A/N: I deeply appreciate you all for your kind words; An honour to share this small, eensy-weensy work of mine with the people I respect. For my dear friend, it is with my gratitude that this story is helping you to navigate through a time of hardship.Lots of love and comfort to you.
Here, you might come across small yet many allegories/symbols that foreshadow a possible fate. Let's see if you can spot them haha. And my oh my, will we see a little feud in this chapter?
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/ Disclaimer: I own nothing of The Big Bang Theory. This is for entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended. /
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~Chapter 5~
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~My life was painted black and white.
Until you came and add colors to it.~
She dreamt of hills
of growing trees,
Of birds who sang
To welcoming breeze,
She felt the grass
Softly sway,
She felt the sun
The heart of day,
She heard these songs
So sweet, so strong,
They took her mind
To love long lost.
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She tucked her hair behind her ears.
She brushed it out once again.
To her greatest endeavor, she did not know how she would present herself to the board members. By irrevocably knotting her few front strands, the brunette came to push her hair behind her ears.
Beyond her was the bright and glittering day, the sky a breathless blue, and the wooden sidewalks jutted like broken teeth across the lake. There were trees whispering behind the walls of the gable houses she passed by, the cool breeze touching the back of her neck.
The week before felt only like a memory. A memory, in context to this— all intents and purposes— was to point to the definition of making a past event vague or less distinct.
Lest to Amy, that memory did not go away. It was hard to put into words, when instead of blurred, the first electric shock that circulated under her skin cannot be shaken away.
You could say it clung to her more than she wanted to admit. Especially the highly judgmental and hard to impress stranger she had crossed paths with.
Anyhow, it was good news that Amy had completely withdrawn from her position back in Glendale; every furniture and file was now residing in her new office at Caltech.
She presently had written a checklist of sorts, categorized under two subheadings:
Comforting prospect and the upside:-
-To give the different part of the country her own spice of scholarly enlightenment.
-A treat in venturing amongst the change of scenery.
-Have her name be held under the most respected construction ever by man.
Challenge and negative aspect:-
-Dealing with change (alone)
-Her integration into a new social circle
-Being put in uncharted territory: a realm in which she has to be careful and certain of her own abilities.
-Last but not least: Dr. Not-So-Friendly.
Patting the trunk of the magnificent oak, she felt its warmth beneath her fingers, its welcoming strength. Amy had acres to walk through, and the sun was rising. The smoke of the neighbors' chimney was as delicate as silk against the brilliant dawn. The homeowner would be waking with avarice in his heart and deception in his eyes. As the summer bloomed he would try to clear her along with the shrubs and stones and snags, as though a woman were no more than another obstacle on the landscape. But she had shed sweat and blood to make this land a part of herself, her home. She was not so easily frightened away.
There was a resolute strength of this woman tending to the work of nature, solid as an oak. There may be adversities in the future, but this woman was ready to fight.
Smoothing down her petticoat, she looked straight ahead with her self-protective safeguard position. For every threat or menace, Amy was prepared to ward them off.
Over the years, she grew to fend for herself– there was nothing that could tip her over like a leaf. With all her hard work, no one can break in and steal her fortress.
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"Come, make haste! It is about to start," the swarthy caramel-skinned gentleman hollered, leaning out the door to call to his co-workers, who was down the hall a few steps.
"We heard you, we heard you." Dr. Hofstadter said meekly.
"Golly, isn't that tasmanian devil a bit enthusiastic?"
"You yourself seem a bit cock-a-hoop today, Howard, are you not?"
"Wowzers, you see right through me. Do tell, are those x-ray vision goggles you have invented perchance?"
Leonard rolled his eyes. "Apart from you, I look smart in these with my bulldogger tie and tuxedo."
"At least I do not squint like a blind bat."
Dr. Koothrappali rebounded his calls, "Move on you sluggish yippers. I'm getting the front row spot with or without your company!"
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"Greetings to everyone! I would like to voice my appreciation to those who are attending to our formal rendezvous. You are all not going to hobnob on an empty stomach as there is a beverage served together with treats." A man, who seemed to be close to her father's age, announced behind a podium.
"As you may know, I, Dr. Gablehauser, will be tonight's compère." The head of the Physics Department said above the heads of the hundred and twenty members seated.
Standing on the cloaked side of the platform was the place she waited, her heart beating in an unsteady pace of excitement.
"Psst," a voice rang out in his ears. The dark-haired man tilted his body to create enough space between him and the owner of the voice.
"What is it now, Wolowitz?" Dr. Cooper asked, impatiently to the man sitting beside him.
"This is your last call. Are you positive that you do not admire her?"
Admire? Him, Cooper? Her? From all the years he spent with the engineer, this must be the most mad, bonkers, unreasonable thing he had heard from him.
"I do. not. like. her. one bit, I assure you." The physicist said with resolution.
