A/N:

1. Sorry for the delay, but midterms have now come to a close. I survived. YEY. This chapter is long because now we're going to start getting into the thick of what's going on (and I couldn't find a suitable place to cut it off, lol). Hope you all don't mind a long read. :] And the next chapter is nearly halfway done, so it won't be long until I have another update for you.

2. Alright, folks. We have officially graduated to an 'M' rating, but it's mostly just as a precaution. Don't worry (PEARL), the heat will be turned up soon enough. If you do not like reading sexual content, just skip the part in this chapter. Sorry in advance, lol.

3. Your amazing feedback is so encouraging. All of the kind words that you have taken the time to leave me truly fuels my fire. Thanks, guys. Enjoy chapter 10. ;]

"It's not working," she insisted in a frustrated tone. "She's taken her medication. It won't work now that she's on her medication again."

"Just a minor speed bump," he countered. "It'll work regardless."

"How do you know that?" she asked. "I was the one who was there when she took it. I saw it all."

A feeling akin to disdain rose up from a familiar place inside of him as he stared her down. "You're impatient. You are wasteful with this opportunity I'm giving you with your theatrics and spooky haunted house crap. That's why it hasn't worked yet."

"I don't think that's it at all," she said testily. "You've had plenty of chances to finish this and you haven't. I think you've lost your touch."

He waited for a moment, biting his lip so hard he drew blood. Better his than hers.

"It's working," he growled through clenched teeth. "She's just a little more resistant than we had anticipated."

"How can that be possible? She's been psychotic since she was a child!"

He couldn't concentrate when she berated him so. When she summoned him out of bed in the middle of the night just to make him listen to her rage on about her doubts, it was harder for him to stay focused and harness his abilities. He was the coordinator. He was in control. Always.

A strangled sound from behind the closed bedroom door next to them startled them both, causing their bickering to cease for a moment until the disturbance quieted down.

After a few moments of silence, he turned back around to face her. "I can't do this right now," he said quickly. "We need to pull back a little. The rain has given us a big break, being that the performances were cancelled, but if we push too hard on this, she might begin to suspect—"

"You told me it would work. We have all our players under our fingers but we're no closer. You led me to believe that you could handle this. I should pull the plug right here, right now."

"You're missing the point," he nearly shouted, then looked over his shoulder again at the closed door. He slowly turned back to her and narrowed his eyes. "You're missing the point," he repeated in a whisper. "These matters are delicate. This isn't a game with pawns that you can move in any direction you please. It will take time. It has taken time. She's here in Evergreen Falls now, isn't she?" He waited, searching her with wide eyes until he saw her shoulders slump in acceptance. He took the opportunity to continue. "And that took years, but she's here. And she's right where we want her."

She stayed quiet for a moment, her eyes fierce, displeased. "I didn't think it would be this difficult."

"You never think," he said harshly. "You leave me to do that for you." He looked down and placed his hands on his hips, drawing in a deep, steadying breath before he continued. "Just trust me, okay? We'll both get what we want, soon enough."

She began to drift off, her eyes staring over his shoulder at something that wasn't really there. Just as he was about to ask her what she was thinking, she huffed angrily and met his eyes again.

"That weak, sniveling mess is the daughter of Farrah Holt and Robbie Fowler. What a waste." Her voice was deep, lower than normal, primal. It caused a shiver to crawl up his spine. He hated being afraid of her. Shouldn't it be the other way around? He was the one in control. Wasn't he?

He watched her mutely as she spun on her heels and opened the door to the room behind them. When the person trapped inside saw her enter, they began to whimper in fear.

He watched her disappear into the room, shutting the door behind her, fear not far off from what he had begun to feel, as well.

Amy woke up.

Her eyes fluttered in protest with the brightness pouring in from the window, but this time, it wasn't a dream of a forest on fire. The sun had actually come out. She should have felt elated, anticipated the sensations of the warmth of the rays on her skin, excited to take Shakes for a well-deserved walk. Instead, she pulled the sheets over her face and rolled over.

She clenched her teeth together and sunk deeper into her pillow. Her nose scrunched up at the fragrance—it was foreign, yet familiar.

"Sheldon," she breathed as she registered the scent. She closed her eyes as it invaded her nostrils once again. She desperately sought after the yearning that she had felt for him just ten hours earlier and was relieved to feel some of it was still there, barely, hollow, in traces. But the majority of her felt nothing. Static.

