A/N: I wish to offer an apology to you, the reader. This update has been far too long in the making, and to be honest is yet unfinished. At one reader's suggestion, I started to delve into how Amy would perceive "home," and I came to the realization that Amy's experience with each of her parents would be completely different. If "canon" Amy had only the incidents we have seen with her mother to associate with home, it would have been a dark place, indeed. There had to be another force to offset the near puritanical upbringing she is portrayed to have experienced, or Amy would never have been the kind, patient person she became. Thus, Rob was created. So, here, we have one side of the story… and the other side to come.

My gratitude, also, for your patience. I am facing a crossroads in my life, and it has engulfed my existence. I expect the resolution will take several months, but whichever path I choose, there will be pain and loss. The upheaval inside me is difficult to handle, to say the least. To quote a famous lady of a far better soul than mine: "I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much." So, thank you once again, for being patient with me and my story.

Thank goodness for air conditioning, thought Amy, as she reached back and pulled her hair upward into a plastic hair fastener at the base of her head. The slight breeze created by the flow of air felt like heaven over her newly exposed neck. Amy sighed and closed her eyes briefly, enjoying the all-too-brief peace and quiet… before leaving the bathroom and unbeknownst to her, exhibiting a slight waddle.

If any person ever required proof that their deity was male, one simply needed to observe a woman, heavily pregnant, during the summer months. Mid-June is not a time for any woman to be pregnant.

Particularly not in Pasadena, California.

Particularly not in the third trimester, nearing thirty-two weeks.

It could be worse… at least we aren't still looking at cars…

######

Bringing Sheldon and the concept of "driving a vehicle" together to the bargaining table was a challenge that would have tested the patience of a true saint. From the very beginning of the house search, it was clear to both Sheldon and Amy: Sheldon would have to start driving to and from work at the Cal Tech. The clarity of this fact did not outweigh Sheldon's response to it, however.

Sheldon's high anxiety with operating a vehicle primarily involved the other drivers on the road with him. After all, very few people held as high an IQ as did Sheldon. The innate lack of predictability of other motorists, and lesser intelligent beings at that, led Sheldon to avoid driving at all costs. Even from an age when his peers would willingly have given an eye tooth for the opportunity to drive, Sheldon readily chose public transportation instead. In spite of the germs of his fellow riders and the need for bus and taxi pants, Sheldon used both in order to avoid the risks associated with driving a vehicle on his own.

Many years later, Sheldon became reliant on his then new roommate, Leonard, to provide him chauffeur-like transportation, not only to and from work, but also the grocery store, the comic book store, the movies… the list went on and on. This dependence became a negotiated component, documented in a subsection of the Roommate Agreement. And Leonard was legally and legitimately "stuck" in the accord.

It took all of Amy's steadfast perseverance and faith to convince Sheldon to finally learn how to drive, which occurred quietly without their friends' involvement, long before they were married. Although Sheldon never became truly comfortable with the concept of driving, he accepted the need to master this "life skill." And if other people of lesser mental faculties than he could learn the concepts, then certainly Sheldon could do so as well…

Years later, Amy's pregnancy and Sheldon's impending fatherhood brought the driving situation back to the forefront once again. There would be a period of time after the delivery when Amy would not be allowed to drive, mandating Sheldon be ready and available. Afterwards, Sheldon would need to be able to drive in an emergency, even if they hadn't moved from apartment 4A. Now, in a new house 10 miles away from the University and well outside walking distance from the nearest bus stop, the die was cast.

So, Sheldon immediately dove into the internet, and to his great joy found a treasure trove of all sorts of data: safety, reliability, gas mileage, insurance costs, and re-sale value… of all the different vehicles available on the market nearby to their house. The lists went on and on. Sheldon's eyes sparkled as his face lit up from the multiple varied opportunities for data analysis.

And Amy's eyes rolled when she saw the monster she had helped to create.

Even so, for all their preparedness, searching for a vehicle became a two-week session of evenings and weekends spent on multiple car lots, looking at and driving cars left to bake in the Pasadena summer sun. Different vehicle types melted into one another, as would a chocolate dipped ice cream cone eaten by a young child on a lazy weekend afternoon.

