A/N: First of all, thanks again for the feedback. I love your reviews! Keep 'em comin'! :]

Second, so sorry for the delay. I have a full-time job and go to school full-time, too, so between studying and dealing with my whiny staff at work, time goes by pretty fast and before I know it, a week has gone by since I've had the time to sit and write! But I will not abandon this story, so stay tuned. ;]

Third, it has been brought to my attention from an amazing friend of mine that somebody has found time out of their seemingly boring life to talk smack about this story on a TBBT message board (that I don't even post on) instead of actually leaving a review. Not that I'm encouraging flame reviews, but seriously? On a message board? Apparently this person thinks my story is a rip off from Twilight. Pump the breaks! I guarantee in this fic, there will be no vampires or werewolves. Yes, this story takes place in an imaginary town right on the Pugent Sound (like 2 ½ hrs away from Forks where Twilight takes place if I'm not mistaken, can't be sure, I'm from Texas lol), but only because it was the perfect setting for my characters. That is probably the only similarity to the movie/book franchise that my fic has. I'm actually a Twilight fan - I would know. Bella didn't have any mental health problems stemming from her dead mother and celebrity father, and Edward Cullen didn't ride horses (horses would be terrified of him) and love the theater like Sheldon.

More importantly - the famous vamp couple could never go down the path I have planned for the Shamy.

So for future reference so-called 'author' whose pen name I do know but will withhold because you're totally not worth the free press, why don't you read past the first couple paragraphs before you decide to judge my work?

Lastly, sorry for the rant, folks. I truly hope you enjoy this chapter!

Amy relaxed into her seat, rubbing her open palms along the leather interior of the car while Bernadette and Howard made small talk in the front.

She watched as Howard casually referred to his wife as Bernie and rubbed his thumb on her knuckles in affection. Amy waited for herself to become uncomfortable with the tiny couple's mutual admiration and subtle petting, but it never happened. She genuinely felt at ease around them, which was entirely fascinating on its own right, since Amy never felt the ability to be at ease around more than a few people her entire life. Her lawyer Valencia, her father of course, and a couple of nannies she had since infancy, those of which had been released upon her entering the mental institution.

The sun hadn't made an appearance all day, but the sky was a bright gray and hopeful. The lush trees swayed in the wind as they raced by them. Howard had taken advantage in the break from rain and pushed the speedometer to almost 90 MPH, causing Bernadette to shrilly demand he slow down every few minutes. The brown bark and evergreen leaves on either side of the car blurred from the speed and made Amy think of the horse ride with Sheldon. It seemed like ages ago, but it had only been the night before. She closed her eyes and imagined she was riding again with him, his arms framing her on either side as he slapped the reins of his beast, chuckling deeply in her ear while she whooped and hollered in ecstasy. It had been the single most intimate moment of her life with a man. She suddenly became shy, even though she was alone in the back seat, and pushed her thighs together, hoping to suppress the sudden rumble of discontent that had begun to quiver in her lower abdomen.

"What's in the satchel, Amy?" Bernadette called from the front seat, her delicate chin barely grazing her shoulder as she peered over at her and interrupted her train of thought.

"Oh, just some writing stuff," Amy said, lowering her head as she pulled the bag closer to her. After she was able to shake last night's intense dreams of fires and darkness from her mind, she garnered the energy to make another trip into town in the early afternoon, this time to buy some food to stock her kitchen and treats for Shakespeare. She found a charming shop in the middle of the strip of businesses in the center of town. It was filled with mostly trinkets and antiqued collectibles, but Amy found a corner of the shop with quill pens and textured parchment that she bought in bulk for her collection at home. Then she found a beautiful leather-bound journal, burgundy colored with gold trimming and decided to bring it along with her to tonight's performances in case she was feeling as inspired as she had the night before. She remembered Sheldon asking her if she was any good at writing. She hoped he wouldn't ask to read what she wrote as she wasn't quite ready to be that intimate yet. Once again, the words Sheldon and intimate caused her heartbeat to accelerate and she swallowed hard as Bernadette spoke.

"Are you a writer?" She had turned halfway in her seat, leaning over and facing Amy with complete interest. Before she could answer, Howard accelerated, taking advantage of Bernadette not watching his speedometer. "Hey, pal, ease off the gas pedal! I can still feel us hurtling towards certain death, you know!" Her neck snapped to look at his face, and her sweet voice had taken on an almost comedic drop in pitch, making Amy think of a pissed-off old lady. She bit her lip to keep from laughing as Howard followed orders and brought the car back to a responsible speed, mumbling quietly to himself. He rolled his eyes at Amy in the rearview mirror and she offered him a helpless shrug.

