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CHAPTER 29

Apartment 314 technically belongs to Amy. Her name is on the lease, the furnishings are hers, she pays the rent, and Sheldon has his own living area ten miles away. These facts in no way deter him from treating her place as his own.

After awakening early on Saturday morning, Sheldon begins to make himself at home once again. When he showers, he helps himself to her girly smelling shower gel, and when he brushes his teeth, he doesn't hesitate to make use of her toothpaste. He has his own toothbrush, of course, and he is careful to squeeze the tube of toothpaste from the bottom. While he may be invading her living space, he isn't a savage.

Right on schedule, he progresses to his breakfast preparations, raiding her cabinet for cereal, her refrigerator for milk, and her cable television for this week's episodes of Doctor Who. All the while, he elects to leave Amy peacefully sleeping in bed. He learned many weeks ago that it is unwise to wake her up too early on the weekend.

Somewhere in the middle of the third commercial break of the second episode, he hears stirring sounds from the other room. Her footsteps are quiet down her short hallway, and he swallows hard, bracing himself for what she might have to say to him this morning. She doesn't even poke her head into the room when she walks by, though. In fact, she doesn't waver from her path at all, and the only sound that comes from her mouth is a breathy yawn.

Perhaps she is still too groggy to notice what he has done.

Fifteen minutes later, she does enter the room, sporting wet hair and a fluffy white robe. She takes a seat right next to him on the couch, and she folds her little arms over her chest while raising an eyebrow at him. He turns off the television and sets the remote aside, preparing himself once again.

Amy stares at him, not saying a single word, so he decides he'd best be the one to begin. "Good morning, Amy. Did you know that you've been sleeping through a truly classic episode of Doctor Who?"

"Really? That's what you want to talk about? I would think you should have something much more important that you need to say to me."

He clears his throat. Of course she isn't going to make this easy for him. Sometimes she is the most impossible woman. "Did you have something specific in mind?"

She purses her lips and says, "I would think it should be quite obvious."

"Well, it sounds like you aren't upset about me watching this particular show without you, but I'm not sure it's a wise idea to try to read your mind. The fact is that you could be thinking about any number of things. Maybe you'd like to talk about how well I've optimized the storage space in your closet, for example."

Amy shakes her head no. He tries again. "Perhaps you were planning to eat cereal for breakfast, and you've noticed the empty box and milk carton in your recycling bin."

"No, that's not it either."

"I see. Well, it's also possible that you'd like to discuss last night. This seems like a fine time for you to tell me how I'm an amazing lover who has brought you to heights of ecstasy that you've never known before."

Their first encounter may have been less than optimal, but she certainly hadn't voiced any complaints. In fact, he doesn't think he has ever seen her that happy before. For that matter, he doesn't ever recall being that happy himself, either.

His most recent guess makes her grin, but her voice sounds solemn when she looks into his eyes and says, "Sheldon, you are an amazing lover who has brought me to heights of ecstasy that I have never known before."

He bobs his head. Of course he is. Amy is still smiling when she continues, "But that's not what I think you and I have to discuss."

She's definitely going to make things difficult. He's sure of it now.

With one arched eyebrow, she slowly crosses her right leg over her left. "So I was half asleep this morning while going through my morning ablutions," she begins.

Holding up her left hand, she starts wiggling a finger while she adds, "Though I was busy soaping myself in the shower, I was not so comatose as to miss the reflection of light off my shiny new piece of jewelry."

Stuffing aside any thoughts of Amy soaping herself, Sheldon knows he should be paying attention to the engagement ring issue. "Oh, that. It seems you were correct that everything this morning is quite obvious."

"Is that so?" She puts her hand back in her lap and continues, "I don't see how. With this ring appearing on my finger overnight, I'm not sure if I should jump to conclusions. I've been told that I do that, you see. Anyway, perhaps it might be a secret decoder ring."

He sighs, recognition sweeping over him that she is going to make use of the same deflection method that he just demonstrated. She continues, "If not that, maybe this ring is a token of friendship, somewhat analogous to an ornate friendship bracelet."

