Summary: "Why?"… "Why?"… "Oh, that's why." Starting after 10.08, "The Brain Bowl Incubation," this is a series of post episode stories to fill in some of the gaps of season 10. Each chapter is a stand-alone of sorts, so you don't need to read the earlier ones to understand this.
Chapter 7, post-ep for 10.15, "The Locomotion Reverberation": Sheldon and Amy's trip to the Nevada Northern Railway doesn't quite turn out to be the hot, steamy experience that she had envisioned.
—-
I.
Amy glances around the small area that makes up her and Sheldon's lodging accommodations for the weekend. The old caboose is narrow, but it's long enough to contain sleeping space for three single-sized beds, two at one end of the car and one at the other. The steel walls and doors are painted white, and the old wooden floor completes the overall hard, bleak feel of the place.
"Isn't she beautiful?" Sheldon exclaims. "And to think, we get to sleep in her!"
She can see a wide smile on his face as he sets his suitcase on one of the beds. Considerably less enthused, Amy wonders if it's irrational of her to be jealous of a train car. It seems like it must be.
A well-tanned young man has shown them the way, and he scratches the back of his neck as he says, "Like I said earlier, caboose #22 is still on the active roster and used for freight. It's not hooked up to any kind of utilities, so there's no running water, heat, or electricity. The creature comforts are limited, to say the least."
Sheldon has had a dreamy look on his face for the entirety of their trip thus far, and the worker's warning doesn't appear to dim his enthusiasm at all. "It's perfect," he says, "an authentic railway experience in every way! Just think of all the conductors and brakemen who have used this very room over the years. Modern comforts are a small price to pay for such a treat."
She's not sure how he can speak so fondly of this old metal box. To Amy it more or less reminds her of a walk-in cooler. Several of the Nevada Northern Railway employees have tried to talk Sheldon out of his plan to sleep in the caboose on these February nights, and while she is thankful for their efforts, they've not yet managed to sway him even a little bit. Her attempts to express similar concerns have only been met with his repeated insistence that they will be fine and that he will make sure she's warm and comfortable. She has no idea how he intends to keep such a promise.
Their sandy-haired guide attempts to reason with him one final time. "Sir, I highly recommend that the two of you reconsider. Our bunkhouse is a more comfortable option at this time of year. This is a desert-like area, but don't make the mistake of assuming that a desert equals warmth. Freezing temperatures overnight are the norm in winter."
As far as she can tell, Sheldon is only half-listening at best. Most of his attention is focused on the small structure above them, a windowed projection that sticks out from the roof. He climbs up to sit in the high seat that is designed to provide a lookout point.
With a huge grin on his face, he spares a brief glance over at her. "Amy, it's the cupola! Crew members could sit in this perch to inspect and oversee the whole train from an elevated position."
"Um, that's very nice, Sheldon." Turning to address the poor guy who has tried to talk her beloved genius out of his ridiculous plan, she says, "I appreciate your advice, but as you can see, he's quite set on sleeping right here."
"Yes, I see. If—or should I say when—the two of you change your minds, the bunkhouse is right nearby and equipped with plenty of modern conveniences. That's also where the showers and restrooms are are for those who decide to stay out here." He sighs before adding, "Sleeping in the caboose is tons of fun for dedicated railway enthusiasts, but even the most fanatical of them don't attempt it in February."
"Excuse me, are you questioning my fanaticism?" Sheldon calls down from his perch in the cupola. "I assure you that my dedication goes far beyond that of your average visitor, and I have no intention of squandering this opportunity. I've been destined to come to a place like this from the moment I could first form the words to say 'chugga-chugga choo-choo!' "
The man shrugs. "Yeah, okay. Suit yourself, sir."
Amy walks over to the door to see him out. As he leaves, he says, "You may want to consider leaving your husband to his own devices out here, ma'am."
"He's not my husband." It's the simple truth, but admitting it stings nonetheless. "But we are in this together, for better or worse."
"Oh." He raises both eyebrows. "Well, whatever you want to call him… good luck to you and him both. It's gonna be a cold one tonight."
—
II.
The unconnected caboose rests unmoving against the railroad track, but Sheldon is in motion nonetheless, rocked by the rhythmic, jostling movements of his bed partner. Naked and pressed up tightly together in a shared single bed, they shake in unison.
Becoming an engineer and getting to operate a real train has been like a dream come true for him. Sharing the experience with Amy has only served to make it all the more fun. She's not as much of a train enthusiast as he is, of course, but she did seem appropriately enthralled when she was watching him work the machinery to run the steam engine earlier in the day.
