"Gran Mag...”
Summary: Utterly for fun. Sheldon is in deep, deep trouble. From certain povs. When Amy's older sister blows. Into town. For Halloween and their engagement party.
Helps if you look up the wondrous Charlotte Gainsbourg. And one of the better pics of the equally wondrous Maggie Hamilton. (You might care to peek at the Sheldonverse page of the Buffy Rebecca verse for more, including the Granny Mag video)
Disclaimer: BBT is all Chuck's.
Part XII.
"Perfect.” Stuart pronounced. Eyeing me carefully.
I frowning. Not only I am reasonably certain my current costume is not within a greater than 95% degree of accuracy to the desired effect, so hardly "perfect", but I am in the rain.
It's wet. I don't like being wet. Except in the shower or the bathtub. And until recently when Amy Farrah Fowler demonstrated to me that there are other uses for the shower or bathtub than solo ablutions, I didn't care much for being wet in them either. And I am getting wetter, despite the homburg hat perched on my head and the overcoat I wear.
"Are you sure this will work, Stuart?..." I express my doubt aloud. "I'll only have one chance to contact Amy. And if this fails, she'll sound the hue and cry and I could be taken. With Charlotte ready to pounce.”
"I'll be here, ready to get you out quick.” Stuart points out. "And even if Amy doesn't get it right away, she'd have to wonder why you tried to reach her like this. It would sink in. But it won't have to, she loves the film, she'll get the message.”
"Well. She has expressed a fondness for Mr. Welles' performance and the film itself.”, I note cautiously. "But what if Charlotte catches me?..."
"We'll vamoose before she can call up the hounds and try again later. Though, Sheldon. I gotta ask you. Why can't you just tell Amy?...I know you say you're afraid she might have doubts once Charlotte makes her claims.”
"Charlotte isn't planning to claim I made eyes at her, you know.” I frown. "She's threatened to tell Amy I made advances. And she did acquire DNA samples when she grabbed me. And especially when she French-kissed me.”
My uvula and my elbow still hurt by the way.
Hmmn. Stuart frowning.
"Can we decide to do this or no?.” I ask. "You may be fine in the car but my risk of catching cold is rising exponentially.”
"Sheldon, is there anything else?..." he eyes me. The wisdom supplied by total immersion in comic books and film boring into me. "I've been willing to take what you've said about Charlotte on faith but. Is there some reason Amy might believe Charlotte?..."
"No.” carefully. "Of course not.” He, frowning at me.
Amy Farrah Fowler's beautiful large brown eyes staring into mine, tears accentuating their beauty. Amy's pleading, trusting voice. "You didn't have any response to Charlotte's incredible beauty and sensuality, right. Sheldon?...Not even a physiological increase in blood pressure or pulse?...Not the slightest.?"
"All right!..." I scream. Stuart jumping back in the car seat.
"Sheldon?..."
"I was attracted. She's attractive. Oh, Lord. Amy, forgive me!..." I howl. "But it was only the Fowler in her that made my engine one that could've. And I never responded fully!..Not past second gear. Oh, Amy, I swear.!"
"Sheldon.”
"Oh, Meemaw. Don't let me fail her. I love you, Amy Farrah Fowler!...Forgive me.!"
"Sheldon, if you keep this up, we will be caught. Quiet down!..." Stuart, hissing. Pulling me back into the car, reaching over to and slamming my door behind me.
I sigh. The truth out at last. And the truth shall make you free, so Meemaw said when she knew I'd lied about stealing a cookie and I was sad about it.
It did. And does.
"Sheldon. It's only natural.” Stuart, shrugging.”And I gotta say an amazing proof that you're actually human, by the way. That when a beautiful girl who's as pretty as Amy with a little extra packaging. Equipped with a little 'French razzle-dazzle'. Throws herself at you, you respond a little.”
"But I failed Amy Farrah Fowler, Stuart. How can I face her knowing I've had. Feelings. For another woman. Her mortal enemy, and even if she won't admit that, her sister.?"
"Amy might be hurt. I can't deny that.” Stuart, eyeing me.”But you didn't wind up doing anything besides getting a little excited, right?..."
I nod. Sighing.
"So. That's just normal. And Charlotte counted on that to undermine you, I'm sure. But it doesn't sound to me like you did anything wrong. You haven't betrayed Amy, Sheldon. God, she loves Johnny Depp, you know. Gets off on him all the.”
