"The X-Advisors..."

"The X-Advisors..." Part LII...

Disclaimer: All is Chuck's...

Part LII...

Theme from "A Shot in the Dark..." (check youtube).

Careful...Catlike crawl, pause as lights from passing car are scattered by window blinds and reflected in strange lines on the opposing wall. Ok...

Stealthy slide toward door...Carefully pausing by a numberpad, typing hurriedly.

Hmmn...Knew it...

Now, just a quick...

"Amy." Cool tone, lamp switched on from rocker by sidetable.

Dang. Amy sighed.

Busted.

Once again the catlike Fowler reflexes fall to the catlike Fowler vision...

But I did think the warm milk had set the old girl off to dreamland...Fool that I was.

"Get back to the sofa and go to sleep." Margaret, sternly. "I promise we'll go over to Sheldon's as soon as reasonable in the morning. Don't give me that 'but it's technically the morning now' look. One thirty am is not a reasonable hour. Kudos on figuring out my code by the way, though I suppose 'wickeder#1" is rather easy to puzzle out. Now come back to bed and stop fretting, child."

"Can't I at least...?"

"Amy, you've called him twice already. The boy needs his sleep, you want to jeopardy his clearly fragile health?"

"No...I..." Blanch! "Fragile?! What do you mean, Gran?"

"He's a bit thin and pale. Clearly he's been working much too hard. A young boy like that..." sigh. "Working himself to death, really."

"What...?" Amy stared.

Oh, have I failed in my charge to my beloved? It's true he had been looking pale...Though I thought that his natural shade.

"I understand from Francis he'd not left his apartment in three days..."

True, true...True! I was gonna try and even urge Dr. Francis to go check on him in the guise of his anxious visiting sister if he hadn't anticipated me! Oh, I should've done it days ago!

"You think he's ill? I should go right now!"

"No...Not ill per se." Thoughtful nod. "But he clearly needs rest and food."

Amy narrowly... "Are you trying to manipulate me, Gran?"

"Of course." Smiling nod. "Being a Fowler you naturally got that right away, good. But I'm also quite sincere. That boy needs some rest and someone to put some meat on his bones."

"Fine...I'll let him rest...If we can see him early tomorrow. But as to food...I know he prefers hotdogs cut small and stirred into spaghetti, it's his favorite." She noted. "It was in a biographical article about him last year."

"Well, you let him, your old gran, and you, yourself get a little sleep and we'll get what you need to make Sheldon his favorite."

Hmmn, Margaret sighed...One must sometimes make due in Maine and Austin, but in Princeton and New York City, we would cut off the hand putting those cutup excuses for wieners into the sauce...Frowning.

Still, whatever works.

"And he can come over for dinner with everyone tomorrow night, a dinner you can make..." More or less, Margaret thought.

"I can? For Sheldon?"

"You can...For everyone, including both Sheldons."

Though you'll forgive me if I order out and slip upstairs to eat later.