. . .


THE WONDER AMY PARADOX

Chapter Nine


He had a plan. And, as with all his plans, Sheldon knew it was foolproof. He'd had four days to formulate this plan and everything was ready and waiting for her arrival.

Sheldon did not believe in televisions in the bedroom, having never been raised with one in his room. Instead, he preferred to read or engage in some other silent activity to quiet his mind before sleep. However, he moved his television to the bedroom dresser three nights ago, in preparation for Amy's return. He'd hoped she'd return the very next night, but she did not.

He longed to know why, but was unable to ask. She was gone when he awoke the next morning, and, of course, he was forced into silence during the day by the wiretaps. Amy had waved him over to point out one of the small devices to him the other day, their faces and body movement having one conversation while their voices had a completely different one about all the new features in the cafeteria. In the lab, there was only discussion about work, nothing personal. He realized that was the suggestion he'd proposed for their work when he was rambling his ideas off to Amy; it was just that he'd been hoping she wouldn't take it so literally, and that they could - that she'd want to - speak freely while working.

Now that they were following his parameters exactly, he realized he had thought that once Amy agreed to share his bed, even in a chaste manner, she would have found a way to share more of herself during the day. Surely something as innocent as her favorite color would not have revealed her secret identity? Intimacy was such a counterintuitive concept. People used the word intimacy to mean sex, but he had found sleeping next to Amy was just as intimate to him. He longed for that level of intimacy during the day. Or even the hint that she was open to it.

Otherwise, their work was going well. They continued to interact easily, their mutual dedication to science helping bridge any possible gaps and disagreements. Finally, though, on the fourth night, there was a flash in the living room and Amy returned.

"I wondered if you'd come again," Sheldon said when she noiselessly opened the bedroom door (that solved one mystery; she did use door knobs!).

"I didn't wish to abuse my welcome." Even her posture was different when she was Wonder Amy, he noticed, with her shoulders thrown back and her head held higher.

"You are welcome every night," Sheldon explained again. "But I understand, of course, that you have other things to do. And you must have your own place somewhere that you need to check on." He thought of Amy sitting on a sofa somewhere and knitting. The lab coat Amy. "If there's . . . a hobby you like to do in the evenings, you're welcome to do it here, too."

"Maybe," she said noncommittally. She started the ritual of removing her clothing, but she stopped and smiled at him, picking up what he'd left on her bedside table.

Sheldon waved to the flannel shirt. "It's clean."

"Thank you. But I like it when it smells like you," she said as she lowered the pajama top over her head.

He studied her as she got under the covers with him. Her smell was so strong on his sheets that he had not considered that she could even detect his own scent. "I thought, unless you're too tired, that I would share one of my hobbies with you tonight. Normally not in bed, but, well, this is where you are."

"Oh, the television?" Amy asked, noticing the large black screen.

Smiling, he reached for the remote on his side of the bed. "Yes. It's Star Trek. I assume you've heard of it?"

"Of course."

Sheldon grinned wider and queued up the carefully chosen episode. "This is one of the best episodes of the The Original Series, 'The Enemy Within.' Shall we watch?"

As the episode unfolded, Sheldon kept one eye on the screen and one eye on Amy. This was the perfect episode, the lynchpin of his entire plan. After a transporter accident on Alpha 177, Captain Kirk was split into two halves: one impulsive, strong, and bold, the other thoughtful and weaker. It was a classic episode, an exploration of what it took to be a whole person, how the flaws were necessary to balance the favorable traits, otherwise the favorable traits could turn ugly, too. Mostly, though, it was an examination of why one person couldn't be two, why it necessary to love all of one's self.

Amy flinched and cringed at all the correct times, she smiled at the comment about red wine, and she even murmured about Spock, "He is wise." Sheldon thought, with not a little pride, that his plan was working perfectly. She was just as enthralled as he hoped, not just because he wanted her to like Star Trek but, because like all the greatest Star Trek episodes, it would open the conversation to deeper topics.

