I wanted to thank you all for your response to the story. It's been amazing.

A further shout to my co author who makes this story better all the time. Thank you, Theresa!

Now, on with the show!

Sheldon

Over the days that followed, Sheldon's scheduled conversations with Moxie continued as before. The uncomfortable discussion of their sexual orientation was dropped in favor of more tantalizing topics such as Ms. Moxie's recent obsession of knitting tea cozies with dental floss and Sheldon's secret love of hacky sack as a result of a 25-year-old bet with this brother that he couldn't reach over 42 tries. Not to mention the etymology of the color puce and the debatable subject of which was the best on sale Halloween candy. Obviously Red Vines or Sour Patch Kids, but Moxie thought Kit Kats.

During these exchanges, he became more comfortable, more emotionally open to Ms. Moxie than he had ever been with any of his friends. And so without realizing it, from the novelty of the first few days, Sheldon became as dependent on their correspondence, as he did the setting of the thermostat or a well-stocked medicine cabinet.

However, Sheldon's harmony concerning his immediate friendships was cruelly broken the following Saturday morning, after a heated quarrel with Leonard. Sheldon's new routine, after his morning ablations, had been shattered due to Leonard's inconsiderate and selfish behavior. Like an unclosed parenthesis or a late returned video tape, Sheldon itched with the disruption to his perfect schedule. And to add insult to the injury of losing precious texting minutes, Leonard had had a totally uncalled for reaction to Sheldon's fining him for not replacing the empty toilet roll, or recording its usage on their computer data base to ensure sufficient stocks in hand in case of an Zombie apocalypse.

Leonard yelled at him, "What difference did it make. You take thirty seconds and replace the roll while you do your business." Leonard went to the cabinet and pulled out the extras and shook them at Sheldon, "AND WE HAVE SIX ROLLS LEFT! There's plenty! It's not like were in a global crisis that would cause a run on toilet paper." He threw the roll at Sheldon, who fumbled to catch it.

Sheldon replaced the roll and said calmly, "My business is done in a precise order. First I -"

Leonard cut off his explanation by yelling that he didn't need a blow by blow account of every bathroom action because he was already full of piss and vinegar. Sheldon yelled back that maybe if Leonard spent as much time in the bathroom as he did in the bedroom, he might learn to do a more efficient performance in both areas. Leonard stormed out of the apartment vowing never to return. As the door slammed shut, Sheldon screamed at him, "Good Riddance!" And immediately texted Ms. Moxie.

"I am done with Wheezy and all people forever."

"Okay Sheldon. Tell me everything."

Sheldon told Ms. Moxie the entire fight, and as he expounded on the faults and failures of Leonard as a roommate, a thought struck him and he texted:

"You should be my roommate. It's the only logical conclusion."

"Excuse me?"

"Think about it, Moxie. We get along, you find my conversations appealing, and we are compatible in every way that matters, though I would like to discuss your aversion to online gaming."

"Hold on a minute, Sheldon..."

Moxie left the text message with those annoying three dots that told him she was writing a lot. She took 5 long minutes for her to reply, but then he received only a short message:

"Before we move in together, I have a few issues."

"Okay, but I have to tell you, I have to have the apartment on Friday nights for Vintage game night. Mondays for Thai and Tuesday are for Mystic Warlords of Ka'ah. Also, I need the apartment quiet on nights I do my Fun with Flags Podcast."

"Well "Fun With Flags" does sound interesting, but let's table that for a minute. How do you know I don't play the Tuba, or salt my food before I taste it? Or have a cat?"

"I do love cats."

Sheldon smiled and continued,

"As for salting the food, everyone has a past. And you know, I have been thinking of taking up the Tuba. Or, I could teach you the Theremin. An unappreciated yet versatile instrument, I find."

"Sheldon. I don't want to learn the Theremin."

"See? Unappreciated, You'll see, you'll love it. The low tones vibrate in your bones like guttural wind chimes. I am sure that it is much better than any boring instrument you may play."

