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Sheldon Cooper, P.I.	By : MariaTeresaQuintanar Category: 1 through F > The Big Bang Theory Views: 2777 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Big Bang Theory or any of its characters. I make no moneys from the posting of this story.

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Chapter Four

            Sheldon arrived home at the expected time and let himself into the apartment just in time to see Howard trying to break open one of the windows with a paperweight. I don’t think this would have bothered Sheldon much if it hadn’t been his TARDIS in the other man’s hands about to make impact on what essentially was bullet proof glass. Sheldon’s screaming had me rushing over and taking the TARDIS from the man attempting his escape.
            “If you broke this, I’d have to break you,” I said coolly. “I thought you were smarter than to mess with his things.” Taking it over to Sheldon, I handed it over. “See? It’s fine.” Putting it in his hands, the reed thin man pressed it protectively to his chest with both arms wrapped around it.
            Yeah, I thought, it was moments like this I wish I could just pop a client in the nose. Howard had it coming.
            “I’m checking everything!” Sheldon declared, rushing out. “EVERYTHING!”
            I flinched at that. Damn, Howard just had to be an asshole. I went over to him, slamming him down into the chair next to him. “If I can’t get him out of this funk, you won’t have to worry about having kids…”
            “Really?” Bernadette asked, actually sounding happy about that. “What can you do to solve that problem?”
            “Castrate him,” I told her. “Still interested?”
            “Uh, no,” she breathed, as she shrank back in her seat.
            “He was in my room! My room! No one goes into my room!” Sheldon exclaimed, walking out of his bedroom and was now clutching more things to his chest.
            “Sweetie…”
            “My room, Penny!”
            “I know, sweetie,” I cooed. “And I am so sorry he got into there. I thought he would know better than to do that.” I walked Sheldon over to his spot, sitting him down. “As upset as you are, you need to calm down and question them. We need to find out the truth. Give me your things and I will stand guard over them while you grill…”
            “Eating other humans is not recommended,” he breathed, as I took his things from him. “For various reasons, not the least of which is the fact it’s illegal.”
            “I know. You told me all about it before when I said to grill a suspect. It means to question them in an intense manner or way,” I murmured to him. “Would you like a Yahoo or a water?”
            “A bottle of water, please,” he said, looking over to Howard with his eyes narrowed. Under normal circumstances, I have to say I would have felt sorry for the fool of an engineer. But really, when you think of it, he did only have himself to blame. “Why did you hire me?”
            I put back Sheldon’s things, hopefully all in the correct locations, because I know I wouldn’t hear the end of it if that wasn’t the case. I locked up the bedroom, joining them again in the living room. Howard was crying. Yes, my boss the whackadoodle, could reduce a grown man to tears. It’s a power he doesn’t pull out often, but when he does—watch out!
            “I swear! I didn’t have anything to do with the robbery!” Howard sobbed. “I may have needed the money, but I’m telling you, I don’t need it so badly as to wreck my career or life over it!”
            I walked over to Howard, handing him a box of tissues and left a small trash can near his feet. The theoretical physicist next to him would have had puppies if he hadn’t a place to toss out the used snot rags.
            “Besides,” Bernadette said, blushing. “With my thesis just being accepted and having earned my Ph.D., I don’t have to worry about money at all. I’m rolling in very high priced job offers. It’s just a matter of figuring out which one.”
            “Why would that matter to Howard?” I inquired absently. When they all looked over to me, I added, “If he just met you, for that matter, you seem rather close.” Bernadette and Howard both blushed.
            “Well…” she said, but couldn’t get more out than that.
            “I may have lied about just how long we’ve known each other,” Howard admitted quietly.
            “You never said how long exactly,” Sheldon murmured. “How long would that be?”
            “Just over a year,” he muttered. “Maybe more.”
            I looked to both of them, sitting next to each other. Her hand clutched in his. And then it hit me. They were a couple. Not just a couple, but a couple on the verge of taking the vows.
            “When’s the wedding?” I inquired.
            “They are not getting married!” Sheldon exclaimed. “He would have mentioned it before now.” He looked to Howard. “Tell her.”
            “The plan was to get hitched before I went off to the space station to install the new toilet,” he murmured, his face going red.
            “Does anyone else know?” Sheldon asked, sounding like a hurt little boy.
            “Uh, Leonard and Raj,” Howard answered. “Leonard because he gave me noogies until I told him a month ago and Rajesh because he just sort of already knew.”
            I used this awkward silence to hand Sheldon his water. Leaning down I breathed, “I wasn’t told either.” He looked at me sharply. “Which is weird, as I know both of them. Something’s going on here. I don’t get what.”
