Title: The Railroad Recalibration (5/9)
Author: phantagrae
Rating: R
Summary: My idea of how Sheldon's train journey might have gone. A million thanks to my super beta, FoxPhile!
Feedback: Yes, please. phantagrae@earthlink.net
Author's Notes: A million thanks to my super beta, FoxPhile!
Chapter Five
At the massive and beautiful Union Station Sheldon paused on the platform to take a picture of the City of New Orleans, idling on the track, waiting to receive him. The only thing that would have made him happier was if Amy had been with him. He wanted to tell her everything he knew about this train. And all trains. As he settled in his roomette, he placed his nightly call to Amy.
"Hello, Sheldon," she answered after the first ring. "How are you?"
"Hello, Amy," he replied. "I'm fine. I'm on the storied 'City of New Orleans' train, getting ready to pull out of Chicago."
"Are you going to New Orleans?" she asked.
"Did you know," Sheldon began, ignoring her question, "that folksinger Arlo Guthrie recorded the song by the same name, celebrating long-distance rail travel, back in 1972? This route covers 926 miles linking three of the most important music capitals in America—Chicago, Memphis, and New Orleans. I don't care for jazz or blues music, but these three cities are important to the development of these forms of music."
"That's nice," Amy interjected.
"And," he continued in a rush, "this route travels between the Great Lakes and the Gulf of Mexico, from the farmlands in Illinois, through the forests of Tennessee and Mississippi, to the bayous of Louisiana. And in the approach to New Orleans, we'll travel along the longest single railroad curve in the United States, extending over nine miles!"
"That's all lovely, Sheldon," Amy responded a little impatiently. "But I was wondering how your interviews went today. Did they offer you a position?"
"No, not really," Sheldon replied, feeling a little deflated at the change of subject. "But both gentlemen seemed to be open to the idea."
"Would you really move to Chicago if they offered you a job there?" Amy asked quietly.
"What would you do in my situation, Amy?" Sheldon asked defensively. "If CalTech or UCLA wouldn't let you continue in the type of research you wanted to do, wouldn't you go somewhere else?"
"Perhaps," she said. "But if you leave…well…what about…us?"
Sheldon's palms were suddenly clammy and he gripped the phone more tightly.
"I guess…I guess I'd want…you to…come with me," Sheldon said tentatively.
She was quiet for a moment.
"But what about my work?" she asked at last.
"Amy…" he began with a sigh. "I don't know. I just know that I want to be able to do the work I was born to do. I don't want to waste my genius on a dead end field of study."
"And what about my field of study?"
"Well, wouldn't you be able to study neurobiology anywhere?"
"Sheldon, I would be dependent upon available grant money, openings available in a department and ongoing studies, just like you would be."
"But I…I want…" He could feel the color rising in his cheeks. He finally took a deep breath just as the train began to move. He wasn't sure how long he'd have a good connection.
"Can we talk about something else right now?" he went on.
"Okay," she agreed with a sigh.
"Well, what did you do today?" he began a bit more brightly.
"Oh, the usual," she replied breezily. "I studied the reactions of my monkeys to various stimuli. I ate lunch with Raj, Howard, and Leonard."
"What are you having for dinner tonight?" He was smiling as he pictured her in her lab coat and now at home in her apartment.
"I'm meeting Emily for dinner tonight," Amy went on. "Raj has to put in some time on one of the big telescopes and Howard and Bernadette are having dinner with her parents, and Leonard and Penny are doing some wedding planning. So Emily and I were at loose ends and decided to get a bite and then go to a lecture."
"That sounds…nice," Sheldon said. "Um…what is the lecture about?" He wasn't exactly interested, since he didn't know much about Emily, but he just wanted the conversation to continue.
"It's about Chaucer and other early English writers," Amy enthused. "As a matter of fact, I need to get going soon," she continued, her voice losing some of its brightness.
"Oh…" Sheldon replied reluctantly. "I guess I should let you go…"
"Um, yes, I guess so," she said. "So are you going to stay in New Orleans at all?" she began again, continuing the conversation anyway.
"Yes," Sheldon answered, happy that she wasn't yet hanging up. "My next connection doesn't leave New Orleans until Saturday morning, so I'll be spending a couple of nights there."
"That could be fun, Sheldon," she said. "There are lots of interesting restaurants, the French Quarter…"
"Oh, I don't know about that," Sheldon interrupted. "But I'll do some research online and find some way to amuse myself. Stuart mentioned a local comic book store there that he liked."
"Really, Sheldon?" she teased. "You're going to spend two nights in New Orleans and the only thing you're interested in is comic books?"
"Now, Amy," Sheldon chided, "How could you be surprised at that?" He smiled at her low chuckle.
"Sheldon," Amy said more seriously, "I really do have to go now."
"Yeah," he replied. "I guess you do."
"Have a nice trip," she said sincerely. "And go have some fun in The Big Easy. You know, 'Laissez les bons temps rouler'."
