Note the date! The times, they are a-changin' . . .

Thank you in advance for your reviews!


The Fowler Cooper Publication Federation

March 2026

Primary Topic: Sherlock Holmes: The Thinking Engine by James Lovegrove

Additional book(s) mentioned: The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage by Sydney Padua, Star Wars: A New Hope - The Princess, the Scoundrel, and the Farm Boy by Alexandra Bracken, the Anne of Green Gables series by L. M. Montgomery, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J. K. Rowling, The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana by Vatsyayana (translated by Richard Burton), and Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen


There were no unnecessary pauses, no hesitations, no stumbles. The words flowed smoothly and surely. It was the voice of confidence. Although it was still the higher pitched voice of a child, at times Sheldon thought he could detect hints of the deeper timbre that her mother possessed. He wanted to tilt his head down, so it was resting on hers, to relish the sound of her voice as she finished reading the chapter to him, but he knew from experience that would only cause her to halt, roll her eyes, and say, "Stop it, Dad. That's weird." So he contented himself in the knowledge that even though he obviously wouldn't ever get a mini-Amy to look at in adoration, he just might get another matching voice to soothe his soul.

Gone were the days of their cuddles, although the reading before bed ritual had remained unchanged. Some details were different - Ada took turns, reading aloud - but he still found himself sitting next to her on her bed every other evening at eight for a chapter or two of the latest book. Eight o'clock wasn't even her bedtime anymore, not officially, but Ada preferred to be in bed by then, herself, if possible, and she would sit and read either until she feel asleep or, if the book was especially suspenseful, until one of her parents looked in before they went to bed and said firmly, "Lights out, Ada. Go to sleep."

Sheldon looked down over her shoulder, past her still-damp hair, as the end of the chapter rapidly approached. It was, he knew, a magical time. His little girl, only eight years old but so poised for her age, obviously so intelligent, mature enough to interact with and have important conversations with, but still young enough to smile and laugh and play games with him. Sometimes, sitting at the dining table, pouring over her homework ("Go away, Dad! I don't need your help!"), she looked so old, and he could feel her tugging away from them. But then, not much later, she would cheer and run across the room, racing to beat him to whatever scheme he plotted for their next adventure ("Last one there is a rotten egg!"). For now, she was still excited for their once monthly trips to Stuart's store to stock up on their favorite comic books followed by a secret stop at McDonald's. For now, he was still both her hero and her playmate. The attitude and skepticism of the tween years were yet upon them. But he saw them coming: her classmates were older and their verbal impertinence was bound to start rubbing off on her soon. There were already hints of it.

For now, he had the sense he was living in the last few moments of a golden hour of fatherhood. The only thing better was looking over at Amy at those heart-expanding times and sharing a smile with her. It always reminded him of that scene at the end of The Theory of Everything: "Look at what we made."

"Dad, will you do my hair like Princess Leia's for school tomorrow?" Ada said as she closed her iKindle.

"Oh, um, I'm afraid not." Sheldon looked down into her blue eyes surrounded by her bright purple glasses frames, surprised to find the end of the chapter had slipped away from him, unheard in his reverie. "I'm not a coiffeur like your mother. It's regular braids and pony tales until she returns."

"It's just two regular braids and you twist them around like a cinnamon roll. An Archimedean spiral," Ada said pointedly.

Sheldon raised his eyebrows. "Well, I guess when you explain that way . . . Very well, we'll try it together."

Ada nodded and then sighed. "Why does she have to leave so much?"

He didn't even have to ask to whom she was referring, because his logic fought that question every day that she was gone. "It's part of her job, you know that. Your mother has made a very important discovery with profound practical implications for the world of neuro-ophthalmology. She has to go out and tell people about it, spread the knowledge, explain her work. And then others will attempt to replicate her work. If it can repeated and confirmed, which I'm sure it can be, then her success and fame will be assured," Sheldon explained. "Her absence is only greater this first year because her final findings were just published. Then the work will fall to others and she'll start another study." He paused and added, softly, "But, yes, I don't like her being gone so much, either." Then more upbeat: "Don't forget we're going with her to London in June. That'll be fun."

"Someday will you make a discovery and have to go away a lot, too?"