So, her medicine had worked. She blinked a few times as the panic set in; how would she react when she saw Sheldon? Would she still want him, reciprocate his desire? She shut her eyes tight and the first image she saw on the back of her lids was the visual of Sheldon hovering above her, grinning down before dipping into her neck with his lips. She moaned slightly as the memory of them in bed last night washed over her.

When she snapped out of her reverie, she sighed in relief; the tether she felt to Sheldon, an inexplicable tie that she had once not been sure what to make of, was still there. This calmed her.

It took her a few more minutes to compose herself and fully wake up. She rolled over again and faced her open closet, where the box she had found the night before sat in the center on the floor. Amy had been so thrown off by the title of Rajesh's law firm on the box that she refused to go through all of the paperwork and old photographs inside of it that she had seen from the corner of her eyes. Instead, she threw the map to the theater in it and left it there. She crawled into bed, pulling Shakespeare close. Suddenly so tired on account of one of her meds, she had fallen under quickly.

But now that the sun was knocking on her window and her body was alert, Amy swung her legs around and snatched her glasses off of her nightstand, her eyes finally adjusting. The bandage on her hand needed to be changed as it hung loosely from her wrist. Still dressed in jeans and her long-sleeved stripe shirt from the night before, she rose from the bed then walked quickly to the closet. She bent down to retrieve the box, lifting it carefully, and placed it on the center of her bed. Before she could look inside, she heard a very impatient bark from her dog downstairs.

Moments later she made her way down the steps, balancing the box in her arms, to let Shakespeare out to relieve himself. Then she hauled the box to the glass room that she had shown Sheldon last night. There, in the middle of the floor, Amy sat down Indian style and reached in, grabbing the first paper she saw: the map. She studied it carefully as thoughts flew at warp speed from one side of her brain to the next.

Did Sheldon open her closet and see this box? Is this where he got the map from? Or was it, like he insisted, already on her bed when he went inside in search of Shakespeare? She shivered involuntarily, desperately hoping the latter was true. Although it was truly frightening to think someone, or something, else had taken this map and placed it on her bed without her knowing, somehow, the thought of Sheldon planting this there and knowing more than he let on frightened her more.

Stifling the thoughts for now, she placed the map on the floor by her knee. Her back was to the open door and she kept one ear perked to listen for Shakespeare. The room was well lit on account of the sun pouring in through the glass wall and Amy smiled slightly, enjoying the view. Then, after exhaling slowly, she reached in and grabbed a fistful of photographs. She studied the first polaroid and the woman in it.

Amy had never met her grandparents on account of them dying before her father ever mended his relationship with them, but he did show her a picture of them when she was younger and because of this, Amy knew whom she was holding in her hand. She studied the contours of the young woman's skin, smooth and pale; even in the black and white tones of the portrait, she could tell. The woman had wavy, unruly hair, just like Robbie. Her smile was nonchalant, a smirk. Amy smiled, noticing the thin curve of her grandmother's lips were just likes hers.

Sighing, she put the photo down and reached in for more. She let out a tiny laugh as she viewed photo after photo of her father as a child; one of him wearing cowboy boots too big for his toddling legs, another one of him sporting a milk mustache and Superman print underwear, and another riding his bicycle in sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt outside in the front yard of this very house. Amy had never found it odd that her father failed to show her baby pictures of him. Their mansion back in New York was filled of portraits and stills of him and even more pictures of Amy from infancy to her awkward teenage years. There seemed to be enough pictures to suffice for the life that he counted as his own. Robbie hated speaking of the past before he escaped Evergreen Falls. So it was a pleasant surprise to see the goofy faces and essential human-like behavior that were in these old family photographs.

Among the photographs were other childhood mementoes: Robbie's old report cards, handmade cards and letters to Santa Claus made of construction paper, and crayon-covered notebook paper with his name scrawled along the bottom in loopy handwriting; probably her grandmother's penmanship. Amy lifted the drawings and placed them close to her nose. She could still smell the musky scent of Crayola and she blinked away a few tears, suddenly missing her Pop so very much. Amy was suddenly very grateful that Sheldon wasn't around to go through this box with her, as it all was very private.

Soon, the pictures and tattered paper vestiges were running thin and she was reaching to the bottom of the box. One last photo caught her attention and she picked it up, scanning the different faces of the group in search her father's.

There were seven young people, not much younger than Amy, standing against an RV parked in front of a camp fire. A couple of them donned long capes and silly feathered hats, as if they were outfitted in a very low-budget Elizabethan play. She saw two men off to the side in regular clothes that could be considered in-style in the 1980's. The taller man's arm was wrapped around the shorter man's shoulders in a friendly, brotherly half-hug. The shorter man was a very young Robbie Fowler.