"Like I was saying," Bernadette continued, narrowing her eyes at her husband before she turned to face Amy again. "What kind of stuff do you write?"

"I'm not a writer per say," Amy started, chewing on her lower lip as she fingered the strap of her satchel. "I just sort of get ideas in my mind sometimes, about people acting out the scene I've developed in my head. I guess kind of like mini movie scripts." Her heart thumped in fear as the words left her mouth. She ached for her father, but could not, would not bring him up in mixed company. She was determined to show Howard and Bernadette the same cheeriness that they had brought to the table. Nobody liked a downer. "Anyway," she continued before Bernadette could read too far into her hollow expression. "It's just a hobby. I'm not published or anything."

"Maybe you could write something for us to perform," Howard suggested from the driver's seat. A clicking noise ticked in the sudden silence; he had signaled his blinker to turn right into a constricted gape in the trees, slowing the car considerably as Amy tried to struggle for a polite way to decline his offer.

"Oh, no," she chuckled lightly. "You guys should stick to the classic writers. Both of you are amazingly talented at interpreting Shakespeare's plays."

"Come on, it'll be fun to do something original for a change!"

"I don't know…" She brought her hands to her knees, grasping the bones through her jeans to keep her hands from shaking. A stray thought frolicked across her mind as her pulse raced, the air in the car had gotten stuffy, and a sweat broke out across her brow: perhaps today was not a great day to stop taking her medication. It was hard for Amy to put a finger on why her sudden reaction to Howard's suggestion was so intense, forming a lump in her throat and causing her fingers to tingle. She cursed herself and demanded her body not to fly into a full-fledged panic attack as her blood raced frantically to her head and a tightness expanded in her chest. Amy was on the ledge of what she had felt yesterday when she realized she was lost in the woods, just moments before she stumbled across the theater.

She tried to keep her face even, but as they turned into the forest and bounced down an uneven dirt trail, Bernadette quickly caught on to her discomfort. She turned in her seat to face the windshield and grabbed at Howard's hand. "Howie, stop pressuring Amy. Don't put her to work already; she just came to enjoy the show!"

"Fine," Howard relented, ducking his head. "Sorry, Amy. Didn't mean to badger you."

"No, it's fine," Amy croaked gratefully. She cleared her throat as her heart began to slow down.

"Well, anything we perform has to be okayed by the man himself, unless of course you're Penelope," he added, then yelped as Bernadette pinched the taut skin above his knuckles. "What? It's true."

Amy had taken a moment to regain control of her respiratory system while the couple in front of her whispered to each other, and soon she was overcome with curiosity. "Why does Penelope get to perform original work and no one else does?"

Bernadette hummed uncomfortably as it got darker in the car, the looming trees blocking out the gray light of the late afternoon sky. "Well, Penelope and Sheldon are kind of the ringleaders of our little setup."

"More like Sheldon is and Penelope likes to think she has a say in what's what." Howard's voice dripped with what Amy was beginning to think was his signature sarcasm.

"Howie…" Bernadette said in a warning tone.

"What? I can't express my thoughts in the privacy of my own car with my wife and new friend?"

"No, it's just…" she paused then motioned with her neck to Amy, "we don't want our new friend getting the wrong impression of our old friends before she's even had the chance to meet them herself."

"Oh, I won't say anything," Amy promised, leaning forward over her lap and closer to the front seat. Her inquisitiveness was palpable, she was sure, but she couldn't help it. She suddenly remembered the exchange between Sheldon and Penelope in the woods and then again on the front porch when Sheldon casually referred to the disgruntled blonde as 'Penny', then dismissed her just as casually. It didn't take a genius to know there was something between them. Romantic? Amy couldn't be sure, but she could only hope not. The thought alone of her hopefulness caused her to blush as she inwardly ridiculed herself for even thinking she had anything on someone as aesthetically pleasing as Penelope, who seemed to be exactly the type Sheldon went for. She took a deep breath and continued. "I actually have met Penelope before, though." She stopped when both Howard and Bernadette's necks whipped around to look at her over their shoulders with confusion and slight mystification.

"Eyes on the road!" Bernadette squawked at her husband as he turned back around and kept the wheel steady. "You said you've met Penelope?"

