Author's notes: Consider this Part 1 to a two-part chapter. There was more story here than I realized.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Seibert was in his office having just ended a phone call from the Alumni Association when he heard a traveling commotion outside of his door that was getting closer by the second.

"Dr. Cooper, Dr. Cooper, DR. COOPER!" came a shrill voice on the other side of the door, which sounded a lot like his secretary, Mrs. Johnson. A second later, Sheldon burst through his door with Mrs. Johnson behind him.

"He does not have an appointment, and I notified him of such," she said.

"I'm sure you did, Mrs. Johnson," Seibert said, rising. "He has a problem with following directions."

"I have excellent news," Sheldon announced cheerfully, "that I believe will have a profound impact on recent events."

Dr. Seibert nodded to Mrs. Johnson. "Thank you. You can go."

She shot Sheldon one final glare then left, shutting the door behind her.

"Your news arrives at a good time," Seibert said. "I have a bit of good news relevant to you as well."

"Is that so?" Sheldon asked. "Does your news concern the future of mankind's fundamental understanding of quantum chaos?"

"I'm afraid it doesn't," Seibert said. "Go ahead—dazzle me."

"Great," Sheldon said, clasping his hands together. "Goopity goppity, flooey, flammy, tabarken, cooboo, tabee, lamee, sapu, rumpelly dumpelly, carden."

That wasn't exactly what Sheldon said, but that's more or less what Seibert heard.

"Is… that your good news?" Seibert asked, just for the sake of clarification.

Sheldon was appalled. "Is that my g—, of course it's my good news! Were you listening to a single word I said?"

At that moment his phone rang. Dr. Seibert pushed a button on his table phone. "Yes, Mrs. Johnson?"

"Your 9:30 appointment is here," she said.

Dr. Seibert nodded. "Send her in." He turned to Sheldon. "That should be Dr. Zurbriggen."

Sheldon was surprised. "What could she want?"

"She is returning a rare, discontinued book she borrowed from my personal library."

A moment later she walked in. She nodded at the President. "Dr. Seibert," she said, and then she spotted Sheldon. "Dr. Cooper?"

"He was sharing some exciting news," Dr. Seibert said. "Would you like to share with Dr. Zurbriggen what you just shared with me?"

Sheldon perked up. "Well, she's going to find out in short order anyway, but… I would be delighted." He cleared his throat. "Goopity goppity, flooey, flammy, parameter dependence, tabarken, cooboo, tabee, lamee, adiabatic assumption, sapu, rumpelly dumpelly, energy-level degeneracy, carden."

She caught scarcely more that Dr. Seibert had. She cleared her throat and snuck a glance at the President. He subtly shrugged his shoulder and gave her the look of a deer in headlights.

"That is rather fascinating," she said. "We'll be sure to include it in the next report."

"Next report?" Sheldon said. "Do you realize the impact that this finding will have on the Physics community at large? If the ideas I synthesized are correct and substantiated by our group's experimentation at the LHC, I am on the verge of solving one of the great quandaries of modern physics."

"Excellent," Dr. Siebert said. "This brings us to my news. The LHC is trying to keep you aboard and said that they would be willing to work with you as an adjunct or maybe even a consultant to the team, preserving your affiliation with the project."

The news almost sounded promising. Except for one thing. "Would I be able to preserve my position as lead theorist?"

"Um," Dr. Seibert said hesitantly, chewing on the words he had yet to say. "They would need somebody in a more stable situation within the organization to actually spearhead the project, who can travel with ease and is a user of the LHC."

Sheldon shook his head. "Then that proposal is unacceptable."

Seibert raised an eyebrow. "Unacceptable to whom?"

"To me," Sheldon said. He was thinking about the house. The truth was he needed the money. "There are personal considerations for me as well."

"Other than your ego?" Seibert said.

"You must speak with again, persuade them to reconsider."

Seibert was confused. "I thought you were all about the science. I thought you hated the titles and administrative duties."

"They have their place, Dr. Seibert. And we all know titles equal access. Access I will be denied if I am transferred to a position only tangentially related to the project."

Seibert shook his head. "That's a very generous offer," he said. "You really should consider it. Or you may just be cut altogether."

"You can't cut me!" Sheldon yelled.

"From where do you get this sense of entitlement, Dr. Cooper? Nobody is indispensable. Physics didn't stop when Einstein died."