"Splendid, then you shall see the magic of my enchantment soon,"
"Question-," The tall man gave him an eye, "why is it that you care if I do or not? If another man had liked one thing, you wouldn't resist your own feelings."
Howard nodded with a shrug, "That is true."
The group of friends were seated far back from the stage. Notwithstanding their scurried pace, it seemed that they were robbed of not only the first but the second row as well.
"First, I want to recap our findings and status. The National Science Board approves the first twenty-eight research grants to be awarded by NSF. The first grant, for ten thousand goes to the Institute for Research. A total of ninety research grants are awarded in the first year. Among the recipients is Max Delbruck."
The deep, booming round of applause blared from the audience.
"The second planning grants are given for the development of national radio and astronomical observatories."
Both Howard and Rajesh gave a slight bow in honor, bathing in the shower of bravos and whistling.
"In addition, the news have spread: American Telegraph and the British Post Office corporations sponsored operation of the first transatlantic cable line to be used for telephone communication. It is in our hands that we market a radio beep pager to the Aircall Corporation of New York. Here in Caltech, we will achieve better performance and results!"
"Hear, hear!" The voices cried from the crowd of male scientists with approbation.
"Lastly, for our greatest news in this special assembly," Dr. Gablehauser spoke, "we are gifted to have another brilliant mind to collaborate their work with us starting this week."
With that, the three men beside Dr. Cooper almost rose up in their seats to get a clearer view.
"Glendale's celebrated scientist in neurobiology…"
His companions sat on the edge of their seats as if there was an non-existent, illusory drum rolls.
"Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler, everyone!"
The encore of cheers took off, and on the center of the rostrum, a woman appeared up the steps. The lady with the chestnut hair, the glowing smile, and the complacent, audacious demeanor.
The chatting and side conversations died down when the young lady met Gablehauser in the middle of the amphitheater and kindly shook his hand.
The auditorium was dark, bleak, and uninviting, but when the lights came on, all eyes were on her. Everyone's heads were turned in the direction of the woman—their new asset—in the middle of the theatre, mindful of their unusual addition to the team.
"You don't say," said Leonard after finally seeing the new employee, noticing that she too wore glasses. "A neuroscientist in our department?"
Howard whispered to Rajesh, "Eh, not sculpted like an Aphrodite. Rather commonly if I must think so myself."
Meanwhile, Dr. Cooper did not say a word.
Amy unknowingly moved about on the platform, oblivious to the eyes of the tall man across from the room.
Her presence filled the auditorium, partially his vision. Without understanding what he was doing, he drank in the sight of her. Something about Dr. Fowler felt different today. A change of mood was instilled in him from viewing the business-like charisma and magnetism she upheld, giving her a certain period look about her. The distracted lady wore a wonderful gingham bell sleeve blouse and a checkered A-line skirt suit– tailored, crisp, and structured. Navy and camels were popular, in which the colors of her attire demonstrated.
He was blown from her professional, smartly dressed apparel and her choice of coat completed an ensemble, bestowing the formal silhouette look. A European styled suit with radiating tucks on the jacket by the House of Paquin.
Their age and time demanded a woman's waist to be small. Not naturally endowed with a figure eight, Amy was, however, noncompliant to girdles, waist cinchers, and body shapers to provide this desired hourglass shape.
Yet from 75 seats away, approximately 125 meters, her clothing did not hide her distinct hip lines; even this "pretty in brown" accentuates the bust and waist to advantage.
He had never been a man who, when glancing at a woman, looked first at the face, and then at the waist (those shallow curves that so signalled youth and vitality), and then thirdly at the hair, assessing in an instant its gloss and length. He knew that there were men for whom the reverse was true or men whose eyes fixed inevitably upon the bodice of a dress and then hope for a glimpse of a calf, but on that day, he was incapable of parsing the woman in question in such a calculated manner simply because he was too riveted by the whole.
"It is a privilege to have my resources, energy, and focus transferred to this university. In honesty, I am inclined to think that the effect of the prize on science in the large is indirect; its influence on the public's image of science probably counts for more than its function for scientific accomplishment. Thus, our hard work is always worthy of public admiration and public support." The young woman said with zeal and vigor behind the electro-voice microphone. There was about her a quality of stillness that was undeniably arresting.
"I may obtain the body of a feeble woman; but I have the heart and stomach like every one of you."
It occurred to him that she was no foreigner to the headlines of "Sexism and Science" in newspapers that were currently on the run: the hogus bogus about Rosalind Franklin's issue. They all knew that her studies of DNA were a key factor in determining its structure. However, there was a proposition that her colleague, Maurice H. F. Wilkins, reportedly resented Franklin. Allegedly without her permission, he gave her research findings to James D. Watson and Francis H. C. Crick.
Their behavior was cavalier, to say the least, but there was no evidence that it was driven by sexist disdain. To Dr. Cooper, it seemed more of an individual's contempt and loathing.