Like how he wanted to get to know Dr. Fowler. Not just in the lab, but also here. He wanted to convince her that it wasn't only Wonder Amy that held his interest. In fact, the more silent Dr. Fowler was, the more questions he found he had about her. He wanted the whole story; was it Dr. Fowler or Wonder Amy that had traveled from Themyscira? And why? Who was closer to the true Amy? He understood that Amy was accustomed to using Dr. Fowler as a shy and reclusive smoke screen, but he wanted to find out what was ticking away in that heart, the one she claimed was Dr. Fowler, too. He wanted her to understand it was not only permissible but also necessary to love all of herself. The way he wanted to love her.

Until the aggressive half of Kirk tried to (or succeeded? it was hard to tell with 1960's editing) assault Yeoman Rand. Amy covered her eyes and cried out, "Why are you making me watch this?"

Scrambling for the remote, Sheldon paused the show. "It's a classic episode; it's meant to be thought provoking, about the duality of mankind."

"I don't like it."

"If you watch to the end, you'll see the moral of the story, the necessity of integrating and admitting to the duality of one's person that results in one -"

"I don't want to watch it. One is too weak and boring, the other is evil and destructive. It's not real! No one is like that!"

"Well, of course it's not real, it's science fiction. It's an allegory."

"I will not watch." Amy sat up and pulled the blankets off of her, swinging her legs over the side of the bed.

Sheldon's eyebrows went up in alarm. "Wait! Where are you going? Are you leaving? I'm sorry, Amy, I thought you would enjoy it, I thought we could talk about it and -"

She picked up her armor and skirt and slammed the bedroom door on him.

Sighing, Sheldon turned off the television and his BluRay player. Not only had his plan not worked, but it seemed it had even backfired. So much for the philosophy of Star Trek.

The next morning he found the pajama top tossed on the living room floor.


"No, we can't determine that yet," Sheldon said, resting his chin on the dry erase marker. "We need to know the exact energies of each of the protons so we can calculate their Bragg peaks. Do we have that data?"

"I think it's here somewhere." Amy crossed to the other side of the table, bending over her computer screen.

So far, today in the lab was proceeding just as smoothly as the previous days had without any mention of the disastrous outcome of Sheldon's attempt at using Star Trek as a conversation starter. But then, Sheldon reasoned, of course not. Dr. Fowler would not have spent any time in Dr. Cooper's bed, even if they were just watching television, so why would she have mentioned it in the lab?

"Why so many different protons anyway?" Sheldon asked. "It seems inefficient. It takes significant energy for the accelerators to produce protons in this wide of a range."

"It's necessary to have various Bragg peaks to penetrate various depths," Amy explained, her eyes scanning the screen. "Tumors are amorphous in shape, resulting in various distances from the skin. And no one's body is a flat plane, either."

Sheldon tilted his head at that and he looked at his numbers again and considered this. "That makes sense."

"Different strengths of the same particle are required to join forces to make the whole. Any one particle on its own is worthless." Amy paused before adding, her voice not as confident, "I believe there is an episode of Star Trek about that."

Pivoting sharply, Sheldon turned to look her, but her eyes remained glued on the computer screen.

"Star Trek? The Original Series? 'The Enemy Within?'"

"Yes, I think that's the one."

Had his plan worked in a delayed fashion? Was she going to casually mention that she'd also watched it last night, so they could openly discuss the episode and its meanings?

"I bet you hated it. Did you even finish it?" Sheldon asked with a little puff of frustration.

"I did at first," Amy said, neatly sidestepping his question. "But, after consideration, I came to understand what the moral was, about the importance of embracing one's whole self, even the less desirable parts, because the good parts balance those out." She finally looked up at him. "It was too heavy handed and obvious, of course, and there's an appalling scene, isn't there, with that one crew woman?"

"Well, yes, but it's meant to be appalling."

Amy looked back down at her computer screen. "Star Trek is your favorite?"

