Continuous italic for past events. It's a wonder how I got the energy to update despite the finale. How do you feel about it?

Chapter Seven

"Say, Howard, where did you discover that woman?" Sheldon blurted out of the blue in the middle of the boys' argument regarding the acclaimed Avatar. These group dinners have been a habit of them since the time it was only the guys. It was astonishing how people have been coming in and out of the group, accompanying them in this kind of gathering, considering their eccentric nature. Who'd thought they'd keep up with them?

Everyone fell silent, as all heads turned back and forth to him and Howard—including Penny and Howard's girlfriend, Bernadette. Although deep in their own romcom repartee and not paying attention to the guys' endless chatter about science fiction, Sheldon's query intrigued them as much to Howard's disquietude.

Howard gulped really, really hard, throwing a pleading look at Bernadette who gaped daggers at him in return. He mindlessly inserted his fingers in his dickie to try and hide his guilt and, at the same time, assuage the narrowing of his trachea—as if it could be any help. Either way, he's doomed, and with Bernadette, there was no easy escape.

"A w-woman?" Howard let out a nervous laugh, smiling idiotically at his friends, before stammering, "W-what woman, Sheldon?" He avoided the penetrable looks of his girlfriend and played with his food. All eyes were on him, waiting for answers. Every one of them expecting for hell to break loose once the secret is out and Bernadette erupts.

"Amy Farrah Fowler," Sheldon said deliberately, enunciating every syllable of her name. Now, it was Sheldon's turn to be gawked at. Similar to Voldemort's stomach-churning moniker, every women's name—excluding that of her mother, sister, Meemaw, Penny, and Bernadette—was regarded to be someone who must not be named in his presence, or in other scenarios, just dump the name in the trash and move one. How ironic; it was he who mentioned the name, in the first place.

Howard, upon realizing that he dodged the bullet of his girlfriend, started breathing again.

"Phew!" he sighed in relief, wiping his brow with a trembling hand. He peeked at Bernadette and squeaked, "Honey, Amy Farrah Fowler!" He mirrored his action towards his dickie a few seconds ago, but now, it was accompanied by the relief from not getting caught from hiding something. Good thing, there were no obvious secrets to hide from his girlfriend, or if there were, she wouldn't be on top of it because he had never told anyone, not even Raj!

Bernadette leered at Howard fiercely, but she eventually softened and diverted her look at Sheldon. "Howard knew her from me, Sheldon," she said with her sweet, understanding voice.

"How did you become acquainted with her?" Sheldon asked, interested in the situation where Bernadette was stumbled upon his newfound friend.

"Oh, Sheldon, Dr. Fowler was in-charge of most biology labs in UCLA. I got to meet her there," Bernadette retold.

"What were you doing in UCLA?" Sheldon wrinkled his brows in confusion.

"I got my PhD there, remember?"

"Oh…" He envisioned the time where Bernadette's university was mentioned, and, frankly, it sparked nothing. "My apologies, Bernadette."

"It's okay, Sheldon," she dismissed with her squeaky voice. "So how was your date with Dr. Fowler?" she hinted, beaming from ear to ear.

"Oooh, a date!" Penny teased, that ridiculous look on her face whenever she hears a gossip manifested. "Tell us about it, Shelly."

Sheldon shook his head in exhaustion. 'Must you always meddle with my life?' he thought, as he recounted times where Penny was the sole initiator of noticing anything involved with him.

"I was bombarded with threats by these two rubes right over there," Sheldon discussed, pointing his finger at Howard and Raj. In return, the two gentlemen exhibited an incredulous look of disbelief.

"C' mon, dude," Raj contended right after gulping his beer. "I'm ashamed to tell you this, but we begged on our knees, remember?" he continued before looking at Howard for assurance.

Howard scoffed and leered at Raj. "Well, you begged on your knees," pointing at Raj. "I was ready to let it slip, but Raj, here, was persistent as a Jewish man in need of a fatty cheeseburger!" he jest, again with his asinine retorts.

"Aren't you the—" Raj started.

"Guys!" Leonard interrupted, gazing at Raj and Howard in disbelief. Again this wasn't their territory, to begin with. "This not about you two. Sheldon—" he shifted his eyes to the man on his spot, "—why don't you fill us in with the details?"

"Fill in?"

"Yes, how'd it go?" Penny interjected this time.

"It was pleasant," he started, afraid that he might give away to much. "Amy Farrah Fowler is a formidable, civilized academic."

"Amy really is an intelligent and thoughtful woman. I remembered her keeping me company when I had to stay late for my dissertation. Although, Dr. Fowler is a bit straightforward and indifferent about various matters," Bernadette told, a bit uncertain of revealing information about Amy.

"And that what makes us very much alike," Sheldon casually hinted, grinning like a little boy who finally found his playmate. Everybody's jaw figuratively dropped—at least for some. This was an unbelievable proclamation, and none of them had the thought to record it in any way possible.