Catching my furious stare.
"Never mentioned that to you, did she?..." Ummn.
"No.” I, tersely. "And where does this 'Johnny Depp' reside, perchance?..."
"Sheldon, he's a film actor. Jack Sparrow, 'Pirates of the Caribbean'.?"
"Oh, that. I never watched those films. Historically inaccurate to put it mildly.”
"You watch sci-fi and fantasy all the time. Not to mention.” he gestured to indicate his shop of delightful wares.
"But those either haven't had a chance to happen yet or could be happening in parts of the multiverse. No confederacy of pirates ever battled the East India Company and an octopus-faced Captain Davy Jones.”
"But they could in some part of the multiverse.” Stuart, shrewdly.
"And I could hunt down and flay this 'Depp' fellow alive in several. Given that, I'll consider it, Stuart.”
The heck I will. Merely a temporary concession to please my ally.
Some historical standards must be maintained. As for this 'Depp' character, let him be on his guard, he has made my enemies list.
"And it's only human. That's all I'm saying.” Stuart, shaking head. "It's nothing to do with your feelings for Amy or your lives together unless you let Charlotte convince you that it is. And to be honest, I believe you about Charlotte. In fact I did a little checking while you were fussing over which hat and overcoat in my collection were closest to Mr. Welles' and least objectionable to you. She really does have a past.”
"Of course. Amy told me so.” Hmmn. Hard evidence. "Stuart, what do you have?. And is it anything I could use?..."
"Nothing recent. But there is a pattern, as you've said.” Stuart, shaking head. "Here.” he offered me a printout.
Hmmn. .
"It says.”
"I read French, Stuart. It's a headline and story about a principal of a girls' school.”
"Not just any girls' school.” Stuart, eyeing me.
"Oh. Monsieur Herrot, eh?..." I nod. "Amy mentioned him.”
"Arrested on suspicion of molesting schoolgirls after a sterling career.” Stuart noting. "Yet all the girls but one recanted at the trial. And blamed that one girl, the most popular in school, for instigating things. Though she provided pretty convincing evidence of some sort of sexual union. He was acquitted but never able to hold a position like that again...Ended up a suicide. Then there were the three professors at her college. And two deans at her medical school. And a famous industrialist and some actor twins who shot each other over her. And those were just the most prominent. Yet each time she escaped serious suspicion.”
"Except by Amy.” I correct. "Though it was only after that one fellow, the doctor who'd operated on Charlotte who came to see their mother and threaten a lawsuit using videos his surveillance system had made, that her suspicions were raised enough to confront Charlotte during a Christmas visit to her in France.”
"Videos?...Of.” Stuart, staring..
(Children, leave. )
I stare back.
"Whoa.” Stuart, nodding.
"And she denied it?..."
"Au contraire, mon ami.” I, shaking head. Grabbing at homburg hat slipping. "She was delighted to confess to that one and tell Amy about others. Urging her to provide cheers for the revenge she was taking on all those who'd treated her so badly as a child and now that she'd acquired some outer grace, were falling all over her, doting on her. She wanted Amy to join her in her Evil quest. Even offered the services of several doctors in her thrall to 'improve' on her appearance. As if Amy Farrah Fowler could be improved upon. But when Amy refused. She accused her of betraying her and being 'like all the others'. Blamed her for her being sent away as a child. And vowed vengeance on her. "
Stuart, thoughtful. Impressed. "You've hooked yourself up with an Irrawaddy cobra, Cooper.”
"Hmmn?..."
"From 'Double Indemnity', Edward G. Robinson as 'Keyes' to Fred MacMurray 'Walter Neff'. About Barbara Stanwyck. I'd say Charlotte fits the bill.”
"Ah.”
(Children, you may return. )
"But the question is. Why would Amy trust her now?..."
"It's been a few years since any new scandals leaked out in public, though Amy had heard the occasional rumor of Charlotte's exploits. Charlotte's gotten famous as a wonderful healer and her rather charming if dumbed-down books ooze a feely, touchy warmth about her work as a pediatric neurologist. And she'd claimed it was understandable childish nonsense and has professed her love for Amy for years. Most of all, Amy wants her sister back. The sweet one from before she was bundled off to France by their father and everything changed after the said doctor there did his experimental surgery.”
"Excuse me?..." Stuart.