With strength and an aura of ardor, she struck the people in the auditorium by her vivacity and charm. "As a true host to the nature of science, I refuse to take any less work, if not more, from those of you. I refuse to take the lesser load and deal with areas of minor importance. I have as much muscle as any man, and can do as much work as any man. I have plowed and reaped and husked and chopped and mowed, and is there a thing otherwise?"
Her speech beguiled him in every fiber of his being. His whole being was left in utmost awe.
How was it that this power in her speech just shook the physicist on his chair, and slipped it off from his very buttocks?
Had he never heard a woman say words with such gallantry. Her courageous pose was similar to a lioness– gutsy, unflinching, and even heroic.
'If there is one message that echoes forth from this conference, let it be that we shall break the barriers of both natural and social worlds, doing what we do best in the name of science." It was now almost like a melody in his ears. When did her voice sound beautiful?
Shaking his head in a comical manner (as if the motion would help him snap out of his idiosyncrasies), Dr. Cooper was instantly met with a blast of deafening cheer and the thunderous standing ovation from the seats behind, on the sides, and in front of him.
This was getting rather frightening.
For a moment, he had not heard a single thing other than the source of the angelic song on the stage. Whatever this was, it felt like a parasite taking over his brain. Although, he did not panic. There was nothing the physicist could not handle– every virus or illness he retained over the years was effortlessly eradicated, this soon to be one of them.
Rajesh, craned around Dr. Cooper to get a good look at the female scientist and said, "What was that?"
"That was inexplicably shocking," chisel in Leonard.
Howard was by the edge of his seat, "Who knew that Dr. Fowler was an elite, silver-tongued rhetorician."
One by one, the board of directors rose from their chairs to gather around her and salute the young woman, pervading his glimpse of her. The crowd of men flocked her in a similar manner of vultures swooping down on their prey, or even in an identical fashion of worshiping their beacon of salvation.
"Where are you going?" Leonard asked, watching the tall man hauling himself back on his feet.
"To find sanctuary… from all this racket, that is." The physicist replied, picking up his legs to head towards the back door of the bustling amphitheater.
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It was just what Edward E. Cummings had quoted: Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you're a lot of other people. But the moment you feel, you're nobody-but-yourself. To be 'nobody-but yourself' in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody else; means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight.
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It had been an excellent congregation, and Amy was proud.
Everything went in accordance to how she pictured it.
No faults, no errors, no miscues.
Looking down at her hand, she remembered dusting them off. Every rough virile, brawny, hand shook hers that day.
Except his.
Like a forbidden musing, she flashed back to his supple wrist to his palm and pinkish red knuckles then down to the slender of his fingers and its tips. For a gangling large man, they were at least a few inches bigger than hers. The pale hands that were loosely hanging on the sides of his body. None that wanted to take her hand. None that accepted hers.
Were they warm? Or were they cold – like their owner? How would they feel?
A clicking of high-heels brought her to being conscious of her surroundings in the hallway as she spotted an old woman passing by with a child-like smile. "Hello madam– Sweet Mary and Joseph!" The yelp reverberated from the senior, once she saw the face of the young lady.
Amy closed her eyes shut in fear that her heart had almost dropped from the rapid screech, laying her hand on her chest.
"I didn't mean to frighten you, dear child." The missus contended, open-eyed, her wrinkled hands on her face.
"It is quite alright," Amy gently reassured her then reapproached with a smile, "We had not met, I'd like to formally introduce myself as Dr. Fowler."
It was not the reaction the scientist hoped for upon seeing the sheepish face of the woman in front of her. "I do know you! I have been one of those who stood by the entrance during the ceremony." Said the old dame.
"What a grace to have such an inspiring woman in this field of academia, I am Betty Willow."
To have caused the misunderstanding with Dr. Cooper was utterly doltish and mindless of her! It was not until she had rechecked with her superiors that she found out. After seeing the employee, it was difficult for her to feign her professionalism.
Oh, pray not that she'd make the same ill-advised surmise again.
The neuroscientist looked at her innocently in question as Mrs. Willow was scrambling past her. "It is indeed wonderful to meet you in person, now you must excuse me– I've got papers to deliver!"
"Hold on," Amy exclaimed, outstretching her hands in front. "I am brought here to pick up a key for my study, do you by any chance know where I should be looking?"
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He chose and printed a well-organized and comprehensive questionnaire along with a preferences checklist. There were questions and a helpful rating scale too, and he was at tranquility in dutifully typewriting the sanction of making the university a 'better place.' In his definition, it was to eliminate some studies like Spanish literature. The man himself was fluent in six languages–Spanish, French, Latin, Italian, German and so forth— seven if his own native mother-tongue was included. Their campus may have been known for its most strenuous and grueling disciplines in liberal arts, however, on Dr. Cooper's part, he found the small misspelling by a professor from one of the test papers as outrageous.