The taller man had a round, handsome face hosted by pastel skin beneath raven-colored hair so shockingly familiar that Amy dropped the photo in her lap and brought both hands to her face to smother the gasp that flew out of her lips. She jumped when she heard scratching on her front door accompanied by Shakespeare's whimpering. Scrambling to her feet with the photo still clutched in her injured hand, she walked quickly to the front door and let her dog in, instantly relaxing with her companion by her side. He shook his body and stared up at her expectantly.

"You hungry, Shakes?" she asked, receiving an erratic tail-waiving in response. He padded behind her, following her to the kitchen where with her free hand, she scooped up a sufficient amount of kibble from his enormous bag of food and placed it in his bowl. He was already chewing before she emptied the scoop. She rubbed his furry back appreciatively before she went back to studying the picture.

The man with his arm around Robbie looked startling familiar at first glance, but as she looked closer, she was relieved to see some slight differences. He was lofty and slightly heavier, and his eyes were darker, but the man could pass for a very close relative of the one and only Sheldon Cooper. She quickly sifted through her memory and came to a halt at the recollection of the night in Sheldon's bed where he shared details of his father with her.

"…She said she had met my father only in passing, which was always a hard story for me to hear. They met because his acting company, a very poor group of misfits that practically performed for peanuts and toured the country in an RV, had passed through Houston one month in the summer…"

Amy paused and closed her eyes, wrinkling the photo in her hands. She steadied herself by leaning against the kitchen counter and listening to the monotonous crunching of Shakespeare eating his food. Feeling slightly nauseated, she stared down at the picture in her hands again before she made a break from the kitchen, startling Shakespeare with her sudden retreat, and ran up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. She needed to retrieve her cell phone to make a very important call.

"Valencia," Amy greeted when her lawyer picked up on the second ring.

"Amy!" the light, breezy voice of her lawyer and only family friend on the other end answered. "What a nice surprise. I was actually going to give you a ring here in a few days. Wanted to check up on you."

"I'm doing great."

"Still taking your meds?"

"Wow," Amy muttered. "You don't waste any time."

"That's why they pay me the big bucks, Ames. Now, are you staying current on your meds?"

"Yes," Amy fibbed. Technically, she was back on track. "I have an important question to ask you, Val."

"Have at it."

"When my father died, did he have this house, River Road Manor, in the will?"

"Yes," Valencia answered quickly. "You saw the paperwork. The place is yours."

"Right, but…Val, when did Pop add this property to his will?"

"Oh, I don't know the exact date off hand," the woman mumbled while Amy heard paper shuffling in the background. "I can check it out for you. Why?"

"If you're busy, don't worry about it—"

"No," she said dismissively. "I've got the computer up and running in front of me. A couple of key strokes and I can give you the info." Appropriately, Amy heard the popping of the keyboard. "So, how is that place, huh? The square footage on the deed was killer. I'm surprised Robbie left you in charge of all of that." The key popping stopped and Amy smiled crookedly as Valencia tried to backtrack. "No offense, toots, you know I don't mean it like that. It's just a lot for a single girl to handle."

"No, you were right the first time," Amy laughed and bit her lip. "I'm a little in over my head, but…I'm managing." The keys kept popping and Amy suddenly felt the dull ache of missing her lawyer. It had always been a peculiar deal, a young girl putting trust and friendship in the people who were only hired to protect her assets. Although Amy was never privy to such things, in the back of her mind, she had always thought that Robbie kept Valencia around not only for legal matters but for personal as well. Not that she had minded—Val had always been like a family member to her since she was eight years-old.

"Okay, got it pulled up," she interrupted Amy's thoughts and cleared her throat. "Your grandparents, one Robert Fowler, Senior and one Clementine Seagel-Fowler, left the deed to your father when they passed in 1991 and 1994 respectively. But your father did not leave the deed to you until…hmm."

"What?"

"It says here that the day your father updated his last will and testament, the only adjustment he made, was on October 19, 2012."

"Really?" Amy asked, a cold, murky feeling swelling over her feet like an incoming tide.

"Yeah. That's…that's the day you got out of the institution, isn't it?"

"Yes." Amy cleared her throat. "Yes, it is." She took a deep breath and asked the question that was walking the plank in her mind. "Val, do you have the name of my grandparents' legal representation?"

"I do," Valencia said. A few more pops and one click later, she had the answer. "Sandford, Michaels and Berry, limited liability company."