"Maybe," he mumbled. Then he remembered to whom he was speaking. "But even when I do, I won't want to be gone from you and Mom, any more than your mother does from us now. Speaking of which, I need to leave soon to call her. We have an appointed time as it's Book Club Night." They had already talked, of course; there were numerous texts during the day and the usual post-school FaceTime with Ada earlier.

"The Thinking Engine?" Ada asked.

Sheldon raised an eyebrow. "Why, yes. How did you know?"

"When I read it, I could tell you were reading it, too. It kept telling me where you were." Ada shrugged.

"Wait, you read The Thinking Engine?"

"It's on the family cloud, Dad. I just downloaded it. Duh."

"Ada!" Sheldon used his firm voice. "Why are you not allowed to use that word?"

"Because it's disrespectful to my elders," Ada mumbled, looking away. "Sorry."

"Apology accepted." Sheldon took a breath. "Did you like it? The book?"

"It was okay. There were words I had to look up, and that was exciting." Ada looked back up. "Don't worry, I added them to my vocabulary list."

"Because your iKindle does that automatically." Duh, Sheldon stopped himself from adding. He wasn't quite sure what to make of this revelation. Was this a good thing or a bad thing? Advanced reading, more vocabulary words: good. This particular story, that included references to domestic violence, murder, and drug use: probably bad for an eight-year-old, no matter her reading level and intelligence. Not to mention that gory finale battle. "Did you finish it?"

"No. It was confusing," Ada confessed. "Sorry."

"Why are you sorry? Because you were confused?" Sheldon was familiar with that concept. Confusion always caused regret in his mind.

"No. Mom says admitting confusion is a sign of intelligence. I'm sorry because you don't like it when I leave things unfinished."

"Oh." Dipping his eyebrows, Sheldon thought, trying to imagine what wise words Amy would have in this situation. "Well, it depends on what you've left unfinished. I think, when it comes to a book you're not reading for a school assignment, it's acceptable to leave it uncompleted if it confuses you. But, in that case, I think you should then ask your mother or I about it, so we can discuss it. Your mother excels at explaining difficult books." He reached down to take her little hand, which she would still usually allow, provided there were none of her friends around. Ada squeezed back with her smaller fingers. "Was there something in your reading that you did like?"

"I liked it when the guy that made the machine made it talk like Siri. And is a telegraph like the Internet? Like the old Internet, before WiFi? He said the machines would talk to each other with wires."

"Yes, I suppose in the most simplistic terms the telegraph is a precursor of the Internet." Sheldon smiled, pleased that she had focused on the scientific aspects of the novel and not the worrisome adult plot points.

"But I didn't like that Watson kept calling it Babbage's machine. Ada Lovelace helped, too!" His daughter pulled her hand away to cross her arms.

Sheldon raised his eyebrows. He wasn't surprised that his Ada knew who Ada Lovelace was - they had given her a virtual copy of The Thrilling Adventures of Lovelace and Babbage for her birthday a couple of years ago, and his Ada loved it - but rather by the force of her opinion.

"You do know that the stories in your graphic novel aren't real, correct? It was Babbage who built the machine. Lovelace invented the binary code for a secondary hypothetical machine that was never built," Sheldon explained.

"I know what's real and what isn't! But this machine was supposed to be that machine, Ada's machine, but bigger and smarter!" Ada protested, a little furrow appearing between her thin eyebrows.

Biting his lip, Sheldon nodded. Few things thrilled him more than when he saw Amy's indignation coming out in their daughter. "That is an excellent argument, Ada." An idea sparked in his head. "Would you like to join us for Book Club this evening? Since you've read part of the book, too?"

He waited for her to wiggle excitedly, to be thrilled at this rare inclusion into one of the private rituals of her parents. It had happened a couple of times before because they were all together somewhere, and she usually leapt to get to do this adult and special event with them

"No."

"No!"

Ada screwed up her face. "You just ending up kissing and it's gross."

"What?" Sheldon's heart stopped. Was it possible - No, surely not, one of them always checked to make sure Ada was in bed, usually sound asleep, before they firmly shut their heavy door behind them to enjoy what had become the second ritual of Book Club. "What do you mean, we end up kissing?"