Language, in this circumstance was given a set of guidelines that stated it must be productive, had the ability to produce an infinite amount of sentences that covered every available topic and related symbols. It was defined as a way of communicating through vocalizations, symbols, or movements. Ergo, it being needed due to every language possessing a unique dialect that slightly varied from others. Despite his negligence for the specific field, it was disgraceful to feed students the imprecise teachings of any kind. Especially when it came to using this literary device to communicate the world of physics.
Ping! The characteristic clacking sounded from the metal bar being hammered against the carriage when the keys were pressed.
Pleased with his choice, Dr. Cooper snatched the paper from the front of the carriage lever and folded the form at perfect right angles. He put them in his pocket. No need to leave such things lying around.
The murmuring of discussion outside his office evoked his attention. Sauntering to the aisle, he was met with his three peers inside Dr. Hofstadter's office, going on nonstop about the symposium that early day. The fellows were lost in their own universe, dissecting their opinions as if their research topic was now called, "The Amy Fowler Case." Perhaps they did not digest that Dr. Cooper was towering over them.
"She is unique. Not entirely gorgeous, like the dolls in every corner of the street. But yes, unique."
"But you have to confess that she is admirable for her stand in partaking the gritty portion."
"Well, whatever it is that she has to offer, I find my respect for her."
Despite their high professions, the men were now in that headspace of being teenagers again. Or probably undergraduates in college, because even then, they had no luck with women.
If Dr. Cooper had to be honest, he was getting aggravated by the name of the neuroscientist upon their lips. For a reason he did not know. Was it that he disliked her label? Or because, perhaps, from his left and right, he'd hear men conversing about the lady in such a highly manner.
No, it could not be. It was impractical for the physicist to have this feeling.
"Dr. Fowler is a true diamond in the rough, I'd say," Leonard swallowed down his coffee. "We shall make use of her expertise."
"Aye, Dr. Cooper!" Raj began, the three pairs of eyes now directing at the tall man in their midst. "You're out here to startle us? Come, give us your share for today's ceremony."
Indeed, he was getting tired of this messy, disordered shift in their paradigm. He had not seen the neuroscientist since the week before, yet she was, emphatically, everywhere.
"I could not care to shape an opinion for this kind of subject," was all Dr. Cooper answered, yet his lingering body said something otherwise.
"Oh, are you?" Howard said with that daffy smile of his.
"Wipe the grin off your face."
Their bespectacled co-worker tilted his head. He was not sure, but from all his years of companionship with the theoretical physicist, he detected that there was something off with his dark-haired friend. Perchance, he could simply be imagining things.
Dr. Cooper was really clueless in social statutes, after all. So what was there to think of?
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Knock, knock. "Hello? Is anyone there?"
The door swung open, leading the woman to a vacant study.
It was an understatement if Amy said she was caught by surprise. Like Alice, from one of her favorite children's tale Alice In Wonderland, she felt like she was discovering the hidden secrets of the intstitute. Instead of a tumble down the rabbit hole, she found herself an exquisite room of far distance from the rest of the other rooms. In this absurd world of Wonderland. She laughed mentally to herself. Instead of chasing after a talking rabbit, Amy was sure searching for her key.
The books were all organized by consecutive lettering and all the papers were kept in neat piles. There was an ash-gray desk with a noir chair in the center, two bookshelves on the sides, a coat hanger slash hat stand, and an orange glow from the blaze of a candle filling the entire study.
She sniffed the air. Ah, it was a scented candle. The fragrance of pumpkin nutmeg pie flowing through her nostrils. It smelled heavenly.
As mind-bending as it is delightful, the toasty office somehow gave her a sense of coziness, sheltering her in a dulcet, mellow, and homely spirit. Embracing her in its chambré center of its heart.
Alright, where did Mrs. Willow say it was?
But then a sight of writings on the wall caught her side eye. Turning around, she walked towards it. "Quantum mechanics." She read aloud, her finger tracing the scribbled joint-letters on the concrete surface.
Seeing that the next words were being covered by the drapes, she pulled back the curtains a little bit to reveal a vast drawing of equations and numerical signs in front of her eyes.
The whole space was littered with maps connecting words and numbers together.
When any common individual perceived this mountain of sketches, it was hardly impossible for a single person to overlook this ostensibly piece of artwork.
The biologist, herself, felt the air knock off from her lungs. It was immensely breathtaking. It was almost funny for her to inspect the wall, taking a step back as if she was in an art gallery. Sculpting figures with the numerous symbols of planck's constant, wave function, hamiltonian, other letter components with divisions of angular momentum.
Whoever did such work… the executor was a genius. The dexterity of the nimble-fingered individual was incredibly staggering.
"Energy quanta.. black-body radiation.. positrons.." Then a blinding glimmer reflected her view. From the sunlight being bounced from the metallic top label of a textbook, it shines brightly through her spectacles.
Patting her bum to smooth her long skirt down, Amy crouched down to her knees to pick up the matter left on the floor.