"That's not what it is."

"Mmm. I suppose it could also be one of your superhero props. Perhaps you intend to see if it will bring me powers like the Green Arrow."

Ugh, why does she always get these things wrong? He sputters, "Amy, don't be ridiculous. That's the Green Lantern. Besides, it is obviously an engagement ring. It's got a diamond on it, and it isn't even green."

"An engagement ring?" He sees her wide eyes and open mouth, but there's no way that she is genuinely surprised. She knew about the ring, so it seems more probable that she's teasing him. He becomes certain of it when she adds, "That's funny, I don't remember any kind of proposal. This is a not so subtle hint of your marital intentions, is it not?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's certainly a unique way of going about things. Is there a reason why you didn't simply ask me?"

Sheldon sighs. "From what I can tell, there is no such thing as asking that question in a simple fashion. In books, television, and all forms of media, proposals are full of sappy sentimentality and romantic drivel. That isn't me."

He isn't sure why his confession makes her smile again. "I'm not so sure about that," she says.

Folding his arms over his chest in defiance, he insists, "Well I am. For example, it didn't even occur to me to bring you flowers when you were injured and in the hospital. That's a common social convention, as your mother later reminded me. Admittedly, I fail to see how cutting a living thing and bringing you its corpse so that you can watch it wither and decay is supposed to aid anyone in healing. But still, that's not the point."

"Okay, what is the point, then? You've clearly decided that you'd like to get married. How is that not romantic?"

"Marriage isn't some melodramatic flight of fancy, Amy. Romance is baffling to me, but commitment, homeostasis, and legal constraints are worth striving for. Hence, marriage."

She cocks her head and stares at him in silence. After a minute or so he cracks. "You're going to make me ask you, aren't you?"

With a slow nod, she smirks. "I am. You must be pretty confident of my answer for you to have taken the liberty of putting it on for me in advance."

His confidence had been sky high, but her teasing is starting to make him sweat a bit. "You wouldn't actually turn me down, would you?"

Her grin widens. "If you don't ask, how will you ever find out?"

After taking a deep, fortifying breath, he concedes. "Very well. As you wish."

Twisting his body to face her more completely, he takes her ringed hand. "Amy, I'm not a typical man, nor are you a typical woman, so would you not deny us both the honor of no longer being merely my girlfriend, and indeed avoid disagreeing with me about the fact that we should no longer procrastinate our inevitable marital union?"

Her squinty eyes and speechlessness don't tell him much. This could be one of those moments when she is struck silent in awe of his intellect. Or perhaps it's something else. Her answer is slow in coming, and of course it isn't a simple yes or no.

"I'm not sure that I can parse that grammatical train wreck enough to know if an affirmative answer would mean what I think it would mean. Try again, Sheldon."

He can't stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Fine. You know, you are truly impossible at times. I suppose there is no reason to let that stop me now, though."

Clearing his throat, he stops sputtering and manages to ask her using a serious voice. "Amy, will you marry me, engulfing us both in the comfort of numerous contractual obligations?"

This time Amy responds by wrapping her arms around his shoulders, squeezing him in one of her python-style hugs. "Yes! You know I will." His arms are trapped, but he is able to wiggle his hands and bend his elbows enough to pat at her hips in return.

When she releases him, she grabs his cheeks instead, pulling him down at the same time as she leans up to plant a kiss on his lips. The kiss lasts long enough that he is starting to wonder how best to go about suggesting some fornication to mark the occasion.

Amy pulls back but shifts her grabby hands down to take hold of his. "See? You're not devoid of romance. You only require someone who is smart enough to recognize the particular way that you choose to express it."

She must be crazy. Maybe her mother never had her tested. "Sheldon Cooper doesn't do romance."

For some reason, those words make her giggle. "You just did. You gave me this beautiful ring, and your proposal was both memorable and touching."

Her kind words make him squirm. He in no way intended to be sappy. Thinking back on his phrasing, he can't recall anything other than a logical recitation of factual information. But then again, maybe she can appreciate simple truths in ways that other people cannot. If she wants to call it romance, perhaps he shouldn't quibble.

