Guys. I actually contributed something for the Fluff Crawlspace. Like, on time. This might be the greatest achievement of my life.

Hope you enjoy, and happy shamy tenth anniversary!

It was 8:52 p.m.

That meant it was two minutes past his regularly scheduled bathroom time. That meant he had yet to urinate before preparing for bed. That meant that currently his bladder was ready to burst at the seams, causing him to pace uncontrollably around his small bedroom as he waited for his wife to finish with whatever mysterious womanly things she did in the evenings.

He tried to be patient. Really, he did. He understood that was a key part to a successful marriage, to tolerate your spouse's annoying quirks even when they drove you to the brink of insanity. For the sake of love or something. But this was rapidly turning into a life or death situation, and a man can only take so much.

Knock, knock, knock. "Amy."

Knock, knock, knock. "Amy."

Knock, knock, knock. "Amy."

"Hold on, Sheldon. Just give me a minute."

But the last time Amy had told him "just a minute" it hadn't been just a minute. In fact, it had been nearly three minutes. Sheldon wasn't sure if he had three minutes.

It was now 8:54. Sheldon had six minutes before his and Amy's mutual bedtime, between which he had to use the toilet, brush his teeth, floss, and check his body for abnormal growths. He was left no choice but to do the unthinkable, to put his marriage to the test and hope it was strong enough to withstand it.

He needed to urinate in the presence of his wife.

"Amy, I'm coming in." And with that he turned the handle and barged through. He barely glanced at Amy as he moved to the toilet, and he was just about to lower his pajamas and destroy any lingering sense of mystery to their relationship when he realized what Amy was doing, which was… nothing.

Well, technically speaking it wasn't nothing. It was physically impossible to do nothing. But it seemed that she had barely even registered him entering, She was sitting on the lip of the bathtub, her curls fanning over her face as she gazed unseeingly into her lap, hands clutching at her nightgown.

Bathroom emergencies forgotten, Sheldon cautiously approached the inert shell that looked a whole lot like his wife. "Amy?"

Life seemed to whip back into her as she snapped up to meet her husband's eyes. "Sorry, what?"

Sheldon could practically feel the worry etching itself into his face. "Are you okay?"

Amy opened her mouth to reply, but just as quickly closed it again. She stared at him long and hard, a look that Sheldon recognized from months and years of watching her do science. She was weighing her options, going through every possible outcome in her head before making a decision.

Then at last, with shaking hands Amy smoothed out her nightgown and lifted the object hidden in its folds: long, white, plastic, and just about the most terrifying thing Sheldon had encountered in his life.

"I'm ten days late," Amy said quietly.

The shock of it all rooted Sheldon's feet to the spot, his eyes never leaving the pregnancy test in Amy's hand. They hadn't planned this. Talked about it, sure, but life still hadn't settled down after their Nobel win, all the interviews and photoshoots and conferences and lectures and... children haven't been a thought in his brain yet. They were always a part of their future, but that's where they've always remained- in the future. There was never a time that felt truly, unequivocally right to start trying for a baby, and it sure as holy heck didn't feel that way now.

"Sheldon, please say something."

Her words brought him back to the present, the harsh, harsh reality that was now staring him in the face. He felt his legs shuffle himself forward, and he slowly lowered himself beside her on the tub before they had the chance to give themselves out from under him. "What does it say?"

"I don't know yet, we have to wait five minutes for the result." Amy took a deep, steadying breath. "I know this is unexpected, and our lives are crazy right now, but... I really want this."

"Really?"

"Really." Amy's gaze fluttered down to her lap again, and when she spoke again it was barely above a whisper. "I just turned forty last month. I don't know how much longer we can wait for this."

Sheldon hadn't considered that. Amy had always been so willing to wait for him to be ready to move forward, but he had failed to realize that biology wouldn't be so patient.

Sheldon's gaze returned to the test, mercifully turned over so it wouldn't taunt them with the looming news that could change their lives forever. "I don't know what I'm feeling right now."

Amy looked at him, and the returning fear in her eyes made Sheldon wish he hadn't said anything. "Do you still want children?"

"Of course I do. But..." A million thoughts crashed into his head at once, of diapers and sleepless nights and screaming matches at three in the morning. "I think I was always so focused on the end result that I never considered the process it takes to get there. I don't know if I'm ready. I don't know if I'll ever be."

Amy stared at him for a long moment before rising from her seat, gently placing the test on the bathroom sink, and turning back to extend a hand out to him. "Come here. I want to show you something."

Sheldon took her hand without hesitation, and Amy led him to their bedroom and sat him on the edge of the bed. Then she pulled out her laptop and opened up a document before handing it over to him.

Sheldon was having trouble computing what was in front of him. "Is this a... spreadsheet?"

"Yes," Amy answered like it was the most natural thing in the world. "I started it not long after you asked me out."

It was possibly the most beautiful thing Sheldon had ever laid eyes on. Each slot had a different subject to be addressed- childbirth, diapers, sleep schedule, illnesses, among others- followed by a slew of potential solutions to mitigate each concern. And it didn't stop at infancy. Amy had accounted for every stage of their child's life, from elementary school bullies to teenage backtalk.

"Sheldon." He felt a hand cover his own. "I know this is scary, and I'm scared, too. But I want you to know that with any challenges you might encounter in raising a child, I'll be here to help you through it. And you'll be here to help me. We're in this together."

Sheldon's gaze shifted to above their headboard, where their Nobel medals hung proudly in joint frames on the wall. A physical reminder that together, the two of them could achieve anything they set their minds to.

Sheldon turned back to his wife. His beautiful, amazing, brilliant wife. He reached a hand up to tuck a short, stray curl behind her ear, another change that he had initially resisted but slowly grew to love as much as every other part of her. "Okay."

Amy drew in a breath, eyes lighting up with hope. "Okay?"

"Okay." His hand moved to gently hold her cheek. "Even if the test is negative, we can start trying. I guess there never really is a 'right time' for this sort of thing. There's always going to be something in the way. I may never be completely ready to have children, but I'll always be ready to start on a new adventure with you."

"Oh, Sheldon-" but she was interrupted by a sharp beeping from her watch. After silencing it, she turned back to him as her jitters returned full force. "It's time."

Together they stood and, hands still entwined, walked back into the bathroom. They took a moment to stare at the white stick on the sink, to savor what was perhaps their final moment in this stage of their lives. Then they approached the sink and each grabbed one end of the stick, giving each other one last look before turning it over.

"Wait, I can't tell if there's something there or not."

"Two lines means positive, right?"

"I thought it was a plus sign."

"Well, what brand is the test?"

"Hang on, let me get the box."

"Do you know how many times Penny's taken one of these? We have three doctorates between us, we shouldn't be having an issue."

"Okay, for this brand we're looking for a plus sign."

"Do you see anything?"

"I'm not sure. I might see something, but I also might not."

"How can you both see and not see something? Is this Schroedinger's pregnancy test?"

"Wait, wait, wait, I think the line's getting darker!"

"Really?"

"Yes! It's a plus sign, it's definitely a plus sign!"

"Oh, Amy." Sheldon crushed her against him, wrapping around her tightly, burying his face in her hair. He would've never expected it, but he was so, so happy. More than he'd ever been in his life. He was going to be a father. Amy was going to be a mother. They were going to have a baby.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

He felt a dampness on his shoulder where Amy's head was, but he didn't even care. Nothing could break this moment between them. Nothing whatsoever.

Well, except...

"Amy?"

"Mhmm?"

"Please leave now. I need to use the restroom."