"You do. You say you hate the book or it's illogical and Mom laughs and kisses you and then she says she loves it and why she loves it and you decide she's right and then you kiss her back. Too much kissing. It's gross."

He let out a big breath of relief. Just kissing, apparently. "We can't kiss tonight. It's FaceTime."

Shaking her head, Ada said, "Then you look like you want to kiss but you can't and it's more gross! It's like you're kissing with your minds or something. Weird and gross!"

Before he could inquire about what, exactly, Ada thought kissing with your mind was - and explain that was strictly forbidden to her for another twenty years or so - his phone chimed. "That will be your mother."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and accepted the FaceTime call, grinning broadly as Amy's face popped on the screen. Two more days and she'd be back! Even though he and Ada got along well in her absence, he missed his helper, his wife more than he could say. "Hello, Amy!"

"Hi, Mom."

"Good evening! Am I interrupting reading time?" Amy smiled on the screen.

"No, we finished. We were just, um, chatting," Sheldon explained.

While it was true that Amy had a far superior poker face than he did, Sheldon still noticed the slightest quiver of her eyebrows. Oh, well, there was no way he wasn't going to tell her everything, anyway.

"I see," she said. Translation: I can't wait for you to tell me everything later, Sheldon. "Did you finish your book yet? Which one are you two reading again? The Star Wars one?"

That was a change to bedtime reading, too. Now Amy and Ada read one book, while Ada and Sheldon read another. That way no one missed any part of the story. It also gave Ada a broader base, as they usually picked different categories. Right now, she and Amy were gobbling their way through all the Anne of Green Gables books at an alarming rate of speed.

"No. We'll finish tomorrow," Ada said. "And then I want to read Harry Potter."

"Excellent choice, kiddo," Sheldon said, looking down at her, even as he still held his phone in front of them. "Now say goodnight to your mother."

"Goodnight, Mom!" Ada blew a kiss, as had been her habit since a certain FaceTime call years ago.

"Goodnight, sweetheart!" Amy blew one back. "I love you."

"Can I call you back in just a second? From the other room?" Sheldon asked Amy.

"Of course. I'll be waiting. Bye!" Her face disappeared from the screen.

Sheldon lowered the phone, got up, kissed Ada on the forehead with his own wishes for sweet dreams, confirmed that Belle was content to stretch out at her feet, and shut Ada's bedroom behind him as he left. After he had gone down the hall and across the great room, he shook his mouse to wake his computer even before sitting down at his desk. The screen brightened, his desktop a photograph of he and Amy flanking Ada as she held her science fair first place trophy. He couldn't help but grin at it as he instructed Siri to call Amy.

As expected, Amy was waiting for him. "Are you having fun with Ada? Is she behaving?"

"She's behaving. Generally. We argued last night. There was whining about her chore chart again and then she started rolling her eyes and having that attitude, and you know I just cannot deal with whining and eye-rolling. Which somehow morphed into a fight about why she cannot have her own iPhone yet. I sent her to her room. Which meant I had to empty the dishwasher and feed Belle myself, after all. And I'm now convinced sending her to her room with her book and her cat isn't even a punishment to her anymore." Sheldon shook his head. Nothing about it had been fun, and the only slightly . . . interesting thing about it was how much Ada had reminded him of Amy, with her hands on her hips and that little line between her eyebrows.

"Sound like fun."

"No, it was - oh, sarcasm." Amy smiled. "Otherwise, though, she's been well-behaved. We're having an enjoyable time. But we'd be having more fun if you were here," Sheldon said.

"I miss you guys, too. But the only thing on my schedule after this is that trip to Berkley - I'll be gone just one night - and then London, when we'll all be together and taking a vacation. That's it; then I'm done, I promise," Amy said.

"I'll admit I'm looking forward to that in spite of the flight," Sheldon smiled. There was no doubt he would have preferred Amy to be home, even though he understand the necessity of her absence. Plus he was so very proud of her. However, he always looked forward to their video chats. It reminded him of the early days of their relationship, back when he was still denying they had a relationship. Here they were, years later, spouses and parents, and yet they were still the same, too. Amy was still the same wonderful conversationalist he had enjoyed so much then.

"So, do tell." She didn't even have to explain what she meant.