"But it was a MAJOR loss," Lise-Marie said in a fiery outburst. Both men turned to her, Seibert with confusion, Sheldon with pleasant surprise. "Some men do great things, sure, but some men change the world. at times I do not think you recognize what you have here, sir. It really frustrates me, in fact, and I can't just sit back and watch while you squander this opportunity. You should absolutely be doing more to preserve his standing."

Seibert didn't respond immediately, and after a moment, he turned to Sheldon. "Can you leave us to talk, Dr. Cooper?" he said.

Sheldon happily complied. "I have a mountain of work to get back to. Good day," he said, and left.

When he was gone, Seibert looked back at Lise-Marie, and he was not pleased. "What the hell was that?" he asked.

"I am so sorry, Dr. Seibert," she said, suddenly chastened. "But Dr. Cooper and his ego must be handled a certain way to get the best results. That is why I am here, is it not?"

"You are not here to disrespect me or my position or to question my decisions. You pull another stunt like that and you'll be back at the LHC before you can say au revoir."

She nodded sheepishly. "I completely understand. Forgive me," she said.

He nodded.

"You should know that they've all but decided to call you back next week."

"Next week?" she said breathless. "Can you not stall them? Like before?"

He shook his head. "The decision really isn't mine to make."

She turned away, shaken.

"This is a trying time for everyone," he added.

"So it is," she said as she left.

Lise-Marie stood outside of Sheldon's door. This was her absolute last chance. Even standing there, she didn't even know what she would say, but she had to get him to that party tonight. She had to.

She turned the handle to his door; it wasn't locked. She just went in. He looked up at her.

"Lise-Marie, there is a protocol for entering the private work areas of others that typically includes, at a minimum, several knocks. Repeating the person's name isn't even out of the question."

"I am aware of that, Sheldon," she said. "But I am just so irate over the treatment you received back there," she said. "I just couldn't sit back and watch as he minimized your value."

At the memory of it, Sheldon nodded. "Honestly, I was surprised at your response. I thought you might prefer it if I left."

"Far from it," she said. "I realize that our last conversation was… a bit rocky. I apologize if I overstepped my bounds. I had no idea you were in a relationship."

Sheldon's head snapped up. He looked back at his papers. "It's not a secret," he said.

"I know, I know," she said, advancing closer. "It's just, well, you don't have any pictures around the office… of her… or anyone else."

Sheldon felt a bit defensive. "My office is not the place to broadcast my personal affairs," he said. "Such sentimentality is best left in the privacy of one's home."

"I agree," Lise-Marie said, nodding with a serious countenance. "I only wish more people felt as you did." There was a long pause and she drew even closer, until she was right up on him, one hand delicately landing on the side of his desk. "Still, I can't help but wonder if… you carry around guilt towards them."

Sheldon looked up at her before responding, confusion on his face. "Guilt?" he repeated. And then, more bafflingly, "Them?"

"Yes, them. Your lover. The twins. Your family."

The intimacy of the statement made Sheldon severely uncomfortable. "My 'lover's' name is Amy."

"Ah yes, Amy, that is what he said," she said off-handedly.

Sheldon didn't know to whom she was referring. "Who said?"

"Dr. Hofstadter. He mentioned you were living with a woman named Amy."

"He did?" Sheldon asked, surprised. He turned away pensively. "Did he also tell you I have twins?"

Actually, she had learned that nugget of information from Sheldon's outburst in the visa meeting. "Yes, he did," she lied. "He is a friend of yours, is he not?"

Sheldon nodded. "He is."

She perched herself on the tip of his desk. "He also told me that you were a wonderful family man. Attentive, loving, a good provider." She looked out of the window, seemingly lost in thought, and shook her head. "Maybe that is why I am baffled as to why you feel like you are letting them down."

"I don't feel like I'm…" he could barely say the words, "letting them down."

"No?" she said. He didn't answer. "I see it when you are agitated when you have to work late. The hushed telephone conversations back home. The harried way you work. You want to be there for them. You do not want to fail them."

The words sat on Sheldon, resonating down to his core. He didn't want to fail his family. He didn't want to let them down.

He didn't even realize his eyes were closed.

"But there is something else I know," she added. She leaned forward, practically whispering. "I know you want the Nobel Prize." He opened his eyes and she was right there. They were staring at each other, face to face.

"How do you know that?" he asked.