"Damn, Sheldon's got a ladylove!" Penny gushed, raising her wine glass, as though encouraging everyone to toast for the new success.

"Come in!" Mrs. Davis announced from the other side of the door. She was gonna let the person come in right from the first knock, but decided not to do so when it was accompanied with a second one, and then a third unnecessarily annoying one. Alongside it was a robot-like voice that supported her assumptions.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Davis." Sheldon greeted rather formally, with no fuss and irrelevant lecturing. Despite his slight distaste to what others might call as 'suiting up', his friends pointed out that since he was requesting some pressing matters to be resolved for his own intentions, there's no way he could slip on his superhero garb.

"Dr. Cooper," she stood up, "Why don't you settle down?" she offered with her hand the head seat from across the ten-seater conference table.

He was deeply aware of the magnitude of this meeting. The last time he stood in this very room was when he had to face the board of directors of Caltech, at the age seventeen, a year and a half after his brief stint in Germany. He was grilled ruthless by grown men, including the president at that time, as to why was he a worthy researcher and how he'll substantiate his claims.

Like any other circumstances, he was undeterred; providing answers that they were expecting to hear. Of course, those men were just pure business and thought that raising the iron fist in front of a young boy would make him wet himself, but no he didn't. Jokes on them, he tinkled right before the meeting. He knew his capabilities. He set their expectations straight. And in his lifetime, he never looked forward to getting so many pats in the back that it might have left a small depression on his shoulder—both sides.

And at that very moment, he vowed to react the same way to the previous one. Though, he was not really hoping for that many pats in the back.

"Where is President Siebert?" he asked, making himself comfortable in his seat, as he unfastened the lone button of his coat.

"He just needed to get something," Mrs. Davis answered and offered him a polite smile.

"I thought we're starting at one?" He peeked strongly at his watch. She glanced at hers, too.

"It's only 1:07, Dr. Cooper."

"Precisely. Seven minutes is no—" he was interrupted when President Siebert barged in the room rather unhurriedly like he has every time in the world. If I were him, I'd be ashamed with that display of tardiness. Even it up with nonchalance, and that man is a certified cuckoo.

"My apologies. I forgot something in my office," he said, throwing a look at Sheldon and back to Mrs. Davis. He strode to the front, opposite where Sheldon was sitting.

"Why don't we start?" President Siebert began as he set down a brown folder that he was holding and clasped his hands together.

"Please. I have no other intentions beside this balderdash," Sheldon whispered sardonically. He thought that the eye-rolling went past his superiors; he was wrong.

"Let's quit the attitude, Dr. Cooper," Mrs. Davis reprimanded, as she looked at him with a bit of pleading.

"Very well." He concluded that Mrs. Davis was the mediator between the two. On how she'll sell this for Sheldon to ultimately make the deal was lost on him. She knew by then that the arrogant, strong-willed of an attitude of Dr. Cooper was to look out for.

"Dr. Cooper, we've discussed your proposition after our meeting this morning, and we might have found a solution for your quandary," Dr. Siebert started while giving Mrs. Davis a knowing look.

"And, say, what would that entail?" he asked, as he scooted forward from his chair to hear what preposterous solution they came up with.

"As you know, Dr. Cooper, we can't just let you change your field," Mrs. Davis started explaining, occasionally looking at President Siebert for approval.

"Well, President Siebert made it very clear this morning," Sheldon retorted. In time with the end of his reply, a surprising vibration transversed through the glass of the table, accompanied by a faint ringtone no one can distinguish.

Sheldon was acquainted with the sound, much to the others' confusion. He quickly grabbed his phone from the table, flashed a tight, apologetic smile to his superiors, and inserted it in the inside pocket of his suit after ending the call. Both the man and woman were baffled by the display of humanity from Dr. Cooper but were more confused with the choice of ringtone and the intensity of the vibration from the device.

"Should you be answering that, Dr. Cooper?" Mrs. Davis questioned. It doesn't matter who gets a call or when, but Sheldon was subservient of the professionalism of the group.

"It was nothing," he disregarded. Of course, it was nothing! He never threw a glance at it, hence, he has no clue. He gazed back in waiting. "I'm sorry. You can continue, President Siebert."

President Siebert cleared his throat to reclaim his momentum once again. "If we're going to let you switch to dark matter, you'll need to agree to the terms laid out by the university," Siebert pointed out, reaching for the brown folder.

"Pardon me, but we do know that we have a lot of topics we need to cover. Why don't you lay it on me, President Siebert; I wouldn't intervene."

"Alright," Siebert agreed. "First on our compromise: you'll need to start from the beginning by being a junior professor."

"Excuse me?!" Sheldon almost went hysteric. He couldn't fathom being an official lecturer for the span of months, or, god-forbid, even years. His previous experiences with it brought back awful memories: being virtually mocked by his students and being a human spitball enabler, just to name a few.

