The hearty notes of a cello obstructed Sheldon's REM cycle.

"Leonard!" Sheldon groaned, "I believe this is far too early for you practice. Don't make me bust out the Roommate Agreement."

Sheldon sat up and remebered where he was. Coming a day early was the right decision. His body would need the twenty-four hours to adjust to the new environment. Stumbling out of bed he walked into the living room. He stopped in the entryway, dumbfounded.

Eli was poised infront of her board. A black dry erase marker was held between her teeth and her hands were grimy with its black ink. Sheldon resisted the urge to scrub it off. The sound of the cello came from the iHome perched on her desk.

"Oh, good morning, Sheldon," She smiled brightly, "What would you like for breakfast?" The light coming in through a nearby window reflected off of her hair, making it seem almost golden. She was wearing a very scant pair of shorts beneath an over-sized,Virginia is for Lovers t-shirt. Seeing her this way made the rise in Sheldon's serotonin levels nearly palpable.

"Sunday is…" He swallowed, "french toast day."

She raised her eyebrows in question, but opted to shrug it off with obvious nonchalance.

Sheldon tried not to think of her feminine curves as she walked away from him. Instead he cleared his throat, "If I may inquire, where did you procure such a shirt? Its size is not proportional to your frame."

"Oh, this?" Eli stopped cracking eggs and tugged on her top. "It's Mason's. He sometimes leaves his stuff over here."

Sheldon's heart fell. "Ah, so he is your boyfriend."

"Mmm, not exactly; we've gone out a couple of times. But we're not really in a relationship." Distress crossed her heart-shaped face and her nose scrunched up hiding her freckles. Oh, how he adored those freckles.

have engaged in coitus, thought Sheldon. Was that jealousy he detected? He obviously left her unsatisfied. What in Newton's name was he thinking? Sheldon took a second to calm his emotions with a deep breath and a moment of Kolinahr meditation.

"I see," he finally returned. "What does he do?" Sheldon tried to keep the conversation going.

"After he got his Masters, he decided he wanted to teach, so now he works at one of the private schools teaching American history."

Sheldon scoffed. A history major? Really? This Mason fellow was the Turkey Vulture of Academia, feeding its youth regurgitated facts. There was no way such an idiot could hold a candle to Eli's creativity or his pure brilliance.

"Well, you're certainly out of his league," Sheldon spat. Did he just say that?

"Thank you, Shelly. I think…"

Easy morning light flooded Eli's bedroom. Gently opening her eyes, dancing dust fairies floated before her. She smiled and sat up. The air that whooshed in and out of her lungs made her head spin. Sleep had never been that…comfortable.

Entirely rested, she folded back her quilt and set her feet on her plush rug. Eli wiggled her toes in the lavender shag. Tying her hair back in a messy bun, she walked over to her bedroom window.

The day was young and fresh. Her eyes rested upon a pair of chickadees in the nest on the other side of the glass. They nuzzled and flitted about the circumference of their nest, tending to a clutch of tiny speckled eggs. When one of them raised its tiny tufted head, he did not fly away from her stare, but regarded her curiously. It tipped its head back and forth, its chest proud and sure.

Smiling, Eli wrapped her arms around herself. She needed to write. With a bouncy step, Eli headed for her board.

Flipping open her laptop and uncapping her marker, Eli got to work. After being stuck for so long, the new rush of inspiration was positively cathartic.

She scribbled everything that came to mind. Snippets of words and images soon meshed together forming sentences. Sentences multiplied into paragraphs. Before long, the board was filled and the letters on her keypad ran the risk of being worn off.

Grinning, she leaned against the board gripping the marker in her mouth. Where was she going with this?

After reading, she contemplated. Her eyes scanned her work, picking out pieces of gold. It was all coming together. She had written about the birds, she had written about the mornign sunlight and the dust fairies. She had written of her dreams.

Iridescent eyes had filled her dreams; guiltless eyes, hiding nothing, beckoning her closer. Blue iris filled her with wonder and curiosity. Clear, omniscient depths left her yearning for their gaze.

Shuffling drew her out of her trance.

"Good morning, Sheldon." She beamed at him. His hair was dishevled and messy from sleep. She loved it that way. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Sunday is french toast day," odd, but not for Sheldon. She supressed the nagging want of her fingers to touch him. Eli headed to the kitchen.

As she walked away, she could feel his eyes following her.

"If I may inquire, where did you procure such a shirt? Its size is not proportional to your frame."

"Oh, this?" Eli's heart pounded, and she could feel the resulting heat in her face. Part of her wished she had put on more clothes. Yet, another wished he too, were wearing less. "It's Mason's. He sometimes leaves his stuff over here."

"Ah, so he is your boyfriend."

"Mmm, not exactly; we've um gone out a couple of times. But we're not really in a relationship." Divulging information about her relationship with Mason to Sheldon made her cringe. She peeked at Sheldon through her breakfast preparation. His eyes seemed to be roaming over her. Those translucent blue eyes that were so familiar. She could feel the time between them tick away.

Dipping bread into the eggs, she took a breath in a desperate attempt to regain her composure.

She should never had looked back to him. Everything came spinning wildly and crashing back into her mind…

Eli could not contain her excitement. She had waited until that night to give out the big news. Now, sitting around the dinner table, she was ready to burst.

"Aurelia, darling, please," her mother lifted a thin, manicured hand. Eli regarded her own bitten nails. "Stop jumping around and just say it."

"Mama," she began slowly, "I got it."

"Got what, dear?"

"My doctorate!" Dr. Aurelia Huntington. Countless sleepless nights and late night study sessions were all worth hearing those three words. She said them again. Doctor Aurelia Huntington.

"Wonderful! John, we are in the presence of a doctor."

"Great," murmured her father.