Perhaps it had fallen down or knocked off.
A piece of paper was sticking up from one of its pages. She wouldn't have slid it out if it functioned as a bookmark, though it did not appear to be.
Her fingers presented before her the paper which seemed to be an extension from the work on the panel. Then there was something. Her eyes bolted to the sketch on the wall then down to the paper, and again back to the wall. A flash of an unspecified substance was stuck in her mind. Alas, there it was. A revelation had occurred in the biologist's mind.
"Poor fellow.. he must've been stuck till this point." Amy spoke, tapping a fingertip on the paper. It made sense for the discontinued calculations as she discovered the small misreading. Small, however, significant.
The 2.91828 differed by the tenths digit compared with the form on the wall.
She took a pencil from the pen holder on the desk, bringing the eraser edge on the error.
"Two point seven, one eight, two.. eight." The scribbling of the lead resonated as Amy followed the numbering on the wall and copied it down with the right answer on the sheet. From her previous year of knowing this one co-worker back in her old job, she somehow remembered this value.
Setting the pencil back down, she walked to the center of the room, looking back as she revised the two materials before her. There. That seemed much better. A smile adorned her face.
A tiny flaw that could not be fixed.
Amy figured that she could have waited for the individual to come back so she could explain the error. But she was on the hunt for something, and she was afraid that she might forget.
Hopefully, her assistance will put an end to this physicist's torment.
Wait.
Physicist.
Turning her neck in an uncanny perfect degree, her eyes met the nameplate that belonged to the name she was so dreadfully hoping she would not see.
It was as if fate was playing a nasty trick on her, if she did believe in such a thing.
"Why are you here?" The oh-so-familiar-tone questioned from above her head.
She screamed, almost dropping the materials she held in the palm of her hands.
The loud shrill elicited a dodging mechanism from the dark-haired man as he stared at her wide-eyed. Diving down, Dr. Cooper met her gaze at her eye level.
"Dr. Fowler, if I must reiterate the jurisdiction of the institute, the average sound cannot be higher than 60 decibels, let alone a howl, screech, shriek, or wail in any kind."
"Gracious, you are not here to give me a heart attack, are you?" She croaked, hugging the textbook close to her throbbing heart.
He did not reply, eyes darting to the book cradled in her arms.
"What are you doing here?" He asked, reforming his inquiry and his chin lifting higher than she thought possible.
She quickly answered, walking backwards as the man slowly closed in on her,
"I happened to find my way here with the help of a lady by the name of Mrs. Willow,"
Mrs. Willow? He blinked.
"You broke the second rule."
"Pardon me?"
"My rules. Our agreement."
He shook his head. This woman could not have forgotten this extremely important detail.
Amy remembered it all too well. From the moment she had seen to whom the room belonged to, a myriad of groaning had trailed.
Before he said another word, she flailed an arm. "I was told that I will find the key to my office here!"
Dr. Cooper stayed in his position, tilting his chin low from his elevated height. Amy, on the other hand, was forced to shuffle close to his desk, her tailbone pressing on the surface of the wood. Her chin was raised to meet his daring gaze.
"Be that as it may, I would not have come here if I had known this study belonged to you." She stated strongly.
Surprisingly, he did not continue in his reprehension as well another step. For he knew the distance he shall not pass beyond, both figuratively and literally.
Leaving the area in which she stood (or perhaps almost laying), he silently circumvented to one of his shelves. Opening a box and producing a few rattling noises of other keys, he took out a curved skeleton key.
Retaking her landing, she awkwardly stretched her arm for the object.
Believing that he was ready to give it to her, Dr. Cooper lifted the key away from her hand.
"Ah, ah." He warned, turning the item in circular motions between his fingers.
"This is the only excuse in your contravening our verbal contract."
"I take your point." She said, dubiously.
"Fair enough." He handed her the key, if calling it so was right, dropping it on her awaiting palm.
Amy held a disheveled face as she honestly did not thought it to go better than expected. The woman was, however, unawared about his trust being in Mrs. Willow, and not in her.
Still not relenting in touching her hand? She thought as he had plopped the key into her hand, spurring her to almost drop it to the ground.
"Now," he said, standing by the door, "you shall leave. This instant."
Very kind of him.
"I gratefully shall." She replied effectively, picking up her feet to move past him.
"Dr. Fowler? Dr. Fowler! What a mighty surprise."
In unison, the two snapped their heads in the direction of the nasal voice.
Shutting the door with a rather hard thud, Dr. Cooper indirectly pushed her ahead and out of his doorway.
In a frantic, the man took a leap from her side while she tried her best to not fall face flat on the floor.
The sound of footsteps that belonged to a group stopped in front of them.
"Yes, it is her," a laugh came from the man with a grubby style of hair. "The name is Howard Wolowitz, mechanical engineer, if I may introduce myself to the Mademoiselle." He said in an exaggerated suave tone, winking at her.