Her face is resting near the crook of his neck, her warm breath a welcome breeze against his chest. The warmth of her bare skin along the full length of his body is more than welcome as well. Sheldon is tired from his long day of manual labor, and he is eager to fall asleep. Even so, he is determined to make sure that this trip is as good for Amy as it is for him. He hugs her tighter and resolves to double his efforts at making that happen.
Tomorrow she'll get to have the pleasure of watching him operate a diesel locomotive. She hasn't seemed all that interested in his detailed explanations of train facts, though. Perhaps he ought to try regaling her with tidbits about the history of the time period in which the Nevada Railway was founded. She does tend to be fond of early 1900's American history.
Amy lifts her head back and looks at him with squinty eyes. Her voice sounds hoarse and shaky when she says, "You're thinking about trains, aren't you? Even now…"
"We're occupying an honest-to-goodness, still-in-use, 40-year-old caboose. Of course I'm thinking about trains."
She tilts her head and pulls back further, allowing a chilly burst of air to sweep in between their bare chests, invading their little cocoon. With a flick of her hand she gestures down the length of their still-shaking bodies. "How is that even possible under these circumstances?"
Her question is perplexing. After all, what else would one think about when enjoying the ambience of their current surroundings?
Very slowly, he repeats himself, "Because we're on a train."
Perhaps the freezing cold of their room is slowing down her synapses. Her whole body is still shivering against his, not that he is faring any better. Their plan to conserve and share body heat through skin-to-skin contact has been helping, but there's no denying the uncomfortable temperature of their sleeping quarters.
He's never been in such close contact with her naked body before in a situation that is so utterly devoid of any sexual context. Comfortable as he is around her, it doesn't bother him at all. He hopes that it isn't troubling for her either, and he suspects that it isn't. She is the pragmatic sort, after all.
"I know very well that we're on a train, Sheldon!" Every word she speaks is accompanied by a steamy cloud of breath, the bursts of vapor clearly visible even in the meager light provided by their battery-powered lantern. She burrows her face against his neck again, and he tucks their little mound of blankets back up around her shoulders to help block out some of the chill. She mumbles the rest of her words against his skin, "This was a terrible idea. It's like trying to sleep in an icebox."
As if to prove her point, she presses her icy-cold nose against the sensitive skin below his ear. Sheldon can't hold back a reflexive squeak. That doesn't seem to be enough to satisfy her, and he supposes she's continuing to make her point when she wiggles her legs and contorts to press her popsicle-like feet against his calves. He shrieks again, even louder than before.
Once he recovers from the shock, he tries to think of a response. Thinking about trains has helped to distract him from the cold so far. Maybe it could help her too. "This railroad car has been in service for over 40 years. If decades of intrepid folks have managed to tough out the harsh conditions, surely we can do the same. It will be—"
"Let me guess: 'an authentic railway experience'."
"Well, yes…" She took the words right out of his mouth, but for some reason it doesn't sound all that sincere when she says it. It must be the sound of her chattering teeth that is making her voice come out weird. Deciding to try out a different approach, he adds, "And many people would no doubt find an experience such as this to be romantic."
"My brain's not frozen enough to talk myself into believing that. There's nothing romantic about losing feeling in one's toes."
"You're just being impatient. I can feel myself warming up with every moment that passes."
It's true. Thoughts of trains and the combined heat of their bodies has been helping him a lot. Sheldon starts running his hands up and down her back, using a brisk motion that he hopes will generate some friction and speed up the process of thawing her out. "Here we are," he continues, "out on our own, a couple facing difficult circumstances and fending off nature in the pursuit of adventure. Plus there's trains. If that's not romance, I don't know what is."
She tilts her head back far enough that he can see her wrinkled brow. "The next time we go on a trip somewhere, I'm choosing the destination. And don't even think about complaining about it."
It'll probably involve knitting, crafting, or pesky relatives, but Sheldon figures he ought to concede before she might be tempted to warm her chilly extremities on any other sensitive regions of his body. "Very well."
After a few minutes of silence, he is beginning to feel sleepier, lulled by his own rhythmic stroking of Amy's back. She has stopped shivering, but he has yet to hear the whistling, snorting sounds of her snoring.
Sure enough, she soon whispers, "I can't sleep."
"Perhaps a soothing lullaby might help."
He can feel her gentle nod against his chest, so he ponders what tune would be most appropriate. Only one song comes to mind.
