Chapter Four

People had, over the years, tried to explain to Sheldon that sometimes, people did things for absolutely no reason. Sure, Sheldon did understand that life needed whimsy, but he sure as hell didn't understand why.

"Sheldon, there isn't a reason why there isn't a reason for some things," Penny had said to him once, exasperated.

"Really? Then is there a reason why there isn't a reason why there isn't a reason – "

"Sweetie? There are at least twenty different reasons why you should shut up right now, and they all end with you in intense pain."

So, at the end of that particular conversation, Sheldon still did not understand why people did things "just so," or, more specifically, why his last assistant, Celia, was calling him up "to, y'know, chat."

"So, Sheldon, the reason why I called you aside, how've you been doing?"

"Just fine, thank you," there was a pause, and Sheldon heard Penny's voice in his head saying, "You see, Sheldon, this is where you ask her about her life!" "Have you been doing satisfactorily yourself?"

"Great! School's been brutal, but fun. The classes I'm taking this term are pretty interesting, and…" One thing Sheldon had learnt about small talk over the years was that if you asked the appropriate questions and made appropriate interjections at appropriate times, you could pretty much get away with not paying attention at all.

"But that's enough about me; tell me more about how you've been doing!" Celia chirped brightly. Just great, if Celia was as self-indulgent as the average person he would have been able to space out for a longer period of time. "I've read your latest paper, it's very fascinating. And actually much easier to understand than your usual work, I must admit." Celia enjoyed reading his papers, but unfortunately, did not have quite the aptitude to fully appreciate his papers and often complained they were far too complex for a non-expert.

"My God-daughter read through it before I published it and she had a lot of questions, so I added in some clarification for her benefit," Sheldon explained, "She's a remarkably bright girl, but young, and somewhat inexperienced."

"Your God-daughter? The little girl in the picture you used to keep framed in your desk?" Celia asked, "Adelle Hofstadter, was it?" Celia's memory was far from eidetic, but she definitely had an eye for detail. It was part of the reason why Sheldon appreciated her so much as an assistant.

"Yes, her name is Adelle. She's only sixteen, but she's already in her second year at Caltech. She hopes to be a Cosmologist in the future. I've been taking an interest in her academic development, her father is really not equipped to help her realise her few potential, which is unfortunate." It was true. Penny had told Sheldon that Adelle often considered contacting her godfather by email or the sort before he returned to California, but was too in awe of him to do so. As much as Sheldon understood her great admiration for him, he couldn't help but think that if he had had a hand in her education a long time ago, she would be far more accomplished.

"Well, you definitely sound proud," Celia laughed. "You sound happy, too. I hadn't thought that was possible."

"What do you mean?" Sheldon asked, furrowing his brow, "I sound perfectly normal."

"Perhaps I should correct myself. You don't sound – completely pissed off. I'm glad," Celia admitted, "I was afraid you weren't on such good terms with your friends back in Pasadena."

"That's preposterous," he said dismissively, "I never sound, as you so choose to put it, pissed off. And I've been on perfectly good terms with my friends since I left."

"Which explains why you didn't visit them for thirteen years, why you guys barely communicated, and why they visited you fewer times than I have fingers over seventeen years," Celia pointed out. If that girl didn't have such a talent for Environmental Geochemistry, she would have made a brilliant lawyer.

"I've explained to you countless times, I felt that my social life was distracting me from making any contributions to theoretical Physics significant enough to win me a Nobel Prize, and my friends chose to respect my wishes," Sheldon spoke with exaggerated patience.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," Sheldon could practically sense Celia rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. Seriously, the girl stops working for you and thinks she can start getting sassy. What a state today's youth is in. "So, how's Adelle's mother?"

"Penny?" Sheldon asked, puzzled, "Why do you ask?"

"Yeah, Penny. She's the one you're always talking about, right?" Celia asked. "Like that one time when you were sick and tried to get me to sick that ridiculous children's lullaby to you, and I didn't want to, and you were all, 'but Penny always sings Soft Kitty to me!' And that other time, when you wanted a lift to a museum like, twenty miles out of town and I couldn't take you, you kept saying 'but Penny always gives me a lift when I need one!' You used to say I looked a lot like her too. Hey, is she the one you said you dated once?"

"No, that's Amy Farrah Fowler," Sheldon corrected absent-mindedly, too distracted by what she said to put up a more substantial argument.