"I, Rajesh Koothrappali, under the astrophysics department, give you my regards. And it is imperative that I shall address you with deference." The other man stated, uncoiling his hand for hers before immediately stuffing it in the pockets of his trousers, seeing that she was busy collecting herself.
The man in the middle—with small eyes, thick specs, altogether with thick eyebrows—in turned introduced himself, "Let me excuse Mr. Wolowitz's behavior." His sentence opener received an annoyed look from the engineer. "I am the university's experimental scientist, Leonard Hofstadter, in your service."
Dr. Cooper frowned. Oh boy.
"How do you do, gentlemen."
Amy addressed them with each of their names along with a bow and a sweet smile, extracting from them their wonderstruck faces.
"Neurology? I've got to say that that is an exceedingly adroit study! To have read some of your previous works, I must say that I am mighty impressed with your skills." Leonard said, his hands in its habitual place, clasped in front and twiddling about.
"So.. you work with primates?" Howard pondered, "Very compelling. Could you tell us more of this again at our next meeting?"
Leonard and Amy agreed, missing the sly innuendo made by the engineer while Rajesh, who apparently shared the same synapses with the other man, gave a silent laugh behind them.
While they were engrossed in their small conversation, the theoretical physicist could not help but glance down at Amelia.
Another thing he had noticed about her; her manners were so different from other young ladies, holding her head down with modesty and virtue.
It was an intriguing spectacle. How a woman can have such duality- a vigor like a leader onstage, then switched into a gentle Lily, representing purity and fertility. The sweet and innocent beauty associated with love and devotion.
Keeping her chin low, she slowly raised her eyes to unexpectedly meet his blue, distracted eyes.
Immediately he averted his gaze, looking in the other direction.
Observation: She is copying his motions.
Conclusions: undetermined.
"You are most welcome to see some of my research I have published, Madame. I have made up the most essential points of our ongoing Federal Funding and Planetary case study." Mr. Wolowitz proudly declared.
"Hey, I've made contributions too!" A whine from Rajesh. "In actuality, it is my name that is written first on the page, because I led the investigation."
After inconveniently witnessing the cumbersome sidetalk between the two men, Amy retract their consciousness to her uneasy occupancy.
"Well, I have some things to settle with, so if you may kindly pardon me." She excused herself, trying to slip through the scientists.
"What is that you have there?" The change in tenor from the quiet physicist brought them to turn heads.
Amy blinked, then she looked down at her hands. One was holding the key, the other.. well.. as far as she can see.. it was still attached to the age-old textbook.
"Ah, this?" She repeated, anxiously.
"How inelegant am I. I absentmindedly took this book from off the floor, like my! What was such a pretty thing doing there?"
Dr. Cooper narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Of course. She thought. He did not buy it. It was only right for her to come clean.
"Sir, uhm," she said, evoking a raised brow from him. The physicist waited for her. She's holding Quantum Theory of the Electron– one of Dirac's publications. The tall man thought with amusement. She was getting more interesting and interesting.
"I realize that this belongs to you." The neuroscientist began, laying the article on his dumbfounded hands, back safely with its owner. Their colleagues gawked at them, moving away as if to give room for the two.
"Earlier.. when I sought myself in your study, there appears to be a misreading on one of your sketches on the wall."
Just then, a broken glass sounded from within him.
"I sensed that it would be more preferable to inform the owner, but I knew it wouldn't be possible for me. And I could not bear to leave it in this way."
Another shattered glass.
If having the guts in rattling off and pointing out his so-called 'misconduct' is a blow, then telling the perfectionist and brazen, self-opinionated man that you had touched his materials is another terrible, whole other matter.
She watched as his lips screwed tight and his jaws clenched.
"You what," Dr. Cooper said. Amy bit her lip, not sure what to answer.
"D-Did you say that you touched.. touched my work?" His voice was incredulous now.
"I... did?"
Limbs shaking all over, the man ran towards his office, disappearing behind the door. Then they all heard the loudest groan manageable.
The tall physicist emerged from the room, almost fuming through his ears.
"Dr. Fowler," he snarled with menace.
"I do not lie when I say that the notion of this study being yours, I have not known!" Amy insisted, her hands now clasped in front of her dress like a guilty puppy.
"Is it now?" He could feel incipient rage building up.
"It's true! If I must rencounter, I have only corrected a tiny error on your sketch with the help of the book!"
He was enlivened. She daresay so? This woman really knew how to tarnish his pride.
"And perhaps you ruined my perfectly planned-out calculations?"
Squinting at him, Amy returned a snarky comeback. "You're being presumptuous, don't you think?"
Taking the paper, he crumpled it in his hand and left an effect of the crunching sound tearing down the hallway. "I don't agree with this kind of assistance.. or any kind from you. Don't meddle with my work." Dr. Cooper declared.
Now the neuroscientist made a valiant effort to hold her own anger in check.