Sheldon clears his throat and begins to sing in a whisper-soft voice, "'I've been working on the railroad, all the live long day. I've been working on the railroad, just to pass the time away. Can't you hear the whistle blowing? Rise up so early in the morn'…'"
Amy pulls the covers up over her head before he has a chance to finish the entire song. He's not sure if she'll even be able to hear him under there. Oh well. She must be feeling cold still. All out of brilliant ideas, he settles for squeezing her in a little hug before resuming the long strokes of his hands along her back.
—
III.
Two days later, Amy is proud of both herself and Sheldon for having slept in the caboose for the entirety of their three-night stay. As promised, he had done his best to find a way to keep her warm each night, and it was the persistent sweetness of his attempts to help her that had warmed her more than anything. Well, his hot, lanky body may have had something to do with it too.
A four-hour drive to the Las Vegas airport to catch their early morning flight forces her to drag herself out of bed long before sunrise. She has to poke Sheldon several times to keep him moving, and his eyes are still half-closed when he finally folds himself into the passenger seat.
It would've made far more sense to drive the entire way, but flying to the halfway point via Las Vegas has had the significant benefit of forcing a set end date to their trip. Who knows how long Sheldon would've tried to stay here otherwise.
All in all, Amy has to admit to herself that she's had a nice time. The historical nature of the site appealed to her love of history, and the museum itself had been fun to peruse. Though she'll never quite understand his unnatural love of trains, seeing Sheldon's unbridled joy as he immersed himself in that world had been enough to make her happy too.
Beyond that, watching him engage in such physically strenuous work had provided a bit of an additional thrill, piquing her more prurient interests, as it were. Sweaty, dirty, and unshaven, his normally boyish face had taken on an undeniably more masculine look. His physical strength had both surprised and impressed her. Needless to say, she had ended up taking a lot of pictures for future reminiscence, and she will no longer think of his train hobby as being childish. Still boring, sure, but not childish.
About an hour or so into their drive, Amy pulls the car over to the side of the road. A few stray clouds on this otherwise clear night have blocked out some of the light of the moon, making this the perfect time to carry out her secret plan.
Sheldon's head jerks up when the car comes to a full stop. "What's going on? Why are we stopped?" he asks, his voice a sleepy murmur.
"This is one quick and final stop on our adventure. You got to pick the bulk of our itinerary, but this last piece is mine," she explains. "Come on, we're getting out."
"But we're in the middle of nowhere. It's pitch-black out there."
She nods. "That's the idea. We're far enough from any cities or towns that the sky will look unlike anything we're used to. I'm going to take advantage of that and take a little peek at the cosmos."
The science of astronomy is something that she knows he respects. As such, she isn't too surprised when he perks up and says, "I suppose we're about as acclimated to the cold as we're ever going to be." He opens his door a crack, but turns back to her before getting out. "Does this count as your turn to pick our next trip?"
"No. But I guess you can add something small to the itinerary of whatever I end up choosing."
He looks pleased at the idea and gets out of the car with a small smile on his face. Amy flips off the headlights and reaches into the backseat to grab her backpack.
When she shuts the car door behind her, the interior light goes off, plunging them into complete darkness. The sky above and around them looks dizzyingly huge, containing far more stars than she has ever seen before with nothing but her own eyes to aid her.
She feels her way along the front bumper of the car to where she knows Sheldon is standing. As her eyes adjust to the darkness, it becomes easier to make out a bit of his face in the starlight.
"Wow," he says, an understatement that matches her own feelings on the subject. "That foggy strip of light—that's the Milky Way."
"It's amazing to look up and see into the far reaches of our galaxy. That's not exactly something we get to see in a Los Angeles area night sky."
He brushes her hand with his own. "I'm feeling rather small."
Amy smiles. "That's because we are small—infinitesimal specks with respect to the size of our universe." She points to direct his attention to another spot above. "If you look here, you can just make out a smudgy looking star."
Ever the know-it-all, he exclaims, "Andromeda! Our galactic neighbor."
"At two-and-a-half-million light-years away, that galaxy is the most distant object we can see with the naked eye."
"I'm an accomplished physicist, and it's still stunning to look at that and think about how the light we're seeing is over two-million years old. That light left Andromeda before any Homo Sapiens even roamed Earth."
A know-it-all herself, Amy can't resist adding, "Not only before the first of our species, but also before the first of our genus."
It's hard to tear her eyes away from the sky, but she wants to get a better look at the night's celestial offerings, so she rummages blindly into her backpack until she feels the hard shape of the powerful little telescope she has brought with her. "Sheldon, I need the light of your phone to put this together."
"You came prepared," he says, sounding proud.
"Of course. Girl Sprouts are always prepared."
"Girl Sprouts? Don't you mean Scouts?"