"I can see your skepticism, Sheldon. But even before you proposed, your first notable action of the day was when you turned off Doctor Who to talk to me. I know how ingrained your habits are and how attached you are to your schedule. And I'm not only talking about the show this morning. You've been uprooting your life for the past month and a half, not to mention the past five years. Recently you've been staying in my apartment in spite of the fact that you must miss the familiarity of 4A. That tells me that you're here because you think that you would miss me even more."

She moves a hand onto each of his cheeks again and leans her forehead against his. Her words all ring true to him, so he tries to nod. He can't really move very much with his face smooshed between her two hands, though.

She hasn't stopped talking. "The choices and changes you've made for me tell me everything that I need to know. So you are welcome to leave the flowers to the earth, I would abhor it if you started talking like some male lead in a maudlin movie, and we both know that we would land in a heap on the floor if you tried to sweep me off my feet. I am a practical woman, and I am perfectly happy with you just as you are."

This time he is the one who closes the distance to kiss her. If she is able to consider practicality and logic as some form of romance, then she has found herself the right man for the job. He pulls her in closer, and the tie on her fuzzy robe starts to loosen.

The proximity of her body reminds him of the previous evening's most recent change. He stops kissing her long enough to ask, "Amy, how does a practical man of science best suggest a morning of pair-bonded copulation? It would result in the release of dopamine, activating the reward centers of the brain that enhance our interpersonal attachment, and it's good for the cardiovascular system at the same time."

Her eyes widen and her cheeks start to turn pink. "Um, what you just said? That request will do nicely."

Amy stands up quickly, every bit as fast he does. Pleased to find that she is sold on the idea and that she is exhibiting similar degrees of enthusiasm, he takes her hand and starts walking towards her room. Her previous assurance that she would not want to be carried is a relief. This is no time to be thwarted by another injury to either of their persons.

Last night, her room was lit with the muted golden hue of her indoor lighting. Even with her curtains closed, today her room is lit by the white light of the sun that sneaks around the edges.

Yesterday night's encounter has given him a great deal of confidence in spite of the fact that he finished a little sooner than he had intended. Maybe it was flawed, but they both had a fine time regardless. Now that he knows how to touch her and she knows how to touch him, there's a lot less mystery between them, and he doesn't feel even the slightest bit of uncertainty. Whatever modesty he may have had the previous evening flew away forever at the moment she first wrapped her little hand around his—

Sheldon shuts down the memory before it can even get started. He has no regrets about last night, but he doesn't want to get too far ahead of her, especially if it might increase the risk of another unintentional misfire.

Amy stands next to him near the edge of her bed, and as far as he can tell, she doesn't have a speck of nervousness left either. She licks her lips and runs her finger down the center of his t-shirt covered chest. "You're going to miss the end of Doctor Who."

"That's okay. I can find that episode online later. But we ought to set up your DVR to record these kinds of things. It's good to broaden your entertainment horizons."

A smile grows on her face. "I'm all for broadening my horizons, but there are other forms of entertainment that interest me more at this time."

That's too bad. She really shouldn't miss out on the joys of this unparalleled form of sci-fi. "Are you sure? It is an excellent show."

"I'm very sure."

At that, she stands on her toes and wraps her arms up around his shoulders. It doesn't take a genius to know that he should lean down for her. When he does, she kisses his lips, swiping at him a little bit with her tongue. As she pulls away, she adds one brief suck to his bottom lip.

Her voice sounds breathy when she says, "I would vastly prefer some Doctor Cooper viewing over Doctor Who."

Oh. He has no desire to argue against that. "I see. In a similar sense, I must admit that I would prefer a private showing of Doctor Farrah Fowler."

"Well, you can't look me up on the internet later, that's for sure. I think you've made a wise choice." Reaching for the fuzzy tie that loosely holds her robe closed, she adds, "This must be your lucky day."

Sheldon swallows against the sudden dryness in his throat and watches her ditch the robe, revealing that she did not get dressed at all after her shower. Her complete lack of modesty is welcome, as is the fact that he won't have to figure out how to get her out of a bra. Those contraptions are bizarre.