"Plastic surgery. He'd seen Charlotte at her school and thought it would make his career, if she lived. Amy said. Though he cast himself in public as a sort of Louis Pasteur, rescuing this poor child from her congenital fate. He exploited her shamelessly and Amy thinks Charlotte saw him as a father-figure until she realized he was just using her. Then she destroyed him as her first victim, despite his aforementioned efforts to counter her. Fellow couldn't resist her in the end. She got the video evidence destroyed and he got a one-way ticket to Devil's Island.”
"Yikes.”
"I think it was more 'My God, you can't show these to my wife and the police. Die, bitch, die!'. Bang, bang. Unfortunately, it seems she'd arranged for the gun to backfire. Make that a one-eyed, one-armed one way ticket to Devil's Island.”
"Barbara Stanwyck, no question.” Stuart shook head. "But how was this monster created?...I mean, she had surgery, became beautiful and a great doctor. How did that.?"
"She feels betrayed by Mankind. And Womankind. She never wanted to leave home or Amy. She begged to stay, at least with their grandmother in Maine, the only place the girls felt loved. Their own mother didn't object to (and her father couldn't wait to do so) sending her away to France to a Dickensian girls' school for the least wanted/most disposable or to Charlotte becoming a guinea pig/one-girl Dionne quintet sideshow for 'Dr. Pasteur'. And then everyone treated her differently after the surgeries. They all suddenly found her so lovable, beautiful. The same adults who'd never had a good or kind word before for her. The boys who'd run from her and thrown rocks now all wanted to carry her books and carry on with her, whatever she demanded of them. The girls all wanted to be with their famous classmate. None really cared to know about her or were true friends. Even her mother was now willing to resume contact, though mainly it seems, to use her as decoration at parties. Which Charlotte has successfully dodged all these years.
And as a result, Charlotte's view of this world and the people in it darkened considerably. Though she's become skilled at concealing her true feelings.” I conclude.
Stuart shaking head.
"Thus we return to our more familiar plane of reference, my world.” he nods. "It sounds like the classic creation of a twisted supervillain.”
"And I suppose.” sigh on my part. Guilt must be purged. "I've not helped by letting her sense my interest.”
"Only human, Sheldon, if it didn't go beyond that.”
"Hey!..."
"Just want to be sure. I hafta know everything if I'm gonna help you. And knowing how much Charlotte got to you is part of 'everything'.”
"She didn't 'get' to me. Much.” frown.
"Ok, then. Now, Sheldon. Understand that I have to ask these questions. Do you love Amy?..."
"Of course.”
"Do you want to be with her. For keeps?...Seeing as it's very unlikely either of you will have the chance to mate again in this life.”
I avoid pointing out I now have such an additional chance. But that will never happen, so.
"Yes.”
"Then, trust the feeling. Charlotte can't touch that, however Evilly good she may be.” Stuart, pointing. "Go, make contact, Harry Lime. I'll send my text in exactly one minute.” beaming at me in my outfit.
What, through that mud field?...I stare.
Well, it does put to rest any lingering doubts as to my devotion. As I step out again and trudge. Stuart watching from the car.
My feet are wet. I suspect this scene will end up not one from "The Third Man" but "Camille". Multi-drug-resistant TB being rampant these days.
Lightning flash. .More rain.
Sigh. Still, my treasured acquaintance's on-again, off-again partner Bernadette would note such a form of penitence following my late confession would pretty much do it were I a Catholic.
That which has made them sleepy, hath made her bold. Penny and Bernadette now out cold on the bed with Amy. Charlotte awake, in a large chair eyeing them.
Americans. No head for liquor. If you can call this "margarita" stuff, liquor.
"Girls.?" ethereally gentle whisper.
All the children sleep in their beds. And we. Herself and her temporary, fill-in, prey can talk. Continuing her campaign regarding the unfitness of one Sheldon Cooper as matrimonial material.
Said prey, one Hofstadter, currently in the living room just outside, asleep on roll-away bed.
Only natural she'd seek to see if he might still be awake. To continue discussing her concerns about her odd duck of a potential brother-in-law.
And if through some mischance she should stumble onto said roll-away bed and through undeniable physical attraction they become accidently entwined in the blissful agony of coitus. To be found the next morning. Preferably by Penny, but anyone of the girls would do.
Hey, these things happen. Especially around Charlotte Magdalena Fowler.
In fact she and some of France's first families could testify that these things happen a lot. Sometimes multiple times. And places. In one night.
