Amy's "friends" evening had gone surprisingly well.

Sheldon had, of course, played his arrogant "I'm a theoretical physicist with multiple degrees and I did it all before I was twenty" card and had been gently put in his place by … well, all of them.

Jim had clinched it with the "that's adorable, what have you done lately" play. Sheldon sulked.

To her surprise, she enjoyed herself.

To her surprise, she realized that these people could really be her friends.

To her surprise, Sheldon, once he'd gotten over his sulk, had behaved rather well.

She had had no real plan for the evening – no movie and no games. She couldn't really plan things like that. She'd just gotten people and food together and hoped for the best (while expecting the worst). They'd talked and gotten to know each other and it was … fun.

Alice was the last of the group to leave, having helped with cleanup. As Amy walked with her to the door, she surprised Amy by saying "I'm glad you invited us. We always thought you were sort of stuck up and standoffish so, while we wanted to get to know you, we felt like we wouldn't be welcome. It's easy to forget that people can be shy and a little introverted. Anyway, I'm having some friends over next Saturday. I'd like it if you came – you can even bring Skinny if you want." She nodded in Sheldon's direction. "He's sort of an ass, but, truthfully, most of us academics are and, as asses go, he's not the worst." She laughed. "Jim .. Jim's the worst, See you at work, and thanks again."

Amy grinned, "Thanks for coming. And thanks for the cupcakes. By the way, why did you say why did you say what you did? You know, the 'knowing you' thing."

"Oh, that's easy. This was the 'meet the friends' get together, right? I figured faking it a little wouldn't hurt."

As Alice left, Amy turned back to see … Sheldon – sitting upright on her couch, hands folded, waiting expectantly.

She sighed and went over to sit on the easy chair across from him.

"Sheldon, I think it's time for me to take you home."

"Yes, but, I think we need to take a moment to discuss what comes next."

"Oh. And what, do you think, should come next?"

"I think that we should have the seventh meeting. We choose either one of our apartments or a neutral space, if you will, and have both sets of friends meet. It would be a large group, so I think your place might be too small." He stopped and looked at her as if waiting for something.

"And after that, do you expect to negotiate a new agreement?"

"Perhaps, but right now I want to think about completing this one. I know that you had some reservations about my group of friends as I have some about yours – albeit, I suspect fewer than you have – about my friends, I mean. The Drs. Talbot would have few issues, but Dr. Webb might be subject to unwelcome attention from Howard and Dr. Paige, I think would have even less patience with Raj and Leonard than I do. And while Bernadette, as a doctoral candidate in microbiology, could hold her own, I suspect Penny will be woefully out of her depth. I would stipulate that Penny would not be invited, but then Leonard would just bring her anyway and, where Bernadette goes, Howard follows." He sighed.

"Well, if you really want to go ahead with this, I'll defer to your judgement. The agreement doesn't require the seventh meeting."

"It does if we wish to negotiate further interactions."

Amy looked heavenward and shook her head.

"Very well, but don't schedule it for next Saturday. Alice – Dr. Webb – has invited me to a get together at her place. She extended the invitation to you if you care to accompany me."

"This is most irregular. I did not think of such an eventuality or I could have covered it in the agreement. I don't know how I should respond."

"You could live dangerously and go with me."

He looked stunned.

"Amy, my whole life is predicated on control of my actions and my environment. Everything is planned and scheduled so there will be no unpleasant surprises. In the past few months – since interacting with you – I have come dangerously close to letting go of that control. This … this .. business of attending an impromptu social engagement is … chaotic."

"You mean buying me those CDs was planned?"

"Yes. I had planned, should you have expressed an interest in having something, to get it for you. When you made that statement about wishing to have a recording of Leonard Nimoy's voice, I recalled that there were several in the gift shop and purchased a sufficient quantity to approximate the value of the railroad car and book. It did please me to think that you shared an interest with me."

"Oh." Amy looked completely nonplussed.

"I pride myself on being able to plan for the most minute eventuality, so this engagement at Dr. Webb's has, to use a slang term, blindsided me. As I said, impromptu social engagements …"

"Sheldon," Amy interrupted, "It's not impromptu. She's been planning it, and a week's notice is considered sufficient to be both courteous and adaptable to your schedule. Now, are you able to adjust your schedule in order to accompany me?" Amy could hardly believe what she was saying – she was asking Sheldon out. She, Amy, was pushing herself so far outside her comfort zone that she hardly knew herself. And she was enjoying it. And she was scared about it.

"Very well. I will adjust my schedule. Will you object if I make alternate plans for us should the evening not go well?"

"I will stipulate that we spend enough time there to satisfy good manners – say an hour. If at any time after that hour is up either of us feels sufficiently uncomfortable, the person feeling the discomfort will say a previously agreed upon code word and we will make our excuses and leave. Alice – Dr. Webb – has been very nice to me and I don't wish to offend her. And, no, we don't need a written contract for this. A verbal agreement will suffice."

He looked doubtful, but nodded.

"What word should we use?"

"It should be something that we would not ordinarily use, but that would not sound out of place in conversation – perhaps a current idiom."

"An hour seems excessive, but very well."

As it turned out, a code word was not needed and an hour was not nearly enough time.

Sheldon had, after an initial attempt at flight, found an experimental physicist from UCLA and they had headed off to a corner to have a heated, though enjoyable, discussion about string theory versus quantum loop gravity. Somehow they had managed to find a blank whiteboard and spent the evening happily writing and erasing formulae while wildly gesticulating at each other. Amy had found herself in a small group of psychiatrists and neuroscientists discussing research and the woes of the 'publish or perish' culture in academia. The evening had ended far too soon.