Despite the fact that Ms. Moxie still remained somewhat of a mystery, since their awkward discussion on relationships, Ms. Moxie occasionally dropped a few pearls of information regarding her habits and had once mentioned that she played a few musical instruments. However, none were as cool as a Theremin.

"Oh, additionally, I need you to send a bathroom schedule."

"I need a bathroom schedule?"

"Of course. I am sorry to say, there is only one bathroom. We will have to share, but you can keep your girly things in a basket. I know you like order. Wheezy has an 84% compliance record. I bet you could beat it."

"I bet I couldn't. But look ... don't you think you are rushing this. You don't even know my real name."

"You are right. I will need that name to run your credit check. Also, your social security number, if you please,"

As he waited for her response, he walked back to Leonard's bedroom to start taking measurements for Ms. Moxie's things. He remembered that she had mentioned she had a queen size bed. Well, that certainly would not fit into the smaller bedroom. Maybe he would consider changing rooms with Ms. Moxie. Admittedly it would be a sacrifice and Sheldon was starting to twitch at the thought when Ms. Moxie replied:

"Listen Sheldon, I really think you need to think this through."

Sheldon nearly stamped his foot as impatience replaced his automatic response to any possible accommodation changes,

"I have thought it through. I think about it all the time. Every time Wheezy cuts his toenails over the toilet."

"He does that and still has an 84% rating?"

Sheldon grumbled but had to reply truthfully,

"Well, he has been getting better."

"I'd hate to think about what he was like before."

"I've put in years of training."

"See? You don't want to throw away all that training time, but more importantly, I really do think you would miss your friend. You have been together for a long time and the change might be upsetting to you."

Since Leonard's marriage, the living arrangements at 4A had been unsatisfactory, to say the least. Initially, Leonard had remained at 4A but selfish as usual he had started to spend more and more time at Penny's. Sheldon didn't like the reminder of the years he spent working on Leonard's habits just to have him throw all that training away. Such a waste of time.

"Maybe. Or maybe I am more able to adapt to change than people give me credit for."

"I know that you do dislike change, yet in the short time that I have known you, you have become a little more flexible, changing your routine slightly. However, changing your roommate is a big step."

Sheldon had told her previously about his routines, though he had not mentioned his bathroom schedule, and she had been quite impressed at how handled his time. He continued his plea to her,

"Yes... I know it. He mostly lives across the hall with Sleepy but it's so sporadic. They have been married for a while, but he still has a room here for his things. I'm done with him now. Besides, you and I get along so well."

"Sheldon, we haven't physically spoken to each other, let alone met in person. Maybe one day we could consider a more personal relationship, but at this point, aren't you content with this arrangement? Look at your current situation: close proximity has damaged your relationship with your friend. I don't want to risk that with us. Our friendship is too important to me. "

Sheldon thought about his recent argument with his friend and reluctantly realized that she was right.

"Yes... I suppose you are right. I just want Wheezy to follow the rules set forth in the roommate agreement."

"Roommate agreement? What is that?"

Sheldon told her about the roommate agreement and the reasoning for it, namely that it outlined standards of behavior with rules to ensure they were adhered to. Ms. Moxie found the concept of an agreement intriguing and applauded Sheldon's forethought in getting the rules of the relationship upfront and in writing. Validation of Sheldon's rationale calmed his ruffled feathers and he offered to write one for their relationship, to which Ms. Moxie approved.

However, as Sheldon pointed out, such an agreement would be too large to text. Ms. Moxie agreed and suggested that she set up a special e-mail account just for him. Sheldon was overjoyed. The establishment of the e-mail system was the next step to opening their conversations beyond their texts.

He had never really mastered the art of quick lengthy texts that Ms. Moxie seemed to be so adept at. But with this extension to their communications they would now be able to fully explore each other's minds. Whilst she set up the new shared email account under the name Sheldon and Moxie, he happily went off to draft their Friendship Agreement which he would make sure would stipulate that texts would in future be for emergencies, or brief exchanges of their shared jokes and interesting factoids. It was their first collaboration.

