A/N: Some semi-smut, semi-fluff goodness to celebrate the amazing things coming our way. Shamy's back, y'all!

Warning: Slight spoilers for S09E11 The Opening Night Excitation. And smut. Don't read if you don't like it.

"So," Amy chirped as she closed the door behind her, "That wasn't so bad."

Sheldon's back was turned to her, but she could see him roll his eyes as surely as she would have, had she been looking at his face.

"My brother got drunk and broke up with his girlfriend of the month, my mother invited that man she's been having coitus with on my favourite chair, my Meemaw lost one of the earrings Pop-Pop had given her, and my sister's newborn vomitted on me while her eldest was screaming in my ear That was the very definition of bad," he complained, removing his shirt and folding it, before putting it in the dirty laundry basket that was against the wall on his side of the bed. Amy walked towards her own side of the bed, smiling at both at her husband's gesture – she really did appreciate his love of order and cleanliness – and at the sight of Sheldon clad in only his undershirt – she really did appreciate his upper body.

"She vomitted on a towel," Amy remarked, taking off her earrings and putting them down on her nightstand, but Sheldon wasn't having it.

"That's just because I insisted on protecting my shirt before I would hold her," he mumbled, sitting down on his bed to untie his shoes.

"Besides," Amy went on as if uninterrupted, "no one was surprised that George broke up with her, your mother's boyfriend is a very nice man, your Meemaw wasn't upset about the earring at all, and you've got to admit that a baby vomitting on you is still a better way to spend Thanksgiving than a dog dying in your lap."

Her husband shudderred, the images of Rajesh's Yorkie exhaling her last breath on his lap flashing back to his mind. He hadn't even wanted the dog there – a fact he had had to remind Rajesh of every time he had accused him of stealing his precious baby's last minutes over the last year.

"I don't know if one is worse than the other," Sheldon said, getting up to put his shoes by the door. "Both are pretty horrible things to happen to you on Thanksgiving."

Amy chuckled. There was no way Sheldon would ever let this go, she knew him too well to believe otherwise. Still, she thought as she reached behind her to unzip her dress, their first Thanksgiving a) as husband and wife and b) in Texas could have gone a lot worse. If the price for her husband's family to welcome her with open arms was a bit of vomit on a towel, she was willing to pay.

She was about to drag the zipper of her dress down when she suddenly felt Sheldon behind her. "Allow me," he said, and Amy smiled as she felt his clumsy fingers wrestle with the zipper for a few seconds before he was able to unzip her dress. Both his hands snaked their way around her boy, resting on her hips, and he pressed his body against her. Amy relaxed into him as she felt his warm breath in the crook of her neck. Slowly, he brought his hands to her shoulders, gripping the straps of her dress, and just as gently dragging them down her arms.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked, a little breathless, and really just for show, as she helped Sheldon remove her dress by wiggling her hips so that it would fall down to the floor.

"Can't a husband help his wife undress without having to provide a reason?" he asked, kneeling. Amy took the hint and lifted her feet off the floor one after the other, allowing Sheldon to pick up her dress. He rose with the dress in his hands, and Amy felt him pause behind her. She knew her husband by heart, and knew exactly what was troubling him right then – how to fold and put the dress in the laundry basket without stepping away from her. Answering that question for him, she turned around, took her dress from his hands and, rolling it into a ball, she threw it across the room, where it landed in the basket.

If Sheldon wanted to complain about her manners, he didn't have time as Amy flung her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the mouth. Sheldon's hands went straight to her bottom, squeezing her cheeks playfully as a moan escaped Amy's mouth. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, kissing like two teenagers drunk on cheap wine and innocent love in his childhood bedroom, until Sheldon decided her wanted more and slowly pushed Amy to lie on the bed – that wasn't from his childhood, as Mary had upgraded it to a two people bed when she'd learnt of Sheldon and Amy's first night together.