Eventually, Sheldon and Amy found a vehicle that was satisfactory to both of them. After Amy released Sheldon to whittle down the salesperson's resolve with a litany of questions and unending commentary on the vehicle, Amy played her "ace card"…

Herself. A pregnant woman left standing for any length of time is a ticking estrogen-laced time bomb. Let alone one left outside in a hot SUV on a Saturday afternoon in June.

That salesman never stood a chance. Amy's own powers of persuasion, fueled by raging hormones and an aching lower back, finished the deal. Amy's gift was also in part a genetic trait, passed down from her adept attorney mother. Carole would have been proud to have witnessed her daughter in action, but alas, missed the show. Later, she and Rob would have a good laugh when the story was shared with them.

The fruit of Sheldon and Amy's labors… a new-to-them hybrid SUV that would transport a growing family more easily, and provide a second vehicle for Amy and Sheldon to get to and from work… easily fit alongside Amy's older, dependable sedan, in the garage of their new home.

######

Amy and Sheldon were sitting on the floor in the midst of the living room. The couch and living room table were pushed to the side. In front of them both was the task at hand: putting together furniture for the baby's room. The furniture came with instructions, of course… but this was Sheldon, after all, who Amy was working with. The same person who, many years before they had ever met, had worked with his friends to put together a shelving unit for Penny. There too, the instructions had been cast aside with aspersion, in favor of a characteristically ridiculously complicated design. And if anyone could complicate putting together a simple shelving unit from IKEA, it was Sheldon, with Leonard, Raj, and Howard.

Sheldon eschewed the assembly directions when opening the box for the baby's crib and dresser. Amy had pulled them out of the paper recycling bin Sheldon had casually tossed them in a few minutes before, and carefully, surreptitiously tucked underneath the couch cushion. She had learned that lesson, long ago… many things could be tucked in storage under a couch cushion, and Sheldon would be none the wiser.

Sheldon stared at the neat piles he had created of assembly pieces for the furniture. Solid wood supports, wood veneer backs, metal screws and acrylic handles all were in their places. The tool box and tools Rob had given him last year for Christmas were sitting on the table.

Deep inside, Sheldon quietly acknowledged a dim truth he didn't want to openly admit to: he had no idea where to start.

"If you want, I can get those instructions…" Amy started, gently.

"No!" Sheldon exclaimed immediately, nearly jumping out of his skin. "Between us, we have multiple doctoral degrees. If we can't put together a dresser and a crib without instructions… particularly those likely generated by some engineer," here Sheldon pulled a face, while Amy rolled her eyes.

"I know, I know," Amy decided to let the matter drop. It was useless to argue with Sheldon when it came to his feelings about the value of an engineer. Although when it came to their friend Howard, who was himself an engineer, Sheldon's feelings had definitely mellowed over the years.

Amy watched as Sheldon surveyed all the parts. She knew that truth that Sheldon was burying. But he would not accept help from her, or anyone else who offered. Sheldon would need to ask to assistance first himself.

Amy swallowed her mild annoyance over the untenable situation, and used the arm of the couch to help her off the floor. Her days of being able to maneuver around the changes in her body were numbered. Sheldon saw her struggle, but had learned not to offer his proud wife any help in getting up. She, too, needed to ask for assistance, before aid would be accepted.

Amy walked toward the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and brought out a pair of water bottles. She came back to the living room, and tapped Sheldon on the shoulder with a cold bottle. He looked up at her, and smiled his thanks as he took the bottle from her.

Amy more wisely chose to sit out the remainder of this struggle from the benefit of a side chair. Getting up off the floor was getting to be a Herculean task. She wasn't willing to make that mistake again today.

Amy surveyed the spectacle of parts scattered across the living room floor. It occurred to her these pieces all fit together in some semblance of order much like a puzzle, one that she wasn't (nor Sheldon, if the truth be told) able to see… at least, for the moment. It seemed somewhat appropriate, as this new baby that would be arriving in only eight short weeks, also would somehow fit into their lives, even if Amy couldn't see how that would happen at that moment. Will she or nil she, in less than two months, Amy was going to be a mother. And even more of a shock to the system, Sheldon would be a father.

