Sheldon and Dr. Fowler are enjoying a romantic weekend away in Sacramento when they stumble upon a fiendish plot unfolding at the California Railroad Museum. Will Wonder Amy be able to keep Sheldon out of harm's way? Will Sheldon let her?

A postlude to The Wonder Amy Paradox.

THE WONDER AMY PARTNERSHIP

Chapter One

"I just feel underdressed," Amy said, using a hand to tug down on the opposite sleeve of her cardigan, even though there was no risk of her bracelets being seen. "I swear, Sheldon, the information only said black tie optional."

In response, Sheldon surveyed the room. It was true that most of the women were in longer gowns with flashier jewelry. "But none of them flash as bright as you," he whispered.

"What?" Amy asked.

He turned back to her, her bright green eyes framed by her glasses, her hair straight and falling on her shoulders. "None of these women, no matter what they're wearing, are Dr. Fowler. Remember that."

Amy smiled at him, at first softly and then it stretched into a grin. "I am pretty spectacular, aren't I?"

"If only all these mere mortals knew." Sheldon put out his elbow. "Come on, we came to see the new exhibits, let's go see them. One doesn't need a tuxedo to enjoy locomotives."

With a chuckle, Amy took his arm and they made their way through the milling crowd to look at the first display. Sheldon allowed himself to wonder if she'd not mentioned the optional black tie information previously because she wanted to be here with him as Dr. Fowler. She had a formal dress - a slinky sapphire blue number that was cut low in the back to reveal the shining armor beneath; she looked devastating in it when she'd gone to the Wayne Enterprises Superhero Gala a few months ago.

When an invitation to the Gala had arrived addressed to Dr. Fowler and Dr. Cooper, in appreciation for their roles in scientific breakthroughs aiding the metahuman community, Sheldon and Amy had many discussions about how to handle it. After all, Wonder Amy had her own invitation, too. Never one for parties, Sheldon would have been content to stay home, but Amy wanted to go and he probably would get to meet The Flash. It was decided that they would travel and arrive separately: Amy as Wonder Amy, and Sheldon without Dr. Fowler, using the excuse she was staying at home with their new baby, while in reality their son was with their downstairs neighbor, Mrs. Petrescu. Amy had looked stunning, her demigoddess body having quickly rebounded from pregnancy and childbirth. Yes, her bosom heaved a bit more than usual over the top of her armor, but it seemed unlikely anyone would mind.

At first Sheldon enjoyed the evening, meeting Dr. Banner and other scientists, but it was hard to watch Wonder Amy dazzling alone. Their eyes kept meeting and then Wonder Amy cut through the crowd, that blue dress like a knife through butter, and asked him to dance. He played his role well and danced, holding her at a distance, as a mere acquaintance. This was the life he'd gladly accepted: to be Dr. Fowler's husband but Wonder Amy's secret. But sometimes the distance cut, too.

After watching her dance a few more songs with others, Sheldon had left early only to find Amy had beat him home in that way she had. Mrs. Petrescu was gone, and Amy was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of their bedroom, her armor removed and Hector at her breast. Her hair was still curled, and it framed her face as she sang a soft lullaby.

"You left?" Sheldon asked. "Why? I thought this was your triumphant return to the spotlight after months away."

"I could tell you weren't enjoying yourself anymore," Amy said. "And none of my dancing partners were nearly as good as you."

Sheldon smiled at her and sat of the edge of the bed, close enough their knees were touching. It was, in retrospect, the moment he decided they really needed to find a new place to live. "I knew I couldn't always be your partner when I asked you to be mine," he said.

Amy leaned forward and rested her hand upon his knee. "But I want you to be my partner when it really matters. I will save the world alone, Sheldon, but I want you by my side for everything else. Including date nights and dances."

So, tonight, here in the new train museum, she was wearing a simple floral dress with one of her cardigans over the top and her plain beige heels, her typical date night choice.

Very soon, their attire was forgotten as they fell easily into conversion, no doubt aided by the camaraderie of their shared secret. They discussed the photographs, placards, and various historical items on display, Sheldon volunteering the plethora of information he found lacking. Amy relaxed back into her usual confident self, only broken by a flash of worry when her phone vibrated. She scrambled in her purse for it and then let out a breath when she saw the screen. "Unknown," she explained.

"I'm sure he's fine," Sheldon said softly, squeezing her hand.

"You're right. I'm ruining your birthday."

"No, you're not. I'm out with just my Amy and at a train museum. It doesn't get any better than that."

Blushing, Amy smiled and dipped her head before looking away.