She was pacing in the front living room, Shakespeare trailing her and whining impatiently as though he wished she could make up her mind and stay still. She glanced down at him through her glasses and they met eyes for a few seconds before she heard what sounded like a car door slam outside.

Sheldon had not designated a time that he would be there, but he told Amy that he would be back tomorrow, and she trusted him to keep his word. With a soft smile, she hurried to the door and waited for him to knock before opening it. She felt a wave of fluttering begin in her stomach and spread throughout her bones which was a good sign; the medication had yet to stifle the butterflies. But a part of her figured that the butterflies were not just a sign of infatuation, but of anxiety. Her conversation with Valencia on the phone a few hours ago weighed heavily on her mind, as well as the picture she had found of her father and the group of people he was surrounded by, namely the man that resembled Sheldon so much it gave her a chill. She couldn't wait to share this information with him, and perhaps together they could figure out where her map had appeared from.

The knock came.

She smoothed her blow-dried hair behind her ears, freshly showered and hopefully presentable in a royal blue cardigan over a white tank top that wasn't shy in the cleavage showing department, and dark denim jeans. Then with a deep breath, she turned the knob and smiled widely at her company.

Her smile only lasted for a split second before she had to lower her eyes to meet her company's gaze, who was much shorter than who she had been expecting. "Rajesh?" she asked in confusion.

"Hello, Amy," he greeted her with his own wide smile. "Let me guess—not who you were expecting?"

"No." Amy fought to keep the apprehension out of her voice and took a step back. Her mind quickly visualized the box from his law firm that held all of the private matters of her father's childhood inside. "But still a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?"

"Well, Sheldon called Howard and Bernadette and told them about the idea of having this weekend performance's after party here at your place. And what you may not know about me is that I'm sort of a party planner myself. I mean, if it weren't for me, Sheldon would sooner serve his guests bottled water and Ritz crackers than the delicious wine and course spread I put out for everyone." He shook his head and huffed, earning a curious glance from Amy. "Anyway, so I took it upon myself to come here and help spruce up your place."

"Oh." Amy furrowed her eyebrows and risked a glance over Rajesh's shoulder. He followed her line of sight and turned to look over his shoulder too before turning back around to face Amy. She snapped out of it when he chuckled. "Sorry, I'm so rude. Please, come in." She bit her tongue, hoping she wasn't making a big mistake.

Where was Sheldon? she thought to herself. Did he know that Rajesh was coming by?

"Thank you," he said graciously, walking in slowly. "Oh, hey, pooch!" He bent at the knee as Amy closed the door behind him and watched Shakespeare run over to his long lost friend. "Who's a good boy?"

As she watched him speak in almost babyish tones to her dog, Amy couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed for being so afraid. There could always be a reasonable explanation for the box in her room. Her grandparents died so long ago, Rajesh wasn't even in the country at the time. The law firm could have easily existed before he started working there. What would he have to do with any of this?

Shakespeare barked happily in conversation with his old friend and interrupted Amy's thoughts.

"You remember my dog, Shakespeare," she told him. "Shakespeare, you remember Rajesh."

"Amy, please," Rajesh said as he rose back up from his bent position. He turned and looked down at her with a teasing smile. "I've told you. Call me Raj." She noticed him bring his pouty lips together and she averted her gaze, his dark eyes staring at her too intensely than what was comfortable.

"Right," she assented with an uneasy grin. "Raj. So, did Sheldon tell you where I live?"

"Oh, no," he said with a shake of his head. "Howard told me you lived at River Road Manor, since I'm familiar with the area, I just drove over. I hope you don't mind me stopping by unannounced."

"No, that's fine." Amy walked around Raj, giving herself a wide girth as she walked ahead of her guest. "It's always nice to see you, Raj. I'm sorry I don't entertain people so I have practically nothing in my fridge. Would you like a glass of water or some wine?" She made herself stop talking, afraid that she was rambling.

Raj took a step closer to her, his hands in his pockets. He was dressed sharply again, in a black V-neck sweater with the Polo logo on the breast and his slacks were gray. "Sure," he said finally after a long moment of silence. "Wine would be great." His eyes fluttered down her figure unabashedly before he suddenly looked away, as if embarrassed by his own rude blunder. His skin a pleasant caramel color, but Amy was sure she could see a blush.