Are we really ready? Amy wondered silently. We'll, that's a little bit of shutting the barn door after the horses have bolted… she chuckled to herself.

Amy watched Sheldon tentatively putting pieces of the crib together, to see if he could determine how they fit relative to one another. Watching Sheldon fumble the parts took Amy back to her early years, at a Christmas in her parents' house long ago…

######

December 1991

Pasadena, California

The Christmas tree was set up in her family's living room, festively decorated with multi-hued lights and ornaments (both those purchased from a store, and several irregular ones, made by a small pair of hands in elementary school). In front of the tree were opened packages and piles of mangled wrapping paper. It appeared all the gifts had been opened, and while Amy had gotten plenty of things she needed (underwear and socks were ever present each year), there was the one thing she had wanted desperately… but what she really wanted had been missed, as she knew it would be.

A doll house.

Eight-year-old Amy quietly sighed, off to the side of the room. Her reaction was missed by both parents, who were busy in the midst of cleaning up. Amy knew didn't dare show any signs outwardly of her disappointment, but the sadness left a bitter taste in her mouth. Possibly sensing his daughter's heartache, Rob turned from his chore of picking up around the Christmas tree, and looked into his daughter's sorrowful eyes.

"What's the matter, Pumpkin?" Rob asked. "Did Santa miss something?"

Amy's emerald eyes pleaded with her father, though her voice was silent. Amy willed herself not to allow the tears to form.

Rob stood, and walked over to sit on the couch, next to where his only child stood. He easily picked Amy up, and set her on his lap. Amy leaned into his shoulder, and closed her eyes as his strong arms wrapped around her.

Be strong, Amy… she admonished herself.

Amy was intelligent beyond her years; gifted both scholastically and with a caring spirit. But even at age eight, Amy continued to lead something of a sheltered life. Her mother's overbearing, protective nature and rules often kept Amy from being able to make friends, which caused her much pain. And, when young children discover a difference in a peer, they can sometimes be quite cruel.

This was the year that Amy had found out the truth about Father Christmas. It had been in the harshest of ways, from the mouth of Melinda, one of the prettiest girls in Amy's class. One of the girls Amy would have loved to have been friends with, but who didn't have the time of day for Amy.

Unless, it was to torment her. Then, Melinda had all the time in the world. When Melinda found out Amy believed in Santa… well, Melinda took it as her personal duty to address this particular failing she saw in Amy's education.

And Amy was crushed, but refused to let her parents know.

So Rob sat holding Amy, unaware of what was breaking her spirit… on what should have been one of the happiest days in his little girl's life. And he felt the first slight dampness hit his shoulder.

Rob lifted Amy to be able to look in her face. And Amy's heartache took over for her will.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." Amy whispered, as the tears began to flow.

"Pumpkin, what's wrong?" Rob asked quietly, as he pulled Amy back to his chest. "Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

Amy started to sob. "D… Daddy, I… I know."

"You know what?" Rob asked, hugging her a little tighter, but completely dumbfounded and at a loss as to how to console Amy.

"They… they told me." Amy couldn't stop herself now. She buried further into her father's chest.

"Who? Who told you what?"

"The kids at school, Daddy. About Santa." It was a solemn whisper. And the truth was out.

"Oh." Rob replied.

Amy had shared her heartfelt Christmas present desire with one other person besides Melinda at school. The Santa at the mall had heard of Amy's wish for a doll house this Christmas. And with one stroke three days ago, Melinda had assured Amy the doll house would not come to pass. Not this year.

Rob and Amy sat there for a few minutes, while Amy gathered herself back together. Like most Daddys, Rob was lost when Amy cried. He wanted to solve it all, but this couldn't be easily fixed. In truth, Rob wasn't even certain where to start.

Little did either of them know, a force greater than the both of them had taken this situation in hand, days before…

Rob shifted on the couch, causing Amy to sit up. She brushed away her hair from her face, and dried her tears on the sleeve of her nightgown.

"It's OK, Daddy. I'll be all right."

Rob tilted his head, and looked with pride at his brilliant, strong little girl. She would be OK; that he knew. But something occurred to him… maybe he could make it a little better.

Rob stood up, and took Amy by the hand. "Come with me."