"Are you okay?" she asks, jarring him from his contemplation of the curve of her hips and thighs. He must have been staring at her for too long without doing anything.

Instead of offering her a verbal response, he decides to demonstrate exactly how okay he is. In one quick motion, he lifts both of his shirts off over his head, and then in a much more gentle fashion, he pulls her against his body so that he can feel the warmth of her chest against his.

When she unbuckles his belt and starts removing his pants, the action reminds him of what he has hidden away in his pocket. He never got far enough yesterday, but today he should ask.

"Amy, I borrowed some condoms from Leonard's room. I don't know if you want me to use them or not."

His pants are around his ankles, and Amy seems to be having a great time touching his rear end over his underwear. He would prefer that she continue the motions, but she pauses at his question. Her head is right under his chin, so he can't see her until she leans back.

"Disease is a complete non-issue for us. And this being a week after egg retrieval, there is zero risk of pregnancy." She shrugs and starts fondling his buttocks again, although this time she tucks her hands past his waistband to make contact with his bare skin. "I'd say it's up to you. I'm comfortable with whatever you decide."

Using one would surely make things tidier, and he has heard that they reduce sensation, which might also be a useful thing. Given the choice, however, it's an easy no. He is more than tired of trying to dull any of these feelings with Amy, and the faster his heart races, the less he finds himself caring about any kind of mess. Besides, when he explored the area with his fingers yesterday, he could not stop imagining the exact same sensation on the most sensitive area of his body.

His thoughts are spiraling away again, aided by the enticing rubbing of her hands. He can't even think about Star Trek anymore to calm down. She annihilated that chaste distraction by muttering Klingonese pleas to a non-existent deity in the midst of her climax yesterday. He hopes he won't blush every time he watches an episode in the future.

When she begins tugging on his waistband, he carefully pulls her hands away and says, "Um, not quite yet."

Never one to be sloppy, Amy must have taken the time to make up the bed this morning. He has to yank down the comforter as well as the sheets to make a space for them, and she raises an eyebrow at his abrupt movements.

She lies flat with her head on a pillow, and he can't think of a single reason not to follow her down. He uses his newfound skills to kiss her face, her mouth, and her neck, and he caresses her with the same light touches that made her start squirming last night. Working his way down her chest, he appreciates the sight of her breasts in the natural light of day and then explores the tip of each one with his mouth.

Once she starts wiggling around and getting handsy with his hair, he feels confident that it's time to get to work on her pudendal nerve. Amy makes it obvious for him when he is getting things right, panting and thrusting her hips towards his hand. It seems prudent to make sure that she reaches orgasm before they attempt intercourse. His research has been quite clear that a woman's first experience with penetration doesn't always go well, and he can't stand the idea that she might end up disappointed.

He kisses her mouth while he stimulates her with his fingers, and he can feel her little fingernails start digging into his shoulders. A short time later she groans into his open mouth, and it seems like every muscle in her body tenses and relaxes as she finishes.

If he could have kept himself from grinding his pelvis against her thigh, if he could stop imagining the squeezing pull on his fingers happening to a different appendage, and if he could make himself stop staring at the look of relaxed pleasure on her face, then maybe it would be possible to make himself slow down. He can't. The hindbrain wants what the hindbrain wants.

The only thing he can do is roll away from her and start dragging his underwear down his legs. Next to him, Amy is still breathing hard, but she turns on her side to face him. He watches the way her eyes widen and how she briefly licks her lips when she looks down to where he has finished undressing.

He clears his throat so that he can try to speak, but he can only manage a few short sentences. "You wanted me to lead first yesterday. Right now I want you to."

"How?"

"However you want."

She blows out a sharp breath and agrees. "Okay."

While eyeing the length of his body, she gets up onto her knees. Perhaps it would be a good idea to tell her one other important thing.

"Um, just… soon, please."

Without hesitation, she crosses one knee over his body to straddle his hips, and he is left with no option but to close his eyes. He hopes that she will understand why he can't watch her do this. A man can only take so many stimuli at once.