"Okay, follow me," she said then hesitantly turned her back to lead him into the kitchen. Amy could not readily explain the intense vibes of trepidation that she was feeling being in such close proximity with Raj right now, but she figured it had something to do with the way he was watching her. When they got to the kitchen, she turned to look at him again. He had a handsome, albeit disturbing grin plastered on his face, and it made her feel slightly dirty as she reached for a new bottle from atop her refrigerator and a cork screw in the drawer beneath her sink. What happened to the sweet, shy Rajesh she had met that first night at the Coliseum? Then again over coffee at the café in town? This Raj was causing her to feel antsy.

"So," she said after a minute of silence, working the screw into the cork of the bottle. "What do you have planned for my home?"

"Well," he began, his accent thick. "I was thinking you could give me a tour, first. So I can get a better feel of what I want to do with this place."

"Oh," Amy said softly as she poured the wine into two glasses. "Well, I don't want an extreme home makeover or anything. Sheldon says my living area is big enough to convert as a ballroom for the night."

"Excuse me for being so bold, Amy," Rajesh interrupted suddenly, taking a few steps closer to her. If he reached his arm out, he could touch her. She fought the urge to recoil and took comfort in seeing that his arms were still by his sides. He continued, lowering his voice a register. "But I have to say, you are beautiful."

Amy's lips pursed together for a moment as realization tumbled onto her head and cascaded down her shoulders. It was no wonder Raj was making her uncomfortable with his long gazes and husky voice; he was showing interest in her. Maybe under normal circumstances, she would feel flattered at the attention. But it only made her uneasy. Maybe it was the medication dulling her senses, or maybe it was because she felt as though encouraging him would be a slight to Sheldon. Either way, Amy wasn't sure what to say now.

"I was taken with you from the first moment I saw you, if I may say so." He licked his lips and stared at her hopefully. "As you know, talking to women is new for me, so I'm sorry if I'm going about this in the wrong way, but…" She shook her head, cutting him off. Then she leveled her eyes so that they were looking only at his chest.

"I…" she started, but was abruptly, and gratefully, interrupted by Shakespeare's sudden riotous barking as he ran out of the kitchen and towards the front door. They both jumped and Raj gave an uneasy laugh, seemingly grateful for the break in tension.

"Hello?" came a voice from the foyer. They heard her door close.

Raj turned and Amy followed his gaze to the entrance of the kitchen where Sheldon appeared with Howard and Bernadette in tow.

"Sheldon!" Amy called, walking past Raj towards the tall man with imploring blue eyes. She stopped in front of him, forcing herself not to rise up on her tip-toes and kiss him, even though she really wanted to. It was unknown how forward she could be now that they were in the company of his friends. "You're here."

"Hello, Amy," he said sweetly, peering down at her with affection. His hands were full; he had a box wedged under his armpit and the other hand held a paper sack close to his body. After he smiled at her, he looked up to see Raj standing alone by the refrigerator. Amy saw it then; the tiniest shift of Sheldon's smile as it turned downward, almost into a scowl. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. "Hi, Raj. What are you doing here?"

"Hello," Raj said and waved casually. "Howard told me about the party. I wanted to come see Amy's digs and help out with the planning."

It was quiet for a moment as Sheldon nodded thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving Raj's. The intensity once again became too much for Amy and she felt her breath quicken. She scrambled for a distraction to cut the tension.

"Howard, Bernadette!" she nearly shouted, moving around Sheldon to greet the two other guests who were watching the two men's stare-off in awe. "Come into the kitchen, guys. Put that stuff here on the counter." She was curious to see that the small couple was also holding paper sacks. "Where did you guys go?"

"We went into town to buy you some groceries," Bernadette informed her in a high, tinkling voice. "Sheldon told us you were running on empty." With that, she began to unload the paper sacks while Howard grinned at Amy and shrugged.

"Hey," Amy said softly, looking up at Sheldon. "I can do my own shopping. This wasn't necessary." She poked his arm with her finger. "Sheldon." She tried to sound stern.

"Yes, Amy, you are perfectly capable of shopping on your own," he finally said. He broke his stare with Raj and looked down at her with a playful gleam in his eye. "But what you lack is the motivation. You said so yourself: you're the most pathetic bachelor in the world." He winked at her as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't worry," he added. "It's not much. Just enough for tonight. I'm going to make dinner."

Amy's jaw dropped and she stepped out of the way so that Sheldon could place the items in his arms on the counter. "Really? Here?"