The truth was, it was common knowledge, and back in Switzerland she had heard tales of his fiasco at the North Pole. Such a story, however, would never do. She had a better answer.

"I can see it in your eyes," she began. "In the way you work. In the way you type. Even in the way you gaze. You do not just have dedication; you have passion. While others speak, you preach. They are content with another published paper, another raise and more letters behind their names. But you," she paused, shaking her head. "You want more. At the LHC, I work with the greats every day, Nobel laureates and great men of change who have fire in their bellies and grit in their eyes. These men aspire for more. I know such men when I see them, Sheldon. I see such a man in you. You won't be content until that prize in sitting on your mantle, and more… you know better than anyone else how close you are to getting it."

He suddenly stood, pacing over to another table a few feet away. "I do want it," he whispered.

"And some day," she said, rising as well, "you will have it."

He turned to her.

"I look forward to seeing you tonight? With Amy?" she said.

The party. He nodded. "Of course."

"Then, I'll see you then," she said, and left.

Bernadette and Howard were curled up on the bed watching the latest episode of "America's Next Top Magician." In this program, illusionists from around the nation competed for a chance to win a half million dollars and to get an act in Vegas. This was only the second episode and they were still in the audition round. Howard was unimpressed.

"He calls that magic?" he said, scoffing at the screen. "I've seen better sleight-of-hand tricks out of the sandwich makers at Subway."

"His assistant is cute," Bernadette said.

"Not as cute as mine," he said. They shared a kiss.

Just then there was a commercial break. Bernadette thought it was a good time to bring something up.

"I'm not mad now," she began. That introduction made Howard nervous. "But why didn't you believe me when I said Joel was sick?"

"I don't know, Bernie," he said. "I let my imagination get the better of me. I thought maybe you were getting tired of the whole mother thing and was looking for a way out."

"But I'm really trying," she said. "I want to help you Howard. I want the boys to have a happy childhood."

Howard nodded, but kind of distantly, like there was something he wasn't saying.

"You don't think I'm doing better?" Bernadette asked.

"Absolutely, sweetie, and you're doing a great job," Howard said. He took her hands in his. "But… I want the day to come when you are doing this for you, because you want to. Not because you want to help me and not just because you want the boys to be happy. I want you to be happy, too."

"I am happy," Bernadette said. "I just… I was so convinced that motherhood would ruin my body, my career and my marriage, it's taking me a while to let those ideas go. And then when you don't trust me—"

"I trust you," Howard said.

"That's not how I felt the other day."

And he realized that was true. "I'm sorry," he said. "I had no idea. I mean… it never dawned on me—"

She put a finger over his mouth. "We're figuring this out together, Howie," she said. "We just can't forget that we're on the same team. You, me and the boys."

He nodded. "You're right. It's just us now, and we can't let anything come in between that."

"HO-WARD!" came a scream through the wall. Howard fell back against the bed, exasperated.

"WHAT MA?" he yelled back.

"DID YOU STILL WANT ME TO BRING CUPCAKES TO SCHOOL TOMORROW?"

"MA!" Howard yelled back, "I'M NOT IN SCHOOL; I'M A GROWN MAN."

"I'M TALKING ABOUT FOR THE BOYS, SMART ALECK. THE WORLD DOESN'T REVOLVE AROUND YOU, YOU KNOW."

"But it can revolve around you," he muttered under his breath. "SURE, BRING THE CUPCAKES!"

"AND YOU WANT ME TO DECORATE ONE FOR YOU WITH YOUR NAME ON IT AND A LITTLE SMILEY FACE IN SPRINKLES?"

"YES, PLEASE," he yelled back.

"AWWW," she cooed adoringly through the wall. "THAT'S MY BABYCAKES."

Howard, smiling, snuggled in closer to Bernadette. Just then the program started back up. Howard shook his head.

"Capes are so played out," he said.

Lisa-Marie sat in front of her vanity, putting the finishing touches on her hair, makeup and outfit as the caterers mingled about downstairs. She settled on pinning up her hair in a style that was elegant and demure and, as she would be hosting the event alone among a gathering of couples, she thought it wise to wear a simple black dress and conservative accessories: her mother's broach with a string of pearls and matching earrings. She dabbed a little concealer under one eye and put another bobby pin in her hair.

"Dr. Zurbriggen," came a voice from downstairs. It was Hannah, the woman who was overseeing the food preparation.