"Yes," Amy answered slowly. "A few days ago, when I first moved here. I went into town to buy a few things and she was at the drugstore. We were reaching to grab the same thing of the shelf, a simple black spiral notebook, but she told me to take it, then introduced herself."

"Really? Like an actual polite person?" Howard inquired, earning a weak smack on the arm from Bernadette.

"Yes," Amy said again, her lips turning up at the corners. "It's hard to believe that she was being polite?"

"No," Bernadette said firmly at the same time Howard mumbled, "Yes."

"What's her deal?" Amy couldn't help but want to know why Bernadette seemed to fear anyone speaking ill of Penelope while Howard seemed to possess a small grudge against her, and what it all had to do with her relationship with Sheldon.

"Like I said," Bernadette began again as soon as other parked cars came into view in the clearing behind the theater. "Her and Sheldon are the ones who keep the theater going for us. They give us the material to practice and ultimately perform. They maintain the stage and the solitude so that we can feel free to be ourselves here. It's because of them that we even get to do this whenever we want."

"So they started this?"

"No," Howard answered this time, easing the small car into a spot and shifted into park before turning off the engine. "This was something he inherited. Our secret theater has been around for about one hundred years, and it's a special honor for the one in charge to pass it on to the next person of their choosing, kind of like passing the torch."

"So Penelope and Sheldon both inherited this?" Amy was like a small child, asking her mother and father where babies came from.

"No, that's the thing," Howard grumbled. "Sheldon inherited the theater. Penelope tries to call the shots just 'cause she's Sheldon's little fling on the side…"

"Howard, that's enough!" Bernadette gasped before turning to face Amy. "It's all hearsay. There's absolutely no proof that they're an actual couple."

"Yeah, that's why I said 'fling on the side,' Bernie," Howard said, his eyebrows waggling suggestively. "She's the type that's attracted to power. Sheldon is not only the ringleader of our acting company, but a very rich and influential man. The theater is not the only thing he inherited." He shook his head and made eye contact with Amy again in the rearview mirror. "Lucky bastard. He's my age and has more money than I'll ever see in my life."

"I swear, Howie, you don't know when to shut up," Bernadette growled. "Amy, please don't think any different of Sheldon or Penelope." She turned to face her husband again. "In fact, if Sheldon were to find out we were gossiping to Amy about his private matters behind his back, he would be…very displeased."

Amy's head cocked to the side, a frown setting on her lips as her brow furrowed. "What do you mean, to Amy? Did he specifically ask you to remain mum about him in front of me?"

Even Howard remained quiet, abruptly looking down at his hands.

"Look what you've done," Bernadette groaned. She unbuckled her seat belt and turned again in her seat to look at Amy. "Please don't read too much into this, Amy. Sheldon would just prefer to speak to you himself about these things. I mean, how would you feel if your life were laid bare against your will to someone you just met?"

The very question shocked Amy like a jolt of electricity. Bernadette didn't know it, but that's the last thing Amy would ever want, for her secrets, her life, her very essence to be stripped and put on display for anyone, especially Sheldon Cooper, to know and study. She looked down and nodded. "No, I understand. Sorry for being nosy." This was not how she wanted the night to start out, so she figured now would be a good time to keep the remainder of her questions on deck for the appropriate time.

"It's not your fault," Bernadette cooed. "My husband here is a real gossip queen. You'll have to excuse him." She waited a beat before adding, "And Penelope is not as awful as he's making her seem. She's just a very confident person, and she puts a lot of care in to her craft. She's was born to perform. You'll see."

Amy nodded politely as they finally piled out of the car, Howard holding the door open for her as she crawled over his bent chair and finally placed her feet on the crunchy twigs of the forest floor. A blast of cold wind wrapped the three of them in an icy embrace, and she shivered. "Thanks for picking me up, guys," she said, attempting to change the subject. With more questions than answers, Amy felt slightly unsettled, but was now more than ever eager to see Sheldon.

"Anytime," Howard answered, smiling as he draped an arm over Bernadette's shoulders. "Let's go!" The couple led the way as they trekked past the parked cars and headed closer to the twinkling lights of the stage. Amy heard the gentle humming of a generator in the distance, and saw two campfires on either side of the fallen logs where everyone was now gathered, some sitting, some standing as they all conversed. The fires were no doubt built to produce warmth against the sudden cold. She saw all the familiar faces of the people she interacted with at the party the night before, and there was a sudden stir in their conversation as she came into view, emerging from the trees beside Howard and Bernadette.