"You should be thankful, pal. She may have relieved the headache part for this week." Dr. Leonard tried, attempting to placate his peer. Meanwhile, other two men were awkwardly standing between them, darting their eyes back and forth towards the reflecting bullets whizzing by them.
The experimental physicist wanted to melt right there and then. Not a single time goes by without his friend making new enemies.
"Your intervention could not be less apt." They all heard the tall man say. This was going really really bad. A new, lovely employee and everything they had hoped for a peaceful everyday humdrum had fallen down the gutter.
But instead of turning away, humphing loudly, carrying their shoes in loud stomps, and promising themselves that they'll never set foot in this university, she blew their minds by doing just the opposite.
She advanced towards the ranting man, marching straight to where he stood.
"I disagree with you, Dr. Cooper."
A smiling scoff took place. "Dr. Fowler, it is not your place to disagree with me or not—"
Then he noticed that she was inching nearer to him. His nose flared, "You stay away from me."
But before the last word came out, she stopped her movements. "It was my fault for thinking I could change the flaw of a physicist's work. This will be the last time you will hear from me, Doctor." She said, her voice now tender.
He blinked, feeling a log in his throat.
Now turning her back to him, Amy gingerly smoothed the surface of the key with her fingertips.
Warm. It was warmth that she felt when he gave her that key. This had broken her assumption that cold hands would belong to a fellow like him.
"This.. this.." he stuttered.
Like the grand curtain finale, she captivatingly closed, "Yet it is only right for me to tell you that… it is the energy E of the quantum which is related to the frequency ν."
Dr. Cooper's body went rigid. She had given him the hint of his wrongful oversight. But of course… Euler's numerical constant 'e' is 2.718281828459045…. not 2.918 and–
Curses. Apart from writings on the wall, he had rewritten the silly value wrong on his paper.
Simultaneously, Dr. Hofstadter, Dr. Koothrappali, and Mr. Wolowitz was stupefied. Did they just witness a young woman, and different field scientist in fact, confronting him single-handedly?
The woman left. Now nowhere to be seen.
Dr. Cooper made up his mind to go back to his study, abandoning the gaping trio. Seeing that his curtain was pulled back from the view of his equations on the wall, he reopened the page of his textbook. Huh. She had already bookmarked it for him.
Then he reevaluated them. He looked and looked, and behold.. he could finally see it.
To think that Dr. Fowler could not be more formidable, he could never be proven more wrong.
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.
.
"Don't take it personally. He is like this with everyone he knows. Not to mention, everyone he meets no less," the genial dumpy, experimental scientist had consoled her that later day.
"Think nothing of it, I am sure I understand." The brunette had replied. I am alright.
She had always been.
After all, there were always things that would bother her. And she would bother them. Unfortunately, she had realized she could never please everyone. The guilt and pain she had mustered over the years for that.. had now gone away. It was a sad thing. Even with her acquired PhD, her academic prowess, and strong finesse.. she had not reached farther where she had hoped for. Emptiness still made its way to her child-like, exuberant heart. Her mother perhaps was right; Amy was in search of something she was no longer sure of. The happiness that had always been out of her reach.
She thought back on their first meeting in her empty office:
"I don't like you."
"Well then it's mutual."
That change of her behavior in the corridor that time, her response with that man, she had now known better.
Many people had coincided with the man, acquiescing to his calls, however, there was a cycle of their antagonism towards him. Amy had heard the people of Caltech whisper to her, "don't consort with the likes of him," "interfering his turn in the game would be a wrong move," "word of advice, make sure to keep a safe distance," and plenty more. However, even so, she had been standing firm on her feet and going head to head with him. Despite all his straightforward words and obvious attitude, she had no true ill thoughts of him. No bad intentions. Nor hatred of any sort.
They had seen his outer shell– rough, hard, belligerent, brittle, and pugnacious it may be. Though, it was possible that they were missing something inside it. Underneath may be a whole different story that they all dismissed. There was a feeling, but for now, she did not know what it was.
But in the back of her mind, she can't deny that she had a weird connection with him. They were so so different… yet so similar. In their work ethics, their goal-driven virtue, and their views on the world.
Perhaps it is because none of them had tried what she now chose to do. What she was going to do. From now on, Amy will hold onto what she believed in. And that was to carry the forbearance for the co-worker she'd have to pass by everyday.
Tolerance for him? Let her change it to uncomplaining consideration.
If there was one good thing that merciless life had taught her, it was patience and understanding.
There were still so many unanswered questions about Dr. Cooper. He was a total enigma, and that only added to his allure.
Who knows? With a little crack on the surface, she might look in and see the little boy who wanted the world to be on his side… like she once had.
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"You're simply jealous of her, is that what it is?" Howard laughed behind his sandwich. "Resentful that she is stealing all the attention from the award-winner."