"One moment, Hannah," she called. "I am on my way down." She gave herself another once over in a full-length mirror, before nodding to herself in approval. She was ready to go downstairs. Then something crossed her mind. She walked back to her desk and opened her laptop. Going to Google, she typed in "Sheldon Cooper Amy." The query brought up a disparate list of restaurants, blogs, movie times and message boards. She tried again: "Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper Amy." That query at least brought up something relevant to Sheldon, like his profile page at Caltech, several of his published articles and –the mother lode—his Facebook page. She clicked on it, only to see that it was completed locked. Cursing in French under her breath, she returned to the results page.

"Dr. Zurbriggen," Hannah called again.

Lise-Marie looked at the open door. "One more moment, Hannah!" she cried. She sighed, frustrated; there was so much she didn't know—not even a last name or profession. She tapped her manicure nails against the table and then tried one more time: "Sheldon Cooper Amy Pasadena twins," she typed, then she pressed enter.

Among the results was a page for a Lamaze class graduation from five years ago. Taking a chance, Lise-Marie clicked on the link. Underneath a tiny blurb on the class, she saw scribbled on the photo in amateurish captioning: Sheldon and… Amy. Clicking on it to make it bigger, she was just able to make out the face of the woman: be-speckled eyes, a toothy grin, no makeup to be seen anywhere, and hair without any definition whatsoever, save for a lone hairpin to the side. Even though Lise-Marie realized this woman was pregnant with twins, her size would have one believe she was carrying quintuplets. Lise-Marie nodded to herself and closed the window.

Curiosity satisfied, she closed her computer and went downstairs.

Sheldon sat on the couch, frequently glaring at his watch.

"AMY! Its 5:25. We're going to be late."

"Sheldon," she called back. "It doesn't start until six and she lives ten minutes from here. For once, I would like to be one of the couples that show up fashionably late and not one of the couples that get to finish sweeping up in the kitchen."

"How else can one ensure that the food has been prepared in a sanitary environment?"

"I thought you said it was catered."

Sheldon turned his mouth to the side. He had no response to that.

Meanwhile, Amy had been holed up in the bathroom for the last hour. Penny had come over earlier to apply her makeup, a combination she called "grown ass and kiss ass," and had even convinced Amy to give false lashes a whirl for the first time in her life. After painting her fingers and toes a fiery red, she trimmed Amy's sorely-neglected ends and put her hair up in hot rollers, leaving behind a dainty elastic that matched Amy's dress and clear instructions to "leave that hair clip at home." Against her better judgment, Amy had been persuaded to shave her legs and pits, and even don a pair of strappy heels. She strutted around the bathroom, taking the gold-colored footwear Martha had picked out for a test drive. When all the elements were together, she took a deep breath and winked at herself in the mirror.

After yet another five minutes had gone by without the appearance his date, Sheldon called after her, unaware she was already on her way out. A second later, Amy emerged. Her hair, replete with a faux bang, was voluminous and shiny. It was swept into a side ponytail that cascaded gentle waves over her left shoulder and was held in place with an elastic shaped like a tiny bow. Her lips were red and well-defined, her cheeks rosy, and her skin luminous, without a flaw in sight. Her eyelids were dusted a smoky grey, which made her already almond-shaped eyes look fetching and coy. Finally, there was the dress: a red, sleeveless, cocktail-length stunner, it boasted a heart-shaped bodice that accentuated Amy's neck and collarbones and tucked-fabric detailing that met over her hip and hugged all the right curves while hiding all the wrong ones. It ended in a pencil skirt that made her legs look like they went on for miles. The dress's sequin-embellished straps sat ceremoniously on her shoulders, and with one manicured hand on her hip and the other dangling a sexy clutch to her side, she looked in a word:

Stunning.

Sheldon stared at her, silent and blinking. As he looked on stupefied, Amy mentally rehearsed the story that Penny had taught her earlier that day: if Sheldon asked where the dress had come from, she was supposed to ask him, "Don't you remember the episode when Penny went to a wedding?" Sheldon, wholly uninterested in any of Penny's acting roles, would insist that he'd never seen the episode to begin with, and from there, could draw his own conclusions. It wasn't exactly a lie—just a well-placed question.

"How do I look?" Amy said, twirling around with a gold-colored clutch in her hand.