Guess perhaps it should have been Charlotte Messalina Fowler, if I may indulge in a witticism.
She threaded her way cautiously. And was out in the living room in seconds. Taking a seat on the couch across from Leonard. Turning a small, portable reading lamp on.
No need to be particularly aggressive. Just out here, reading her medical journal, not wishing to disturb anyone.
Snore from the said Hofstadter.
Well, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to speed this along. She dropped her journal against the coffee table, loud smack.
Snore. Louder.
Fine. Frown.
Time to bring out the heavy guns.
She burst into sobs. Just loud enough without threat of waking those in the bedroom. Pitched to just the right frequency to most disturb the male of the species.
These things must be done delicately. Or you hurt the spell.
Leonard, groaning, tossing. Popping one eye after the other open.
"Charlotte?..."
"Oh. Leonard. So sorry to wake you, I was just reading...I couldn't sleep.” slight fumble at robe.
"No, it's ok.” he sat up. "It's fine. Is Amy sleeping?..."
"Finally, yes. Poor thing.” frown. "I can't believe Sheldon would do this to her.”
"Well, Sheldon. Is Sheldon. Amy's gonna have to get used to it, if she wants to marry him.” Leonard sighed. "I've thought about what you told me tonight. Last night, I mean.” he eyed a clock radio on the desk in the room ruefully.
"It's not important.” she waved a hand. "Perhaps given my rather sheltered upbringing, I simply mistook what passes for normal in relations between men and women in the world beyond my own. I can let it pass and forget all about it. Both times. But this I can't let pass. Not this insult to my sister.” Hard stare.
"Yeah, but I'm still a little concerned about what you said.” he began.
"Leonard. My sister means everything to me.” Charlotte, cutting him off. "We must protect her from making a grave mistake. And if all that's happened is typical of Sheldon's behavior.”
"See, that's the point, I.”
"It's clear it all trends in one direction. The man does not wish to marry Amy. He's simply led her on. And now he's willing to do anything to escape his promises.”
"Well. Sheldon might be scared. But he's not a man to break his promises. And getting back to what you said about.”
"How can you say that?...Look at what he's done!.” Charlotte, tears running delicately now. "Oh, Leonard, I'd thought you were a man whom a woman could trust in. I.”
"Of course you can 'trust' me, Charlotte. But.”
"Can I?..." she had risen and moved to him. "I want to.” she sat on his bed.
"I feel so close to you, Leonard.” she noted.
"Well. You kinda. Are, Charlotte.” he gurgled a bit.
"Do I make you nervous, Leonard?..." she leaned back a bit. "I'm sorry if I do.”
"Oh. No.” he wheezed a bit.
Hofstadter gets asthmatic when overwhelmed by a female presence. I don't know if it was an evolutionary development. The doomed beta male gasping for breath catches the sympathy of one of the less sexually fulfilled females and while the alpha male is off at the watering hole relating his latest exploits with the ladies or on hunt, he manages to ensure his genes are passed on.
"I usually feel so nervous myself about men. I'm terrible at dealing with them. Like my sister. We're peas in a pod, really. As I'm sure you've noticed.” Charlotte, winsome smile into Leonard's nervous face. Brushing stray, wind-blown style hair back.
"Oh, yeah.” Leonard, catching breath.
"Anyway, about what you said.”
"Oh, Leonard.” she burst into full-force sobbing, dropping her head onto his shoulder, putting arm around him. Pulling him strongly against her thin, sensuous frame. "What am I to do?...How can I let poor Amy make this terrible, terrible mistake?..Leonard?..."
"Uhh.."
"You have beautiful eyes.”
"Gran Mag.”
Summary: Utterly for fun. Sheldon is in deep, deep trouble. From certain povs. When Amy's older sister blows. Into town. For Halloween and their engagement party.
Helps if you look up the wondrous Charlotte Gainsbourg. And one of the better pics of the equally wondrous Maggie Hamilton.
Disclaimer: BBT is all Chuck's.
Part XIII.
I trudge through the muddiness darkness of the field around the Marriott Hotel where my beloved, Amy Farrah Fowler sleeps in the web of her sister's making. Stuart awaiting me in his car in the far parking lot, out of sight of the room taken by said sister, Charlotte Magdalena Fowler, on her visit to ostensibly share in the joyous news of her sister's engagement. All four female members of our little posse spending the night under Charlotte's wakeful and fiendishly watchful eye, along with my roommate Leonard, currently ensnared in her lethal sexual cluthes.