The entire canteen where they sat was lively and filled with bustling staff. The smell of spaghetti and buttered-salmon filled the air from the kitchen, bringing in mouth-watering workers from their stations across the vestibule.
The dark-haired man's jaw twitched from that single word.
No way that the prized laureate of their faculty envies.
"What you imply is merely impossible," replied the physicist, separating his salad from the meatballs. "According to the subsection of nomination rules and selection processes, I was chosen from a very structured form: by the Swedish and foreign members of the Royal Academy of Sciences; members of the Nobel Committee; tenured professors from six different countries in europe; and lastly, holders of corresponding chairs in at least six university. Tell me, is it possible for me to act on the feeling of being jaundiced?"
"Hmm.. let me run that through.. a bitter, sour, cynical, pretentious and distorted alien-like show off? I guess I'm wrong." The engineer lifted his hands in the air.
"Oh, give me that!" Their companion said, snatching back his stolen apple from Howard. Then he took out his own meal and settled down his tray.
On a serious note, Leonard scooted his seat closer to their table. "Buddy, you cannot let yourself act like you had earlier. You cannot tear down a bubbly, kind soul, especially without trying to be more reasonable."
Reasonable? Dr. Cooper was the definition of reason. Why on earth would he say such a thing?
"How else would I act, Leonard? It was only a natural, biological response to be mad. Inside the human's brain, neurotransmitter chemicals—the catecholamines— are released as a burst of energy, if you will." The man replied, "You know how I strongly dislike the action of someone obtruding another one's work. Others may be more fine with it, like you, but I am not."
Before the other man could say another word, Donald (one of the chemist assistants) saluted them, passing by their table.
"Afternoon, fellas. Ah, it is good that you are here," the bald man said, looking at Dr. Cooper. "You've got orders to collaborate with the new employee."
In an instant, the tall man spat out a meatball. The harsh action sent it flying across the table, earning a disgusted shriek from Howard and a knowing look from Leonard.
Trying his best to remain composure and take control of the situation, he wiped his mouth and grunted his sentence, "I fail to meet you in this riveting notion of nonsense."
However, Donald gave him a lazy expression and a could-not-care-less shrug.
Oh no no no. The troubled physicist worried. A flash of Amy's sad smile appeared in his head. He did not want to see her so soon. Then his face winced. It was currently not the fact that he had despised her so, but.. perhaps the biting guilt he felt in his bones after seeing her walk down the corridor. Her shadows being replaced by the dimmed and void halls and lack of sunlight.
At all costs, Dr. Cooper was not going to face her. Not yet.
Before he could grasp on the situation entirely, his tongue ran loose.
"Absolutely not. I have no desire to associate myself with the likes of her." His eyes widened. It was like a self-defense mechanism. An inherent response that he may have perfected and developed over the course of his life.
Her and I are at odds.
Graciously spotting the familiar dirty blonde hair and the horrendous red necktie on two tables away across the cafeteria, Dr. Cooper virtually scrambled towards the individual. "Mr. Greene– excuse me sir!" He hollered, almost grabbing the entire canteen's attention.
The fellow turned to the noise and waved a hand. "Why yes?"
"I do not have the desire to work with Dr. Fowler in any kind. Thus, there is an absence of one partner in this agreement." The physicist stated, swallowing down whatever thing that was coming out of his throat.
This brought a quizzical look from the older man. "Sorry, Doctor, but from your bosses, I believe you have no say in this matter."
Absolute madness.
"Look," Mr. Greene continued, "With your brilliance and her style of work combined, you'd both be unstoppable!"
"But I refuse to work with anyone else." Dr. Cooper interposed. "She does not understand my field if she does not have prior experience, ergo we must call this ridiculous thing off."
"It is not your job to qualify her!"
"Well, she could not be tasked with such responsibility." At this point, it sounded like he was trying to make excuses. Because if he learnt something, Dr. Fowler was no ordinary scientist.
"You are entitled to do what the university asks of you. See you again, Cooper."
He gaped in disbelief.
The mere thought of being in one area with her made his heart leap.
From all the years he had worked alone, what is it about her that is so special?
What is it about her that is so particular that made him quiver?
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You were talking loud,
I was waiting for a noise complaint.
You just gave the look,
I must have said something you hate~
And now you wanna argue,
You wanna tell me everything that's wrong
But I'm so distracted,
'Cause they're playing my favorite song.
If you just shut that pretty mouth,
We'll forget what the fight's about~
Come on, just let me turn you out,
With human contact.
—Catey Shaw.
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AN: [Muah and kisses to Jamylle for enlightening me with this cute song that reminds me of them! When I had thought the last chapter was long, I cannot believe I had written this piece in a span of a busy weekend with a minor headache haha. Now I see that you are looking at the cover of my story. Why, you guess right. It is none other than Dr. Fowler's key to her office– however, it holds another meaning on its own. By the way, do we see Mrs. Willow taking the role of a fairy godmother?]