Author's Note:

Hello, everyone, and welcome to my last update for 2024 (it's still 2024 for me)!

I went back and forth on whether or not to post this. I feel like it didn't turn out how I wanted it to. But I wrote it and it seems like a waste not to share it, so here you go.

This one is based on that part in The Cohabitation Experimentation where Sheldon mentions Amy let him buy "those shoes with the wheels on the bottom" and he rolled into traffic. I guess that sort of spoils what happens here, but hopefully you'll be amused anyway. As always, thanks to my beta reader Stark for helping out.

In other news, the reason I haven't updated in a while is because I've been working on a longer Shamy fic. I actually have about 8 chapters drafted so far. I'm not sure when I'll be ready to start posting that one, but hopefully in the near future because I'm excited. So keep an eye out for that, and follow me on tumblr fort-cozy-mcblanket for previews and updates! (And to be clear, this does not mean that my other chaptered fics are abandoned, I'll still work on those too.)

Have a happy new year! I'll see you again in 2025! Love you!

Heelys

"Gentlemen," Sheldon greeted the guys as he sat down at their table in the cafeteria. "Do you realize it took me six minutes to walk from my office to here?"

Leonard, Howard, and Raj all just stared at him.

"That's six minutes that I wasn't working on any groundbreaking research, and I'm going to have to take another six minutes to walk back to my office after this. And that's not even factoring in my mid-afternoon bathroom break later. Or all the precious seconds I waste walking from one side of my office to the other moving between whiteboards. Imagine how many strides I could make in my work if I could shave off even just a couple of those minutes."

More staring.

"I should have known better than to expect any of you to be able to imagine my work, especially you, Wolowitz," he continued. "But don't fear, because I've come up with a brilliant solution."

"You're going to . . . jog everywhere from now on?" Howard asked.

"Of course not. Then I would have to increase my shower frequency to remove the excess perspiration, it wouldn't make sense."

"So what are you going to do?" Raj joined the conversation.

"Why would you ask?" Leonard hissed at him.

"The average human walking speed is approximately three miles per hour," Sheldon explained after giving Raj a nod. "But as the Mesopotamiansdiscovered long ago, wheels make everything go faster."

"So, roller skates?" Howard guessed.

"Close."

"That's a terrible idea," Raj said.

"Well, hang on," Leonard quickly cut Raj off. "We might want to see that."

"It's not roller skates," Sheldon said. "And before you ask, it's not rollerblades either. Both rollerblades and roller skates have four wheels, totaling eight wheels per pair."

"We can do basic math, Sheldon."

"Then you know that's far too many. I might as well be strapping two cars to my feet. But I did some research, and did you know there is a brand of shoe that achieves the same effect with just one wheel placed strategically in each heel?"

The guys exchanged glances, but didn't comment. Sheldon was undeterred.

"I'm going to ask Amy to take me to the sporting goods store after our dinner date tonight."

"Oh, she's going to be thrilled," Howard said.

"I know!" Sheldon smiled.

Amy was thrilled.

It was so rare for anyone to want her opinion on any matters of fashion—not that she really blamed them when Penny was right there—so when Sheldon said he wanted her help shoe shopping after dinner, she jumped at the chance. After he directed her to a local sporting goods store, though, she started to question his motives.

"Sheldon, are you sure about this?" she asked after he explained what he was looking for.

"I've done the research, Amy. These shoes are going to add a minimum of forty-two productive minutes to my work week."

"Would you like to hear about the previous research I've done on concussions and how you'll lose a lot more than forty-two minutes managing the symptoms of a traumatic brain injury after you fall and crack that big head of yours on the sidewalk?"

"I see what you're doing," he said, a look of condescension forming on his face. "You're jealous that, thanks to my new shoes, I'll soon be swimming in grant money and Nobel Prizes, meanwhile your own work will never reach the same level. You're trying to sabotage me."

Amy narrowed her eyes, all further arguments dying in her throat. She was officially no longer thrilled.

"Come on, let's go in and find a pair in your size."

They entered the store and quickly found a sales associate to help them. The employee even gave them a quick demonstration while Sheldon was trying the shoes on. The whole time, Amy stayed silent, though she did wander over to a nearby rack for a helmet and some knee and elbow pads. She was mad at him, but that didn't mean she actually wanted to see him get hurt.

"Amy, come back, you have to help me up," Sheldon called out for her, clapping his hands sharply to hurry her along.

Well, at least not seriously hurt.

She took his hands and pulled him to his feet, and he rocked back on his heels so the wheels would work. The employee suggested she tow him around for a while to allow him to get his bearings, so she did.

If nothing else, I get an extended handholding session out of this, Amy thought.

"I think I'll wear them out, thank you," Sheldon said to the employee after they'd completed a couple circuits around the store. He had kept a death grip on Amy's hands the entire time. "Amy, pull me to the cash register."

Checking out proved to be difficult when Sheldon still didn't want to let go of her to get out his wallet, nor did he want her to reach into his pocket to get it for him, but somehow they managed it. Amy almost asked him again if he was really sure about this purchase, but she held her tongue. He'd already made it clear what he didn't want her advice, so it would be useless to point out how he was obviously not comfortable with the shoes or how there were much simpler ways to save time and increase productivity, such as cutting back on video game playtime during the week. He'd figure it out for himself eventually.

"Sheldon, you're going to have to let go so I can get my keys." It was the first thing she'd said to him since they'd left her car. He looked at her with wide eyes.

"Al-alright."

His grip loosened and she took her hands back to dig through her purse. Neither of them realized the parking lot was on an incline until it was too late. Amy was still trying to locate her keys in the bottom of her bag when Sheldon rolled away, right into the path of an oncoming car.

Sheldon and Amy ended that Date Night in the emergency room.

"Sheldon, this isn't necessary," she told him after he checked in. "The front bumper barely tapped you. There probably won't even be a bruise."

"I can't believe you let me buy those shoes," Sheldon said, settling down in one of the waiting room chairs. "How am I supposed to increase my productivity with a limp?"

Amy rolled her eyes and decided once again she might as well save her breath. Still, she sat down next to him.

"And now I can't even return them because they got scuffed in the crash."

"You could give them to someone else," she suggested.

"You know I despise gift giving," he scoffed. "And they would never fit on Leonard or Howard's teeny tiny feet. Or Raj's slightly more normal-sized feet."

"Save them for your nephew when he gets older?"

"Absolutely not. If nothing else, today just proves that no one from the Cooper bloodline has any business rolling around on wheels. Skates, blades, these heel monstrosities . . . I'm forbidding all of them."

Amy nodded. "Sure, sure."