"Yes," he said with a nod and turned around to face her, his arms now free. He opened his mouth to say something else but then closed it again and took two steps towards her. In a second, he had both arms wrapped around her waist and he leaned down to gently brush his lips against hers. Amy forgot about her guests and about Raj's unexpected compliment, and even forgot how to breathe as for a few blissful seconds, she felt the eager pressure of Sheldon's lips on hers. She hadn't had the time to wet her lips before he kissed her, so as he withdrew, she felt his moist mouth stay stuck to hers, lightly tugging on her bottom lip as he pulled away completely. She blinked up at him, still enveloped in his arms.

"I missed you," he said simply, as if explaining his behavior.

She was still speechless, her arms limply hanging by her sides, when she heard Howard clear his throat.

"Should we, uh, leave?" he quipped. Bernadette giggled.

Amy came to her senses and blinked a few times, surrounded by Sheldon's arms, warmth, and clean scent. She finally found the strength to pull her eyes away from his and looked over her shoulder at her company. His arms loosened their grip and she blushed furiously, taking a step away from him and licked her lips, his taste lingering there still.

"Let me show you all around," she offered. She fought the trembling in her stomach and the knocking of her knees as Sheldon smiled at her devilishly, enjoying the whole spectacle. She perched an eyebrow at him before returning her gaze to the couple.

"Sounds good," Howard said.

"Great, follow me." She paused and looked around until she met Raj's crestfallen expression. It suddenly occurred to her that he was probably the last to know of her and Sheldon's situation, as Howard and Bernadette didn't look surprised at all, only amused.

She snuck a firm glance at her partner in crime, wondering if Sheldon had only been so bold to take her in front of Raj to be spiteful. It was obvious he was none too pleased to see him here. She shook the thought and refocused on the quiet man in the corner by the refrigerator, holding a full glass of wine.

"Raj," she said softly. "Come with us." She smiled when he nodded politely and followed them.

"I've already seen the whole place," Sheldon called after them loudly as they started to leave the kitchen. "Even upstairs." Amy paused and pivoted on her heel, staring at Sheldon with wide eyes, which only amused him further. His blue orbs danced evilly. "You all go on without me, I'll start preparing the food." He winked at Amy then turned towards the bags to finish unpacking his purchases, humming quietly to himself.

"Amy, this place is amazing," Bernadette said as they roamed the halls. "The structure, so beautiful. Very Victorian."

"Thank you," Amy repeated for what seemed like the tenth time. "It belonged to my grandparents." She left out the part about it belonging to her father subsequently, thus the reason for her inheriting it. No one that she had met in Evergreen Falls had yet to recognize her as Robbie Fowler's daughter, or if they had, they were too polite to mention it. This had helped her to relax that first night at the Coliseum and even right now. It was nice to finally be the center of attention but for her house, not her highly publicized psychotic episodes of her youth.

She let Howard and Bernadette go on a little ahead of her as they walked around the living area that would soon be converted into a ball room, and hung back to allow Raj to catch up. He finally walked next to Amy and stood by her side. The two silently watched Howard spontaneously grab ahold of his wife and swing her around like a pair of ballroom dancers, humming an unfamiliar tune in her ear. Amy tilted her head to the side, smiling at the sight. Then she remembered the very quiet man next to her.

"Raj," she said softly. "I didn't get to thank you for your compliment."

"That's okay," he mumbled friendlily. "I understand. I think."

Amy nodded quietly, though he didn't ask her anything. They looked on again as the married couple continued to spin around to their own silent music. She caught Howard's eye as he looked over at them curiously.

"So, you and Sheldon, huh?"

She dropped eye contact with Howard and looked to the left to face Raj. "I think so, yeah."

"You sound so unsure," he observed, eyeing her with a perplexed expression.

"It's new," Amy admitted, then suddenly felt very foolish. "I'm sorry, I don't feel comfortable speaking about this."

"It's alright," he laughed lightly. He drained the rest of his wine glass and pursed his lips. "Don't apologize so much. I knew I was coming on too strong earlier, and for that, I apologize." He blinked slowly, and Amy wondered if she had poured that glass of wine too full. "I had better get going. Your house is lovely, and I have a good idea of how I want to decorate everything."

"You're not going to stay for dinner?" Amy waited for an answer, but saw that Raj's tired features had suddenly steeled as he glanced straight ahead towards the other entrance of the living room, the one closest to the kitchen. She followed his gaze and realized he was staring at Sheldon, who had just joined them.

"No," he answered her suddenly, breaking his stare and looking straight at her. "I'm not hungry. But thank you."