"Apparently we need to look into the parental control options on our cloud family library. Ada has been downloading our books and reading them. She, too, tried to read The Thinking Engine this month," Sheldon explained. "I'll do it; it's my fault, I set up her iKindle so she couldn't buy apps or go online, just read, but I never thought about our family library settings. Although I'll need your judgement on the books you've read and I haven't."

Amy's brow was furrowed. "Of course. I agree many of our novels have themes and events that are too mature for her. But at least it's not like we read anything pornographic."

"Yes, thankfully your little M-rated Pride and Prejudice fanfiction reading habit is housed on another website."

"Sheldon! What M-rated fanfiction?" Sheldon raised an eyebrow in a disbelieving fashion. Amy huffed. "And it's not a habit! I can stop reading anytime I want." She looked down. "I only read sometimes when I travel. And I always imagine you . . . "

"Well, of course you do. I'm much better looking than that Darcy fellow." Amy did that little head shake, small eye roll combination he loved. "Besides, I'm the only one you kiss with your mind."

"Kiss with my mind?"

Sheldon shared the story verbatim with his wife. They were both laughing at the end. "Do you think our Book Clubs really follow such an obvious pattern?" Amy asked.

"Not at all. She's only witnessed three of them," Sheldon said. Then he tilted his head. "Although, maybe the kissing part is true. I do wish you were here to kiss right now."

On the screen, Amy blushed and fluttered her eyelashes. Two more things Sheldon loved and missed about her. "So, Book Club, then?" she said.

"First, did you get that email from the school about extracurricular foreign language lessons next year?" Amy nodded. "Ada told me about it at dinner, too. She's very excited, she wants to do it. I haven't said anything to her yet, but if it meets three afternoons a week that will interfere with her piano lessons." He stopped and took a breath.

"Could we reschedule her piano lessons? That's just once a week," Amy suggested.

"I suppose so. I - I -" Sheldon licked his lips. "It pains me to say this, but I spent another excruciating hour yesterday listening to her piano lesson. I fear our little genius is not a musical genius," he admitted.

Amy chuckled. "I know! I don't know how the musical gene skipped her, but she can't carry a tune in a bucket."

"I've even tried explaining it as a math problem, and then she asked me if I could draw it geometrically!" Sheldon hung his head and shook it.

"So, what are you saying, Sheldon?" Amy prompted.

"I think we should let her stop piano lessons if she likes. Again, I haven't said anything to her. But it's clear she doesn't enjoy them, and her skill is minimal even after three years. In addition, I know you are worried about over-scheduling her."

"I agree. Let her have the choice, of course, but she can stop piano lessons and pick up another language if she prefers. Are there several options?"

Sheldon sighed. "She wants to do Japanese."

His wife's brow furrowed slightly. "Why is that bad?"

"Because she should either be taking advanced Spanish or starting Mandarin, they are far more practical. I would even settle for German, given the strong scientific history. She could read Einstein in his native language!"

"Why does she want to learn Japanese, did she say?"

Another sigh. "She said it looks pretty, that it's like drawing with words."

Amy smiled. "I think that's as good a reason as any. The Japanese have a distinct and beautiful visual aesthetic. Let her take Japanese if she wants."

Pursing his lips, Sheldon looked at his wife for a moment as she managed to hold his gaze. "What is the probability I am going to win a disagreement about this?"

Amy screwed up her lips. "Oh, I'd estimate 2.1%."

He made a little fluttering motion with his hand. "Okay, Japanese it is. Do you want me to tell her tomorrow or should we save it until you return? We don't have to sign up until next week."

"You can. She'll be so excited, I think. She's always had an aptitude for languages. Spanish is one of her favorite classes." Amy leaned closer to the screen and smiled. "There's plenty of time for other languages, Sheldon."

"Do you ever think that sometimes there isn't?"

Sitting back again, Amy's eyebrows dipped. "What do you mean?"

Shrugging, Sheldon said, "I don't know. Something about her reading tonight. She's so serious sometimes. And her voice is getting deeper. I can see it now: there's so little time for toys and games and then we'll have a teenager and then . . . "

"Aww, my sentimental old fool." Sheldon rolled his eyes. "Take her out tomorrow evening and do something crazy and silly and young. If anyone can uncover another's childish glee, it's you. You've been wanting to try that new laser guided mini golf place."

