AN: Having never written an episode continuation before, this is new territory for me. Let me know what you think. For my regular readers, this rather obviously does not take place in my Shamyverse, dealing instead with canon Shamy. I hope you enjoy this change of pace!
The Blanket Fort Continuation
"Not there! That's my spot!"
Leonard rolled his eyes and shifted to the other side of the blanket fort. But he couldn't help but notice that Sheldon did not sit down exactly on the floor where Leonard had; instead, he sat far enough from the edge of the sofa that Amy could sit next to him. "You guys, this is great."
Amy and Sheldon shared a huge grin between them, and Leonard found himself uncharacteristically jealous of them. Sheldon had been in such a bad mood earlier that Leonard almost whispered a warning to Amy as they passed in the door way. But here they were, both incredibly happy, Amy having wiped every vestige of Sheldon's thunderclouds away. And yet, Leonard had been in a good mood when he went to Penny's earlier, but now . . .
"How was Penny's performance during Wil Weaton's podcast?" Sheldon asked.
"I don't want to talk about it," Leonard mumbled.
"Sounds like trouble in paradise," Amy said.
Leonard was about to protest when Sheldon said, "See, paradise isn't all it's cracked up to be. Remember that the next time you want to talk about the flora contained there, not to mention the birds and the bees."
A brief frown passed over Amy's face. Leonard's mood turned even more sour. Jesus, Sheldon could be such an ass at times. It was bad enough that he didn't even realize what he said around other people, but must he be so thick-headed with Amy?
"If you don't like my version of paradise, we can take it down," Amy shot back.
Raising his eyebrows slightly, Leonard chuckled. You go, girl.
"Amy! I didn't say that!" Sheldon protested. "Besides, if we take it down, then there will be no suitable location for our sleepover."
"Your what?!" Leonard yelled.
Sheldon gave him a look of haughty derision. "We're having a G-rated boy/girl sleepover in the fort. Grow up, Leonard."
"But you're not invited," Amy added quickly. Any insult she may have meant was softened by the smirk Leonard saw on her face.
"Hey, that's my line!" Sheldon objected. Then he turned to Leonard, his grin back in place. "You're not invited."
"In that case, I'm leaving," Leonard got up, his mood lightened. G-rated? Not if Amy had anything to do with it. Sheldon was no match for her. He never had been.
Amy lifted the edge of the blanket, and her eyes immediately settled on Sheldon, sitting where he had been earlier, wearing his plaid pajamas. She smiled at him and went to sit down next to him, leaning her own back against the sofa.
"Amy, I have some bad news," Sheldon said.
Her heart pounded. Had he changed his mind? "What?"
"We have been bitten by irony. We made the fort big enough to accommodate a G-rated boy/girl sleepover, but it seems that we used too many blankets and sheets in the creation of our fort. I am not certain there are enough left for both you sleeping on the sofa and for me sleeping on the floor."
"I was going to sleep on the sofa?" Amy asked, trying to still her disappointment. Apparently she and Sheldon had different definitions of the word sleepover.
"Of course I would give you the sofa. It's the chivalrous thing to do," Sheldon replied. Then he sighed deeply. "I've afraid we'll have to sleep together on the floor and share blankets."
"What a bummer." Amy had to bite the inside of her lip to keep from smiling. "I'm sure we can can make do with this turn of events."
"Are you sure?" Sheldon asked.
"Oh, definitely." Amy looked down at the blankets and pillows Sheldon had neatly spread out on the floor. His legs were stretched out in front of him, his feet bare. He had such long feet . . . "Sheldon, what do you normally do before bed?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean after your brush your teeth. I always read in bed. Do you?" She looked back at him.
"Sometimes." He looked away from her, and she watched his eyes. She wondered if he was looking at her own feet, sticking out of the bottom of her nightgown. Something about both of their feet, naked, resting close together, the flannel of their night clothes mingling . . .
"Would you like to read tonight?" he asked.
"I didn't bring my book."