This was the first time they'd been away from their son for an extended period of time. Sure, he'd been babysat before, and not just for galas, but never overnight and certainly not for a whole weekend. In celebration of Sheldon's birthday, Amy had arranged a weekend in Sacramento, riding Amtrak north and then staying in the historic district. The California Railroad Museum had just completed its remodel and expansion, and Amy had even gotten them tickets to the preview event of the new building in the former Union Pacific Railyards. The railyard building was within walking distance of both the museum and the Sacramento Valley Amtrak station, but there was a beautifully restored steam locomotive that took visitors between it and the primary building as part of a scenic loop along the river.

Trying to be discreet, Sheldon watched Amy as she read the placard for the next display. Other than her occasional worries about Hector or the rare remnant of her former Dr.-Fowler-hesitations, they'd had a wonderful two days, both yesterday on the Costal Starlight train northbound and today in Sacramento. Not even one of her normal impromptu absences had occurred; he realized, suddenly, that she'd probably ignored the mysterious calls for her help in order to stay by his side. Just as she'd chosen not to bring the blue evening dress. Just as they'd taken the train and not her invisible jet, which, while much faster, terrified him.

Overcome with this knowledge, he leaned over and brushed his lips upon her cheek. Amy turned to look at him in surprise, as he was so rarely in favor of public displays of affection.

"Thank you," he said. "I just realized you haven't, um, well, . . ." He cleared his throat and twirled his index finger in the air. "If you know what I mean."

He was rewarded with one of Amy's mischievous smiles and she repeated the same action with her own index finger. "Maybe I'm saving all my tricks for later."

Sheldon's eyebrow went up in pleasure, but, before he could answer, he heard Amy's stomach growl. "You need food." It was a simple statement of fact and she nodded in reply.

Even forty-eight hours of calm did not decrease Amy's massive caloric needs; her metabolism burned constantly. Traveling could be hard, between the surprised looks of waiters when she ordered multiple meals and the expense. They made their way out of the exhibit proper, back into the lobby space which was set up with a buffet and a . . . "What is that?" Sheldon asked.

There, at one end of the buffet table, was what appeared to be a large garden fountain, easily as tall as Sheldon, but it was flowing not with water but instead with some kind of translucent amber liquid.

"Why, it's a maple syrup fountain, my friends!" Sheldon instinctively took a step back from the thin man who had leaned in too close for comfort.

"Maple syrup? What does that have to do with trains?" Amy asked as Sheldon studied the stranger. He appeared to have taken the black tie optional bit to heart, as he was wearing not only a full tuxedo, but also a black cape and top hot. His hair was also coal black, matching the ensemble perfectly, and he even wore a thin handlebar mustache that curled up at the ends. He was the embodiment of the word ridiculous, Sheldon thought.

"We're bringing real Canadian maple syrup to the masses!" he boomed, swooping his arm in a half-circle, the other resting on a silver-topped walking stick. "None of your watery American stuff here. We're celebrating the expansion of Whiplash Industries to California, and we're bringing our Canadian maple syrup via specially designed train cars to maintain the proper temperature and consistency." Then he bowed deeply from the waist, pulling his cloak around him in a theatrical flourish with one hand and tipping his top hat with the other. "Snidely Whiplash himself, at your service."

"What an unusual name," Amy murmured. Then, louder, "Well, I'm sure it's an excellent product and congratulations on your expansion, but I'm really hungry -"

"Hungry? Hungry! Well, you are speaking the right man!" Snidely trotted the two steps closer to the end of the buffet and picked up something rectangular and light brown. "We have French toast sticks! And waffle sticks! And pancake pops! Just dip them right into the maple syrup fountain and eat your fill of our Canadian goodness! It's wholesomeness will warm you for days."

Sheldon looked around and noticed how many people were doing just that. Everyone in the room seemed to be carrying a stick of breakfast pastry dripping with syrup in one hand while using the other to wipe at their mouths. Or even, he noticed with growing alarm, licking their fingers. He swiveled his head as someone approached the fountain and placed their half-eaten waffle stick back into it. Sheldon's stomach flopped in disgust.

"No, thank you!" he said, placing a hand on the small of Amy's back to steer her away.

"But you haven't even tried it! You simply must! I insist!"

Pressing harder on Amy as she took his hint and stepped away, Sheldon called behind them, "If Mrs. Butterworth's was good enough for my Meemaw, then it's good enough for me!"

"Sheldon, what was that about?" Amy asked as they reached the opposite end of the buffet.

