Raj's sister Priya blew into town like a glamorous storm. A lawyer, she wore her confidence like a second skin and changed the feel of a room just by walking in. For Leonard, her arrival was a sudden, bright spotlight on a part of his past he'd mostly forgotten.
They had a short history. A couple of years ago, before Penny, there'd been a holiday party at Raj's. There was mistletoe, too much wine, and one very awkward, sloppy kiss that led to them spending the night together. They'd never spoken of it again, but it had lived in the back of Leonard's mind as a confusing "almost."
Now, she found him by the door of Raj and Sheldon's office.
"Leonard Hofstadter. Look at you. All grown up and… respectable." Her smile was knowing. "I like it."
He felt himself blush, a stupid, automatic reaction. Priya was stunning and sure of herself in a way that felt dangerous. For a second, the quiet, steady thing he had with Amy seemed pale in comparison.
"My hotel is a few blocks away," she said, her voice low. "Infinitely better than Raj's couch. Come have a real drink."
The old Leonard, the one who always felt lucky just to be noticed, might have stumbled after her. But he thought of Amy. He thought of how she listened, really listened, and how she never made him feel like he was auditioning. He took a breath.
"I can't, Priya. I'm with someone. Her name is Amy."
Priya's smile didn't drop, but it became cooler, more polite. "Amy," she repeated. "Well. Good for you."
The trouble really started the next night, at a group dinner. Priya had spent the day watching, and now she fixed her sights on Amy. She looked her over with a lawyer's assessing eye.
"So, Amy," Priya said, her tone sweetly curious. "Raj says you're a brain scientist. That must be so… intense. All those hours in a lab. Don't you miss being around people?"
Amy looked up. "My colleagues are people. Highly intelligent ones."
"Of course," Priya said, with a light laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "It's just so impressive, how dedicated you are. Some women need so much—the right outfits, the hair, all that work. It's nice to see someone who doesn't bother with all that."
The table went quiet. Bernadette stopped smiling. Penny's eyes flashed.
Amy's face, usually so still, showed a crack. Her cheeks went faintly pink. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin, a slow, precise movement.
"My work requires practicality," she said, her voice carefully even. "And I find conversations that are only about putting someone down to be a waste of time."
She stood. "Please excuse me."
She walked out, back straight, but everyone could see the hurt in the quick click of her heels on the floor.
Leonard started to get up, his face twisted with guilt.
"Let her have a minute, Leonard," Priya said smoothly, swirling her wine. "I'm sure she needs to think. All that brainpower must get tiring."
Out in the hall, Amy wasn't crying. She was standing by the stairwell, arms crossed tightly, as if she were cold.
"Amy, I'm sorry, she's just—"
"She's not wrong," Amy said, cutting him off. Her voice was small. "I don't dress for fashion. My features are not movie-star features. Those are facts."
She finally looked at him, and the confusion in her eyes was worse than anger. "But she didn't say them to be factual. She said them to be mean. That's the part that I don't understand."
"You're not hearing me," Leonard said, running a hand through his hair. "I don't see what she sees."
Inside 4B, Penny and Bernadette huddled together, fuming.
"What a witch," Bernadette whispered hotly.
"She's punishing Amy because Leonard picked her," Penny muttered back. "It's disgusting."
Sheldon found Leonard later, miserably staring into the fridge.
"You're in distress," Sheldon noted.
"Priya's a nightmare! And I just sat there like an idiot!"
"It's simple," Sheldon said, leaning against the counter. "Priya is like a very bright, flashing sign. Easy to see. Loud. Amy is more like… a good book. The value isn't on the cover, but in the pages. You got distracted by the flashy exterior because that's what you desired prior to meeting Amy. Your history with your choice of women prove it. Joyce Kim, Dr. Winkle, and you failed quest for Penny. Now you need to go back and finish the book. And maybe… dog-ear a page, so you remember where you are."
Leonard stared at him. That was the least scientific, most oddly perfect thing Sheldon had ever said.
The next night, Penny and Bernadette had a "girls' night" at Penny's apartment, expressly to cheer Amy up. They were in pajamas, eating ice cream straight from the carton, and watching an old movie.
There was a knock on the door. It was Leonard, looking nervous and holding a single, slightly wilted sunflower.
"Hey," he said, his eyes finding Amy curled in the corner of the couch. "Can I… talk to you? For a second?"
Amy looked at Penny, who gave her an encouraging nod. She followed Leonard out into the quiet hallway.
"I brought you this," he said, thrusting the flower at her. "Sunflowers are heliotropic. They track the sun. I read that. It seemed… relevant."
Amy took the flower, her expression unreadable.
"I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I'm sorry she was so awful to you. And I'm sorry if I made you feel, even for a second, like she was right."
He took a step closer. "She's not. You're amazing. You're smart, and you're funny, and you're the only person I know who actually understands what I'm talking about half the time. And I think you're beautiful. I really do."
Amy looked down at the sunflower, then back up at him, her eyes shimmering just a little. "That is a significantly better apology than your previous attempt."
"Good," Leonard breathed. And then, very gently, he cupped her face and kissed her. It was a soft, sincere kiss, full of everything he'd been too flustered to say.
When he pulled back, Amy looked slightly dazed. "Oh," she said softly.
"Was that okay?"
"Yes," she said, a real smile finally breaking through. "That was… more than okay."
Inside, Penny and Bernadette had been shamelessly eavesdropping by the door. They shared a wide, triumphant grin.
Back in his own apartment, Sheldon was aligning his next day's schedule on his clipboard. He heard Leonard come back in, humming a quiet, tuneless song. Sheldon didn't look up, but he gave a small, satisfied nod. The emotional variable had been successfully recalculated. Order, in its own messy way, was restored.