"Dr. Cooper, let President Siebert continue," Mrs. Davis appealed.

Sheldon nodded his head with no vigor or whatsoever. He hesitated on whether reacting again or just let it the discussion flow.

"You'll be teaching graduate-level physics five times a week," Siebert continued.

"President Siebert…" Sheldon begged softly. No, he does not intend his professional life to be in involved in other people, excluding that of his colleagues.

"Dr. Cooper," Siebert sternly warned.

"Please, Sir, hear me out," Sheldon demanded quite respectfully. He sighed heavily when Siebert reluctantly nodded his head for him to continue. "Is there any way that we can adjust my teaching schedule? My research just can't be thrown on the back burner in exchange for the enlightenment of the callow."

President Siebert and Mrs. Davis exchanged knowing looks, as though they weren't even startled with this bombshell. They've predicted this complaint from Sheldon. Of course, they wouldn't want to arrive empty-handed in this situation.

"We can give you three classes a week," Mrs. Davis offered, glancing at the folder for clarifications.

"Can I at least be flexible with my schedule?" Sheldon raised firmly, despite the fact that his insides were rattling in suspense.

"And how would you prefer it, Dr. Cooper?"

"Two classes on Tuesday; one on Wednesday. And the rest of the week, I can do my research," he proposed rather confidently.

"Need I remind you, Dr. Cooper, it is for us to decide on how we'll resolve this matter for you," President Siebert warned.

"I'm already complying with the terms applied for me to shift expertise, President Siebert, what more do you want to seize from me?" Sheldon replied. His voice caught snag from his throat, cracking from the nerves.

"Dr. Cooper," Mrs. Davis started. "It goes without saying that you are one of the principal contributors in our university—"

"Certainly."

Mrs. Davis sighed. "But sometimes, you seem to forget that you are an employee of this institution."

"So are you," Sheldon stressed, his fists slowly turning pale under the table. His frustration was increasingly taking over his genius. A display of rage means a defeat on his side and a victory for theirs, he repeatedly voiced out in his head to, at least, keep him grounded in the present.

President Siebert breathed heavily as he rubbed his fingers between his brows. He glanced at Mrs. Davis to beg and help him, but otherwise decided because, ultimately, this will be his decision. He dropped his hand and returned his look at Sheldon. "Alright, Dr. Cooper, I agree with your proposal," he surrendered.

Sheldon acknowledged President Siebert's conclusive verdict by gesturing his head. "I, too, abide by yours."

Silence accompanied the discussion as both parties came to the realization that their problem finally found its resolution.

Sheldon started to be on his feet but was taken aback by a few questions that eluded him a while back. "May I ask what graduate-level physics have you elected me to instill in the minds of the half-baked mortals."

"Analytical mechanics, Dr. Cooper," Mrs. Davis answered on behalf of President Siebert.

Sheldon scoffed at how easy the subject was. Even a child genius can explain it. "And how long will this take?"

"Give or take, one academic year, Dr. Cooper. And if everything goes smooth, we might as well keep you in the running."

"I think one academic year is enough, President Siebert."

"We'll see, Dr. Cooper." President Siebert approached him. "You'll start on September 8th. That's still two months from now. We'll send you your schedule and syllabus in a few weeks. In the meantime, you can still do your research."

The two approached Sheldon and offered their hands, which he took out of respect. After expressing gratitude, he pivoted to the door but was halted when President Siebert mentioned, "Dr. Cooper, you might want to check that call a while ago. Sorry for letting it go."

Drat!

As he closed the door behind him, he reached for his phone and his pocket.

1 missed call

2 messages

From: Eve

Sheldon, are we go this afternoon?

Right. His fifth prospect.

He shook his head in negative as if the one he was talking to was just in front of him. He replied, "Can we schedule it tomorrow?" in which he got a suspiciously blithe 'Amen'

Odd.

He went back to his messages and opened the next one.

From: Amy

Doing good?

His smile undeniably reached ear to ear. He started eagerly typing his reply, "Never been better, Amy. Thanks!"

I could not fully express how I truly feel about the series finale, but tears were definitely involved in the making. We knew this was coming since the beginning of season 12, but the reality of it ending only hit hard as I was watching TBBT and it got full-blown in the middle of YS. I feel exhilarated on how the characters developed throughout the seasons and, eventually, got their well-earned ending. A lot of revelations that stumped me real hard (I wouldn't go into details to avoid spoiling it). And a lot of aspects that were still left open, but that's the beauty of it; we get to fill it in ourselves.

Thanks are in order for every single person involved. A sweet, hysterical, heart-wrenching finale to conclude the series. Thank you to The Big Bang Theory; you've been a great pal to me.

Of course, I'll try my best to be one of the many who gets to fill in the creative holes that were left behind.