"Never heard of her," Celia shrugged. "But you used to have a thing for her, right?"

"I never had a thing for her. My friend Leonard had a thing for her. Leonard always had a thing for her," Sheldon said, enunciating very clearly, "And she is married to my friend Leonard."

Celia was silent for a moment, and Sheldon thought for a moment that he had been forceful enough to end the conversation. "Oh," she said finally, "So that's how it is."

XXX

When Adelle was twelve years old, there was only one thing she wanted with all her heart, and that was to go to college. Not go to college in the future, most children wanted that, though they probably didn't think of it as a huge priority when they were twelve. Adelle Hofstadter wanted to go to college Right. Now.

It's not like the other kids in school were mean to her or anything. Her mother still dropped her off at school so all the guys spent more time asking creepily personal questions about her mother than making fun of her for being a nerd. The girls thought she talked a little funny, but she was quiet and occasionally helped them with their homework, and it wasn't like she actually was a threat or anything, so they left her alone too. It just really, really sucked growing up intellectually before all her peers and not to mention, most of her teachers. (Occasionally, something would happen like an English teacher calling Africa a country and she would be horribly tempted to just strangle herself right there and then and just end it all.)

She didn't want the normal life her parents meant for her, but they weren't buckling on the issue. It wasn't like staying in high school (yeah, she was twelve, she was in high school, was that going to be an issue?) any longer than she had to was going to make her any more normal. She didn't even have friends there. Her best friends in the world were her parents, Uncle Raj, Uncle Howard, Aunt Bernadette and Deepa, and the majority of them worked at? Surprise, the university! Evidently, if her parents wanted to save her social life, they'd send her straight to college.

Going to high school did mean that she had a lot of free time. The homework wasn't particularly demanding, and she didn't actually have to study for her classes. Not to mention she didn't exactly participate in a plethora of extra-curricular activities. This really meant more time for her to sit at home in her room pouring over Cosmology Journals, papers on Quantum Mechanics, and anything and everything her Godfather wrote. (In hindsight, it may have been her obsession with her godfather that led her father to decide she needed "more constructive" ways to pass the time that college could offer her.)

More time to sit around and read also meant more time to ask questions, and that was part of the reason why one evening she entered her father's study holding her godfather's autobiography.

"Hey, Delly!" her father beamed. He was probably the only person in the world who could get away with calling her that.

"Hello father," she said, sitting down on one of the chairs opposite the desk. It was as if she was meeting with the Principal for deviant behaviour. "How was work today?"

"Not bad, I made some interesting headway with my research into supersolids and optical lattices," he told her, shrugging. "Perhaps I could show you some of my data, if you're interested."

Adelle wasn't really that into experimental Physics, but hey, Physics was Physics, and anything was interesting when you were forced to complete routine Integration questions as part of a rather optimistically named "Advanced Placement" Calculus class. "I'd love that, father," she said, smiling. "But there was something I wanted to talk to you about, actually."

"Sure, go ahead."

"I was just re-reading Godfather's autobiography, and there was this tiny section about an Arctic Expedition," Adelle said, examining her father's reaction very closely. One summer, her paternal grandmother, who was rather fond of her, had invited her to visit New Jersey for two weeks. Adelle had spent most of her time there locked in her Beverly Hofstadter's extensive library with her grandmother's books and journals on psychiatry. The immediate slump of her father's shoulders and his worried frown did not go unnoticed by her. "There really isn't much there, just that it was unsuccessful, but laid the groundwork for a lot of later major work. It mentions you, Uncle Howard and Uncle Raj went with him."

"We did go," her father nodded, his eyes getting slightly shifty as they often did when he was feeling awkward about something, "But like the book says, the trip was a failure. Your Godfather was very upset. No one really likes to talk about it."

"That's what I thought was strange," Adelle said, trying to keep her voice collected, "That he still seemed upset about it. He talked about it very begrudgingly, I felt. I mean, even if it was a failure, if it eventually led to his winning a Nobel Prize, wouldn't he have gotten over it?"

"Well… Your Godfather has always expected a lot from himself," he explained, wringing his hands, "I'm not surprised he's still sore about it."

Huh. So much for that, then. "Father, did Godfather do anything wrong?" Adelle asked carefully.