Once the agreement was completed, Sheldon e-mailed it to the address she had texted him and waited impatiently for her response. Though Ms. Moxie was happy with the content, she insisted on using their pseudonyms, rather than their real names to finalize the contract. Sheldon reluctantly acquiesced and allowed the document to be signed under their 'assumed' names. Although he still enjoyed their anonymous relationship, for some reason signing a document under an assumed names seemed to give him a hollow feeling.

Sheldon spent the rest of the day sending numerous emails to Ms. Moxie including a copy of the Roommate agreement that he had with Leonard, with the name changed to protect his identity and the addendum when he married Penny.

Upon viewing the agreement, Ms. Moxie wondered if the rules were a little restrictive, though she did agree that they were rational, and made some suggestions that she felt might make living with Leonard more tolerable. Sheldon was so thrilled to have someone who fully appreciated his perfect grammar and grasp of the legal system. He was more than amenable to any changes and drafted a new Roommate agreement. Leonard would technically still be Sheldon's roommate and as such was still on the hook for grocery shopping, but with sleepovers at 4B. It also stipulated that all social gatherings would still be held at 4A.

Leonard returned to 4A that evening having spent the day bemoaning his lot to Penny and was pleasantly surprised to find Sheldon in an amicable mood. Leonard knew his storming out would only have served to tighten the noose around his neck. So the last thing he expected on his return was to be given a new improved Roommate Agreement.

Sheldon explained that he had sent his new friend a copy of the Roommate agreement and that she had agreed that the rules contained therein were reasonable; however, she had suggested a few adjustments to their agreement to allow for Leonard's unreliable nature. The new agreement was more than Leonard could have hoped for given Sheldon's inflexible history, but Leonard certainly was not going to question it, nor did he comment on his 'unreliability'.

Instead, Leonard told Sheldon he was thankful for his friendship with this mystery woman, and that he was happy that Sheldon's girlfriend had been able to calm him down. At Leonard's continued reference to Ms. Moxie as his girlfriend, Sheldon's earlier calm flew away and he spent the next 10 minutes repeating the fact that she was not his girlfriend, but a friend who was a girl.

Exasperated, Leonard said, "Then what do we call her. The girl who is not your girlfriend? That applies to all women."

"Call her Moxie."

Leonard muttered, "I call her crazy for talking to you."

"Really, so do we now call Penny desperate for marrying you, is that where this is going?" Sheldon's face was getting as red as the flash T-shirt he was currently wearing.

"A Moxie it is..." Leonard shut up about Ms. Moxie.

#

Now that the e-mail was up and running, Sheldon spent an enjoyable weekend, writing Ms. Moxie long letters expanding more on the topics they had briefly texted about. But also on things he had never told the others, such as his secret storage unit containing everything he had ever owned, childhood heroes that he wrote to every week, and a further breakdown of his bathroom schedule. Her responses to each of his letters made him feel that he was no longer an outcast, that with all his idiosyncrasies, that he was accepted for himself.

An annoying encounter with Lesley Winkle during lunchtime the following Monday required Sheldon to initiate the emergency clause in the Friendship Agreement as he rushed back to his office and texted Ms. Moxie.

"What did she say?"

"She said I was a 6'1 toddler who could only find string theory if it was attached to ball and paddle."

"You're 6'1?"

Sheldon still steamed over Lesley Winkle and her taunts. Sheldon had been unable to admit to anyone that he had been bothered by his lack of a breakthrough in String Theory. That, hating to admit it even to himself, he had been stuck. And though none of his friends knew this, he was hurt that they had not defended him, but had actually found the jibe funny and laughed.

Ms Moxie texted again,

"Forgive me. I should have said, she had no business commenting on your field of study. That is sacred ground, and anyone who has any manners should know that."

"Thank you for that, Ms. Moxie."

Sheldon swiveled his chair to look out the window. People milling about the campus laughing and talking to each other so easily. Sheldon could talk, of that there was little doubt, but no one seemed to ever want to hear what he had to say. He could see the looks on his friend's face, the barely hidden smiles whenever someone teased him. The darting eyes to each other, signaling they caught a joke that he could not. He drew in a breath and texted back to her.