"Okay," she said quietly. "Well, stop by anytime, Raj. Thank you for coming. I'm sure you're going to make this weekend a lovely event." She reached out to take his empty wine glass and froze when his fingers brushed against hers in the exchange. To ease the reappearing tension, she made a small joke. "And send me the bill. Try to keep it under a cool million bucks, okay?" She was relieved when he awarded her with a tiny smile, his teeth blindingly white.

"Deal." And with a wink, he stuffed his hands into his pockets and walked away, cutting across the floor and easing past the still dancing couple. Without another word, he shuffled past Sheldon, neither meeting each other's eyes, and a few seconds later, they heard the front door shut. Shakespeare came running into the living room and sought out Amy, his eyes widening in sadness that his only friend had left him again.

Amy watched her dog and was about to call him to come to her side when the four-legged creature's mood suddenly shifted and he whirled around, zoning in on Howard and Bernadette before emitting a roll of vicious snarls in their direction.

"Shakes!" she called severely then clapped her hands once. "Come!" She waited while her dog and Howard stared each other down, just like the first day when they had come to pick Amy up to take her to the theater in the woods. That day, Howard had been afraid of Shakespeare's barks, and had even asked her if he bit.

But Amy watched in shock as Howard sneered down at the dog, and this time, there was no fear in his face at all.

After another round of growling, Amy clapped again and called her dog's name. This time, he came padding over to her and sat on his haunches, faithfully waiting by her side. She cleared her throat and looked up again, this time meeting Sheldon's eyes who watched the entire exchange with a puzzled look on his face.

"I'm sorry about that, Howard," Amy said hesitantly. "He's usually better behaved."

"It's okay," Howard sniffed and gave her an easy smile. "He's just protective. I get it." He looked down at Bernadette and they shared a loving smile.

"Everyone ready to eat?" Sheldon broke the silence.

Amy was relieved that Howard and Bernadette were eager to leave after they finished eating. Sheldon had prepared homemade lasagna with pre-cooked sauces and meat, which was why it didn't take long to prepare, but it sure did fill all of their stomachs.

Both Amy and Sheldon stood at the front door, waving off Bernadette and Howard as they walked to their car. After Raj had left so quickly, the tension had immediately lifted, but Amy was not about to let Sheldon off the hook so easily. As soon as they closed the door and were finally alone, she opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by two large hands on her hips that forced her firmly against the closed front door.

"Sheldon!" she said, scandalized at his ravenous behavior. She gasped when he pressed the full length of his body against her, pushing her against the wooden frame. "What's gotten into you?"

"What's gotten into you?" Sheldon echoed in a teasing tone. Amy raised her eyebrow, unsure of what he meant until she felt the shocking intrusion of one of his hands between her legs. He spread his fingers and began to tease her center over her jeans. She slammed her head backward in shock, the loud thud of her skull on the door causing her to wince, but the faint pain was quickly overshadowed by the pressure of being fondled over her clothes by a sure hand.

She had to bite her lip from asking him, What happened to going slow? She was a virgin, not an idiot.

"Does that feel good?" he whispered, his eyes now level with hers as he bent down, pushing his fingers harder against her, causing her knees to wobble. Amy nodded slowly, fighting to keep her eyes open. She brought her arms up and wrapped them around Sheldon's neck, pulling him down to kiss her. He obliged, running his tongue over hers as his fingers down below became more insistent. She whimpered when she felt them travel up and undo the button on her fly.

He pulled his lips away from hers to gauge her reaction.

"Please," she begged, unsure if she could form any more coherent words, so she poured as much emotion into that one word as possible. Suddenly, all the important questions she had to ask him about his behavior with Raj and the picture she had found in the box were simply not that important anymore. They died on her lips as Sheldon dove in and took her tongue in between his teeth, nibbling on her a bit before he slowly pulled down her zipper.

"You don't know what you do to me," he mumbled against her mouth, slowly parting her zipper with one hand, the other hand threading with her hair at the base of her neck. "Oh, Amy." His eyes blazed with a fiercer hunger than she had seen in him last night, and suddenly the air was still. Neither of them breathed. Amy knew it was the calm before the storm.

And like a moving picture set to fast forward, the quiet passed and Sheldon quickly dropped his hand from her hair. He reached down and grabbed her thigh with his large palm, then hiked it onto his hip. The other hand plunged into her jeans, beneath her underwear, and immediately found the wetness that had beckoned him.

She couldn't tell whose moans were louder in those initial seconds of contact. Amy had never been touched this way before so her cries of pleasure were raspy, stunted. Sheldon's grunts were muffled as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, relishing the warmth between her thighs. He trapped his hand between their bodies as he grinded into her, using his two fingers to explore her, rocking against her with her leg on his hip to give him better access.