Sheldon stood up slowly, his eyes never wavering. "You look," he began, clearing his throat and pulling on his tie. "You look very nice."

Amy estimated that his pupils had dilated by about 45 percent: bull's eye.

"Don't you want to ask me something?" she asked.

"Um, yes," he said, drawing closer. His face was very solemn and held out his hand. "Would you like to go to the dinner party with me?" he asked.

Amy smiled to herself, laughing on the inside. It turns out her misleading question would be unnecessary after all. "Absolutely," she answered and took his outstretched hand. Then she shouted at the top of her lungs, "ROBERT! ADITI!"

Aditi came out running first, crying uncontrollably and practically trembling with anger. "Robert solo booboo baba beebee," she screeched in a high-pitched wail.

Sheldon squinted at the gibberish. "I'm sorry, but you will have to be clearer."

Aditi fought to catch her breath, and was only partly successful in doing so. "Robert stole my Mrs. Bobbie Baby Bottle and won't give it back." She was flapping her arms in utter frustration and looked like she was on the verge of an all out tantrum.

A second later, Robert came running out. He had a screwdriver in one hand and the bottom of a bottle in the other. The hard plastic nipple (that otherwise had been secured to the base of the toy) was missing.

Amy was confused. "What is the devil would you want with your sister's Mrs. Bobbie Baby Bottle?"

"Amy, language," Sheldon scolded. She rolled her eyes.

"I was fixing it," he whined in his defense, starting to grow upset as well.

"HE BROKE IT!" she screamed. Then, letting out a final battle grunt, she ran over and tried to snatch it from him, but he yanked it back before she could grab it. She lunged again, but he dodged her and ran near Amy.

"Stop it, both of you," Amy insisted, but they paid her no heed. Aditi chased him, finally grabbing it, but was still unable to wrest it from his hands. They engaged in a seconds-long tug of war when the already-compromised toy exploded and shot a mix of powdery milky mixture all over the front of Amy's dress.

Amy gasped. All else went silent.

Both children fled, Robert under the coffee table and Aditi behind the crevice between the bookshelf and the wall where only she could fit. Sheldon looked even more shell-shocked than Amy.

"Amy," he said, the only word he could get out.

Regaining her wits, Amy just shook her head. "I'll have to dab out as much as I can. At any rate, I have a shawl I can throw over it." She went to the kitchen to procure a rag with soapy water, and then headed to the back to find a large scarf that someone had brought her back from a trip to Atlantic City. As she wondered how long it would take to dry the wet spots with her hair dryer, she hoped that Sheldon (who was likely the worse disciplinarian the world had ever seen) actually had a plan for dealing with the children.

Leonard was chopping up the fixings for a salad while Penny had her feet propped up, watching a judge show.

Just then there was a knock on the door. A moment later, there was a little knock that sounded like it was coming from closer to the floor.

"It's them," she said, then—after slowly easing her feet to the floor—she stood up and waddled to the door. When she opened it, she beheld the motliest crew of Fowler-Coopers she'd ever seen. One in particular arrested her attention.

"Amy," she groaned, barely hiding her disappointment at the quilted monstrosity hanging from her friend's shoulders. "We didn't talk about a shawl."

"I know," she said, then glared at her offspring, whom she had gripped in either hand. "They have been very naughty and came just close to destroying my outfit. Thank goodness I was able to salvage it."

Penny sighed, for more reasons than one. She looked down at Amy's children, who at the moment looked more like captives. "So, I guess I'm more warden tonight than playmate."

"You bet your sweet bippy," Amy replied. "No sweets, no television, no movies, no games, no coloring, no computer, and no bubble bath—they can take showers. Did I forget anything?"

"No air?" Leonard muttered from the kitchen.

Sheldon stepped forward. "And I'm to say that I agree with everything she said," he said plainly.

"Gee, Sheldon," Amy said, tartly. "Real supportive."

"Amy, we're late," he shot back. "At this point, all my thespian energies are going towards concocting a believable story that doesn't make us look like flagrant ingrates and hippy drifters." His single-mindedness was annoying Amy even more.

"Can I at least read them a story?" Penny asked.

Amy relented. "Yes. As long as it's educational." She pulled out a large tote bag. "There are a few things I need to go over with you, however, before we leave."

"Sure," Penny said. "What is it?"

Amy turned the twins loose, and they downheartedly wandered into the living room. She followed them inside and opened a small notebook. "At seven o'clock..." she began, as Penny looked on.