"Look around," Sheldon instructed. He picked up a white plate and handed it to Amy. "There's perfectly good utensils right here." To prove his point, he picked up a fork and brandished it at her. "Everyone is eating all that finger food like animals. And double dipping!"

Amy curled her hand over his and took the fork from him. "You're getting a little worked up, don't you think?"

Before he could answer, Snidely stepped up next to them again, holding a dripping pancake pop in each hand. "I insist! Try it! You must!"

"No, thank you. I was thinking this quiche looked wonderful and I could really use the protein," Amy said, smiling and reaching for the pie server next to the quiche in question.

"You don't know what you're missing!" Snidely said, taking another step closer, and Sheldon thought his tone was sounding more menacing by the second. And his thinness was starting to feel disturbing; he was gaunt to the point that he looked unhealthy, and his skin had a faint sickly bluish cast to it. "Everyone else is eating it and look how happy they are."

Indeed, Sheldon noticed that everyone was eating the maple syrup, even more than a few minutes ago. And multiple people were double dipping now, some people putting two or even three items in the fountain at a time. Cheeks were puffed out like chipmunks, crumbs fell from overstuffed mouths, and everyone seemed oblivious to the mess they were making on their hands and even on their fancy evening wear. The exhibits appeared empty as the line for the maple syrup fountain grew before Sheldon's eyes.

He leaned close to his wife to whisper, "Amy, I have a bad feeling about -"

"Eat it!" Snidely pressed closer to Amy, baring his teeth now, pushing a pancake pop close to her mouth. Sheldon started to warn him but then pressed his lips together when he decided he'd prefer to see Snidely's unprepared reaction.

Amy reached up and grasped the pancake pop, crushing it until it fell in sticky crumbles to the floor. Then, after putting down her plate of quiche, she grabbed Snidely's bony pale hand in hers, wrapping her palm around his fist and squeezing. "We. Said. We. Don't. Want. Any. Maple. Syrup," she growled.

Snidely Whiplash's eyes popped which only made them look even more sunken than they had, but his Adam's apple bobbed with a large gulp that Sheldon assumed was his way of swallowing away the pain.

"Did I make myself clear?" Amy continued, her teeth clenched together.

"Yes," Snidely whimpered and Amy let him go. He took off backwards, almost tripping in his rush to turn around.

With a flip of her hair, Amy turned to Sheldon. "I have a bad feeling, too. I love breakfast for dinner as much as the next gal, but that was extreme. Let's get out of here. We'll find somewhere else to eat."

"Yes, let - Look!" Sheldon pointed to her hand, where a small pool of maple syrup about the size of a dime was moving up the back of her hand toward her wrist. Up as in against the normal force of gravity.

Lifting her hand, Amy looked down at the splotch that was breaking the laws of physics. "Correction. I have a really bad feeling about this."

Then there was a loud ruckus from near the door and they both turned to watch the crowd around the maple syrup fountain. There wasn't a line anymore; rather, it was turning into a feeding frenzy, people pushing and shoving, trying to climb over each other to get closer. Sheldon gasped when one man punched another.

"What is in that stuff?" Sheldon asked, turning back to look at Amy's hand. The self-moving blob of syrup was almost to her wrist now. "Hurry! Wipe it off!"

He reached for some napkins and together they wiped it away, searching elsewhere on her skin and her clothes for any more drips. "But it's on the floor," Sheldon said, looking down to see lines of maple syrups crawling toward their feet. They shuffled several steps back together.

Amy brought the napkin up to peer closer at it, lifting her glasses to take advantage of her natural focal point, squinting at the still-moving stain. "I can't tell. It looks like regular maple syrup, even though it can't be." She sighed. "Where's Superman with his X-ray vision when you need him?"

"Nanobytes!" Sheldon hissed with a snap of his fingers. "They would have both the programming and microscopic size needed to infect the syrup. But where did they come from? And why?"

There was a shattering sound, and they looked up together to see the maple syrup fountain topple from the force of everyone crawling all over it, sending the sweet liquid flowing all over the floor and squirting out of disconnected hoses. Almost everyone feel to their knees, running their hands through it, bringing their sticky palms up to their mouths to greedily wash them clean with their tongues.

"Nyahaahaaa!" Snidely let loose a nasal, high-pitched, and pure evil laugh that made Sheldon's skin crawl even more than the idea of licking nanobyte-infested maple syrup off the bare floor. "It's working! The world will be mine! Nyahaahaa!" Snidely looked as though it was all he could do to avoid twirling the curled ends of his mustache.