"I just wish I could read minds. I wonder if I can find a neuroscientist to help me. Maybe one needle to the brain would do the trick."

Moxie took a rather long time to text back and Sheldon nearly checked that his phone hadn't lost cell service. After 5 minutes on "read" she wrote back.

"Well a good neuroscientist is hard to find. I think it would take more than just one needle. Not to mention that you hate needles."

As Sheldon contemplated her text, another quickly followed.

"Anyway, why would you want to know what people think? Most people's random thoughts are banal at best."

"Agreed, but if I had that power then I could tell if someone was joking or laughing at me. Or if they were mad at something I have done or they were just in a bad mood. Often, I find that the group treats me like a child. They have hidden jokes or little eye rolls that they think I don't see. I see it all, and it hurts me."

"I know it does. I am sorry they do that to you."

Sheldon smiled to himself as he replied,

"If I could read their minds, I would know when they make fun of me, and perhaps understand why. I just wish I had had that ability when I was young."

"Why they do it is easy. You are different. Every child that is different is teased, and every child is different in some way. Everyone gets teased when they are young, but I suspect that you have been teased for most of your life."

Sheldon rose to shut his office door, symbolically trying to shield the world from his vulnerable state. Once again, he opened his emotions up to her as he had never done to anyone else before. He needed to explain how emotionally exposed he felt every day. For some reason, he did not feel vulnerable with her.

"It was terrible. The constant taunts from lesser minds simply because they didn't understand my genius."

"I will never understand the cruelty of children. I wonder if it was because you were always in a state of asynchronistic development with the other children, you could never relate to them. Most gifted children feel that way."

"It's true. I have often felt out of time with others my age, even with my twin sister. I was always years ahead of them academically, but socially I was always playing catch up."

And as ever, her response showed that Ms. Moxie knew exactly what to say. The words that came across his phone comforted him more than he realized he needed. He had something with her that he had never experience before: Empathy.

"Your mind was too busy with the mysteries of the universe to craft socially acceptable relationships but that doesn't mean you can't. It just means that you need a little more time than most."

"Exactly. But now I have a circle of friends, yet intimacy and platonic bonding still seems to allude me. But by far the worse is Leslie Winkle, she treats me as I was treated as a child"

"Yes, and now that you are both older, she should know better. Forget about her! She is just goading you. I will email you some replies you can use on this person the next time you are accosted by her."

Sheldon sprung up in his chair in delight,

"Oh thank you. That will fix her little red wagon for sure."

"Good. Now that she is a non-issue, I still want to talk about your anti-social issues."

Sheldon slumped back in his chair,

"I don't have anti-social issues! Just an intolerance for stupid people."

"Sure, I get that. However, I know that developing social relationships or keeping emotional equilibrium is more difficult for advanced children. I speak from experience."

"Really? You were teased as well?"

As with most of their interests and intellect, Ms. Moxie mirrored Sheldon, however, this time with the shared experience of childhood terrorism. The Law of the Conservation of Pain dictates that shared pain decreases the effect.

"Let's say I have the scars to prove it. Remind me to tell you about the Otter story, but back to you. You do have a social group, and keeping friends takes effort. You have to work at it, Sheldon."

However, Sheldon still harbored his ill feelings for his group's lack of support and added,

"Fine. I will try, but Sneezy is grating on me lately. Oh, we need to change his name from Sneezy to something else since his wife gives him pills for hay fever. I suggest Dopey. Despite his allergies, he still seems unable to avoid peanuts. Obviously, he is not smart and after all he is just an engineer without a Doctorate so Dopey fits."

"That's mean, Sheldon."

"Fine... how about Happy because of his committed relationship status."

