Medical Center.
VIP Ward.
"Alright, Sheldon, enough already. Why don't you write a paper about it?" Adam cut off Sheldon's endless rambling. "That way, we can all read your brilliant analysis over and over again."
"Great idea!" Sheldon paused, then pointed a finger at Adam before turning to the group. "I'll email it to you all when it's done. Make sure you read it, okay?"
"Of course," Adam said, shooting everyone a quick wink.
The group caught on fast and chimed in with enthusiastic agreement.
"Satisfied now?" Adam grinned.
"Hmph." Sheldon shook his head, wagging a finger with a smug, I-see-through-you look. "Nice try, but you're not fooling me. I've got all your email addresses, but I still don't have Cousin Emilia's or Aunt Beattie's!"
"Oh my God, just give it to him already!" Missy groaned, slapping her forehead.
"Just say it out loud," Adam said to Emilia, who was about to grab a pen and paper. "Sheldon'll remember it."
"Obviously," Sheldon said, tapping his temple confidently. "This brain never forgets."
"I can vouch for that!" Sheldon's grandma said with a self-deprecating chuckle. "This brain of his is so powerful, you'd never believe it."
Adam smirked knowingly.
Sheldon's grandma was still salty about how he'd used that genius brain of his to memorize her secret smoked brisket recipe—and then handed it over to her son-in-law. That recipe? Her son-in-law had begged her for it for over a decade, and she'd never budged. She couldn't stand the little punk who'd won over her precious daughter with nothing but a beat-up motorcycle.
In sitcom world, recipes like that get passed down through generations. It should've gone to her daughter, Mary. But out of spite for her son-in-law, she'd refused to share it.
Sheldon's dad, who was obsessed with that mouthwatering brisket, even stooped to sneaking into his mother-in-law's house to steal the recipe. Total bust, though—it only existed in her head.
When she found out about the break-in, Sheldon's grandma got her revenge. She sat him down for a "heartfelt" chat, pretending to bury the hatchet, and gave him a fake recipe. The ingredients were a nightmare to track down—hundreds of miles away—and the cooking process was pure torture. But that brisket was so good, Sheldon's dad swallowed his doubts, drove all over creation for the spices, stayed up all night brushing oil on the meat, just for one glorious meal.
Spoiler: it was a disaster. He was furious. He kicked her out of the house, banned her from eating there, and basically declared war.
But Sheldon's grandma? She wasn't scared of anyone. Bring it on! Poor Mary, stuck between her mom and her husband, was in a total bind. The Cooper family vibes were tense.
Sheldon, who hated the drama, suddenly remembered something from when he was a baby. His grandma, feeding him that famous brisket, had bragged about the recipe, teasing, "Don't you dare tell anyone! Oh wait, you're not even two—you can't tell anyone!"
Big mistake.
You can lock the doors, but you can't stop a genius-level house thief. Baby Sheldon, with his photographic memory, had it all locked in crystal clear. He just didn't think about it much—until he did. One little spark, and boom, the recipe was out.
At first, Sheldon's dad claimed he didn't care anymore. He even used Missy as an example, saying he got why his mother-in-law hated him—he was a dad to a daughter now too. Grandma forgave him for knocking up Mary with that junky motorcycle. They hugged it out. He said her forgiveness meant more than any recipe.
That night, though? He strong-armed Sheldon into spilling the real one.
Years later, after Sheldon's dad passed, his grandma muttered, "Well, now the recipe's mine again," earning some major side-eye from Mary.
Emilia rattled off her email.
"Anything else?" Little George said, dripping with sarcasm.
Sheldon shook his head.
"Wait!"
Just as everyone started to head out, he piped up again.
"What now?!" Little George glared at his troublemaker little brother.
"Mom," Sheldon turned to Mary. "I've met Cousin Emilia, I've given her the gift. Can I go home now?"
"No way," Mary frowned. "Go have fun at the party! Look, your good friends Peggy and Adam are here. Why're you in such a rush to leave?"
"What's fun about a party?" Sheldon scoffed. "It's not even a costume party. And Peggy and Adam? They've changed."
"Changed how?" Missy asked, throwing some fuel on the fire as she eyed Peggy and Adam, who'd been glued together the whole time.
"Ahem," Adam jumped in before Sheldon could say something mortifying. "Sheldon, it's not a costume party, but there's an award ceremony!"
"An award for what?" Sheldon perked up instantly.
"Best Smile," Adam said, totally serious. "First prize is the latest Thomas the Tank Engine."
"The latest Thomas the Tank Engine?" Sheldon's hands clasped together in front of him, his eyes wide with nervous excitement.
"Yup. Wanna compete?" Adam grinned.
"Yeah~!" Sheldon leapt up, flashing his brightest smile.
"Keep that smile going," Adam pointed at him. "I think it's got championship potential."
"Like this?" Sheldon's grin froze, terrified of messing it up. It went from natural to stiff, from dazzling to downright creepy.
"Relax a little—you've got this," Adam said with a chuckle, glancing at Mary's darkening face. He grabbed Sheldon and steered him outside.
---
At the party, Adam danced with Peggy first, then got dragged onto the floor by Missy. After that, Emilia shyly asked him for a dance to say thanks.
But Adam wasn't the only star of the show. Someone else, not even in the center of the dance floor, kept stealing everyone's attention.
Sheldon. With that terrifying smile plastered on his face.
Finally, Missy couldn't take it anymore and begged Adam to hand out the nonexistent award early. Good thing Adam had already sent Lisa to buy the prize.
The second Sheldon got his hands on it, the creepy grin vanished. He swapped it for a genuine, happy smile, playing with his Thomas engine while chatting with Peggy.
The party was buzzing—tons of medical staff showed up thanks to Adam, and one by one, they lined up to dance with him. After another spin on the floor, Adam noticed Sheldon and Peggy bickering. He apologized to a nurse mid-invite and hurried over.
"What's up?"
"Control your woman!" Sheldon barked, eyes bulging. "You know what she said? I kindly invited her to ditch this place and hit up a comic store with me—way more fun—and she told me going to a comic store is a total waste of my intellect!"
Adam glanced at Peggy.
She shrugged.
"Adam, you tell me," Sheldon huffed. "But before you do, know this: I'm really mad about this. So every word you say, if it's not 100% heartfelt support for me, our friendship's gonna have issues. The blacklist's watching you. Keep an open mind. Go!"
"Oh, wow… I'm with Peggy on this one," Adam said, laughing.
"Watch it, Adam!" Sheldon warned. "My enemies' friends are my enemies too!"
"For real?" Adam grinned.
"Absolutely," Sheldon said, dead serious. "You're either with me or against me!"
"You know, as the party organizer, I do have the power to revoke the Best Smile award—and the prize," Adam said, smirking at the Thomas engine Sheldon was clutching like his life depended on it.
"…"
Sheldon froze, hugging the train tighter. After a few stunned seconds, he muttered, "Maybe there's a third option."
(End of Chapter)