Looking at Amy, his eyes wide, Sheldon reached up and snatched the soiled napkin from her hand and threw it wide of them. "As much as I want to put considerable distance between us and this unhygienic evil plan, I think -"

"This is a job for Wonder Amy?" Amy interrupted, a new sparkle in her emerald eyes. Sheldon nodded. "Hurry," Amy continued, "you hide under the tablecloth and I'll go, well, you know." She raised her index finger and twirled it just as they both had earlier.

"Hide? I'm not hiding!" Sheldon yelled.

"Sheldon! There isn't enough time to argue!" Amy leaned in close. "And stop screaming like that. We may not know exactly what the evil plan is yet, but it clearly involves taking over the addiction centers of all these people's brains. Once Snidely realizes we're not infected . . ." She let the sentence fall.

"But you never let me help! Just this once, I promise, we'll fight as partners. How hard can it be? It's just maple syrup."

Amy shook her head. "No. I save the world alone, remember?"

"But I hate waiting and being useless."

"Go, Sheldon." She pointed to the long white buffet table just in case he was confused about her order, which he certainly wasn't. "Hide silently under there and apply all your massive brain power to figuring out how to deactivate the nanobytes while I take care of Snidely." She put her hand on his cheek. "You're not useless to me, Sheldon. You never have been. Stay out of trouble, and, whatever you do, don't move or make a sound until I tell you to. Go."

A scream ripped through the air and Sheldon looked over Amy's shoulder to see a woman in a red ball gown take a bite of another woman's French toast stick; except it wasn't a French Toast stick, it was her finger. "Okay. Right. Hide. And pretend I never saw that."

Sheldon took Amy's hand from his cheek and brushed his lips along her knuckles before he scrambled under the white tablecloth, pulling it around him and hugging his knees to his chest. He curled up tight, watching the puddle of maple syrup spread under the table at the opposite end of the buffet. He was too tall for the cramped space, and he had to lower his head deeply between his knees; only to fit, he told himself, not because he was going to pass out or anything.

He peered under the hem of the tablecloth, which didn't quite reach the floor, and he tried to concentrate on Amy's high heels, watching them clatter away into the display area. Next he saw a flash of light, and he heard the heavy and sure footfalls of Wonder Amy's red leather boots even before he saw them.

"Snidely Whiplash!" He heard her deep voice boom, and he could see her clearly in his mind's eye: her stance would be wide, her hands curled on her waist, her armor glinting from the overhead lighting, her blue skirt falling around her hips. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Ah! Wonder Amy! We meet at last!" Sheldon heard him clearly, flinching at how close his voice was. He must be right by the table. "Will your friends be joining you, or did they send a little girl to do a man's job? Don't worry, I'm sure they'll show up later to rescue you."

Sheldon gasped and then muffled his own voice by biting into his knee. Oh, Snidely, he thought, that was a very bad idea. The red leather boots disappeared and instantly the table above him rumbled as Wonder Amy landed on it.

"No one rescues Wonder Amy!" Her voice bellowed, and the table shook around him, the cutlery and plates rattling. "What have you done to these people?"

"Nyahaahaaa!" Snidely laughed again. "Wouldn't you like to know? Even that famous metaphysicist, Dr. Cooper, couldn't figure it out." Sheldon's head popped up and hit the bottom of the table at the sound of his name. "He's at the bottom of that pile, with the rest of them, and soon he'll be under my control, too. Then we'll see if anyone is capable of saving you."

"Dr. Cooper?" He heard it in her voice, the tone of confidence wavering.

"Ah, yes! I forgot you know him, don't you? There was even a very famous kiss for all of the Internet to see a couple of years ago. Oh, and wasn't that who you danced with at the Wayne Enterprise's Superhero Gala?"

Sheldon groaned into his knees, and there was a stomp on the table directly above his head.

"Sheldon Cooper means nothing to me," Amy said. "And I danced with many people that night."

"Please don't lie," Snidely said. "It doesn't suit you. Unless that's what you tell yourself when you see him with that homely little wife of his."

"Hey!" Sheldon protested, the last of it muffled by another stomp on the table above his head.

"Hey!" Amy shouted over him. "I asked you a question. What is your plan, Snidely? Do you really think Dr. Cooper, at the bottom of that pile of humanity, won't determine exactly how your nanobytes work? I'm sure he's lying there silently, as we speak, already figuring it out."

Sheldon raised his eyebrows. Why was Amy playing along with the misguided charade that he was, in fact, infected and at the bottom of the pile, where no one could see him and - oh, yes. Silently working on the solution. Right. Amy was reminding him to be quiet and come up with answers.