"Daddy, it's a PhD," Nothing. Eli's desperate eyes cast on her mother, but the woman had gone back to picking at her asparagus.

Tears welled in Eli's eyes. She dropped her fork. What was she missing? She had been at the top her class since the third grade, made the Dean's list, and had won several prestigious awards. But each was just a certificate, stuffed down in her bottom desk drawer next to the scrawl-filled notebooks that contained her soul.

Not that the Huntingtons were cold, Eli was so thankful to them for putting her through college. Yes, she'd come from a deep-rooted strain of "old money"; and; yes, her four older brothers were lawyers, a plastic surgeon, and a buisness professor. They all drove Beamers, or in Michael's case, a Ferrari. She puttered along in her navy blue ford focus. But the money didn't matter to her.

Writing was her soul, her escape. And never was she more comfortable than when she sat, thumbing the smooth pages of a book, inhaling its earthy scent. Something inside her just wished her parents would listen. If they would just read a couple of lines of her writing, they would see the person they were missing. But then again, a best-seller was a far-off dream; the Pulitzer, a fairy tale. She scoffed at herself. What a novel idea. Pun intended.

After dinner, Eli excused herself. Stepping into the streets of Pasadena, a long sigh escaped her lips. She missed her home, she missed Virginia. Five years ago, her parents and eldest brother decided to sell most of the acreage off the timeworn family farm. Now, in exchange for an upscale summer loft in sunny California, the sophisticated Huntigton estate could no longer support horses.

Another sigh and she felt the warm air relax her muscles. She promised herself long ago she would not be bitter. Eli walked down the street and let her mind run away.

In her mind, Eli was enjoying the ostentatious language of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, her favorite novel. Suddenly, the words were pulled from before her eyes. No longer was she curtseying to a dashing Fitzwilliam Darcy in the ballroom at Netherfield, but was plopped down on the dirty cement sidewalk. Across from her, another figure sat sprawled in a similar fashion.

"I'm so sorry, I must not have been watching." Eli hurried to grab her book and shove it back in her bag, her face erupted in flame.

"It is highly precarious to read while walking. You can't see where you are going." He stood and held out his hand. He pulled her looked up into his blue eyes.

"Uh-huh," she grinned when she saw what he held in his other hand, "and you weren't reading?" She motioned towards the comic book in his left hand. He had been caught. She laughed it off. "Doctor Aurelia Huntington,"

"Doctor Sheldon Cooper." He hadn't let go of her hand, so she shook it.

"Pleasure to meet you, Sheldon," She grinned up at him. His cerulean eyes smiled down at her.

OW!

Sheldon was sent tumbling back onto his buttocks.

"I'm so sorry, I must not have been watching," a petite, red-headed woman opposite him apologized. She was trying to replace a small volume in her bag.

"It is highly precarious to read while walking. You can't see where you are going." He hoisted himself, brushing off his pants. Thankfully his newest issue of Fantastic Four was unharmed. Now that he was sure of his comic's welfare, he offered a hand to the stranger. It was the chivalrous thing to do, but he winced at the contact. Where was his pocket Purell?

However, when his fingers wrapped around her delicate hand, he found the cool sensation electrifying. Fascinating…

"Uh-huh," she pointed at his purchase, "and you weren't reading?" Skimming, he wanted to clarify, but before he could open his mouth, she laughed. It was a light sound, like a bell. "Doctor Aurelia Huntington," Oh, he perked, Doctor.

"Doctor Sheldon Cooper," He looked down upon her face. Her eyes were green. No, not just green. They were emerald. Kelly green? Maybe jade.

"So what kind of work do you do?" They had started down the street, side-by-side

"Theoretical Physics." He paused before continuing, "I am employed at Caltech University where I conduct my research on String Theory. However, I've recently debated switching disciplines from bosonic string theory to heterotic string theory. And you?"

He let his gaze fall to where she was walking beside him. She was twisting a copper lock between her fingers.

"Well," she hesitated, "I'm a writer. But, I also work with publishers." She waved her hand as if it were no big deal.

Sheldon openly guffawed at the statement. Doctor, indeed.

"You are an English major?" He glared accusingly down at her.

"Yes," She defended. Her eyebrows furrowed. "Why?"

"So, you base your career, your livelihood, your source of income on the impractical and imaginary?"

"Impractical!" Her jaw dropped at her loquacious companion, "I believe Albert Einstein once said that imagination will get you anywhere."

"So would the TARDIS, but you don't see of those flying around, do you?" The Doctor Who reference flew over her head. Oh boy.

"You're just as enveloped in the imaginary as I am." It came out as almost a snort.

"You know nothing about me." Sheldon was livid. Who was this woman to undermine his intellectual authority?

"Well, you're reading a comic book. The Superman insignia is plastered across your chest." She had the audacity to reach across and tug lightly on his t-shirt. Sheldon would not submit to this physical brutality.

"That is science fiction. It has the possibility of a legitimate premise." He huffed, stood straighter, and put out his bottom lip. "I study the complex inner workings of the universe. My time is not wasted on the abstracts of literary theory, which is, essentially a bunch of of hokum."

"Hokum? I taught myself to read when I was three years old! Since then, I've written dissertations on Transcendentalist Philosophy and Women of Dissent; I've lectured on Romanticism and Feminism. Psychoanalysis is second nature to me. I've read The Great Gatsby so many times, I could probrably recite it. I spent a month in London studying Shakespeare. And you say I don't study the ways of the universe?"

Sheldon, in his expanse of knowledge, could not find a rebuttal. Never before had his extensive knowledge of the sciences and expansive collection of little ditties failed him. The muscles in his face spasmed. He, Sheldon Lee Cooper, was evenly matched. He looked her in the eye. Definitely, emerald….