After the disastrous "friends" evening, Amy was tempted to break the contract. She knew there were no real legal repercussions. The worst that would happen would be that Sheldon and his friends would not be in her life, and she was used to, even preferred, being alone, so that wasn't really a punishment.
Ultimately, she decided to see it through. Her mother would play the guilt card to the hilt if she told her that she had terminated the "relationship" with Sheldon and Amy wasn't quite ready for that.
Sheldon's choice of venue for their fourth date was fortunate. He had kept it general and chosen Griffith Park. Amy suspected that he really wanted to go to the train museum, but the choice of activity was hers. She chose the zoo. She liked observing the primates in a habitat that wasn't constrained by tiny little cages and the demands of research. She was perfectly aware that, while it was closer to natural at the zoo than it was in her lab, it was nothing like monkeys and apes in the wild. Still, it would do until she could get funds for travel. She thought of Diane Fossey with something approaching envy.
She got lost in observing a group of Rhesus monkeys going about their lives – squabbling, eating, mating, flinging feces – doing all the things that wild primates do when not inhibited by artificially imposed social conventions. She was making mental notes (which she would later transcribe to one of her observation journals) when she felt an insistent tugging on her sleeve - tug, tug, tug, pause, tug, tug, tug, pause, tug, tug, tug, extremely long pause. She closed her eyes briefly, stifled a sigh, and turned to see what the badly socialized primate accompanying her wanted.
"What, Sheldon?" They had agreed to given names rather than surnames and honorifics in the interests of efficiency.
"Amy, you've been staring at those monkeys for a full twenty minutes now. I cannot begin to understand what is so fascinating about them. I would like to go see the koalas."
She gave an audible sigh and acquiesced. They would go see the koalas.
Sheldon gave the koalas as much attention as she had given the monkeys. The disturbing smile appeared and widened. She realized that this was a smile of pleasure, even happiness – this was how one knew when Sheldon was enjoying himself. She wondered how long she was going to have to observe koalas, or worse, observe Sheldon.
She wasn't displeased that he was able to find things to enjoy at any of the venues she suggested. She wasn't displeased at the koalas – they were cute, though not as interesting as primates. She had to admit that, while he didn't enjoy or understand her interests, he was good about giving her time to indulge them – very little time and grudgingly, but time, nonetheless. She began wondering why she wasn't able to enjoy his company as much as he seemed to be enjoying hers. She began wondering about her choice of venue. Perhaps, she thought, choosing the Hollywood Bowl and letting him choose the concert would be too restrictive. He had been very open when he chose Griffith park and, even including the koalas, she was enjoying the zoo. She decided to discard the Hollywood Bowl idea. Griffith Park really was an inspired notion – there was something to interest everyone. She found that, while she couldn't really warm to Sheldon as "boyfriend" material, he could be a suitable companion for the occasional outing – as long as she didn't push her own agenda too much. It would also, she noted, serve to limit her mother's interference.
"Sheldon", she said, "we've been looking at the koalas for an even longer time than we looked at the monkeys. I suggest that we take a swing around the zoo, looking at the other animals, stop by the primates one more time, so I can do further observations then, on our way out, we can stop at the koalas again. Is that agreeable to you?"
He looked resigned, "I suppose. As long as we stop by the koalas again. Why do you find monkeys so interesting? As far as I can see, they're not intelligent, display the worst of human behavior, and are not at all clean. All I have to do is look at the people around me to see that. Koalas are, at least," he paused, looking for an appropriate word. He finally sighed and said, "cute."
"I use monkeys in my research. It seems to me that I should have some understanding of how they behave in an environment that more closely approximates their natural surroundings than a lab cage. The zoo isn't the best place to see this, but it's as close as I can come to with my limited travel budget."
"Ah, well. That's logical. Very well." He pondered a moment. "Why do you use monkeys in your research?"
"Because it's illegal to use humans unless they volunteer and there are never enough volunteers. Besides, I'm studying the effects of addiction on the neurological systems and giving humans controlled substances, even as part of a legitimate study, would not be tolerated. Monkeys, as you indicated, approximate human behavior and neurobiology, so we use them – because while it's not ok to force a human to become addicted, it is, apparently, perfectly fine to force an animal."
He nodded. "That seems a roundabout way of doing things, and very illogical. If the study is supposed to lead to better information about the effects of drug addiction on the human nervous system, it follows that one should use humans and not an approximation. Physics is much better in that regard."
"Perhaps, but these are the restrictions with which we have to work."
He snorted.
That was the longest conversation they had had in the time they had spent together.
Amy had decided that, because of the variety of experiences available, Griffith Park would be her selection of venue as well. She fully expected that he would choose to see the trains and had prepared herself for an afternoon of feigning interest.
To her surprise, he chose the observatory. He smiled what she had begun to term his "koala smile".
"I'm surprised, I thought perhaps you would select the travel venue. I know you're fond of trains."
"I am, and ordinarily I would have chosen it, but I want to see the Leonard Nimoy Event Horizon Theater, I understand they have some new programs and they're narrated by him."
"Leonard Nimoy? I seem to remember that he had a small part in the Star Trek movie."
"Small part!? He was the original Spock in The Original Series!" He spoke with reverence. "We will, of course, explore the rest of the observatory, there's a great deal of interest there, but the theater will be an important part of the program." He smiled his koala smile.
Their tour of the observatory was not uninteresting. There were areas of it that she found tedious, but it was, largely, engaging. The night sky show was informative and might have been romantic under other circumstances, using the telescopes was an enlightening experience. The program in the Leonard Nimoy Event Horizon Theater (he insisted that they use the full name) was surprisingly accessible and well-presented. She particularly enjoyed Nimoy's voice, which she found mellifluous and soothing. She half-jokingly mentioned to Sheldon that she might like to get a recording of his voice just because it was so pleasant.
He looked at her oddly for a moment, then disappeared into the crowd.
Her emotions had cycled from startled to alarmed to irritated to angry when he reappeared and thrust a bag into her hands.
"There are three of his CDs in that bag. There's a remastered Mr. Spock's Music from Outer Space, and two others. I hope you enjoy them. I'm pleased that you find his work enjoyable."
Amy was dumbfounded. "I can't accept these," She began.
"Yes you can, you bought me the train car replica and the book. It's only fair that I get you these CDs – you said you wanted a recording of him. Well, now you have three."
Amy was beginning to feel slight twinges of trepidation. The last thing she wanted or needed was Sheldon developing an interest in her.
The following Saturday she picked Sheldon up for the meeting in her home with her "friends". She had, much to her surprise and chagrin, found three people who were willing to come to her place to socialize. She suspected it had much to do with curiosity about Sheldon and the sort of man who would willingly spend time with her. When they arrived, they found Dr. Alice Webb, a fellow neurobiologist, waiting for them. She handed Amy a bakery box. "Cupcakes, Amy. Knowing you, you forgot." Amy was flustered and had a little trouble with the lock. She noticed Alice giving Sheldon the once over and felt something that she had trouble identifying. It shocked her slightly when she recognized it as jealousy. They had just entered her apartment when three other people arrived. Dr. David Talbot and his wife, Dr. Renee Jones-Talbot, both biomedical engineers. With them was Dr. James Paige, a geneticist, who was Alice's sometime boyfriend. "I hope you don't mind, Amy, we couldn't leave Jim behind, he was at loose ends tonight and needed company." Alice looked distinctly displeased.
Oh, Lord, Amy thought to herself, I hope they keep the drama to themselves. The figurative feces flinging of sexually dissatisfied humans was not something she was prepared to endure: or to ask someone else to endure. "Alice," she said quietly, "would you please help me set out the refreshments?"