Amy was more than sure that they looked animalistic, rubbing their cores against each other, Sheldon's hand hidden between her legs, her teeth sinking into his shoulder as he whined her name repeatedly in her ear.

"Amy, Amy…"

Before he could say it one more time, she threw caution to the wind and reached her uninjured hand down to burrow between the friction and began to rub his erection over his jeans. He exhaled loudly at her touch and let go of her leg for a moment to fumble with his own fly. She helped pull down the zipper carefully and soon she bit back her fear of inexperience and fingered her way into the waistband of his underwear. Soon, she felt her fingers wrap around his smooth, hard length. She innately began to stroke him, relishing the look of pure ecstasy on his features as he looked her in the eye. All the while, he continued to move his fingers in and out of her, matching the pace of her strokes.

"Yes," he hissed, his tongue touching his teeth which gave off the impression of that cute lisp Amy loved to hear. "You're so wet…"

He trailed off as Amy jerked him faster, careful not to squeeze him too hard, but her hold was firm. In response, he added a third finger. Before she could process another thought, a yell ripped out of her throat and hundreds of starry dots exploded in her vision. She felt her walls quiver around his hand and she moaned his name as he brought her to completion. Seconds later, Sheldon cried out as well, his hips rocking against her slower as her last couple of strokes resulted in his release. She moaned as the warm liquid splattered against her palm and only stopped moving with him when he winced and gave a small laugh, slowly detaching her hand from his spent member. Amy immediately let go; simple anatomy dictated that once a man had ejaculated, further stimulation was uncomfortable for the following moments.

They stood there, Sheldon still pressed firmly against Amy's body, and he laid his forehead on her shoulder, his warm breath tickling her heaving chest. After a few rounds of heavy breathing, he finally spoke.

"Amy," he murmured against her shoulder. "Will you be my date to the party on Friday?"

"You mean to the party here at my house?" she asked breathlessly.

"Yes," he said before gulping more air in. "That's the one."

"Yes," she answered. "I'll be your date."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Amy sipped from a glass of wine as she sat at her kitchen table. She had taken the opportunity to load the dishwasher as Sheldon excused himself to the guest bathroom down the hall, and now she waited for him, the picture she had found of her father, his friends, and the RV lying flat in front of her on the table top.

After their escapade in the foyer, Amy had been extremely relieved that her medication had at least not taken her desire for Sheldon away from her and at the same time had kept visions of Penelope away. But after she had a few minutes to herself, she had realized that there were still so many questions to be answered. And judging by the familiar looking man with his arm draped around her father's shoulder in the picture, Sheldon was her best bet at answering them.

She looked up when she heard him walk back into the kitchen. His face was slightly flush and he was smiling shyly. He took the seat next to her and nudged her with his elbow. She nudged him back and they shared a laugh.

"I'm sorry for my behavior," he said after they lulled into a silence. "I don't know what came over me. I know we agreed to take it slow."

"It's okay," Amy assured him. "I didn't mind." She lowered her voice. "At all."

"Vixen." He waggled his eyebrows at her before he looked down at the table. His smile immediately dropped from his face. "What…what's that?"

Amy took a deep breath and pressed her fingers to the photograph. "I found a box in my room last night. This was inside, and you need to see it." Then she slid the picture over to him, which he took right away and began to study. She watched his features pale and he stood up without saying a word. She began to panic as he turned around and left the table.

"Sheldon," she said, anxiety creeping up her throat. "Where are you going?" She saw him stop at the counter where he had placed the box he had brought in earlier when he arrived. He picked it up and hauled it over back to Amy, setting it down on the table.

After a few seconds, Sheldon reached into the open box and sifted through it before he found what he was looking for.

"Something…something is going on," he said quietly. She studied his face as he pulled out the photograph and handed it to her. She took it and what she saw didn't surprise her as much as it should have.

In her hands was the exact same picture that she had clutched in her other hand.

Before she could say another word, Sheldon sat back down and placed his palm over hers. "Amy, I have a confession to make."

She tore her eyes away from the photo and looked up at him, her breath caught in her throat as she waited for him to continue. He took a deep breath and rubbed his free hand over his neck.

"This is a picture of my father and his friends. And the friend that he has his arm around is the late, great Robbie Fowler."

Amy didn't say a word as her equilibrium wavered.

"Robbie Fowler," he repeated. "Your father. I know who you are, Amy."