She was amazing, this woman! She always knew exactly what to say to cheer him up. "What a great idea, Amy! All the major countries of the world are represented, and I could tell her about the Japanese class right by the Tō-ji replica! If I do the math and figure out how to get the lasers to spell it out for me . . ."

Amy laughed. "Although now you've made it sound so appealing I want to be there!"

Sheldon sat back slightly. "So we'll wait until you're home. We'll all go together this weekend."

Amy nodded. "Thank you. Okay, Book Club? It's getting late here, I'll probably need to go to bed soon."

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry." Currently Amy was in Chicago, having traveled to a conference at Northwestern. "The Thinking Engine. Your pick."

He didn't have to say what the first question was; they'd been doing this long enough that Amy knew what was expected. "I wanted something lighter because I knew I'd be traveling, and there's all that excitement about Benedict Cumberbatch coming back to do one last Sherlock movie so it made me think Sherlock Holmes was just the thing. Plus, you love him and it's been awhile since we've read one."

"Why this one?" Sheldon asked. "Only because we've already read the four original novels by Conan Doyle?"

Amy's eyes widened. "Once I read the synopsis, I was sold. Sherlock having to battle a computational device to prove who has the greater ability for analytical thought? It's such a great idea. And it sounded like something you'd enjoy, too."

Sheldon grunted quietly. They had said, years ago, that they wouldn't pick books based on what they thought the other person would like, and yet, somehow, they had never been able to avoid that for long. Sheldon often found himself smiling, while he was making his selection, when he read about a book that he could imagine Amy getting all excited for, the way her eyes would glow and twinkle. Her smile was one of his greatest motivators.

"You were correct, as usual. I thoroughly enjoyed it, until the end. I think the idea was ingenious. I was pleased with the references to both the difference engine and the Mechanical Turk hoax in the 18th-century. You know I can't stand a historical novel that isn't well-researched. And, you'll be interested to know, our little genius also picked up on the references to proto-Siri and a nascent Internet over telegraph wires."

"Yes, I was quite pleased with how grounded in reality the machine seemed. Until the end, as you pointed out. The author, through Watson, did a wonderful job of explaining how wondrous it was to behold it for the first time. We take computers for granted today, but such basic binary machines would have been amazing and shocking at the time." Amy's eyes shifted and her hand raised, and Sheldon could watch her scanning something on the side of her screen. Of course, she would have her Kindle app open. She was always prepared. "Were you impressed with the vocabulary, Sheldon?"

"The vocabulary?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes. There were several very unusual rare words used here. Some I haven't seen in ages. I was impressed."

"Hmmm, I suppose so. But I preferred the references to math: 'The first ten prices in order. It's the most elegant and beautiful number sequence there is.'"

Amy smiled. "Ah, I marked that line, too. Because it reminded me so much of you. But, then, Sherlock Holmes always reminds me of you."

"I am both more intelligent and well behaved," Sheldon protested.

His wife chuckled, which he chose to ignore. "Let's just say you've matured nicely." She paused. "I'm not sure you would have liked it, but I liked that the reader got to see the weaker side of Sherlock in this book."

"He wasn't weak! He explained to Watson he only descended into drug use in order to make Watson's reaction genuine," Sheldon pointed out.

"I'm not convinced of that. We're constantly told how clever Sherlock is, what a master of disguise he is, but we're to believe that that he really couldn't fake going to the chemist and buying the laudanum and pretend to be holed up in his room? Seems rather simple to me. He could have just locked the door and read."

"Hhhmmrrppphh." Sheldon wished she'd change the topic. Now that she pointed it out, she was correct, of course. But he, for one, did not like to think of or see those he admired brought low. He shifted in his chair. "But, well, he's only human I suppose."

"Indeed. What did you think -"

"Amy?" Sheldon interrupted. She looked up, surprised. "Do you - do you ever feel that way? Not that you'll start taking drugs, not that. But, well, are you ever afraid that you'll end up being Watson instead of Sherlock?"

"What do you mean?" Amy leaned forward, her eyes intense.

"I mean, what if you end up being the sidekick, not the mastermind?" It came out in a rush.

"Sheldon?"