"Oh, yes." Sheldon paused. For the first time, the conversation had wandered away from the purely professional. It was a small insight into their private lives, but an insight nonetheless. "What is your favorite television show?"

"Little House on the Prairie."

"What?" Sheldon asked, genuinely surprised. He thought it would be Lois & Clark. Or that new medical documentary series on the Discovery Channel with the extremely handsome host. What was it? Oh, yes, First in Human. "My sister used to watch that in reruns when we were kids. She'd make me watch it before she'd let me have the TV to watch Professor Proton. I didn't know it was still on."

"There are reruns every evening on Cozi TV." Amy leaned back in her chair and looked over at him. "I know it's old and silly, but it's nice. It was a simpler time, where no one had to worry about saving the world because it was so much smaller. There were no mutant monkeys in Walnut Grove."

Then she smiled, the first genuine smile Sheldon had ever seen from her - the Dr. Fowler version of her. He felt repetitive just thinking it, but it was just like Wonder Amy's genuine smile. He smiled back. "No, but that would have livened things up."

The smile broadened but her next question was back to their work.

That night, when she came, he suggested they just flip the channels and decide together on something to watch. This was a plan, too, but a different one. After only three channels, the screen filled with the opening credits of Little House on the Prairie.

"Huh," Sheldon said, "what are the chances? We were just talking about this."

"Indeed. What are the chances? Perhaps it's a sign we should rewatch it." Amy snuggled up closer to his shoulder, and Sheldon brought his arm around her, pulling her even tighter.

"Yes, I think it is."


"Oh, I got a new binder of data from the forensic team. It's on my desk," Amy waved at him as she continued to study a slide in her microscope.

"I assume it's just as useless as all the others," Sheldon replied, but he got up to retrieve it anyway. He would, as he had with the others, flip through the columns of data in case something unusual leapt out at him. It was boring but necessary work for their research, and doing it while Amy was studying a sliced monkey brain seemed as good a time as any.

At her desk, he reached for the black binder on top but his eye was caught by a colorful paperback book resting next to it. Glancing over his shoulder, he reached forward and picked up the book: Death by Darjeeling by Laura Childs. Despite the title, the cover scene was one of peace, reminiscent of a pleasant English garden party.

"Is this yours?" he asked, reading the title aloud.

Amy turned around. "Yes. I quite enjoy that author."

"But it's - it's . . . " He searched for the right world. Why wouldn't Amy read science fiction? Or science fact?

"Fluffy and simple? I know. That's why I read them. I just finished that one at lunch today." At least that explained why she still refused to eat in the cafeteria, what she did alone in her lab every day. That was, every day she didn't get called out to fix the copy machine.

Considering the cover again, it did look like something a woman who knit her own sweaters and loved Little House on the Prairie would enjoy. Even if that woman seemed so contradictory to how the world was used to thinking of Wonder Amy. "Do you like it because it's a mystery or because of the tea element?"

"Both. I've read other cozy mysteries with different themes, but I found I quite enjoyed the tea shop location of this one." She shrugged. "I'm a fan of hot tea. Anyway, now I have to get the rest of the series to read." She turned back to her microscope. "That binder isn't going to review itself."

Sheldon dropped the paperback and set to work.


"What's this?" she asked even before she had removed her tiara, looking down at the two new objects Sheldon had left on her bedside table for her.

Sheldon lowered his book and said, "Although I enjoy watching television with you, I am not a proponent of blue light in the bedroom. I moved the TV back to the living room. We can still watch it, if you'd like to come earlier. I could make you dinner if I knew when you'd be here." He thought about telling her he'd set his DVR to record all episodes of both Little House on the Prairie and Murder, She Wrote but he didn't want to overplay his hand.

"You enjoy reading before bed instead." It was both not a question nor the answer to his invitation.

"Yes." He twisted and grabbed his mug off the end table. "And drinking tea. So I left you a book and a cup of your own. Don't worry, it won't keep you awake, it's chamomile. It should still be hot; I just made it."