            He furrowed his brow in thought, as he sipped on his water. “Very true, Penelope. There is something more, I think.” He looked directly to Bernadette. “Made any new friends lately? Say a neurobiologist?”
            Gasping she said, “How did you know?”
            “Who?”
            “Her name is Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler,” she admitted. “We met as a part of a study she was making on smoking monkeys.” She flushed looking over to me explaining, “It was another side job.”
            “You know for a woman that is rolling in potential money, you seem really concerned with your debt,” I commented.
            “My mom gives me guilt every time she gets the chance. It’s the Catholic in her,” Bernadette said on a sigh. “And I figure the more debt I have paid off before Howie and me get married the better.”
            “First of all, that’s what mothers are for,” Sheldon stated with a resigned voice, more than likely thinking of his own mother. “And second, why wasn’t I told about the wedding?”
            I put my hand on his shoulder, telling him, “Find the space toilet thingy and then ask about why you weren’t told. You are getting paid to do the finding. Let’s stick to the priorities, shall we?”
            He nodded to this, but I could tell he was hurt. Chances were that “Soft Kitty” was going to be sung tonight and it was going to be me doing the singing. Damn.
***
            Once we were able to drop Bernadette and Howard off at his mother’s house, we took the long way back over to the apartment. I was deep in thought when I caught sight of the same car that had been following me the night before.
            “We have someone following us,” I told him.
            “Seeing as you are in the lead in a large pack of cars…”
            “I meant that someone is specifically following only us,” I snapped. “For a genius you are really slow on the uptake sometimes.” When he glared at me, I said, “You are way too literal.”
            I drove around aimlessly and finally stopped to buy a coffee at Starbucks on Colorado. Handing him a hot chocolate, we sat at an outdoor table, watching the traffic going by. The little ugly car that had seen better days, came to a stop just behind my car on the street. A plain woman in clothes better suited to a lady three times her age and glasses that seemed to nearly covered her face came over to our table.
            “Doctor Cooper,” she said, her inflection free voice giving me the creeps. Turning to look at me, her eyes softened a bit and said, “Penny.”
            “Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler,” Sheldon said coolly. “To what do we owe this honor? It’s not as if we are smoking monkeys.”
            She flushed at his words saying, “Alright, I confess! I’ve been making a social study on the interactions within your pier group.”
            “Huh?” I looked to Sheldon.
            Rolling his eyes in exasperation, he said, “She’s been studying us and our friends, seeing how we interact with each other.”
            “Oh, okay.” I grinned at him. “Thank you, sweetie.” I looked over to her and asked bluntly, “So did you steal the space toilet flusher thingy?”
            Frowning she said, “I have no reason to do so. Despite making my study more exciting than a Mexican soap opera, I didn’t have a thing to do with the theft. But I have a good idea who might want…”
            Shots rang out. I tackled Sheldon to the ground, covering him with my body as I saw a rental car taking off like a bullet. Well, a bullet in really bad traffic. Pulling out my cell phone I dialed 911 and reported the shooting, even giving the license plate of the car.
            “Are you okay?” I asked Sheldon. He was looking at the woman who had been at the table with us in horror.
            I looked over and saw that she was bleeding. Seeing as she wasn’t blinking, chances were she was dead. But even so, I didn’t know what horrified Sheldon more—her death, the fact she was bleeding freely, or that I was still pinning him to the ground that hadn’t seen a broom in some time. Yeah, I was almost sure to have to sing “Soft Kitty” to him that night.
            The ambulance arrived in a timely fashion and we discovered that Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler wasn’t dead. Yes, I should have checked for a pulse, but I’m telling you I had my hands full just trying to deal with Sheldon! We were questioned by the police and were told to stay in town.
            Once back in the car, I said, “I have some questions.”
            “Commence,” he murmured.
            “Where’s the space toilet flusher? Who would benefit the most from its theft? Who injured and/or killed Krypke? And is it the same person that just shot Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler? Did someone other than Bernadette know about the social experiment going on within our pier group? Just how did Raj know about them getting engaged to be married before everyone else? And do I really have to sing you ‘Soft Kitty’ tonight?”
            He waited a moment. “Done?”
            “So far.”
            Clearing his throat, he admitted, “I only have a firm answer on one of the questions stated.”
            “Which is?”
            “Emotional trauma is a type of illness. So yes, you do have to sing me ‘Soft Kitty’ tonight.”
            Reduced to nothing really good left to say, I muttered the only thing I could use as a response. “Frak.”

TBC...
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Four chapters away! Thanks for reading and I hope you guys let me know what you think about what's going on. Have a spectacular day!
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Sheldon Cooper, P.I.