"Your whole life you think you're destined to change the world and you keep working and waiting and then it - no, nevermind." He shook his head. What ever made him think it was appropriate to bring this up? He was certain it wasn't even appropriate to think it, he was certain it made him less of a man, less worthy of Amy.

Amy's face changed as she obviously picked up her iPad and held it closer until her face filled the entire frame. "Sheldon, listen to me. You are a mastermind. Never doubt that. Your discovery is coming; if you knew when it would happen, then it wouldn't be an eureka moment. And I promise - I swear from the bottom of my heart - that is not why I picked this book. I had no idea that Watson would play such a pivotal role in the solution, that Watson would have to pick his friend up and dust him off and bring him back to greatness. I was not trying to say anything or send any sort of message about your own work -"

"No, no, Amy, I know you weren't," Sheldon interrupted.

"Let me finish." He saw a spark, something flash across Amy's face. "Listen, Sheldon. Do you remember before we were married and went to San Francisco together and then on the way home you told me that we were like binary stars?"

"Of course. It's what your ring is a reference to."

Those beautiful green eyes drifted down as she glanced at her ring, a soft smile spreading across her face. It was not dissimilar to the private smile Amy sometimes gave herself when Sheldon saw her admiring her ring, even after all these years, when she clearly thought he wasn't watching. It was not dissimilar to the satisfied smile he gave himself when he saw her doing just that.

"My point is," she looked back up, the smile gone, "that binary stars do not exist in stasis. As you mentioned at the time, they trade energy and gravity back and forth. Sometimes one star is primary, sometimes the other. The important thing is that they are forever locked together." She stopped and gazed at him. Even across the miles, across the ether of the Internet, her gaze could still weigh him down, but in a safe, compassionate way like a heavy duvet.

Sheldon licked his lips and whispered. "So you're saying I should be patient and content, that it is your time to shine right now, but that, some day, it will be mine."

"Exactly. But, just as importantly, everyone needs a sidekick. What would I do with out you these past few months? You've been wonderful, so supportive, so capable. You've been home alone with Ada far more than I would wish for any parent, and you've handled it wonderfully. Driving her to school, making her lunches and dinner, keeping her on task, keeping her happy. There is no one else in the world I would want for my Watson. My Watson with a Sherlock lurking behind his skull."

Sheldon smiled at her. How did she do that? Amy always said the right thing, Amy always made it better. "'I have operated under far greater strain than this previously. My powers are up to the task,'" he quoted.

He was rewarded with a smile as Amy lowered iPad again. Would it really be so bad to be her Watson forever? At that moment, basking in her smile, he didn't think that it would. Not that he would allow that to stop him, of course, from digging deeper everyday, to find the treasure that was buried somewhere within his mind, if only he could unlock it. Suddenly, it occurred to him that the secrets of the mind were Amy's purview; hadn't she just released one to the world? Is that what led their paths to cross all those years ago? Was she essential for his life, not just for the pages of reasons he could write about why his existence was better now with her, but because, in some way, she understood his synapses better than anyone else, that she would, in some indirect but vital way, help him chart the path through the cogs and wheels of his own mind? What if it was, his mouth opened slightly, fate?

"Sheldon, are you still with me?" Amy asked, her brow furrowed again.

Shaking his head, he let the idea fall away. "I just had the strangest and most illogical thought."

"Oh, what?" Amy said, relaxing.

"Nothing. Really. Utter rot. I'm concerned I even thought it for a second. It's beneath me. There was a quote in the book about just this type of thing that I especially liked: 'I do not hold with conjecture. Facts are my deities; anything else, heresy.'"

Amy tilted her head, and he wondered if she would allow him to dismiss it so easily. But then she blinked twice, a sure sign she was clearing her mind, and said, "I would be interested to know what you think of Sherlock's comments on marriage. Since he was a confirmed bachelor and you're a married man." He saw her fingers move across her end of the screen, "Here is it: '"Sometimes I envy men like you," he said to us, "unencumbered by martial obligations.'"

With his eidetic memory still intact, Sheldon did not need Amy to read any sentence or passage from a book to him. However, just like with Ada, he enjoyed the smooth, sure sound of her voice. It was disappointing it was only one brief sentence she read, when he was hoping she'd read the entire passage. She was watching him, expectedly, waiting for his answer. "I'm surprised you have to ask," he stated, "because Sherlock answers your question no more than three lines of dialogue later. 'A man who can adequately discharge his professional responsibilities as well as keeping his spouse happy is no less successful.'"