Amy picked up the brand new book and read the title aloud. "Gunpowder Green: A Tea Shop Mystery by Laura Childs. The second in this series, I believe."

Then she sat the book down quickly, and he watched her carefully as she disrobed and pulled the covers up to slide under them. "Do you not like it? Do only read in your lab, and not before bed?"

"I didn't say that." She reached for the book with one hand and the yellow mug with the other. "If they are here, it would be rude not to enjoy them."

Sheldon looked back down at his page with smile.

The next morning, per usual, Amy was gone before he awoke. But, scrawled across the bathroom mirror in her bold red lipstick were the words: Dinner. 6:30. Sheldon puzzled, not over their meaning or even their appearance, but rather where Wonder Amy was able to hide a tube of lipstick in her costume.


"Truth."

Sheldon sighed. "It's hardly a game if you pick truth every time."

"I thought you wanted to learn more about me. We have this lasso, let it aid us in this purpose."

They were sitting facing each other on the bed, Sheldon cross legged and Amy with her legs tucked to the side under Sheldon's pajama top. Her golden lasso was wrapped around one of each of their arms, the appendages in question bond together between them. Their palms were very close, and it probably would have been more logical to hold hands, but there was some elicit thrill in the occasional brush of skin instead of the constant contact.

It was true that Sheldon had asked for suggestions of an exercise that would enable them to learn small details about each other. The suggestion had stemmed from conversation over dinner. It was not the first dinner in which it had become apparent he was more willing to share than his guest. In fact, there had now been two full weeks of dinner (with the exceptions of Fridays across the hall) and falling asleep together, although Amy had been late twice and had to leave once during the meal due to a mysterious silent call for her special services.

This gave him an idea. "Very well. A truth. How do you change from that -" he waved his free hand at her "- into Wonder Amy? How do you put on your costume?"

Finally, he would understand the flashes of light and appearing and disappearing via the back room of lab, the room without an exit, and, especially, the odd positioning of her clothes when she left.

Amy tilted her head. "You have asked for both a truth and dare. But I will follow the directives of the game." She leaned forward and unwound the lasso from her arm. "A demonstration."

"A demonstration?" Sheldon repeated, his heart tapping in excitement at his good fortune. Could he next ask her how she received the messages of need? Or for a ride in her invisible jet?

Sheldon watched her as she turned her back, taking off her the pajama top, revealing only her blue panties, and then put back on the skirt and breastplate she'd removed upon arrival a few hours prior. Always, she immediately removed her costume now and put on his shirt. "This reminds me," he said as she worked, "you can bring some spare clothes and toiletries here if you like. I'll clean out some space for you."

"I like wearing your shirt," she said as she put it back on over her armor.

He frowned, suspecting that she didn't wish to do so because it would confirm that Dr. Fowler visited here, too. Her absence every morning was no doubt to go home to shower and dress, in addition to straightening her hair and removing every last hint of lipstick. They hadn't discussed it since that first night, that Dr. Fowler would never visit this apartment for fear of revealing her secret identity. He'd mostly accepted it as necessary, but there were moments, like this, when it rankled still.

To his surprise, she picked up her bracelets and put them back on, also. "You don't have to put everything back on for me," he offered. "I'm sure I'll get the idea."

"The bracelets are necessary." She came to stand on the foot of the bed, and Sheldon pulled himself to the end, sitting up straight, to get the best possible view.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"Oh, yes."

Amy stretched her arms wide and closed her eyes, twisted on her feet and then she - she twirled! One slow rotation but then very rapidly on her tiptoes and there was a flash of light so bright Sheldon winced and there was the sound of flying fabric. When he reopened his eyes, Wonder Amy stood in front of him, her hand on her hips and her hair freshly curled. His pajama top was a good four feet away, lying flat over the threshold to the bathroom.

"How? What?" he asked looking around in amazement. "It's still buttoned!"

"It is a combination of speed and my bracelets. That is all I know," she explained with a shrug.

