A/N: I am THE WORST, because I haven't update TDD in FOREVER, but I'm suffering from extreme writer's block, mostly in terms of continuity and planning (even though I do have a plot). Here's just a little something else for your troubles. Another one-shot.
To DrSheldonCooper_, 2/13/12, 3:47 P.M.
Dear Sheldon,
How am I today? I'm tired today, I'm stressed. I usually don't give into self-pity, but the recent troubles at work along with learning that my mother has Huntington's disease has really set me into a state of anxiety, and lately, I've been wanting my brain power to stay ambient.
I'd like to spend the day with you. A calm day.
We could watch Sherlock BBC, and your Doctor Who, and I always liked forts as a child; could we build one? Though I never admired superheroes like you, or liked to delve into video games, I did like to pretend. I've always liked pretending. In fact, though I live in reality quite exclusively, I often feel disconnected from this person named Amy Farrah Fowler... I am often someone cooler, or someone more adventurous, or someone perhaps more witty and enigmatic...
Back to what I want. Valentine's Day is tomorrow. I'd like to build a fort. It'd be something similar to a slumber party, while the other couples are away at dinner; I promise we can mask the dirty floor with clean blankets and towels and I won't touch you too much. I'll try not to annoy you, either, as long as you reciprocate :)
I know this is far too sentimental, but Sheldon, I know you are capable of being a good boyfriend.
Sincerely, Amy Farrah Fowler
Sheldon had agreed to her proposition. And there they were, in pajamas by Amy's request, sipping hot cocoa because February had an R in it, a bag of modest caramel Dove chocolates between them, (plus Skittles for Sheldon who claimed that chocolate in addition to their beverages was redundant), watching the endearing but easy-to-follow Sherlock and smiling at his wittiness in the darkened living room.
They'd moved the coffee table, and had built a fort out of blankets (that Sheldon made a point of stating would prove troublesome to wash came Saturday). It was an impressive structure; large and roomy, only held up by the back of the couch, Sheldon's old lawn chairs which he'd pulled out from behind the desk by the window, and an array of yarn the pair had weaved and pinned to the ceiling. They had briefly experimented with how little yarn they could use to support the load. It had been great fun to build.
Sheldon paused the DvD and stood up. "All of this sweet stuff is making my throat stick, I'm going to get a bottle of water."
"One for me too, please?"
"Of course," said Sheldon, and he strode to the kitchen and out of sight behind a wall of Star Wars-heavy cotton. He returned with two bottles of water, set them down, and then sat cross-legged beside Amy.
He glanced over at her, looking almost apprehensive. Before Amy had time to deduce what he seemed just so nervous about, his recently cooled hand was wrapped around hers.
The touch sent a jolt through her arm.
"What's this, Sheldon?"
"I don't know, I'm trying to be amorous for the sake of Valentine's Day. You see more into the holiday than I do... I thought you would appreciate it." His voice faltered, and she could feel his hand slackening and ready to pull away.
She gripped it more firmly. "That's very sweet of you, Sheldon."
Sheldon, failing to control himself, smirked at her warmly. His hand remained upon hers as they turned back to their show.
A few minutes later, Sheldon's hand pulled away suddenly. "I apologize, that got to be much too sweaty for my liking," he told her, wiping his hand on his pajama bottoms.
"That's alright," Amy said, though she sounded rather disappointed.
Sheldon found some Purell within proximity and squirted some into his palm. "Just know that it isn't your touch that's making me use this. I trust that you washed your hands recently, but the alcohol just makes me feel fresher."
"It's okay, Sheldon," she reassured him. She continued to stare at the television apathetically.
He looked over at her, feeling a little lost. After a moment of thought, he seemed to realize something, and his expression became a mixture of timid and sly. He scooted closer to her, pulled her into his chest, and then wrapped his arms around her, considerably more confidently than the last time he had done such a thing.
"How about that?" Sheldon asked quietly, in a very careful tone.
"Glad to see Dr. Cuddles is back." Amy replied.