"Amy!" Raj was the first to jump from his seat on the logs and welcomed her, walking up to her with his arm outstretched. When he met her, she held out her hand to shake his. "I'm so glad you came back! Oh, tonight is going to be amazing. We've got some great plays lined up, and I have something special I'm performing that I know you'll enjoy…"

"What's with you lately?" Howard asked, interrupting Amy and Raj's greeting. "First time in 30 years that you can talk to women and now you just can't shut up."

"Bite me, dude," Raj panned, giving his friend an irritated look.

Amy laughed at the sudden sour demeanor Raj took on, and her curiosity got the best of her again. "What does he mean, Raj?"

Raj adjusted his dark blue blazer over his matching slacks and rolled his eyes at Howard before facing Amy. "A few weeks ago, you may not believe it but, I was unable to converse with women. I would clam up or leave the room every time a female would try to converse with me. It was only on stage that I could release my inhibitions and truly speak to a crowd with women mixed in, and to speak to them one-on-one, I had to be piss drunk."

Amy covered her mouth with one hand to cover her shock. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Raj said, nodding sadly. "I was truly an enigma."

"He was screwed up in the head, is what he means," Howard interjected, earning another playful slap on the arm from Bernadette.

"Anyway," Raj continued, facing Amy. "At one of our parties, one of our performers had suggested hypnosis. We were all wasted and it was 2:00 AM so we were sort of grasping at straws for something to do to keep the party going." He lowered his voice mysteriously, and Amy couldn't help but lean closer. "He took me into a room and waved a small pocket watch on a golden chain in front of my face. I was skeptical at first, of course, but then suddenly, everything went black." He waved his hands in the air between him and Amy, engaging her in his story like a true performer. He whispered, "I was lost in a mist with nothing around me except the cold darkness."

Amy heard Howard scoff as Raj continued. "Then bam!" He clapped his hands together, causing Amy to startle backward and Bernadette to giggle behind her. "He uttered a magic phrase that he said would remain in secret for the rest of his days, for if anyone were to utter it, I would revert back to my old ways. From that point on, I would no longer allow my fears of interacting with women, or sometimes effeminate men, to hold me back from being a normal person."

"And sometimes, I'm tempted to say the phrase just so he'll shut up," Howard chimed in. Amy pivoted to face him, amazement evident on her face.

"It was you, Howard?" she asked.

"Yep," Howard said with a small grin. "I felt sorry for the guy. I used to dabble in magicianry back in the day…"

"Magic tricks," Bernadette huffed with a roll of her eyes.

"Excuse me," Howard snapped. "They're called illusions. Anyway, yeah. I found one of my old watches and I figured it'd be worth a shot."

"And I can never thank him enough," Raj concluded, walking over to Howard and wrapping an arm around his friend. "This guy is my best buddy." Howard smiled and shrugged sheepishly.

"Yeah, it's a little frightening sometimes," Bernadette sighed. "Come on, Amy. I can tell when we're not needed." She looped her arm into Amy's and pulled her away from the two men who had begun to talk about their performances planned for the evening. "Oh, they have the fires going. Good, I'm freezing." She drew Amy closer to the flames and Amy couldn't help but flinch. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Amy said brightly. She turned her back away from the flames and shook away the cold feeling that her dreams gave her. "I'm just excited for tonight." She waved at a few people who were shouting their greetings to her. She was relieved that everyone seemed to remember her and acting as though they were truly happy to see her. It was nothing like she had ever experienced. She dared herself to think, These people are treating me like their friend. Amy had never made any real friends before. Sure, when she was younger Robbie tried pushing play dates at their house with kids from school, but she would wallow in a corner alone while the other girls and boys played with all of her cool toys or outside on her humungous jungle gym, never asking her to play, never acknowledging her presence. And as she got older, she was more concerned with causing mayhem to be sent to an actual school, so she was home-schooled alone. And making friends certainly wasn't a priority when she was institutionalized. She sighed inwardly, forcing herself to break free from her reminiscing and concentrate on what was in front of her instead of behind her.

Bernadette guided them to the front row and they sat down while the petite blonde chatted with people around them. Amy concentrated on her satchel in her lap, vaguely listening to the conversation until someone mentioned Sheldon's name in a hushed tone. She raised her chin a fraction towards the woman who was telling Bernadette about his performance.