"What do you mean?" her father's voice revealed an equal amount of caution.

"Well, we never visit him, and we almost never call, except for during birthdays or holidays. He's never come over either," Adelle pointed out matter-of-factly.

Her father was silent for a very long time, and Adelle let the seconds pass between them. Finally, he said, "Alright. I'd never tell this to any other twelve year old, but you're a very smart girl, and very mature, so I want you to hear this. Your Godfather has always been a very… particular man. He likes things exactly the way he wants it. That makes him a very good researcher, because he's always very determined to get the results he wants. However, when he's under stress, it can become… unpleasant." He paused.

"I understand," Adelle nodded, thinking her father was checking if she was paying attention.

"When we went on the Arctic expedition with him, he was very upset at our initial unsuccessful data, and that made him rather difficult to live with. Throwing in the fact that we were cold, and alone, and we were at the freaking North pole…" Leonard trailed off, noticing his daughter was staring at him, "We fabricated successful results using an electric can opener," he finished finally.

Adelle gasped at him, "But that's terrible! I can't – did he ever forgive you?" It was a stupid question, evidently, if he had agreed to be his daughter's godfather, he must have forgiven his best friend to a certain extent.

"He did. But it was difficult," her father sighed. "That's why we don't visit. Sheldon left because he realised he was getting older, and if he wanted a Nobel Prize, he had to work twice as hard as before. Nobel prizes aren't awarded posthumously, you see. He decided that his social life was holding him back, so once a job opportunity at MIT opened up, he upped and left. We felt really guilty about what happened – I still do. I couldn't stop him from winning his Nobel Prize again."

It was always a strange feeling, for a child to realise she was smarter than her parents, yet it was nothing compared to realising that her parents, and the adults she'd grown to think of as her best friends, were not perfect, or completely moral people, and that they had made mistakes in the past. But her father had told her what happened – he could have lied, or deflected, but he felt guilty enough about what he did to want her to learn from it. She always thought of him differently, from then on, though she could never quite say in what way, but, for a long time, she never stopped thinking of him as a good person.

XXX

Sheldon had barely gotten off the phone with Celia for five minutes when he received a text from Adelle: Hey Sheldon, need a place to crash. Mind if I come over?

He'd been looking forward to a perfectly good Sunday afternoon on his own, possibly with the second re-imagining of Battlestar Galactica, but Adelle made for a pretty good television-watching companion. That and he felt she should be rewarded for being one of the few teenagers in America who still texted in full sentences and without annoying abbreviations. His reply: Request for sanctuary accepted.

She arrived less than ten minutes later, a book under her arm. She wasn't holding any keys and her cheeks were slightly flushed, so Sheldon deduced that she had walked over. "Thanks for letting me come over at such a short noticed," Adelle said, her voice somehow resigned, "My parents are fighting."

Sheldon winced at the memory, "Perfectly understandable, I remember their fights. It was like Mt. Vesuvius meeting Hurricane Katrina. I could never stand the screaming."

Adelle's eyes widened in shock, "My parents used to scream at each other?" she sounded incredulous. "They just get into petty squabbles about the stupidest things until it reaches a point where they realise they can't continue the argument without insulting the other party, and mother marches off to the bedroom and father locks himself in the study. Alternatively, one of them leaves the house until dinner, whereupon they ignore each other until the next morning. I hate being in the house when that happens."

"I find that hard to believe, as in the past the smallest things could trigger a high decibel shouting match between your parents," Sheldon told Adelle, as she seated herself next to his spot on his new couch, as her mother used to.

Adelle snorted, "I wish they would just yell at each other already. All this passive-aggressive behaviour is just embarrassingly childish." She sighed, and then said, "I hope I'm not bothering you. I brought a book, in case you were planning on working or something." Adelle looked at the cover of the book she was carrying, and immediately made a face. "Oh. Plato's The Republic. I knew I shouldn't have just grabbed the first book I saw."

"Plato's The Republic? I didn't know you were interested in Philosophy," Sheldon said, as he selected the box-set of Battlestar from his neatly arranged collection. "I was going to watch the latest re-imagining of Battlestar Galactica. You're welcome to join me."

"I'd love to. I'm not into Philosophy, though. Father's been on a Philosophy kick for the past year or so. I, on the other hand, think it's rather impractical," Adelle told him, flipping through the book. "It must be from a second-hand book store, or something. It's got a name written in the front. Sam Drake... sounds slightly familiar."

