filming her mom fold laundry when a flash of red catches her eye and her heart starts to pound. She abruptly sets the camera down on the table.

"Mom!"

"Hmm?" her mom says, folding Jarrod's sweatshirt, which Emily promptly pulls away from her.

"You washed it," she says accusingly, holding it up to her nose. It smells like fabric softener.

"I had to," her mom says, peacefully continuing to sort clothes. "You've worn it every night for the last two weeks. That thing was ready to walk out of here. It was disgusting."

"I wanted to keep it." She blinks hard, and stares at the sweatshirt. It smelled like him. Like him and her, and okay, she'd done the good, self-respecting thing and dumped him, but it was...it was nice to wear it in bed and breathe in him-and-her and – pretend.

"Well now you can keep it – without offending other people," her mom says briskly.

The thing about her mom is that...she doesn't take Emily seriously. Which...most of the time, Emily doesn't take herself too seriously, so it's fine. Usually, she's all for poking gentle fun at the overwrought drama.

It's not like she pulls this down in the dumps stuff every other week. She's not Casey. Shouldn't her mom get that this is kind of a big deal? But instead, her mom has this half-amused look on her face, eyebrows raised – the same kind of look Emily's pretty sure she wears when listening to Casey's-crises-of-the-moment.

"You don't get it," she says.

Her mom stops folding. "Oh, Em," she says, sounding even more amused, if that's possible, "I don't know how to break it to you...but baby, you've got nothing on me."

Emily frowns.

"When I broke up with Con Thacker" –

Con Thacker?

"I sat around the house reading magazines and tearing up every picture I could find of happy couples."

Okay, so she's a sucker for gossip, even when it's stale. "Really?" she asks.

Her mom nods.

"So, what happened?" she asks.

Her mom reaches out and puts her hand on Emily's cheek. Still amused looking, but sympathetic too.

"I got over it," she says simply.


FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Derek Venturi) and ongoing issues (Casey McDonald)

Her mom doesn't even seem to register Emily's bad mood, so she goes and sulks outside. It's the normal response to basically having a roll of scotch tape shoved at her broken heart, when she really wanted sympathy. And possibly ice-cream.

She sits on the sidewalk and films the sky and the ground and the houses, until she sees Derek walking home and she films that instead, until he's right in front of her. Then she lowers the camera.

"Whatcha doin'?" he asks.

"Throwing a pity party," she says wryly.

He swings himself down next to her.

"What are you doing?"

"Gatecrashing."

"Uh-uh," she says, and gestures at herself, "You must be at least this broken up to get a party invite."

She immediately regrets it – it's a clear breach of rule #1 of Derek-and-Casey. But Derek just shrugs and says, "I think it only counts as a break up if both of you agree you're going out in the first place."

The words are light, but he stares straight ahead, careful not to meet her eyes.

"Harsh," she observes mildly.

He doesn't respond and they sit there quietly for a while, until Sheldon shows up with the streamers.


FILE UNDER: ex-boyfriends (Sheldon Shlepper) and ongoing issues (Shlepper-ness)

Unlike everyone else, Sheldon is sympathetic.

But in a Sheldon way.

"You know," she says conversationally, "When you said you wanted to take my mind off my heartbreak with shopping...I didn't realize you meant shopping for you."

"I respect your opinion," Sheldon says, "And I have to exploit every advantage if I want to beat Jimbo Patterson. Sheldon Shlepper: forward thinking policies, and forward thinking fashion." He frowned down at the pants draped over his arm. "Do you think the blue checked shirt goes with these?"

It's not all bad. As a thank you, Sheldon insists they stop for coffee and a dessert – his treat.

Of course, Emily ends up lending him twenty dollars to pay for it.


FILE UNDER: break-ups a-z, ancient history (dad)

"Sara Walters," her dad says, half-smiling.

"So," Emily says, pointing the camera at him, "Who broke up with who?"

He sighs. "I broke up with her."

"And why?" The camera is great – it's like Emily's a news-reporter...only her stories are interesting.

Her dad scratches the back of his neck and mumbles, "She...didn't like KISS."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"She didn't like KISS. They're a band," he clarifies sheepishly.

"She didn't like KISS," Emily repeats slowly. "You broke up with your first serious girlfriend because she didn't like a band? That is...that is the dumbest reason I've ever heard for breaking up with someone."