"No," she says, not wanting to talk about her unusual childhood at the moment. "Ask my mother about it sometime," she adds, knowing that he never will. That suggestion should thwart any further questions for the time being.
He hits the flashlight app button, and Amy quickly unfolds a small tripod and mounts her telescope on top of it. It's a simple matter to pick out the constellations and use them to orient herself. After a few minutes of maneuvering, she steps back and gestures for Sheldon to have a look.
"Is that a comet?" he asks.
"Yes. That's why I chose to drag you out stargazing in the early morning hours like this instead of during a more reasonable hour in the evening." It's always fun to lecture about a scientific subject, and she knows that Sheldon will appreciate it in ways that most others never could. As such, she doesn't try to stifle the urge to prattle on with the facts that she knows. "You're looking at comet 45P. It was at its closest point to Earth two days ago, a mere 7 million miles away. Needless to say, it's still easy to spot. It's a bit less bright than forecast, but it does have an interesting green hue to it."
Pulling away from the eyepiece, he turns his head towards her. "Make sure you're careful not to voice this kind of sexy talk in front of an astrophysicist like Raj. The poor guy has been unlucky enough in love as it is. We wouldn't want him to suffer the unfortunate pangs of jealousy."
If it were anyone but her Sheldon, she'd be certain that she was being made the butt of a joke. With him, however, she has no doubt at all that he's being serious, silly though it may be. "I'll try to save most of my 'sexy talk' just for you," she promises.
"What's the orbital period for this comet?" he asks, making her wonder if he is trying to steer her back to what he considers 'sexy talk'. It's a compelling thought. She has to consciously stuff her musings aside to concentrate on an answer.
"It's about five-and-a-half years, which is obviously quite short by comet standards. The more famous Halley's Comet won't be back until 2061, and even though it comes around every 75 years or so, that's considered a short-period comet as well. Both lengths of time are rather long by people standards, though, I suppose."
"I know I've changed a lot in a mere five years," he admits. "And imagine five years from now. We'll probably have a child by then, more or less annihilating our current lifestyle and rendering it unrecognizable."
Every once in a while, Amy finds herself feeling frustrated by the slow pace of their relationship. She knows that he has had a ring for some time now, and the fact that he hasn't chosen to give it to her—or even so much as mention the topic—tends to cause insecurity to creep up on her more often than she'd like.
And then there are times when he goes and says something like this. His sudden, out-of-the-blue mention of their future together stuns her into temporary silence. There's a definite assumption of commitment in what he has said. It's in no way a sappy or dramatic declaration, but the subtle certainty in his voice means far more to her than any flowery language ever could.
Her sweet, oblivious baboo doesn't seem to notice her state of shock. In fact, he casually continues his previous train of thought. "And by 2061? I bet we'll be wrinkly, grey-haired old grandparents by then. I don't know about you, but I know I look forward to wielding a cane and telling the world's young people how wrong they are about everything."
She has to swallow down a lump of emotion that clogs her throat before she can make herself speak. "Aside from the cane, you already do that now, and you don't even limit yourself to the young."
"Nor should I. After all, ignorance knows no age limits." He's being ignorant in his own way, ironically enough, continuing to be oblivious to how important his recent words to her have been. As he begins to shift the telescope's position, he says, "I'm going to take a closer look at Saturn."
That's good. She could use a minute or two to collect herself before she has to get back on the road to finish their drive. Being with Sheldon can be both overwhelming and baffling, but it's so often in the best of ways, and she wouldn't change a thing about him even if she could.
Continuing to peer into the eyepiece, he says, "Back in Texas when I was very young, my grandfather used to take me out in the evening to stargaze and show me the constellations. I'll have to make sure I do the same someday when the time comes. Amy, did you know that Saturn has some of the most interesting moons in our solar system? It has 62 known moons, some of which may be capable of harboring life, not to mention the possible hundreds of moonlets within Saturn's rings."
The tradition of marriage is nice, and she longs to have that with him someday. For the time being, though, it's easy to console herself with a moment like this—a moment when she is looking into the infinite sky while the love of her life drones on about Saturn and casually makes her promises of forever.
—
Fun Facts: The Nevada Northern Railway mentioned on the show as their destination is a real place in Ely, NV. Caboose #22 does lack utilities/heat and my description of its interior is based on a photograph I found online. Ely had low temperatures this weekend of around 14F (-10C). Comet 45P is also real, and assuming that Google didn't lie to me, the astronomical facts that Amy and Sheldon talk about in this story are accurate and relevant to the night sky in Nevada at this time of year.