"But the physics don't make any sense. It you're moving as fast as a centrifuge, then the shirt would have to rip and . . . and your hair?"

Another shrug, a delightful and teasing movement of her creamy shoulders.

"So you wear your bracelets at all times?" Sheldon asked before he frowned. "But you always take them off when you get here."

"There's no reason to wear them where I am safe."

Sheldon smiled at her. "If you don't know how they work, can you at least tell me what they are made of?"

Amy stepped close to him, holding out her arm, palm up, for him to inspect the bracelet. "Amazonium, a metal unique to Themyscira. They are bulletproof, indestructible even."

Sheldon grasped her wrist. The metal was just as cold as he remembered from those nights they'd made love, just as cold as it was through Dr. Fowler's cardigan. Looking carefully, he asked, "How do you put them on? There's no seam."

"Let me." Amy's other hand skimmed over his, and she moved his forefinger until he felt a small circle of relative warmth in the metal. "Do you feel that?" He nodded. "Press."

The bracelet popped open. Sheldon looked up at her with a smile. "Fascinating. I normally find that engineers are people that couldn't make it as physicists, but I will admit to being impressed."

"Well, they were female engineers." That smile!

"And your breastplate? I've noticed you press the side to remove it, also. But it isn't cold."

Taking his hand, she rested it against her metal-clad stomach. "It is an alloy for just that reason. It's still very strong but not indestructible. But it would be too uncomfortable to wear otherwise."

"And the button for the latch?" Sheldon asked, trying to ignore how her scent was especially strong.

"Dare. Find it."

He slid his had around to her side, trying to look anywhere other than her chest at his eye level. After what felt like an eternity he found it, the slightly warmer spot near her waist. It was necessary to press harder than with the bracelets, he discovered, but at last there was faint clicking noise and the breastplate released and he had to reach up to grab it with both hands before it fell.

"Oh, I'm sorry - " Sheldon looked up and gulped. Amy's breasts. "What do I do with this?" he whispered.

"Let it go. It will not break."

It happened in such a rush, it was impossible to determine the exact order. He both tossed the armor away so that it landed on the carpet with a thud and he welcomed her arms around his head, burying his face between her breasts.

"Oh, Amy . . ." He reached up to hold them, circling her nipples with his thumbs as they hardened beneath his touch. Amy moaned, and he turned his head, capturing one of her erect nipples in his mouth, nibbling slowing and then sucking as he pulled away to meet the other.

She pushed him back in the bed, crawling over him, her breasts swinging low. Their mouths met fiercely, a hunger denied for too many nights, and Sheldon slid his hands down her strong back, slipping them under the waistband of her skirt and her panties at the same time, pushing the fabric down and away from her bottom that he squeezed as Amy groaned into his mouth.

"Touch me," she growled.

Eager, desperate, Sheldon wrapped his hands past her hips, toward the very core of her -

"No." He pushed her away and she got off the bed, her skirt caught around her knees.

"Sheldon? It's obvious you want me, too."

"I do," he admitted. Oh, how he did! "But not yet, not like this. I - I - need to wait."

Amy wrinkled her brow, which somehow only make her more alluring. There was no shame in her nudity. "For what do you wait? Tell me."

Chastened, he looked away and whispered. "I cannot." But his heart thumped just Amy.


There was a chink-THUD of someone trying to open the locked door and it startled Sheldon so much he almost dropped his marker. His mind raced as he walked to the door. Was it Amy, at last? Why the door, like that, when she'd apparently never entered that way before? She was later than usual, and Sheldon had eaten without her. It was a Sunday, so he hadn't seen her all day. Of course, she hadn't contacted him and he had no way to contact her. He could call the listing for Dr. Fowler in his phone, of course, but . . . well . . . there so many reasons he couldn't.

Last night, for one. Embarrassed and painfully aroused, he'd fled to the bathroom for a cold shower, but once there, the need for release had become so overwhelming he'd clenched his jaw until it was painful to keep from crying out as he imagined, not her armor, but instead her white lab coat falling open around her naked body. But Amy had been gone when he opened the bathroom door.