Her soft hands brush across his abdomen, and he pathetically whispers, "Sooner."

Amy giggles, but more importantly, he can feel her very wet hand wrapping around his penis. The sensation makes him squeak, an embarrassing sound, but at least it doesn't deter her. Curious about why her hand is so wet, he chances a quick glance. Of course. She made use of her own abundant moisture. He sees her do it a second time, reaching down between her legs and then rubbing the shiny substance she retrieves onto him.

Having seen far too much, he slams his eyes closed a second time and is reduced to begging. "Much, much sooner."

At his words, she lifts up, and he feels the hot sensation of her body at his tip. His breath catches in his throat while hers does the opposite, blowing out in a long exhale as she starts pressing him into her. After only a few inches, she stops and leans her body down onto his torso. Her breasts are soft against him, and her breathing is hot on his neck.

She whispers into his ear, "Sheldon, open your eyes."

His eyes snap open at her command. He couldn't possibly disobey because he can't think beyond the intense desire to shove his hips up into her. It takes his full concentration to hold back while instinct screams at him to move. Once he is looking at her, she smiles and finishes sliding down onto him. Her eyes grow wide as she does it, but he only has the briefest thought of how this must be for her before his own senses assault him. Jesus.

Sheldon is not a religious man. This experience, however, is transcendent. It is beyond anything that he expected, and they have barely even begun. Amy freezes once he is in her as far as he can go. Once again, he can't fight the urge to close his eyes against the rush of sensation, and for reasons unknown to him, his mind continues to churn out exclamations to deities that he does not believe in.

Yahweh. Abba. Jehovah. Allah… His subconscious blasphemes away while his fingers dig into the soft skin of her thighs.

Vishnu. Shiva. Brahma. Shakti… Amy slides her hands through his hair and kisses him gently on the lips. He feels her soft mouth slide across his cheek and brush his ear as she whispers a question. "Sheldon, are you ready for me to move?"

He jerks his head in the negative. If she does that, this will all be over. He wants to explain to her why moving is not yet an option, but he can only groan out nonsense while his brain keeps uselessly sputtering.

Odin. Zeus. Jupiter. Ra…

Down below, Amy wriggles her hips a tiny bit, and the simple movement makes him gasp and grab her rear end. His eyes open wide at the stimulus, and his mind breaks out of its odd chanting.

Above him, Amy's cheeks are flushed pink and her hair is a glorious mess. On her nose, the frame of her glasses rests slightly askew. He stretches his hand up to straighten them for her, not wanting her to miss seeing a thing. Concentrating on her face is proving to be a useful distraction. He feels able to ignore the persistent, greedy rush in his groin enough to attempt moving now.

Unsure of what to do, his first nudge upward is hesitant. Amy is just as new to this, and she begins to move her hips up and down in a slow, careful motion. Sheldon automatically thrusts up to meet each one of her downward motions, which seems like the natural thing to do. She grunts every time he does it, and the eager sound is tremendously reassuring.

In a slow and steady fashion, they work into a stronger rhythm. His body still seems desperate to embarrass him, but Sheldon finds that he can stave it off by continuing to focus on the details of her face. There's the sharp arch of her eyebrows, the perfect straightness of her teeth, the peculiar, yet alluring shape of her nose. He stretches his neck to place a quick kiss on its bend.

Amy stretches too, meeting his mouth with hers in an intense kiss. When she breaks away, she pushes against his shoulders, sitting up against him with her hands on his torso for balance. This forms a new, acute angle where they meet, and he can't stop himself from pressing up harder inside of her. She gasps at the increased pressure, but he recognizes the sound as the one she makes in response to a pleasurable sensation.

He has been trying to resist, trying to let her move as she chooses, but he suddenly finds himself grabbing hold of her hips and pulling her down harder. His mind starts reeling again. God. Elohim. Adonai…

A man on a mission, Sheldon forces the fog to clear enough that he can release his hold on her hips. It isn't easy. In order to do so, he focuses on Amy's body again and returns his hand to its previous journey. He reaches the softness of her breasts, the smooth, gentle roundness of her belly, and the flared, feminine curve of her hips.