"I heard he's going to perform first tonight," the slender woman with a thick Indian accent and dark, lovely skin said to Bernadette. "He's being very secretive about it."

"Really?" Bernadette asked with peaked interest. "I wonder what he'll do." She turned to face Amy. "This is Priya. She's Rajesh's sister."

"Oh," Amy said, smiling widely. She turned and extended her hand to Priya, who took it graciously. "Nice to meet you. Your brother is an amazing actor."

"Yes, well it runs in the family," Priya laughed, then tossed her hair over her shoulder. "He could not stop talking about you today. You really made an impression on everybody last night."

"Well…" Amy shied away, ducking her head. "Everybody is really nice." She returned Priya's smile before adding, "Very nice to meet you." Then she turned in her seat as Bernadette and the woman continued their short conversation, wondering aloud what Sheldon would be performing.

"I guess that explains why we haven't seen him yet," Bernadette said to Amy when she finally turned around. "He was hell bent on us getting you here on time tonight, probably because he wanted you to be here in time to see him on stage."

"Yeah?" Amy felt her face flush and was grateful for the shadows casted by the fires and dim twinkling lights that concealed her color greatly. She faced the stage that was just a few feet in front of her and felt the anticipation build up in her stomach. What did Sheldon have planned tonight? She wondered what he would look like, what play he would enact. Amy's impression of Sheldon was that he didn't seem like the performing type. He was playful but in a subdued way, and very forthcoming when it came to his questions about Amy. Still, Sheldon had an air about him that gave her reason to believe he was withholding a great deal from her. Although with the lavish life he introduced her to last night, from the display of his extravagant home to the grand stable and horses he rode, he did seem to have a penchant for the extreme and the grand. Perhaps he was a performer after all.

"Yeah," Bernadette said after a moment, watching as the emotions of Amy's thoughts flowed over her face and she giggled. "Amy, do you have a thing for Sheldon?"

"Oh, my God, no," Amy replied abruptly, so quickly that she bit her tongue in the process like a klutz. She nursed it, rubbing it along the side of her teeth to dull the pain as Bernadette laughed even harder. "I don't even know him," Amy insisted.

"I believe that sometimes forces, such as attraction, well, they choose us—we don't choose them," the tiny woman said in a serious tone, though her face was gentle and smiling. "Don't worry, though. Your secret is safe with me." She winked as a man that Amy recognized from yesterday took the stage and commanded everyone's attention with a shrill whistle.

Amy shut her eyes tight, willing the redness in her face to disappear, before opening them again and studying the man on stage. He had curly hair, closely cropped to his head, and thick-framed glasses. He wore a black blazer over black slacks and a light pink buttoned-up shirt beneath. He was short in stature but not thin like Howard. "Good evening everyone!" he greeted. "I'm Leonard, as you all know, and I'll be your mic controller for the evening. If anyone can find my mic, please return it immediately." The crowd groaned good-naturedly at his lame joke, and Amy crossed her arms, craning her neck to look over her shoulder as Leonard went on about the performances in store for the night.

As she was looking around the crowd, she searched for the pair of blue eyes that she had been thinking about all day, but was thrown off at the sudden view of the svelte figure of a woman in a form-fitting fiery red dress with tiny beads that sparkled in the light of the fire she sat next to. Her thick locks of blonde waves were pulled up into a loose bun with curly tendrils falling to the side along with her swooped bangs. It was Penelope in all of her glory who sat erect with a group of other women and she was watching the stage with a penetrating stare, as if anticipating the first act with great intensity. Amy wondered idly if she was waiting for Sheldon to perform just like she was. Amy was about to turn around to face the front again when Penelope shifted her gaze and it met hers. Visibly, there were no changes to her face. She remained just as intense, staring straight through Amy as if she were glass. Then with a slight sniff, Penelope turned her neck to face forward again. Amy felt released by her stare and squared her shoulders, facing the front.

"What's wrong?" Bernadette asked, sensing her sudden jumpiness.

"Nothing," Amy assured her, smiling. "When do you perform tonight?"

"Oh, not until the end." She was about to continue when Leonard's voice drew their attention to the stage once more.