"Yeah, well...what can I say? I was an idiot. All guys are knuckleheads at that age." He pauses. "But...we grow up. Eventually. And we get smarter. And in the end – we learn to appreciate the right girls. The best ones."

He gives her an awkward smile, and she smiles back, touched.


"–teacher really inspired me," Sheldon says, speaking to Derek's camera. "And I think that by talking to her, you'll really get the essence of Sheldon Shlepper."

He rings the bell again, and the door finally opens. They all get a brief glimpse of a shocked face, before they're suddenly staring at the door again.

"Mrs Goodwin?" Sheldon calls. "Hi! It's me, Sheldon Shlepper!"

"Go away!"

Sheldon frowns. "Remember, you used to teach me in grade ten, before I moved away? I said that when I came back, I'd come and visit." He turns and faces Emily. "And here's something you need to know...Sheldon Shlepper doesn't break a promise."

He maintains eye-contact and Emily tries to look inspired, in case Derek decides to use this (obviously in a severely edited form). There's something...sweet about the way he says it, and she smiles at him.

The silence is broken by Derek asking, "Does Sheldon Shlepper break a restraining order?" as he peers through the side window.


FILE UNDER: post break-up (Jarrod Jackson), life goes on

She wears the sweatshirt to bed again, once – but it isn't the same, it doesn't smell like him anymore. So in the end, she gets up and puts it at the back of a drawer. It's harder to get to sleep without it, the next few days. But Emily does her best, and puts depuffing eye gel in her bag, because Derek has a habit of cutting to her sometimes when they're filming.

Call her shallow, but she doesn't want to wear her broken heart all over her face.

Then Sheldon hits on the idea of maximizing the Cute Overload potential of his campaign and finding a home for homeless dog Fletch (Sheldon Shlepper: animal activist). Emily's arms almost get pulled out of their sockets while they pound the pavements looking for someone willing to take a chance on an enormous golden retriever/donkey hybrid with an insatiable appetite.

They finally do find the perfect family to take on Fletch (hyperactive kids, incredibly relaxed parents), and Sheldon turns to face the camera and PSAs over the sound of shrieking children, "I've always believed there's a perfect match for everyone – and lucky for Fletch, it uh, it looks like I was right."

Something about Sheldon's words, combined with the jumping children and Fletch chasing his own tail makes that one kind of worth the arm strain.

Plus suddenly, sleeping soundly at night is no longer an issue.


FILE UNDER: break-ups a-z, awkward moments (McDonald-Venturi section)

It's kind of addictive, being the one behind the camera. It's like...it gives her the authority to ask the questions she wants to ask. And for some reason, it makes people more inclined to answer her – even people who aren't totally on board with the interview thing. Case in point –

"So why did you break up?"

Lizzie keeps writing. "Apathy," she says briefly.

Emily considers this. It's a new one. "And who broke up with who?"

Lizzie's pen moves faster. "I don't...I mean, it wasn't like that. We just kind of drifted apart. It was – it was mutual."

"Yeah," Edwin scoffs. "Says you. I'm the one who had the guy crying on my shoulder. Face it, Liz, you destroyed him."

Emily perks up. This sounds way more interesting.

Lizzie glares at Edwin. "I did not! It wasn't that big a deal." She looks straight at the camera for the first time. "Why do break-ups have to be such a big deal? Why does everyone always make them such a big deal? Why can't – why can't it just be 'we dated and we didn't work out and we decided we're okay not being together'? Why does everyone have to be mad, or sad, or not here, or dumb about it? Why is it always such a big stupid deal?"

There's an awkward silence that's broken when Edwin swallows and forces a laugh. "A direct quote there from Lizzie McDonald – guy crusher." He taps his fingers against his leg and continues, "Now, my first break-up couldn't have been more different" –

"Really?" Lizzie interrupts. "Because the way I remember it, the girl did the dumping in that case too."

Emily wonders why – since Edwin's just clearly demonstrated his ability to salvage a situation.

Derek's dad tells her a story about being asked to a dance by a girl he had a huge crush on. When Emily asks him who ended up breaking up with who, he frowns and says, "I think her boyfriend broke us up, actually. Literally, now that I think about it."

Nora on the other hand always seems to be in the middle of something important and "– can't right now, Emily." She always smiles, but there's something not exactly right about it. Even though she seems apologetic, it's like she's talking to a client – kind of...professional sounding.

Of course, it might be that Emily's usually standing next to Derek when she asks.