Amy fleetingly wondered what she looked like, then, sprawled on a bed in just her panties, her peep-toe shoes, and her silk shirt, but she figured the sight wasn't bad, with the way Sheldon dove straight for her mouth again. There was no mistaking the hardness she felt against her trembling body, and not for the first time since December 17th of 2015, she marvelled at this happening to her. It'd been almost two years since she gave all of herself to Sheldon for the first time, and he gave her all of himself, but she didn't think she'd ever get used to it. Sheldon suddenly let go of her lips and sat up, quickly taking off his undershirt. Taken by his desire, he did not hesitate to roll it into a ball this time, and he flung it into the basket in the same way Amy had before.

Amy smiled at the sight before her, her husband in just his trousers, and she bit her lip, feeling her own desire take controls of her actions. She quickly sat up, too, and undid the buttons on her own shirt, but it being silk, she couldn't just roll it into a ball. She could get up and put it on the hanger she usually put it on when she brought it to the dry cleaner, but she didn't want to lose any second, and so, after she took it off, she made sure Sheldon was too busy removing his trousers to pay any attention to her, and she let it fall onto the floor, and then she kicked her shoe off and let them lay around too. She made a quick mental note to not forget were everything was, although she doubted she'd even remember, once Sheldon would have had his way with her.

She was about to take her bra off when she felt Sheldon's hands bat hers away from the hook on the front. "Allow me," he whispered, and Amy felt herself blush. She would never get tired of the look of pure adoration and concentration on her husband's face whenever he undressed her, as if she were a precious gift that one should unwrap with care and precision. Once the bra was unhooked, he quickly slid the straps off her arms, much like he'd done with her dress just a few minutes earlier, and threw it in the general direction of the laundry basket. If he saw it fall on the floor, a dozen centimeters away from the basket, he probably decided he had more pressing matters at hands, because he slowly lowered Amy onto her back again, and slid down her body until his face was just above her pelvis.

Amy felt his bony fingers on her hips, and then so slowly she thought she might die from anticipation, he dragged her blue panties down her legs. Once they were completely off her, Amy, he took his own underwear off, and then, not even pretending to throw them into the laundry basket, he simply let both pieces of fabric fall down to the floor. Amy thought she might cry at that, at the realization that her husband loved and desired so much he wouldn't even care about used underwear lying around at the foot of his bed.

Quickly, Sheldon worked his way back up her body, and they were kissing again before any of them had had time to utter a single word, Sheldon's hands flying straight into her hair. It was funny, that thing he had about his hands being in her hair whenever they where intimate. She still vividly remembered seeing herself in the mirror after the first night they had spent together and thinking she would never be able to properly comb out the knots his enthusiastic fingers had created in her hair.

Feeling her desire engulf her, Amy decided that foreplay would be for another time – she need him right there and then – and, truth be told, seeing him in a suit was always enough to get her so wet she didn't need foreplay. She broke their kiss, brought her hands to his hips and her face against his shoulder, and she whispered "Sheldon, please... now."

Sheldon didn't answer, but the way his breath quickened, she knew he'd heard her. They'd been doing this for almost two years, and they had gotten increasingly better at it, but Sheldon still seemed to feel like making love to her was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to him, and Amy would never, ever get tired of the tremor the simplest of her words could elicit from her husband's body.

Just as he rose on his forearms and positionned himself above her entrance, Amy's hands left his hips and she cupped his face, placing a quick, delicate kiss on his lips.

"I love you, Amy," Sheldon whispered, and, his excitation taking over him, he quickly pushed his way in, eliciting a low moan from her.

They'd been doing this for almost two years, and there was still a part of her that couldn't believe it, but whenever she felt Sheldon pulsating deep inside of her, she knew that it was real and good and built to last, and nothing, nothing could ever take that away from her.

Nothing, except perhaps loud knocks on the door.

Startled, Sheldon quickly slipped out of her, and both Amy and Sheldon turned their eyes towards the door.