Typical. While I perform the heroics, Hofstadter gets it on. But it is clearly my burden in life to carry it for others.
But while I had surmised Charlotte would be putting moves on Leonard, I clearly could not be sure such would be the case. And could not be sure that if even she were alone, my beloved Amy would be awake or awaken to receive Stuart's text message, cleverly formulated to seem innocuous should Charlotte be on guard by her, ready to intercept and distort any attempt at contact by me.
And even if she did receive the message and was able to act, would she understand it?...And be ready to make contact.?
I am not a man of faith by nature. Apart from unquestioning faith and trust in the love of grandmothers. But now I must put my scientific skepticism slightly aside and trust in the love that binds me to Amy Farrah Fowler.
Slightly. After all there is a logic to the idea that a film buff and lover of such a classic film as "The Third Man" would interpret Stuart Bloom's message correctly. And Amy is suspicious of Charlotte's motives in coming, much as she wants to believe in her sister's love for her.
Almost in position. There, that should be the balcony. Oh, Lord!...That lightning bolt could've fried every cat on the roof from here to Christmas!...And I would be the tallest thing in an empty, muddy field.
All right, this is for love, I can do this, just give her a few seconds more. Resume position. There.
(Children, out. )
"There.” Charlotte moaned. "Oh, yeasss, Leonard.!...Yes, yes!..."
Lord, another one!...Even closer. I tell you, this homburg on my head is like a Franklin rod, just pulling those bolts right down on me.
"Wee, ha, ha, hah, ha.” to the accompaniment of an enormous thunder. "Oh, lightning flash and thunder roar!...Ah, ha, ha, ha, hah.”
"Charlotte?...Did you just cackle?..." Leonard, staring.
"What, dearest?...Oh, I always do that. On the few times I've ever had sex. It's a Fowler trait. You were wonderful by the way.” she beamed. "And what a perfect night.”
Flash!...I jump. Oh, my resolve is weakening. Stuart must've sent that text by now and either Amy is unheeding or unable. Or, unwilling.
"Quick !...Before the crash!...One. More. Time!..." Charlotte, grabbing Leonard. "Arggh, Charlotte!..."
"Ahhhh, ha, ha, ha, ha, hah!..."
By the way, I can attest to it's being a Fowler trait. (Get those children out of here!...). Though Amy's is a melodious fluid twitter of a climatic cackle.
But, even as the Wicked Witch of the East consummates her fiendish act of betrayal.
Amy. I stare at the figure peering out the balcony.
And there, in the harsh, momentary flash of lightning, in overcoat and the homburg hat Stuart insisted I wear. A near perfect match to that Orson Welles wore in "The Third Man". Stand I, Sheldon Cooper, her beloved. Like some miraculous vision. Faint smile on my lips, finger raised in caution.
She locks eyes with me. Our souls exchanging data in a continuous feed. Her lips parting in wonder.
She has such nice lips, Amy Farrah Fowler.
And as suddenly, connection was severed and I was. OW!...
It was dark. I stepped on something. But I managed to slip away before she could call to me, hobbling into the blackness.
I knew I should have added boots to my emergency supplies at the apartment. That will be rectified.
All I could do now was hope Stuart's insistence that Amy would get the message, keep my secret, and be on guard, was justified.
She is very perceptive.
Stuart was waiting in his car and I reported on the success of my mission. We watched from the darkness of the hotel parking lot to see if any hue and cry were raised.
Nothing.
"She's got it.” Stuart, nodding sagely. "I knew if I texted 'Got new copy of 'The Third Man', it'll be in the window. ', she'd get it.”
Speaking of getting it.
"Charlotte?...Leonard?..." Amy had emerged from the bedroom, uncertain whether to rush after me in blissful rapture or heed my urge at caution. In any case, after such excitement. And a pitcher full of margaritas, she needed to pee.
"Ummn... Amy. Hi.” Leonard squeaked.
His natural voice following coitus interruptus.
"Amy. Anything wrong?..." Charlotte, peeking out from the rollaway bed clothes.
"Amy?..." Penny's groan from the open bedroom door. Soft thud of Penny-feet on floor.
Amy frantically rushing to close door, too late.
"Oh, God.” Penny, Leonard, eyeing each other. Charlotte, innocently warm beam.”Hello, Penny.”
Oh, yes. For Charlotte Magdalena Fowler, this be her kind of night.