Amy walked the long corridor to her apartment mulling over her workday. It had been an especially stressful one. The first day on her new study was memorable but for all the wrong reasons. And, to top it off, she was returning home only 45 minutes before Sheldon would be at her place for their monthly date-night. It had been the bright spot of her day – the one thing she'd been looking forward to. Usually, any time spent with Sheldon was enough to brighten her mood. What she really wanted right then was to be in Sheldon's arms. She wanted him to see she was frazzled and willingly offer an embrace, to cuddle her, caress her. She had to stop thinking about her desires. They were only making her tenser.

Amy glanced at the clock. She had enough time for an, albeit quick, tension relieving exercise before Sheldon's arrival. Amy retrieved her trusty friend Gerard, a battery-operated toothbrush, from the bathroom and settled on her bed, hiking her skirt up and pulling her tights down just mid-thigh for a speedy redressing after. The activity was having the desired effect. So much so, she wondered if she was in a newfound state of euphoria when she heard Sheldon's voice.

Knock. Knock. Knock. "Amy."

Her bedroom door, already ajar, swung open. Amy sat up, making eye contact with Sheldon as he stood in the doorframe. Dear Lord! How much had he seen? Was this really happening? Amy could find no words. Sheldon looked startled and confused. He also looked like he really wanted to finish his ritualistic knocking routine. Instead, he turned and ran.

Amy pulled up her tights and repositioned her skirt. She wondered how she would ever face him again - Wondered if he had bolted from the apartment as well as her bedroom doorway. She flung herself back down on the bed and buried her face in a pillow. She heard a faint, familiar buzzing. Pulling away from the pillow, she searched the room for the sound before reaching over and turning off Gerard.

Well, no time like the present. She'd have to face the music sometime. She'd run out of clichés to buy more time so she reluctantly made her way down the hall to the living room.

Sheldon sat on the far end of the couch. Amy stopped momentarily when she saw him but forced herself to face him. She sat on the other end of the couch. Sheldon looked straight ahead. His face was flushed, as was Amy's. She was searching for the right words to say when Sheldon spoke.

"I apologize. I came early," Sheldon said, still squarely facing forward. Amy smirked secretly at the double meaning of his words.

"Leonard dropped me off 25 minutes early," he continued, "I would normally wait outside your door until our agreed upon date time. However, I noticed your apartment door was open a crack. I called to you. You didn't answer. And, then, I heard…I heard…noises. I heard unfamiliar noises that sounded like you may be in distress."

"I left my front door open?" Amy asked. She really must have been distracted, she thought.

"More to the point," Sheldon said as he turned to face Amy, "What exactly was going on?"

"What exactly did you see?" Amy blushed.

"Well, either you were performing a feminine hygiene practice I'm not aware of involving an automated toothbrush, or you were doing," Sheldon swallowed hard, "something else."

"Something else," Amy said. Damn his eidetic memory.

"Oh," Sheldon said. They sat in silence for a moment before he continued. "I didn't know you did that."

"Yeah, not that often. Just when I'm feeling particularly, um, tense."

They sat in silence for another moment.

"What about you?" Amy asked.

"What about me what?" Asked Sheldon.

"Do you ever…?" Amy asked as she eyed him.

"Once," Sheldon said quickly. He held his hands in his lap. "Okay, twice."

Amy had so many questions in her mind all competing with this new visual of her boyfriend.

"Fine! Seventeen times!" Sheldon announced as if she had been grilling him.

"Seventeen times?" Amy was in disbelief.

"Once a year since I was 16 years old."

"Once a year?" Amy was so shocked she couldn't stop herself from parroting back his answers.

"Every Flag Day. I read a study that said it was healthy to relieve sexual tension regularly. I go to a dentist every six months to have my teeth cleaned. I just added this to my health maintenance schedule."

"Why Flag Day?" Asked Amy.

"It seemed as good a day as any. Also, it brings to mind memories of having my underwear rung up the flagpole by school bullies. As well as the phallic pole itself. So, all-in-all a good reminder," Sheldon said.

"That gives 'Fun With Flags' a whole new meaning," Amy said. She was beginning to relax. "What do you think about during, you know, Flag Day?"

"Oh, this and that: trains or the naked universe, or, most recently, you." Sheldon said. His face flushed again but he didn't look away from his girlfriend.

Emboldened by his admission, Amy scooted next to him, pressing her thigh against his.

"You think of me," she said softly.

Sheldon nodded.

"Well, if you're by yourself thinking of me and I'm here thinking of you. Wouldn't it make sense for us to meet each other's needs in person?" She placed her hand on Sheldon's inner thigh and seductively moved her hand up. "It's only logical, after all."

Sheldon sensed a tightening that was typically reserved for Flag Day. He felt the warmth of Amy's hand on his leg moving closer to his expanding groin.

"Amy!" He gasped. He knew he was only inches away from feeling her soft hand where no woman had gone. He hardened at the thought of her touch. Terror overtook him and he gripped the arm of the couch. Amy felt him pull away from her. Maybe, she thought, she had pushed him too far. She removed her hand from his thigh.

Immediately, Sheldon missed her touch. He ached for it and he didn't want to be afraid anymore. He grasped Amy's hand, placing it back where she had left off.

"I didn't tell you to stop."