Sheldon thought about his choice of words. Happy? For a relationship? From his observations relationships rarely brought happiness. However, though Sheldon had difficulty in judging emotions, Howard did seem to be happier lately, he had all the signs of a happier person according to Sheldon's copy of the "Guide to Understanding Facial Expressions" a tome that Ms. Moxie had recommended he read. Howard had all the signs of happy: He smiled a lot whenever he looked at Bernadette or talked about her or their children and he was positive about life in general. Being committed to one person appeared to suit his personality better than the coitus fixated oaf he was before. Howard seemed to like the tight ropes of relationship, even with the noose around his neck. Good thing Sheldon didn't have to contend with such a requirement, but Howard was a lesser man, so it was a good fit.

Ms. Moxie texted back:

"I agree. Happy is good. Ok, then you need backups. Think about trying to find some new friends. I know making friends is hard, believe me, but you have proved you can do it. It can be like a game."

"I do love games."

"Good. I will play as well. Let's try and have two new friends by the end of next week. Ready?"

"Set!"

"GO!"

Sheldon knew she was serious because she had used three exclamation points. She had only ever done that when he disparaged her love of the 1970's crooner Engelbert Humperdinck and she had responded that he was "THE BEST!" Sheldon placed the phone in his pocket and emerged from his office a new man with a mission: Make more friends. He knew none of them would be as good as Ms. Moxie, but he could at least try. For her sake.

#

Moxie

"I am done with Wheezy and all people forever!"

Was his first text of Saturday morning and she knew something was wrong. He told her the whole argument with Wheezy his roommate, but the next text seemed a joke.

"You should be my roommate."

He said, not as an inquiry but as a prescription for his current dilemma.

"Roommates?" She said aloud at such a volume that her neighbor banged on the wall. Sheldon could be so silly, she thought at she picked her latest knitting project off the floor. A man in the next room; what would that be like? His heavy breathing through the thin walls as he snored in his sleep. Theremin lessons, navigating his TV schedule and dietary requirements. And bathroom schedules! Her hands furiously clicked the needles together fast enough to start a fire as she imagined him walking naked from the shower to his bedroom.

His banal fight with his friend might lead to him losing his friend completely and she knew him well enough that the split would destroy him. She realized the same could happen to her if they were in close proximity. Not worth the risk she thought, so she had to put this tantrum to bed like an unruly 2-year-old.

His idea of a friendship agreement gave her some peace. She set up the e-mail address and they now had a legal document that proved she had a friend. One that wouldn't leave her. For a person who always thought she didn't need such an arrangement, she couldn't help to feel something akin to comfort. Everything would stay the same. Hemostasis could be so therapeutic.

She smiled at Sheldon's 'emergency' text clause. Sure, there were silly things about zombies, and such, but how bad could it be.

By the next week, she found out, when the 'emergency' text clause was initiated no sooner than the following Monday. Sheldon had had yet another fight and again was experiencing the all too familiar cruelty of this Leslie Winkle. Moxie couldn't abide this know-it-all woman, and his current friends seemed to be less than supportive. But the whole conversation was almost derailed when he said he was 6'1. She felt that strange feeling again; a localized vascular throbbing. She had to ignore it and help Sheldon.

When he said he needed a neuroscientist, she almost told him she was the best in the field. But something stopped her.

He needed new friends. This idea had been fermenting in her mind since he told her of Wheezy and Sleepy's marriage and their bizarre sleeping arrangements. She had made a suggested amendment to the Roommate Agreement that could temporarily ease matters, but it would only be a matter of time before that changed. Added to that was Happy's new commitments with his children, and she was sure that Bashful's parents would not be dragging their heels in getting him a partner. No, Sheldon needed backup friends.

So she had suggested a game. Though the use of the adjective "New" was a little bit of fib. She didn't have any friends, let alone finding two "new" ones, but she promised Sheldon.

And after all, how hard could it be?

So on Monday morning, wearing the socially acceptable amount of lipstick and sporting a new blouse, she had set off for work. She worked mostly alone, so finding companionship meant she needed to venture to more communal areas. An Internet search revealed that social gathering places garnered the best results. However as noisy crowded bars intimidated her, she had decided to look closer to home and try the coffee break room.