Finally his eyes land on the site where they are joined. He is glad that he was able to tamp down the lust well enough that he did not have to deny himself this particular vision. He can't make himself look away now as he watches his body sliding into hers and then back out again. Over and over, it is a mesmerizing sight.

He shifts his hand just below her belly button and presses down gently. Her lower abdominal muscles feel hard, stiffened by her efforts, and in his mind's eye, he pictures just how far into her body he must be going. He could swear he feels himself grow even larger at the thought, and he pushes even more firmly up into her.

Amy cries out again, but from the way her body tightens it's grip on him and the familiar tone of her voice, he knows that it is still pleasure and not pain. Her breathing has grown ragged and she growls his name, "Sheldon…"

He wasn't expecting it, but it appears that she is almost there again. Unfortunately, he doesn't think that he can hold back much longer. She takes his hand and not-so-gently reminds him of where he ought to be moving it.

Sheldon is more than happy to oblige, and to his relief, he finds that trying to coordinate his hand and his hips is just the final distraction he needs. It is also precisely the stimulus that Amy must need, because he hears her gasps increase in frequency. She flops back down onto his chest leaving his hand squeezed awkwardly between them. He feels like he might sprain his wrist like this, but he doesn't even consider moving away from where she needs him.

His height makes it impossible for him to reach her lips without stretching, but this is Amy, and he will contort himself in any way for her. She runs her hands through his hair and her final cries of pleasure reverberate through his mouth while they kiss. Her entire body stiffens as she climaxes, causing her fingers to curl up, and he suspects that she may have taken a few tufts of his hair with her. That's okay. She's more than worth it.

Their movements have slowed, and it allows him to enjoy the lingering, pulsing squeezes of her body around his. When her eyes are able to focus again, she looks at him with astonishment. Sheldon has never felt so powerful in his life.

Then, he watches as a smile grows on her face. It is the biggest, happiest look he has seen from her yet, and it is this final stimulus that pushes him to the unstoppable edge.

He kisses her sloppily and resumes thrusting up into her in an equally awkward fashion. The desperate, burning need is back, and Sheldon has no intention of stifling it for a second longer, not that he even could if he tried. He no longer fights the urge to grab her hips at this point either.

It would be almost scary in its intensity if he weren't experiencing it with Amy. With her, there is nothing but pleasure and the sight of her satisfied grin that borders on laughter. His mind clears as he finally lets himself go.

This time there are no deities flitting through his mind. All there is now is Amy. Amy. Amy.

She presses a soft kiss to his lips, and they slow their breathing together in a tangled, sweaty mess of limbs. Eventually, she slides off of him to lie sideways, half of her body still draped across his, and she leaves one arm wrapped around his midsection, squeezing him from time to time in a one-armed hug.

It takes time to regain control of his higher brain functions, but once he can think clearly again, he starts to feel like he should say something meaningful after an experience like that. If there's an exact right thing to say, though, he has no clue what it would be. He decides to simply go for the first thing that comes to mind.

"I wouldn't have thought it possible, but I enjoyed that even more that I thought I would."

Amy is still smiling, and she squeezes him yet again. "Me too."

Sheldon returns her grin as well as her hug. "And I look forward to tonight when we do it again."

He briefly wonders if that was too presumptuous, but her response comes strong and sure. "That works for me."

End.

Note: I'm sad to have hit the end, but that's all I've got. I hope you enjoyed the pot o' smut at the end of the plot rainbow!

Many thanks again to QBMaja for going over all of these chapters in advance. Reading through over 100k words was no small feat, and her helpful comments made this a better story, for sure.

Categorizing and summarizing this behemoth was quite a challenge since it kind of ran the full gamut of drama, humor, suspense, and romance. I know it was a long, strange journey, but even after all of the events in this story, I like to think that the fundamental traits of the characters were left largely unchanged, or at least I hope so.

Thanks to all of you who made it through to the end. I'm always interested to know what readers think, so if you feel like commenting, I'd be happy to hear from you.