FILE UNDER: epiphanies (see 'translating Casey to English' section), weird fashion trends (retro: hot or not?)

Honestly, she's a little embarrassed it takes her so long to figure it out. After all – she's gone clothes shopping with Sheldon. She still has scratches on her arms from the time Rover hauled her through the bushes. Derek has footage of her clutching Sheldon's red binder to her chest and staring at him like he's humanity's last hope.

But the day she finally decides she can't continue ignoring the her/Sheldon weirdness...is when she's watching him talk to Karen Jacobs.

It's like being back in high school. Karen Jacobs is even wearing her cheerleader outfit. Okay, it's a little more...stretched looking than it used to be, given that Karen seems to have put on a few pounds, but still.

Of course, it's also nothing like being back in high school, because Karen Jacobs has her hand on Sheldon's arm and she's batting her eyelashes at him, and saying things like, "Sheldon, this is just...amazing. I can't believe you pulled all this together. You're so – dedicated."

Just like that, watching Karen Jacobs squeeze Sheldon Shlepper's arm, Emily has what Casey used to call 'an epiphany.' She ends up fumbling the leash off her wrist and giving it to Marti and walking away.

She waits until she's at a safe distance before she sits down on the sidewalk and contemplates said epiphany. It's every bit as awkward as the word itself is. But she only gets a few minutes before Derek's suddenly in front of her, still filming. He doesn't offer any explanation.

"Shouldn't you be filming the rest of Karen's interview?" she asks.

He shrugs. "I think I got the basics." He pauses, then amends, "The very basics."

"I don't see what she has to do with Sheldon's campaign, anyway," Emily can't stop herself from saying.

Derek helpfully explains, "It shows that Sheldon can net hot babes. Automatic guy vote."

"Yeah – except Karen Jacobs hated Sheldon's guts in high school. I remember being in the girls' bathroom once, and hearing her talking to all her friends about what a loser he was and how she couldn't believe he actually had a girlfriend. I pushed right through her personal pep squad to make sure she saw me and felt embarrassed."

"And was she?"

"She would have been – if she'd known who I was," Emily says. She shakes her head. "But what's changed? Since when is Sheldon cool?"

She doesn't mean it in a mean way. Just – 'cool' has never been one of Sheldon's defining characteristics.

"He's not," Derek says, and sits next to her, camera in his lap. "He's retro."

"Retro?" Emily repeats.

"Yeah. He reminds Karen Jacobs of high school - a simpler time, when keeners stayed at the bottom of the social heap, and she ruled the school with an iron pom-pom."

Emily contemplates this. Filtered through a haze of nostalgia, Karen Jacobs' behavior becomes understandable. "I guess that makes sense," she admits.

There's a silence. Derek shifts like he's going to get up, but Emily doesn't move.

"So...why are we still here?" Derek asks.

Emily stares at her feet. "I just...watching Karen and Sheldon, I kind of – realized something."

Suddenly, Derek starts fiddling with the camera. "Hang on...just a minute." He raises it and prompts, "Okay – and go! You realized..."

Emily does not need video evidence of this epiphany, so she says, "No. No, it's...okay. Really."

Derek lowers the camera for an instant. He fixes her with an irritated look and says, exasperated, "You realized..." before hoisting the camera again.

She shuts her eyes tight and confesses, "I'm a Shleppette."

When she opens her eyes, the camera is in Derek's lap again, and he's staring at her in complete confusion. "You're a what now?"

"A Shleppette," she repeats.

"O-kay," Derek says.

She sighs. "You know, those girls that Sheldon hired to follow him around and...announce him?"

"Oh, yeah..."

"I know Sheldon's speeches off by heart. I've put together a functional yet fashionable wardrobe for him. I've spent the last two days holding his goat! Why else would I do that if I'm not a Shleppette?"

What other explanation could there be for her sudden over- involvement in all things Sheldon?

"You're not a Shleppette," Derek says, as if he actually believes it.

Emily blinks as a horrible thought enters her head. "Great. You're right." The tone of her voice suggests that it's anything but great. "Sheldon paid those girls to hang around with him! I pay Sheldon!" She pauses for a moment as she remembers the twenty dollars she gave Sheldon, and the whole, awful truth dawns upon her. "I'm beyond a Shleppette. I'm the uber-Shleppette. There are no depths to which I will not Shlep!"

Derek considers her. "We should probably look into getting you a uniform or something."