"Let the good times roll?" he chided. "Really, Amy? Are you suggesting I go out and get drunk, go to a strip show, go live it up?"
"No, Sheldon," she laughed. "Just don't be afraid to do something a little different while you're there."
"We'll see," he replied.
"Okay, Sheldon," she said. "I really do have to go. Goodnight!"
"Enjoy your lecture," he said quietly. "Goodnight, Amy."
He ended the call quickly, fighting the lump that suddenly formed in his throat.
He called for the room attendant to prepare his room for the night while he distracted himself with brushing his teeth and getting ready for bed.
As the morning light streamed into his room, he rolled over in bed to shield his eyes. He didn't feel like getting up. The change in motion as the train pulled into the station at Memphis had roused him from sleep, but it was only six-thirty. While he was normally an early-riser, he was still a little upset after last night's conversation with Amy. He buried his face in his pillow and went back to sleep.
He finally had a late breakfast and then spent the day mulling over Amy's words.
Would he really be able to leave CalTech and start over in Chicago or Urbana? And what about Amy? Would she follow him? Would they break up under such circumstances?
Which thing would he be more willing to sacrifice—his career or his relationship?
At one point in his life he would never have had to make such a decision. He'd never had a friendship before that he wouldn't have been willing to leave behind for the sake of his work and his pursuit of a Nobel Prize.
But of all the things he was unsure of these days, there was one thing he was sure of. He wanted Amy in his life. It was bewildering to him to realize that he had somehow become so attached to one person.
Over the years, he had become best friends with Leonard and had come to depend on him for many things, including helping him better understand certain social conventions. If it hadn't been for his friendship with Leonard—and through him, Howard, Raj, Penny, and Bernadette—he would probably never have known how to be friends with Amy, and eventually, how to be her boyfriend. He was still learning.
But his relationship with Amy was so different from all his other friendships. He had never imagined that he could feel so connected to any one person; that her opinions and her approval could be so important to him.
He knew he wanted to keep her in his life, no matter where he ended up.
Before he knew it, it was mid-afternoon and the train was pulling into the station in New Orleans. Amy had encouraged him to "let the good times roll" while he was here. Would he really be able to do that? By himself?
As Sheldon checked into his hotel, he asked the clerk to recommend a good restaurant. He had decided to take up Amy's suggestion. To a degree.
"Well, it depends, cher," the dark-haired woman began, a winking eye accompanying her Cajun accent.
"Depends on what?" Sheldon asked in confusion.
"Well, what kind of food do you want? Something fancy or something more down-home local?" She began to gather some brochures as she waited for Sheldon's reply.
"I'm not sure," he said at last. "How about both? I'll be spending two nights here. I might try a little of everything while I'm here."
"Okay," the clerk replied cheerfully. "These brochures give you the details on some of the finer restaurants in town—some here in the French Quarter, some a little further away. But I'm going to write down the name and number of a place I know. Right in the Quarter—good music, good food, good times. I highly recommend it!"
She gave him the note she'd written, accompanied by another smile and wink.
He frowned at her manner, not quite understanding her demeanor, but he took the brochures and the note and went upstairs.
He spent the afternoon exploring New Orleans via his laptop, then, armed with his formidable memory of all he had studied, he ventured out to find a place to eat. He had already planned his outings for tomorrow—comic book store, some kind of gift shop, a couple of museums and a couple of restaurants for lunch and dinner.
For now he stepped into a nice restaurant in the French Quarter. It was old-fashioned, decorated to evoke New Orleans' nineteenth-century past. Fortunately for Sheldon, the menu included a few familiar offerings and he settled for a plate of pasta. It wasn't typical of New Orleans, or of the south, necessarily, and it wasn't spaghetti with hotdogs, but it was still good.
As he ate, he looked around at the other patrons. Some seemed to be tourists, talking excitedly about being in the French Quarter, or about what new adventures they had planned. Others were obviously out on romantic dates—gazing into each other's eyes, drinking wine, holding hands, even kissing.
Sheldon blushed furiously as he suddenly remembered how he had kissed Amy on the train to Napa. He hadn't intended to kiss her. At least, not in the way that most people kiss. But what he had intended as mocking became something else the minute his lips touched hers. Even now, the thoughts and feelings from that night came flooding back and he had to take a deep breath.
He found that he liked kissing Amy—a lot—and he had quickly incorporated kissing into their monthly date nights. As a matter of fact, tonight was date night. This was the third Thursday in a month with five Thursdays.
He looked back at his dinner, beginning to get cold on his plate. He pushed it around with his fork for a moment, took one last bite, and washed it down with the last of his diet Coke. Maybe he could Skype with Amy tonight and have a long-distance date night. They couldn't kiss goodnight as their Relationship Agreement now specified, but he could at least see her face.
He paid his check and hurried back to the hotel.