No, he wouldn't think about it again. It was a slip, a misstep, that was all. Sheldon opened the door with a relieved grin but then it immediately fell. "Oh, it's you."

"It's good to see you, too, buddy," Leonard said as he walked in. "Since when do you lock the door?"

"For a while."

"Whatever. Hurry! Turn on the news!" Leonard reached for the remote on the coffee table and flipped on the television.

"Why?" But Sheldon knew, even as he sat down next to Leonard. He knew it was for the exact reason he'd stopped watching the news, the same reason he'd stopped buying Wonder Amy comic books. He didn't want to know about the day a villain more powerful than her appeared on the scene. He had nightmares that she'd arrive at his apartment, not just with the occasional small scratch or slightly disheveled hair, but instead with a broken limb. Or not arrive at all.

" - Almost all the passengers on the Boeing 747-8 jet, we're told by the airline, are children between the ages of eight and thirteen, various little league teams returning from a tournament in Japan," the voice of the reporter on screen said as an airplane tilted preciously in sky, clearly broken in the middle but still connected along the bottom of the fuselage. And there, just beneath the hinge of metal holding it together, was Wonder Amy.

"As all citizens of Los Angeles know, we've seen feats of bravery and strength from Wonder Amy before, but this is astonishing. She is single-handily holding the airplane together and appears to be pushing it west toward the ocean. I'm sure I speak for everyone when I say I'm in awe of her strength and pose at this moment."

The cameras tried to zoom in on her, and although the image was grainy, Sheldon thought he could see the effort in her face, her arms shaking from the effort. He groaned and lowered his head into his hands.

"You're missing it!" Leonard said, punching his arm. "What is she doing?"

"It appears," the reported answered for him, "that Wonder Amy is attempting to move the crippled jet over the ocean. We have received word the Coast Guard has been activated for a water rescue mission. Joining us now is Major General Riley Bloom, the Air Force's Associate Director of Metahuman Regulations. Sir, are we correct that this is a new level of strength from Wonder Amy?"

"Yes, it appears so. We have previously known that Wonder Amy could lift and carry one hundred tons, but a fully loaded Boeing 747-8 could weigh up to 493 tons."

"Where is Superman?" Sheldon roared into his palms. "Or Iron Man? Or anyone else?"

"Where are the other superheroes that could assist in this effort?" asked the reporter.

"Obviously, we don't track the whereabouts of the superheroes at all times," Major Riley said -

"Bullsugar," Leonard mumbled next to him.

"- so I cannot even speculate into that line of inquiry. It is only reasonable -"

"Sorry to interrupt, Major, but we're returning to our live feed. It seems that Wonder Amy may be losing her grasp on the jumbo jet."

Sheldon peeked between his fingers to see the entire broken plane dip and then rise in jerky movements as Wonder Amy adjusted her arms. But, then, as Sheldon watched in the terror, the front of the airplane ripped free and plummeted quickly, crashing into the Santa Monica pier, erupting into a fireball.

Even the announcer was stunned into silence as Wonder Amy was able to rise above the flames with the back of the plane, which she carried further out to sea before she lowered it gently into the ocean, disappearing herself beneath the waves as the Coast Guard ships steamed toward the location from the edge of the screen. His heart pounding in his throat, Sheldon watched the ripples of the waves traveling in concentric circles from the floating fuselage until they met the waves from the approaching ships. Time stopped as smoke from the burning pier hung in eerie calm over the silent scene.

"If you joining us now," the reporter returned, his voice softer, "we just witnessed a great tragedy that even Wonder Amy could not prevent. Additionally, Wonder Amy has not yet risen out of the water and there are very real concerns that she may not."

"Turn it off!" Sheldon cried, running through the bedroom to the bathroom, where he curled up next to the toilet, sobbing and wishing he could vomit his heart out.

To be continued . . .


No one said falling in love with a superhero would be easy . . .

Thank you in advance for your reviews!