It was the same smile she had given him not that long ago, and it cleared things up tremendously. "Oh, I see now. Very clever, you little vixen."

Amy chuckled. "Enough of that, I think. We haven't talked very much about the mystery. I presume you knew what the general solution would be from the beginning, that the machine was really an instrument of the criminal, pre-loaded in some fashion with the correct responses?"

Sheldon nodded.

"Me, too. But I enjoyed getting there. Given that I was certain what would happen in the end, I was pleased at how suspenseful I found it. How intriguing all the clues were. I also liked how atmospheric it was. It really felt like Oxford. Oh! We should take the train up to Oxford one day while we're in London!" Amy's eyes sparkled. She had, as a senior at Harvard, taken a summer class at Oxford, and Sheldon knew it was one of her favorite places.

"Very well," he said and smiled. Amy grinned back and he knew he had pleased her, still a wonderful feeling. Then he added, "Even though I knew the basic solution to the mystery, I thought it was presented in an overwrought fashion."

"Great word," Amy murmured. "Go on."

"It was too much: who was running the machine and how and in what condition. And the weird relationship and the fighting. I don't have to tell you, you read it," he said.

Amy tilted her head. "I agree. For a book that was so focused on the mental conundrums, it did feel too physically forced and violent. The tone was off. The final solution should have been mental, too."

"Exactly!"

They looked at each other for a moment, and Sheldon felt a tug in his chest. Missing Amy, missing her physical presence for Book Club, missing her help with Ada, missing just being around the house or on little errands with her . . . Yes, he would definitely save the laser-guided-mini-golf-Japanese-lessons-reveal until she was home. If for no other reason than to watch her laugh as Ada jumped up and down with glee. Or not. Would it be playful childish Ada or this newer, older, composed Ada?

But Amy would still be there, laughing, regardless. Amy would be home.

Sheldon ducked his head slightly and lifted his short bangs out of the way.

"What are you doing?" Amy asked.

If he looked out of the top of his eyes, over his glasses, he could just see her on the screen. "Kissing you with my mind."

He was rewarded with great peals of laughter from Amy, and he joined her, lifting his head. He missed her laughter so much. He missed her presence in his life so much. He wasn't too proud to admit he missed her presence in his bed. Which reminded him of an idea he had last night; then, he had shrugged it away as impossible. But her laughter, her absence . . . As she was wiping tears of joy from her face, he tried to surreptitiously look something else up online.

"Oh, what's this one in your to-read queue? 'Rendezvous at Midnight?' 'Unable to sleep, Elizabeth wonders into the library at Netherfield just before midnight and discovers Mr. Darcy -"

"Oh my God, Sheldon! Stop it!" Amy called. "How do you know my password?"

"Please, I've known it for years." Sheldon bit the inside of his lips to keep from smiling. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. '. . . and discovers Mr. Darcy immersed in a book she has never heard of before. Which physical pleasures, exactly, will Mr. Darcy teach her from this ancient Indian text?'" Sheldon's eye shifted back to Amy's horrified face. "Doesn't this author know that the Kama Sutra wasn't published in English until 1883? And that Pride and Prejudice was published in 1813?"

"Stop it! Stop it!" There was a noise on the other side of the screen as Amy stood, the view of the hotel room shifting behind her. "I'm ending this call!" Her hand went up toward the screen.

"Wait! How about I read it aloud for your pleasure?" Sheldon asked quickly, his heart hammering. Perhaps he should have opened with that essential detail. Why else would he be interested in her poorly written, historically inaccurate smut?

There was a pause as Amy bent back down toward her screen. "Seriously?"

He shrugged. "Do you want me to?" he whispered.

"Only if you want," she replied softly.

Licking his lips, Sheldon said, "Maybe we should make ourselves comfortable first?"

"Sheldon Cooper, I love you so much," Amy said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Just remember that when you're imagining yourself in that musty library screaming Mr. Darcy's name. Switching to the iPad . . . "


The corresponding After Dark chapter is Chapter 52: Rendezvous.