"Shelly, are you still up?"

It was Missy, and Sheldon groaned. "If we don't say anything, she'll go away," he whispered, but Amy suspected his twin sister might have ruined the moment.

"Sheldon?" Missy called from the other side of the door. "I know you had a long flight and probably just want to sleep" – Amy giggled, there – "but I wouldn't bother you guys if it wasn't important."

"Should we say something?" Amy whispered, then, growing worried about what had Missy in such a frenzy.

"Absolutely not," Sheldon replied, obviously anxious to get back to making love, but Missy had other ideas.

"Listen, Clark fell and really hurt his knee. We need to get him to the hospital."

Amy's hands flew straight to her mouth, then, her worry for her four year old nephew stilling the desire inside her.

"Bob and I are both too drunk to drive, so Mom's bringing us, and Meemaw's already gone to bed so we need to leave Caitlin with you."

Sighing deeply, Sheldon sat on the bed. "We'll be right here," he called, and Missy quickly said thank you before running back down the stairs to her injured son.

"I can't believe this!" Sheldon growned, getting up and retrieving his and Amy's bathrobes from the wardrobe.

"It's okay," Amy said, grabbing the robe Sheldon was holding out to her and putting it on. "This is part of being a family." She quickly fastened the belt around the robe and added "Shall we head downstairs?"

Sheldon blushed, then. "Why don't you... ah, why don't you go first? I need to, um... calm down."

Amy giggled. It sure would be uncomfortable for her husband to stand in a room full of his relatives with an erection. "Sure," she said.

A few minutes later, after she'd assured Missy and her husband that she and Sheldon would take great care of their four week old daughter, and "No, it doesn't bother us at all, we were just going to bed" (Mary had seemed to not believe that one... mothers really did know best!), she was back in the bedroom. Sheldon had changed into his pyjamas, put the clothes they'd thrown flying around the room in the laundry basket, and was now under the covers, looking a lot like a child whose candy had been stolen. Amy chuckled at her sulking husband, before holding out their niece to him.

"Can you just hold her while I get into my pyjamas as well?" she asked, and Sheldon obliged. Amy put the baby into his outstretched arms and took her nightgown from the wardrobe. She laid it on the bed before taking off her gown, and she giggled as she saw Sheldon's eyes roam over her naked body, looking very miffed that he was no longer enjoying the softness of her skin. Deciding that it would be cruel to taunt her husband a moment longer, Amy quickly put her nightgown on, and hung her bathrobe back in the wardrobe, before getting under the covers with Sheldon and Caitlin.

Looking at him with their niece, for a fleeting moment, Amy wondered what it'd be like to have a child of their own. They hadn't really talked about it yet, and Amy didn't feel an overwhelming desire to be a mother, but it was something that was always at the back of her mind, the "what if we did it?" She wasn't sure where Sheldon standed on the issue, although she suspected he might want children because of something he'd said over two years before, right before she broke up with him.

Deciding that now might be as good a time as any to finally bring up the topic, Amy took a deep breath and said "So, that's an interesting turn of events..."

Unfortunately, Caitlin chose this exact moment to... vomit on Sheldon. Again. And this time, there was no towel between the baby's mouth and his nightshirt.

"Aaah!" Sheldon screamed, pushing the crying baby back into Amy's arms. "Stupid baby!" And before Amy had any time to say something, her husband's nightshirt had joined the pile of dirty clothes in the basket. "I can't believe I'm being vomitted on when I should be making love to my wife," he bemoaned as he took a new nightshirt out of the wardrobe, and, reaching for a tissue to clean Caitlin's mouth, Amy giggled again. Perhaps she should bring up the topic of children at a time when Sheldon wasn't so... frustrated.

A/N: Aw, poor Sheldon! You know what might make him feel better, though? I mean, apart from doing Amy? Reviews! *nudge nudge wink wink*