Amy went willingly with her father, to the door to the garage. Rob lifted and carried his unshod daughter to the car, unlocked the door, and pulled the lever for the trunk. In the trunk was a large box…

Amy's eyes immediately transformed, brightening from heartache to excitement. Rob saw the change, and knew this time they'd hit the mark. The doll house had been Carole's idea, but Rob wanted to be a part of Amy's joy, too.

"I didn't get a chance to put it together before church last night. What do you say we do this together, Pumpkin? You and me?"

Amy squealed, and wrapped her arms tightly around her Daddy's neck.

"Thank you, Daddy! It's just what I wanted!"

"Make sure you thank Mommy, too…" Rob set Amy down just inside the back door, and went back to get the dollhouse box from the back of the car. Amy ran to the kitchen, and wrapped her arms tightly around her mother's waist as Carole leaned down to kiss her daughter on the forehead.

Amy was barely in control of herself, bouncing in place, after running back to watch Rob bring the box inside.

Carole smiled from the kitchen, as she brought breakfast on a tray to the living room. Pastries for all, juice for Amy, and coffee for herself and Rob.

Since the dawn of mass produced children's toys, anything related to dolls is guaranteed to have three things: obscenely tight packaging, innumerable stickers, and some of the worst assembly instructions known to man. And neither Rob nor Amy cared. The instructions were quickly set aside as the two worked to put the house together. It took most of the morning, including taking things back apart when they discovered their mistakes along the way. But for Amy and Rob, the joy was in sharing the work together.

Afterward, Amy ran to her bedroom to get a doll to start playing in the new house. Rob turned and smiled at Carole. "We don't need no stinking instructions…" Carole laughed at his reference, smiling as she watched Amy plop down in front of the new toy. The tear Carole quietly wiped away was a merry one… for the beauty of the bonding of her husband and daughter.

######

Sheldon looked up at Amy, watching the changes in her face as a long-passed memory was moving in her. "Amy?" he asked, gently.

Amy came out of her reverie, shaking her head slightly and looking off into the distance. "Sorry, Sheldon. I was just remembering a Christmas many years ago. I was in third grade, and my Mom bought me a doll house I had been wanting. It's funny, watching you work on this crib, it reminded me…"

Amy looked at Sheldon. "It reminded me of working with Dad to put that house together. We didn't have instructions, either. We made mistakes in putting it together, and took things apart more than once. But when it was done, it was beautiful. I played with that house for years."

Sheldon stood up, and took Amy's hands in his own, and looked deeply into her eyes.

"That sounds like a home. You're all human… you make mistakes and fix them as best as you can when they come up. But you're always working together… you're never really alone," Sheldon stated simply.

Amy was stunned to silence. Sheldon was rarely this philosophical, but when he was, he was invariably right on the mark. She could only nod her agreement.

"But in this case, Amy… I think I want the written instructions back. I can't figure it out, and our child's safety could be at risk if it's not done right."

Sheldon started to walk around Amy, headed toward the kitchen and the bin in which he left the instructions earlier. Amy reached out a hand to grab Sheldon's arm to stop him. She leaned down, lifted the cushion nearest her on the old leather couch, and pulled out the assembly instructions she had quietly stored away earlier that morning.

Amy smiled at Sheldon, and in handing him the papers, Amy found her voice. "I'm glad you agree with me."

It was Sheldon's turn to chuckle. He remembered the first time he found Amy had stored something underneath that very couch cushion. That item, too, had been stored against a future need, and done so with hope and love.

Sheldon helped Amy up from her seat, kissed her gently, and drew her into his arms… at least, as best he could these days with a baby in their midst.

Amy and Sheldon spent the remainder of the day putting together the pieces of furniture that were to be used in the baby's room. In spite of following the instructions, Sheldon and Amy made mistakes, and had ample opportunity to take things apart to put them back together again. They alternately cheered at their successes, and swore oaths against the instruction writers at their failures. In the end, Sheldon and Amy felt closer…reinforced in the knowledge they could face any challenge life brought their way, if they faced it together.

Sheldon and Amy could have called for help: certainly, their gang of compatriots and Rob and Carole would have been over to lend a hand with nary a word. But this day, Amy and Sheldon wanted to complete this task together… as the home and family they were creating.