Raj paced about his living room, occasionally glancing at the unopened wine bottle on the kitchen counter. He'd been texting Rosalind since Monday, as she'd suggested, and he thought it had been going well. He had felt like they were starting to get to know one another, like there was a real rapport, even though she was so busy with the funeral plans. Of course, he'd been as surprised as the rest by what they'd learned after the funeral that morning. If she needs a place, she could stay here, but then he shook his head at the absurdity of the notion. Rosalind was entirely too practical to move in with a guy she had barely met, a guy who couldn't even speak to her. On the other hand, she had turned down an invitation from the university president to keep her plans with him. That was an encouraging thought.

There was a knock on the door. Raj ushered in Rosalind; she was still wearing the black suit and heels she'd had on at the funeral. He could see that she was exhausted, and he wondered if he shouldn't have suggested a different night for this. Mustn't back out now. He caught up both her hands, and led her to the couch. She was about to speak, to say something polite, no doubt, but he put up a hand to stop her.

He cleared his throat, took a deep breath like a swimmer before a plunge, and said, "Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love."

She blinked a moment, but knew exactly what the correct response was, had known these speeches since her father used to rehearse them with her in the car on family vacations; she bounced to her feet and replied, her weariness falling away, "Me believe it! You may as soon make her that you love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to do than to confess she does: that is one of the points in the which women still give the lie to their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind is so admired?"

He stood, grinning, and replied, "I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he."

She smiled and took his hands in hers. "But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak?"

"Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much." With that, he was done with speeches. Raj pulled Rosalind into his arms and kissed her; they both sat on the couch, and kissed once more for good measure.

"So?" she asked. "Have you broken the spell?"

He laughed, and said, "Yes, I think so. Oh! Rosalind! There's so much to say, I don't know where to start!"

She leaned in, all eagerness, and peppered him with questions. What was his family like? What was his research about? What books did he like? And every answer led to another question, all night long.

Morning found them still on the couch, but asleep, Rosalind's head on Raj's chest, Raj's arms wrapped around her, snug under a blanket. Neither stirred when the knock came on the door, or when Howard let himself into the apartment with his key, or when he motioned to Leonard and Sheldon, who had hung back by the door. When he saw what was going on, Leonard tried to get the others to leave, but Howard was determined. "Raj, wake up. We're supposed to go kite-flying today!"

Raj stirred, but did not open his eyes. "Howard? Go away. I was having the nicest dream. I stayed up all night talking with Rosalind, then I fell asleep with her in my arms."

"Well, buddy, that's cute, but we have plans, so ditch the babe, and let's get going."

Rosalind patted Raj on the chest. "If you have plans, Raj, I should probably get going."

He opened his eyes and sat up. "You are here. You were here last night. We did talk all night."

She smiled, "And you can still talk to me," and leaned in to kiss him. "I think you need to talk to your friends a little bit, though."

They were standing behind Raj, so he couldn't see the shock and surprise on their faces, but she could. "I don't want to talk to them. I want to talk with you."

"Yes, dear, but I think you need to talk to them right now."

The men moved over to the dining table. Howard was confused, and Leonard was amused. Raj was trying to explain what was happening, but he only barely understood it himself. Sheldon leaned back, skeptical, watching Rosalind rather than his friends. She was putting herself in order: shaking out her hair and repinning her bun, rubbing her teeth with her finger. She dug a mint out of the bottom of her purse, shrugged, and tossed into her mouth. She turned and went into the kitchen. Sheldon lost interest in the argument at the dining table—they were just going in circles, anyway – and followed her.

"What are you doing?"

"Making breakfast," she said, finding eggs and cheese and half a brick of frozen spinach.

"I can see that. Why?"

"I'm hungry?" She was setting the oven and thawing the spinach. "Leonard doesn't do dairy, right?"

"No, he doesn't. So you're not just cooking for yourself. What is going on here?"

"I thought Raj explained it pretty well," she replied, blandly.

"No, but you're up to something. Is this your backup plan? Are you buttering him up so that he'll take you in when your sister kicks you out?"

She laughed. "Really? You think that's what I'm up to? 'Will trade cooking for space on your couch?' That's not much of a backup plan, especially considering, before last night, he'd only spoken five words to me. Besides, my mother surprised everybody and left me the house. I'm free and clear – no ulterior motives." She was chopping and stirring as she talked.

"Well, then, you're trying to seduce him."

"Oh, yeah, that's me. The seductress with a spatula. Besides, he's the one who invited me to his apartment and recited Shakespeare to me. Sounds like I'm the one being seduced."

"Well, look at him. I've never seen him so…. Happy."

"Hmm. That's terrible, really. Can you make this coffee machine work?" Sheldon did as he was told, so Rosalind went ahead and explained. "Call it a peace offering, if you like. I have no desire to break up your little group, but I don't want to go away, either."

She folded the cheeseless omelet onto a plate for Leonard, and pulled the frittata out of the oven. "Help me serve."

Sheldon sighed, but took a stack of plates and handful of forks to the table. Rosalind followed with the frittata, handing Raj the spatula for serving. Leonard was inspecting the frittata to see if it contained cheese when she brought out his plate and slid it in front of him. The men froze, mid-conversation, suddenly aware of Rosalind's presence, and looked at her, surprised.

"The coffee machine is doing … something, so you can help yourselves to whatever you like. I actually have to go do some things, so you guys work it all out and let me know what the verdict is, OK?" She leaned over and kissed Raj on the forehead; he reached for her hand and pulled her in for a longer kiss. She smiled and tousled his hair, then went on her way.

Leonard looked up from his omelet, "Sorry, Howard, I think she's staying."

Sheldon nodded. "She's not bad for a literature person."

Raj leaned over towards Howard, "You're just going to have to get used to it, Dude." He sat back. "And so am I."