At the coffee maker, she filled a small cup so as not to look out of place. A couple of men from another department were discussing the weekend sporting events, while another three women debated the best use of eye liner. Given the choice, she opted for the men. She knew nothing of makeup given how long it had taken her to apply the stuff on her lips, so she drew on Sheldon's tutelage of football for topics.

She inched toward the men, waiting for a lull the conversation. Though it was the stout man with a plaid shirt and tie who looked the more intimidating, it was the tall thin gentleman who dominated the conversation. A good three minutes had passed before Mr. Beanpole paused for breath. Then holding her paper cup in a tight grip, she girded her loins, cleared her throat and jumped in.

"I hear you discussing the weekend's sporting game between the Cowboys and the Native Americans. I would like to weigh in."

Mr. Beanpole turned towards her with a frown, and stated, "It's the Cowboys and the Redskins."

"I wanted to make our conversation more PC for an office environment. Back to the original topic, don't you think the defense strategy lacked a certain German military panache."

"Uh?" Mr. Beachball's dead-eyed stare told her he might have imbibed over the weekend or perhaps he played the game himself, and suffered from a brain injury. Either way, she needed to clarify.

"Blitz. You know, like the German word for lighting, or the military strategy, or in this case of gridiron American football, a defense strategy of disrupting offensive passing."

The other man asked, "But the Cowboy's blitz mostly worked. They hardly made a point against each other the whole game."

"I see. Then their proper employment of this strategy led to victory. Go Cowboys." She said it with little enthusiasm.

"They lost."

"Oh, maybe they should have used the blitzing thing more." This was about the extent of her football knowledge. Since she had blown the wad chatting up the men, she decided to try to chat up the women instead.

So, before the men could ask any more questions, she said, "If you will excuse me." She put down the coffee cup and quickly moved over to the group of women whose conversation had morphed from makeup to fashion.

She heard one of the women talk about booties. She knew all about booties from when she had knitted 20 pairs for her cousin's baby shower. At least these girls could share a common hobby.

"It's easier if you do three rows of purl before you start on the stocking stitch."

"What? We are talking about booties, you know boots that come to the ankles..." All three women looked at her feet, and one of the girls rolled her eyes. Ms. Moxie knew she was out of her depth and deciding not to engage further with them, she despondently went back to her work area alone, her eyes glued to her non-ankle hugging foot ware.

She repeated this ritual each work day with similar results. The discussion of penis envy didn't seem to go over with the men too well, and the girls cringed at the mention of menses. Every day, she returned to her lab for solace with Engelbert Humperdinck playing in the background. She had attempted to find friends, and even tried to chat up the mail man, the cable guy and her gynecologist, but it was all for naught.

So, she had really tried to make new friends as per her promise to Sheldon. It had been one of the most difficult things she had had to do in her life. She might as well have promised she could win a Nobel Prize in Physics or cure cancer, both seemed more likely.

Sunday evening came and she had to report the project a bust. She had failed, and that fact was the last thing she wanted to admit, especially to him.

She contacted him at the usual time, and waited for him to scold her, but instead, he asked her about knitting. Strange topic, since she thought he was never interested, but they spent the next 10 minutes e-mailing back and forth with him about dental floss and knitting patterns. When he said he felt ill discussing dental floss since it reminded him of his neighbor's habit of using it at the dinner table, she told him to go lay down, and settle his stomach.

She had a reprieve. One extra week to meet the challenge, but she knew it still wouldn't be enough. Making friends was never her forte.

Finding a good Neuroscientist is so hard these days... Poor Sheldon.

I hope you like the HINTS I have been dropping about the identity of Ms. Moxie. Such a Vixen.

Speaking of Identity here is a little key for you:

Happy is Howard Formally Sneezy

Doc is Bernadette

Sleepy is Penny

Wheezy is Leonard

Raj is Bashful

Drop a review if you like, and tell me what you think! I live for feedback. Just like on sale Halloween Candy, I gobble it up!

Thanks again to everyone!