"And now, without further ado, let's welcome our first performer, Sheldon Cooper!" He started clapping while everyone joined in, and a few cat calls from the women in the crowd caused Amy to shrink inwardly. The stage had a backdrop of velvety curtains that Amy hadn't noticed yesterday. This close to the stage, she could appreciate the entire set up, and she was impressed. She saw the curtains ripple as the applause continued, and suddenly, Sheldon appeared from behind the drapes, walking to the center of the stage as the applause became louder. He smiled slyly with closed lips, and Amy felt herself swoon.

He wore a charcoal gray suit with a crisp, white buttoned-up shirt beneath. The blazer and slacks were tailored exactly to his lean yet towering frame. His shoes were black and shined so bright that they glistened beneath the spotlight. His hair was neatly combed and parted to the side like yesterday and his skin was just as smooth and clear, as well. But something about the concentration on his face made the breath Amy was inhaling catch in her throat. His bright blue eyes zoned in until they found her, and he never released his stare as he began the sonnet that Amy somehow knew he was performing just to summon a rise from her and her alone:

" Love is too young to know what conscience is,

Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?

Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,

Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove;

For, thou betraying me, I do betray

My nobler part to my gross body's treason.

My soul doth tell my body that he may

Triumph in love—flesh stays no father reason,

But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee…

Amy's breath quickened as Sheldon's tiny lisp was overshadowed by the gruff texture of his voice. His eyes remained on her and softened as they pleaded Amy with their gaze while he recited the sonnet's most erotic and suggestive lines. She gazed back at him, the edges of her eyesight blurring as the world faded to black and it was just them two.

As his triumphant prize—proud of this pride,

He is contented thy poor drudge to be,

To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.

No want of conscience hold it that I call

Her "love" for whose dear love I rise and fall." *

He waited a heartbeat before finally bowing his head, one of his arms bent behind his back as the other rested on his abdomen. The crowd erupted while he retreated to the curtain, turning his back on the crowd, and disappeared.

Amy felt like one of the groupies that used to stand around outside of their gated neighborhood to wait for Robbie after he and Amy returned from an outing. As a young girl, she would slouch in the back of their limo as scantily clad women threw themselves at the vehicle and Robbie would grin and eat it up.

Well, she wasn't dressed like a whore, but she was wearing a brush of dark blue eye shadow and pink lip gloss that she hoped made her look a little older instead of the surly, dirt covered and wet mess Sheldon had met yesterday. She put a hand to her hip and tried to stay out of view as Bernadette and Howard wrapped up the night with their rendition of a scene from one of Howard's favorite movies Fiddler on the Roof. She had not seen Sheldon come into the audience after his performance almost an hour earlier. But as the drizzle began to seep through the thick foliage of trees that hovered over the theater, the crowd had decided one more performance would be what they would tolerate before they retreated back to Sheldon's house, or The Coliseum as they liked to call it, and begin their customary post-show festivities. So when Howard and Bernadette were in the bottom leg of their act, Amy rose from her seat discretely and walked to the rear of the stage where the curtains covered what was happening in the front. She figured Sheldon had to be back there, and she waited patiently.

"Waiting for someone?"

Amy froze and contemplated running into the trees to hide in humiliation. Apparently she wasn't as discreet as she had hoped. She turned slowly and came face-to-face with the stunning Penelope. She stood straight with one hand on her hip in an almost mirror image of Amy's stance, but much more severe. She was slightly taller due to her high heels and used her advantage to look down her nose at Amy.

It was a few seconds before she found her voice. "Oh, yeah. I'm just waiting for, um, Sheldon."

"I figured," Penelope murmured. Suddenly, her stone face thawed and a small smile graced her features. She was truly striking and it caused Amy to go weak in the knees with inadequacy. "That was quite a performance he put on tonight, hmm?" Her fire engine red lips matched perfectly with her dress as she measured Amy with her eyes.

"Yes, it was," she agreed, then quickly added, "everyone was amazing tonight. I had been meaning to tell you that I was particularly taken with your reading yesterday." Amy found herself stumbling over her words as Penelope remained quiet, so she continued slowly. "I was looking forward to another performance by you tonight."

"Well, on account of the rain, my performance will have to wait for another night."

Penelope took a step closer to Amy, her presence leering and dominant. It made Amy squirm uncomfortably and she racked her brain to think of something to speak about. The silence stretched between them as the audience engaged and clapped to Howard and Bernadette's performance on stage. Finally, Amy bit the bullet. "Penelope, I met you a few days ago. In town. You remember, don't you?"

"I do," the blonde finally replied, causing Amy to sigh in relief.