"Well, the physics lending library is right here," Sheldon pulled the blanket away from the row of books again.
Amy smiled at him. "I'm not sure right before bed is the best time to read any of those books."
"It's always the best time to read these books!" Sheldon protested. He twisted over quickly to look at the titles, and the edge of Amy's nightgown fluttered to the floor where his leg had been. She watched slowly as it deflated. "Ah ha! You might like this one! The female character is supposed to be just as stubborn as you are!"
When Sheldon sat back up, a slim volume in his hand, his smile was just as large as it had been earlier, when they had completed the fort. Amy couldn't help but return it, his childlike fun outweighing any possible insult that he could have meant.
"What is it?"
"A Discovery of New Worlds by Bernard de Fontenelle. Have you read it?"
Amy shook her head. "I've heard of it, though. A visiting astronomer attempts to explain the workings of the universe to a naive but headstrong woman, right?"
Sheldon nodded his head. "Yes." Then he looked down slightly. "Will you think less of me that I've never read it, either?"
"Then why do you own it?"
"Remember Alex, my former assistant? She gave it to me. I never stood why. Why would I want to read a fiction novella using French metaphors to explain outdated science? But you like French metaphors." He looked directly into her eyes, then, and Amy felt her heart pitter-patter that he knew this about her.
"Should we read it together?" Amy asked, swallowing. "I'll read a paragraph and then you'll read a paragraph. Just until we're sleepy."
After cocking his head slightly for a moment, Sheldon passed the book to her. "Very well. Would you like to start?"
Amy took the book and turned the pages, past the modern introduction, to the first page of the novella proper. She cleared her throat, "'The First Night. We went one evening after supper to walk in the park; the air was cool and refreshing . . .'"
"' . . . But I perceive you are sleepy, and begin to yawn; let us therefore retire, for there's enough said for the first night, tomorrow we shall return hither again; you with your systems, and I with my ignorance." Sheldon stopped the end of the paragraph, and waited calmly for Amy to pick up the narrative again. But her head had come to rest on his shoulder, which he found surprisingly pleasant. He whispered when she did not start reading, "Amy? Are you asleep?"
"No," she said softly. "But I think I'd like to stop and go to sleep. I almost yawned when you were reading that."
"Perhaps it's just the yawn contagion phenomenon," Sheldon offered, looking down at her profile.
Amy raised her head and smiled. "No, it's late." She held up her wrist for him to see. "I forgot to take my watch off. It's almost midnight, well past our bedtimes."
"Yes, you're right." Sheldon closed the book and sat it on top of the lending library. "We can put your watch here, if you like. I already set the alarm for tomorrow morning on my phone."
"Thank you," Amy said, unhooking her watch and passing it to him. Sheldon ran his fingertips along the back of the case, still warm from her skin. Then she took off her glasses and passed them to him as well. "Do you mind if I turn off the lights now? As much as I like the ambiance, I prefer to sleep in a dark room."
"Me, too," Sheldon said, watching Amy get up and turn to flip the toggle switch on the string of lights. Complete darkness fell in the fort, all of the usual light from the window blocked by heavy blankets. "Can you see to get down again?"
"I think so. Give me your hand," Amy's voice said. Sheldon put up his arm and he felt Amy groping, first touching his wrist, and then placing her palm in his. Their hands moved down together as she resumed her position next to him. He didn't let go.
"Sheldon, we didn't talk about how Date Night protocols may be altered by our sleepover," Amy said suddenly.
Sheldon's heart hammered. "What do you mean?"
"Well, our kiss, for example. Should we kiss now, before midnight, so that it is technically still Date Night? Or should we institute a new good morning kiss tomorrow?"
"I'm not sure kissing is G-rated."
"All the Disney princesses get their kiss at the end of their G-rated movies."
There was no faulting her logic. "Then I think we should do it now in order to avoid morning halitosis."