Sheldon didn't even have to stop to think, "Professor Samantha J. Drake, of the Humanities department. She teaches Philosophy and Ethics."

"Hmm. He must have got it during the second-hand book fair the University had last year, then," Adelle said, placing the book on Sheldon's coffee table. "Alright, let's watch the Cylons and humans blow each other up!"

XXX

At dinner time, Adelle convinced Sheldon to come for dinner with them, "Please? They might still be fighting, and my mom won't let me take my food to my room." Sheldon reluctantly agreed, recalling the "Extends help and support in any way possible in times of trouble" clause in his Godfather agreement.

They found Penny seated at the dinner table, her head in her hands. "Mother?" Adelle asked cautiously. "I hope you got my note."

"Yes, I did. Your father's not back yet."

"Father left?" Adelle frowned, before saying, "I brought Sheldon home for dinner. Are you feeling alright?"

Penny looked up, and Sheldon saw that her eyes were slightly red. "I'm fine, just a little migraine, that's all." She suddenly shook her head, startled. "Wait – dinner? Is it six already?"

"Quarter past," Adelle told her, "I'll make dinner. Is leftovers alright with you?" She asked Sheldon, who looked pained, but nodded.

"No, sweetie, you don't have to…" Penny got up, trying to steady herself and grabbing hold of the table for leverage.

"It's fine, mother. I'll just cook some rice and get some leftover meat out of the freezer," Adelle reassured her mother, sitting her back down in the chair. "You just stay here with Sheldon."

Adelle busied herself washing the rice, and Sheldon patted Penny awkwardly on the shoulder. "There, there," he said, pulling out a chair and sitting beside her. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Penny forced a smile. "Have you gotten better at comforting people?"

"Not particularly, but given the amount of practice I've had over the past few months I've gained remarkable aptitude at listening to you complain about your marriage," Sheldon pointed out.

"Point." Penny actually smirked. "It's just that – it was about something so stupid this time. Well, it's stupid every single time, but I just don't know why we can't seem to stop. Freakin' hell, this time it was about him trying to teach Adelle Klingon, for god's sake. I made some stupid joke telling him not to ruin it now she actually had a boyfriend, and then everything just escalated. It's so stupid."

Sheldon chuckled, and regretted it once Penny directed her death glare at him. "Sorry. I should not have laughed. But it was rather funny."

"That's the point. It's so trivial, I don't know why," Penny massaged her temple with her fingertips. "I don't know how much more of this I can stand."

Sheldon's heart leapt (he'd always hated that expression, how could a heart leap?) for the strangest reason, and he chalked it up to triumph. He had been right from the start. Penny had often griped about her relationship with Leonard, but never before today had she alluded to wanting it to end. He'd known it all along, but there was nothing like confirmation. He opened his mouth to reply, but there was the sound of a key in the keyhole, and the door opened.

"Hey, Sheldon," Leonard sounded surprised, and was obviously faking a casual tone of voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Adelle invited me over for dinner," Sheldon told him, "Where've you been?"

"Stopped by the comic book store," Leonard placed his keys back in the bowl, refusing to meet Sheldon or Penny's eyes.

"You didn't buy anything?" Adelle asked, emerging from the kitchen, a large steaming bowl of rice in her hands.

"Couldn't find anything I wanted," Leonard said rather unconvincingly. Even Sheldon could tell something was up, but from the look in the Hofstadter's faces, he could tell it was not something he should bring up.

XXX

After dinner, Leonard drove Sheldon home, and Adelle quickly excused herself to her room, claiming she had homework to finish. Everyone knew that Adelle always finished all her homework by Saturday night, but no one tried to stop her.

She picked up her phone, and dialled a number she now knew by heart. He picked up after three rings. "Hey, Drew?"

"Adelle! I just got off my shift, was about to call you."

"Your shift?"

"Yeah, I work on Sundays, didn't I tell you?" He had. It was part of the reason why she'd escaped to Sheldon's house instead.

"Hey, this may sound strange, but did you see my father at the comic book store today?"

"Your father? Dr. Hofstadter? No, I didn't see him. Why?"

"No reason," she said casually, "Do you want to come over after school tomorrow? My Godfather lent me one of his old first edition books on M-Theory today."