He closed his eyes and thought to himself, Think. Think. Think.

"Nanobytes!" he heard Snidely say. "My, my, maybe you are more than just a pretty face and a fine bottom, after all."

Gritting his teeth at the thought that Snidely had ever so much as glanced at her bottom, Sheldon muttered, "Think, think."

The table shook again as Wonder Amy leapt off of it, and Sheldon ears heard the sound of a fist cracking into bone. At least, he assumed it was a fist after that comment. Bracing his hands over his ears, attempting to block out the sounds of the scuffle a few feet away, Sheldon instead tried to apply himself to the problem at hand. Ingestible nanobytes was his only theory, and he didn't have nearly enough data to even feel confident in that hypothesis. But it seemed as though Snidely had confirmed it. Or was he merely patronizing Amy, along with all his other misogynist slights?

He heard the crackle of her lasso and the shuffling of feet, the groans from both Snidely and Amy as they locked in battle. He tried to think, but his heart was pounding in his chest, fear rushing through his ears. This is exactly why he didn't need to know or see or hear what his wife did when she wasn't home. Waiting, he thought, was just as difficult as fighting. If only she'd let him help, then he could be fighting and not waiting.

And why hadn't Amy wrapped this thing up yet? Snidely was only a maple syrup tycoon and a Canadian! Shouldn't he be polite enough to surrender?

"Great Hera! You're one of them!" he heard Amy yell, and his head snapped up, hitting the underside of the table once more.

"What was that?" Snidely asked, and Sheldon sucked in his breath.

"It's your horrible minions, fighting each other!" Amy yelled. "You infected them and now they're fighting each other to the death."

It was true the groans and grumbling mass of people had been growing ever louder lately. Sheldon couldn't see them, but he could hear them clearly. Was Amy correct and they were fighting to death? The memory of the bitten finger popped up in his mind; wait! were they really attempting to eat each other like . . . like -

"Zombies!" he whispered yelled. The only certain way to kill a zombie was to sever its head. And Amy said Snidely was one of them, although how she knew that and how it manifested, he did not know. He had to find a way to get her attention, to find out what she meant by that so that he could determine exactly how -

Sheldon lifted the edge of the tablecloth and crawled out, unfolding and standing to take in the scene before him. And then he gasped.

Part of Snidely's face was ripped open revealing his bare white skull in a jagged line from the top of his head, across the bridge of his nose, and down to his cheek, just missing his mustache. The flap of skin hung from his jaw, but there was no blood visible. Almost as though it had never been real skin. Absurdly, his monocle still sat perched in his now exposed eye socket.

As ugly and as disturbing as that was, it was Amy's face that sent a shiver down Sheldon's spine. Her curled hair was tangled from the fight, and her visage was one of pure rage. Except it wasn't directed toward her enemy.

"Sheldon!" she yelled.

"Dr. Cooper!" Snidely boomed, stepping closer, even as the flap of loose skin jiggled grotesquely. "I thought you would be the last one standing, but I didn't plan on it being so soon."

"Then you don't know anything about me. There's no way I'd survive a zombie apocalypse." Sheldon stepped forward and sideways, trying to shield Amy behind him without appearing to actually do so. "I came to help Wonder Amy. We're a team."

Snidely rubbed his hands together in glee. "This is better than my wildest dreams! Maybe I was wrong, Wonder Amy, and you just might get your man after all. But only after I order him to do my biding, of course. Or -" his mustache quivered as his mouth formed a sneer "- maybe I'll use both of you. Dr. Cooper can be your carrot and I'll be the stick."

He raised his silver-handled walking stick and Sheldon ducked, only to hear the sound of a shattering pie plate and to smell quiche as it fell around him just before his world went black.

It was the sound of a train whistle in the distance that woke him, and Sheldon turned his head even before he opened his eyes. He had to tell Amy about this dream while he remembered it; although, she would probably just tell him to stop watching The Walking Dead before bed. His eyelids fluttering, Sheldon attempted to roll over, grunted in confusion, and then tried it again. But doing so only made his head hurt worse than it did. Why did he have such a pounding headache? Why couldn't he move? And why was he so uncomfortable? And cold?

Looking down, he saw he wasn't in his bed next to Amy. He was tied, very tightly, to something metal that cut into his shoulder blades and the soft skin of his calves. He realized it was metal rails with wooden ties in between. As in railroad ties, he thought, just as he looked up into the light of an approaching train engine.

To be continued . . .

I hope you enjoy this short and silly little peek into the marriage that is Wonder Shamy. Thank you in advance for your reviews!