In his room, he set up his laptop on the little table by the window, plugging it in to be sure he didn't run out of power in the middle of what he anticipated to be a nice long conversation with his girlfriend. Whether or not he would end up being happy with the circumstances back home remained to be seen, but his relationship with Amy made him happy. As long as she wasn't pushing to move in with him, or have sex. He still didn't feel ready for any of that, but otherwise he was happy.
He called her from his cell phone so he could tell her to open her laptop, but the phone rang several times with no answer. He pulled the phone away from his ear and scowled at it. Where would she be on their date night?
He reluctantly called Leonard instead.
"Hey, Sheldon!" Leonard began. "Good to hear from you, buddy! How are you? Where are you?"
"I'm in New Orleans and I'm fine," Sheldon replied impatiently. "Leonard, do you know where Amy is? She's not answering her phone."
"Yeah," Leonard said. "She and the girls just left for a girls' night. I think they're going out to eat and then out for drinks."
"What are you guys doing?" Sheldon asked reluctantly. He wasn't really interested, but hearing Leonard's voice did make him a little homesick.
"We're ordering a pizza and then we were going to watch some Babylon 5."
Sheldon scrunched his nose.
"Don't you guys care that the girls are going out without you?" he asked, remembering the night he had spent out with Amy, Penny, and Bernadette three years ago. He'd seen a new side to Amy that night. He had danced with her, which had pleased him more than he had ever let on. He'd never even told her how much he'd enjoyed it.
That was the first time Amy had kissed him.
"Sheldon, they need a little time on their own," Leonard reassured him. And we appreciate having time to do things the girls don't like—like watching a marathon of Babylon 5."
"Well…" Sheldon began, "I guess I'll let you get back to your sub-par science fiction viewing."
"Sheldon," Leonard began more seriously, "when are you coming home?"
"I'm not sure, Leonard," Sheldon replied sincerely, though in this moment, hearing Wolowitz and Koothrappali talking in the background, he wanted very much to be home. "I don't know."
"Well, okay," Leonard said quietly. "You take care of yourself. I'll let Amy know you called if I see her tonight. Leave her a message. I'm sure she just didn't hear her phone."
"Goodnight, Leonard," Sheldon said, quickly ending the call.
He tried Amy's phone again and this time it went directly to voice mail. He sighed and left a message.
"Hello, Amy," he began. "Since tonight is date night, I had hoped to Skype with you, but I understand that you're out tonight. Having fun, I presume. Try not to drink as much as Penny. One of you has to keep a clear head. Um…I know it's two hours earlier there, so when you get this message go ahead and call me back. I'll be up late. Um…I guess…um…goodnight, Amy."
He ended the call and put his phone down, rising to get a drink of water to ease the lump in his throat. Turning on the TV, he let some program he didn't care about drone on in the background to keep him company while he surfed the web and read more about New Orleans. Having grown up nearby in Galveston, he had some knowledge of New Orleans, but he'd never spent any time here, and he had a whole day to kill tomorrow.
He kept checking his watch, wondering what she might be doing.
What did she have for dinner?
Was she out drinking and dancing?
Had she not gotten his message yet?
Had she gotten the message, but just didn't want to speak to him?
Had he said something wrong during that conversation about taking a job in Chicago?
At some point he realized he had been asleep in front of his laptop, one finger pressing on the Z key, making an oddly appropriate string of Zs across the screen. The TV program had become an infomercial where two impossibly cheerful people were extolling the wonders of a particular brand of vacuum cleaner.
It was after two AM and Amy hadn't called.
He shut down his laptop and turned off the TV, and went to use the restroom and brush his teeth. He carried his phone with him as he moved about the room, just in case she called. It was just after midnight in California. She might still call.
At last he stripped down to his underwear and got in bed, taking one last look at his phone before turning off the lights. As he lay there, staring at the ceiling in the moonlight, he wondered what Amy was doing on their date night, remembering that night he'd danced with her, remembering that first fascinating kiss.
And the kiss on the train.
Heat suddenly flushed through his body and he concentrated his eidetic memory on all that he had felt in that one unexpected moment. His right hand moved along his body for a moment and he hesitated before reaching…down there. He fought the urge for a moment, but then gave in. He didn't often indulge in this sort of self-abuse, as he normally thought of it, but he wanted to tonight.
He thought about how much he had wanted to at least see Amy's face tonight. He wanted to hear her voice and her laugh. He wanted her to talk about science and monkeys and to make him think. He wanted her to stimulate his…his brain…his… He could no longer think clearly. He didn't want to think. He wanted…
He cried out as he climaxed, then lay panting and sweating under the covers. As his head cleared, he got out of bed and went about getting cleaned up. He was embarrassed, even though no one would ever know he'd done this. He would know. He would remember it the next time he looked at Amy. What if she were to call now? He'd be mortified.
When he had cleaned himself up and changed his underwear, he curled up on his side and fell quickly asleep.
Continued in Chapter Six