"You write to become immortal, or because the piano happens to be open, or you've looked into a pair of beautiful eyes." – Robert Schumann

Sheldon sighed as he approached the lunch line; every time he had wanted to play his violin, Leonard had appeared beside him. First, Sheldon had wanted to play last night, as Leonard was supposed to spend the night at Penny's apartment. Instead, Leonard had done something stupid, no doubt, and was banished to his apartment. Why should Sheldon have to suffer for Leonard's wrongdoings? Then, Sheldon was about to go down to the basement during his break, but Leonard had come into his office to "see how he was doing." Finally, Sheldon planned to play his violin during lunch, but Leonard had practically dragged him down to the cafeteria. What a cruel world, indeed.

Sheldon was lost in his thoughts of plotting revenge against Leonard when a woman's voice was brought to his attention. The voice was rich and husky, unlike those of the women with whom he was acquainted. The owner of the aforementioned voice appeared to be standing a mere three feet in front of Sheldon with her back turned to him. Wait. The same slightly curled brunette hair, around the same height, and ... are those the same glasses? The woman was dressed in conservative, yet elegant clothing; she was wearing a solid green oversized jumper over black trousers. Sheldon could barely make out the shape of her body. Although her current attire was a stark contrast to the long silken dress she had worn two night previous, the woman in front of him was undoubtedly the same pianist he had just seen perform. Sheldon's eidetic memory served him in remembering the name written on the program; it was Amelia Fowler.

Unexpectedly, the woman turned to face him. Drats, he thought, I've been caught staring. His thoughts were stopped short, however, when the woman made eye contact with him. She had, in Sheldon's opinion, the most beautiful viridescent eyes he had ever seen. Within the lovely fields of her eyes were tiny gold flecks, appearing to dance around the pupils. Sheldon could no longer examine her stunning irises, as the woman averted her eyes, turned around, and continued chatting with Dr. Sperry. He wondered what she was doing here anyway. Wasn't she a classical musician? What was she doing talking to a neurobiologist? Perhaps she is visiting a friend, thought Sheldon. Regardless, seeing the woman again coupled with witnessing the majestic sight that were her eyes had left Sheldon itching to go play his violin. He just felt so animated.

Amy was, as they say, 'on a roll.' Ever since she had gotten home after lunch, the melody she was having trouble with the day before had started flowing out of her fingers. It had finally gained whatever it was missing yesterday. Alternating between playing on the keys of the piano and transcribing it onto a score, Amy simultaneously thought about those breathtaking cerulean eyes and the man to which they belonged. She couldn't shake off the feeling that she had seen the man before. Apparently, Drew had noticed the moment in the cafeteria, but he chose to wait until they were back in the lab to pester Amy about it. She had found out from Drew that the man's name was Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper, and he was a theoretical physicist. According to Drew, everyone thought the man was an arrogant jerk (although the University preferred "quirky"), but he had never spent enough time with him to confirm the claims himself. He did note, however, that the alleged arrogant jerk had no shortage of friends, so he couldn't be that much of a bore. In any case, Amy found him to be a great source of inspiration for writing her music, and that was all that mattered.

Amy spent the rest of the day at the piano, only stopping to eat dinner. Exhausted, she quickly showered and cuddled up on the couch with the latest neuroscience journals. Most people now knew her as Amelia Fowler, pianist, but Amy had actually received her PhD in neurobiology from Harvard five years previous, even going on to have published works in Neuron, among other famed scientific journals. This fact went unnoticed by most, as in the field on neurobiology, she was Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler. Five years ago, when her mother, who had lived overseas at the time, had fallen sick, Amy took leave to take care of her, dedicating herself to her piano. Amy had always done some competitions and recitals here and there, but she had truly started to rely on her musical abilities while living with her mother. That was two years ago, and Amy's parents were now both healthy and lliving near her in Glendale. If she was to be completely honest, she missed working in science. Ever since she was a little kid, Amy had two passions: music and science. She had found a nice balance between the two in the years following her graduation. She truly enjoyed every competition and recital she participated in at the moment, but she thought it was time to return to her job as a scientist; she would continue playing and performing in her down time. Although she had not published in over two years, she was still a quite sought-after scientist, as she was one of the leading experts in neurobiology. As a result, getting a job was not an issue; she had a multitude of offers from universities across the U.S., including one from Caltech, where Drew worked. The issue was deciding where she would work. Before her hiatus, she had worked at UCLA. Now, however, she felt like she needed a change. As a result, she had set up an interview at Caltech the following week. As she had personally seen on her many journeys there to visit Drew, Caltech had some high-quality labs and lab equipment, perhaps even better than those at UCLA.

Whatever the case, something was already decided: Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler was back.