"Great, I thought I was going crazy or something, having made it up in my head." Amy caught the irony of her sentence, but didn't elaborate.

"My question to you, Amy, is: why are you here?"

The query left her breathless. Surely Penelope had heard about Amy's stumbling upon the theater after getting lost in the woods? And even if she had, judging by the look on her oval-shaped face, she was not happy about her presence. But what had Amy done to warrant Penelope's anger?

"She, of course, is my guest, Penny. Don't be rude to my guest."

Amy and Penelope turned towards the voice and watched in time for Sheldon to walk down the back steps of the stage with a bouquet of wild flowers in his hands. The stems dripped with water and mud, looking as though they had been freshly picked from the ground. Sheldon's blazer was gone, and his sleeves had been rolled up to the elbows, just like yesterday, Amy noted. She watched him descend the steps, his eyes solely on her though he had addressed Penelope.

"There he is," the woman in the red dress seethed. "The man of the hour. Since when do we let outsiders like this one hang around us?"

Amy's mouth dropped as she broke her stare with Sheldon and twirled around to reface Penelope. Her tone was scathing, and she referred to Amy as an 'outsider' with the same fervor as if she were referring to an insect that was buzzing around her face. "What is your problem?" she heard herself ask, her defenses rising up to the occasion. Amy may not have been one for social graces, but if Robbie Fowler had taught her anything in her turbulent 28 years of life, it was that she was beneath no one, and would act accordingly.

"What did you do, Amy? Did you follow me here?" Penelope's voice raised a notch as she took a step toward her, menacingly advancing.

"What?" Amy did not back down, but the bewilderment was evident on her face as Penelope stepped closer. "What are you talking about? I didn't follow anyone!"

"That's enough, Penelope." Sheldon had suddenly stepped between the two women, extinguishing the fiery exchange with one glaring look he tossed at the blonde.

She looked up at him, momentarily stunned by his tone, then her face relaxed back into a sneer. "Well, looks like I've outworn my welcome. You two have fun tonight." She used one of her hands to slightly raise the train of her dress as the crowd applauded Howard and Bernadette's big finish. "Just know, Amy. That this?" She motioned with her free hand to Sheldon. "It doesn't last." And with that, she rotated her heels and walked quickly away from them, into the woods towards The Coliseum.

After a few seconds, Sheldon's shoulders slumped and he turned around to face Amy, whose mouth was still open in shock. What the hell was that? And what did she mean that this doesn't last? she asked herself. "Sheldon," she said out loud. "Did I do something to offend her?"

"No," he replied with feeling, shaking his head from side to side. "Of course not. That woman, Penelope, she's quite the stickler for dramatics." He lowered his head and Amy followed his gaze until she caught sight again of the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. It didn't come to mind what they were for until she saw his arm extend and push the flowers towards her. "These are for you."

Amy's tongue had gone dry from the way her mouth kept dropping open. She hesitated, not sure how to react. "Those are for me?" She felt as though she had reverted back to the bumbling idiot that she had been when she met Sheldon for the first time the night before, parroting back questions to him in earnest. But she truly needed clarification. Between the sensual sonnet he recited while looking down at her on stage, and the bouquet of flowers, Amy was floundering. She jumped in surprise when he laughed, amused by her astonishment.

"Yes. After my performance I walked to my property where there's a small patch of wild flowers growing on the tree line. I picked them, then brought them back for you."

Amy's hands shook as she reached out unsteadily and grasped the stems and made a fist around them, grazing Sheldon's long fingers with her own in the process. She pulled them back to her chest, sniffing them and felt her head spin. She wasn't sure if it was from the fragrance of the flowers or from Sheldon, the delicious scent that was so uniquely him still lingering on the petals. "They're beautiful. Thank you." She avoided his eyes, staring instead around his arm as the crowd began to disperse towards his mansion. "But…why?"

"We had made plans to get to know each other. I promised you last night that, with the right questions, I would provide you with answers," he began, taking a step towards Amy and offering his bent elbow for her to take in true gentlemanly fashion. "As I am a man of my word, I offer you the flowers as a preemptive move." When Amy smiled up at him questioningly, he continued. "First thing you've got to know about me, Amy Farrah Fowler, is that I give flowers to beautiful women." He winked at her impishly as he led her into the forest towards The Coliseum. "Now, tell me. What else would you like to know?"

*Sheldon's saucy performance was a reading of Sonnet 151 by William Shakespeare. Are you sensing a pattern here? ;]