Meanwhile, Leonard slipped out of the kitchen and out into the hallway to talk to Sheldon.

"Hey," he said.

Sheldon nodded, rather stiffly. Leonard didn't know what to make of it.

"Is this the party that the Swiss girl is having?"

"The very one," Sheldon said, still a bit coolly.

"Well, keep an eye out for that one. She came sniffing around my office yesterday for information about you. I didn't give anything up, but I have a bad feeling about her."

"Oh, you gave up plenty," Sheldon said.

"Excuse me?" Leonard replied. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, spare me the theatrics, Leonard. Reserve your acting abilities for the con you're pulling on our department in regards to your research."

"What the hell is your problem?" Leonard asked.

Sheldon didn't say anything.

"Fine," Leonard said, shrugging his shoulders. "Believe whatever you want to believe, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Amy re-emerged from the apartment wearing a large floral broach that covered the lingering powder stain high on her dress. Miraculously, Sheldon noticed, giving Amy a slight nod of approval. She smiled and took his arm. "We should be back no later than midnight," she said. Then she leaned closer. "Sooner if this thing turns out to be a snoozer."

Penny laughed. "Have a good time guys. Don't worry if you need to come and get them in the morning… ahem, ahem," she said suggestively.

Amy winked at her, and they left.

As soon as the door shut, Penny turned to the children. They were both sitting on the middle cushion of the couch looking sad and forlorn. It was the first time in months Penny had seen Robert without his Batman toy, and Aditi's eyes were still damp; she was sniffling a little. Penny reached over to the box of Kleenex and handed the young girl a tissue. She dutifully wiped her eyes with it.

"Awww," Penny said. She turned to Leonard. "They look so sad."

"Well, you would look sad too if you had just been sentenced to twenty to life without parole," he quipped.

Penny sat down next to Robert.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asked. Neither child responded.

"Of course they don't want to talk about it," Leonard said. "They're four years old and one of them is a boy."

"Well, what I'm I supposed to do? I've been stripped of all my usual cheer-up techniques." She thought a moment. "Do you think fruit snacks count as candy?"

"Yes, I do," Leonard said. "Here." He wiped his hands on a towel, then walked over to the where the kids were and stooped down in front of the couch.

"We're going to play a game called 'Don't Laugh,'" he said. The plan sounded suspect to Penny.

"Um, I think we have a tie," she said.

"Give it a sec," Leonard said. He turned back to the twins, and then began singing. "I'm gonna tickle, tickle, tickle. I'm gonna tickle, tickle you. You're gonna giggle, giggle, giggle. You're gonna giggle when I tickle you." Then he proceeded to tickle them both with abandon, on their toes, behind ears and under their ribs. Much as the introductory song had promised, both children collapsed into giggles. "Hey!" Leonard said, pretending to be confused. "You laughed."

"Uncle Leonard, I'm not going to laugh next time," Robert said. "I'm going frown," he said, demonstrating the frown he planned to use.

"Well, let's see," Leonard said. He sang the song again and, once again, ended it with a hearty round of tickling. Both kids were helpless before him, laughing even more than before. The sound of their laughter made Penny smile.

"Where'd you learn that from?" she asked.

"My dad," Leonard said. "My mom said the humor in the game was a result of latent masculine aggression masquerading as physical titillation." He sighed. "It was the last game we ever played together." He started to sing the song again, and this time the children were practically shaking in anticipation of more tickling. Penny tapped Leonard on the head.

"I'll go and get the fruit snacks," she said, and walked off towards the kitchen.

Sheldon and Amy ascended the stairs to Lise-Marie's home, a house that was modest in size but undeniably stately with a manicured exterior and a high-columned porch. They could hear the sounds of merrymaking inside. Sheldon rang the doorbell. As they waited, Amy spotted something.

"Look," she said, nodding towards the lawn. Sheldon looked in the direction that she was indicating, but didn't see anything of interest. "It's a statue of Perchta," she explained. "The Nordic goddess known to cut open the stomachs of those who crossed her and fill them with hay and pebbles."

"Considering my current state of hunger, that almost sounds appealing," Sheldon said. He rang the bell again, growing impatient.

Just then, the door opened.

ENDNOTE: Hope you enjoyed and see you next chapter. Lionne6 for prez! She's a workhorse.