"Agreed." He heard and felt her shifting next to him, and he turned his body slightly, also. "Sheldon? Don't jump, I'm going to touch your face because I can't see you. Shut your eyes; I don't want to abrade your corneas."
Doing as he was instructed, Sheldon first heard Amy's breath close to him and then he felt the gentle touch of her fingers against his temple. Her fingers traced slowly down his face, until she was softly holding his jaw. He wanted to reach out for her, too, to hold her waist as he was accustomed to doing; but if he missed and landed on second base, this sleepover would definitely not be G-rated anymore.
"Do you trust me?" Amy whispered, her face so close to his that he felt the heat of her words.
Not quite knowing why his heart was beating just as fast it had during their first kiss or why Amy needed to be trusted, he did know how to respond to her question. "Always."
Her mouth pressed against his, and, even in the dark, they had met each other precision. This, he knew well, the softness of her lips, how much pressure she liked, just the right amount of moment. He relaxed into this ritual, realizing that Amy was just asking if he trusted her to land properly in the inky shadows.
Until he felt something hot and wet dart at his lips. His eyes popped open, but that didn't help as he couldn't see. Amy's hand held him firm, their lips still touching. Everything was as it had been, just the gentle mouth he was accustomed to; and he almost wondered if had imagined it, if he really was more tired than he thought. He calculated that this kiss was longer than usual, but he felt no desire to leave it. He needed some sort of control, some way to know for sure - Before he lost his nerve, he quickly thrust the tip of his own tongue out. Just to touch her lips, to see if that felt the same as what he had just experienced. That's all. Just a brisk experiment.
But everything was far more yielding than he expected, and his path was not impeded by the barrier he anticipated. Before he could acclimate to this unexpected course of events, he found himself stroking the edge of Amy's tongue with his own, lost in how it felt touch her like that, how easily she had allowed this to happen, how sweet and velvety her mouth was, how her fingers had tightened on his jaw, how a soft moan escaped from her, how his whole body flushed and throbbed at this . . .
"Amy, I - " he reared back, frightened, and her hand dropped away from his face. "I didn't - I'm sorry - I don't -"
"It's fine, Sheldon. It was better than fine," Amy said, and he thought maybe her voice sounded deeper, more full of something than usual. "It's my fault. I started it."
So it had been her tongue, after all! But he felt no heat at this confession, just . . . "I - um - well - uh - no, it's not that - it's - uh" He couldn't believe he was this dumbstruck. He wanted to say something articulate, something that conveyed . . . something - but not that, no, definitely not that - . . . to Amy.
His cheek was warmed by her own as Amy's face came very close to his. She whispered in his ear, "I liked it, too. You've also sexually aroused me."
Suddenly, she was gone from her spot, and her heard her scampering, the rustle of sheets and blankets, the creaking of the floor as she laid down. Grateful for the pitch blackness, Sheldon brought his hand up to his chest, where he was afraid his heart might find its way out. How had she known? Apparently because she was in the same state.
When Sheldon had thought about Amy's desire for physical intimacy, he had thought it was generated by the purely physical desire for the release of hormones. Much like the experiment she had participated in on orgasms. Amy wanted to have a sexual relationship with him so that her body could experience those sensations again. Sheldon had thought his gender, and thus those parts unique to his male anatomy, was just the necessary means that Amy needed. He was merely a place holder; a real-life man to make her feel the way she felt when she read her trashy novels. Yes, she loved him, and he loved her; but that was separate, wasn't it, as theirs was a relationship of the mind? And certainly his equipment would be visually appealing and up to the task at hand, but it was just equipment, wasn't it?
Here in the darkness of their blanket fort, though, with no visual clues at all, he had sexually aroused her. Sheldon found himself grinning. It wasn't the memory of an old experiment, it wasn't the fantasy of him of a swashbuckling hero, it was just him. It was him. Him alone. He had done that to her.
As had she. There was no doubt Amy was right. Her smell, her warmth . . . Sheldon shook his head in wonder at it all. He had thought his urges were just a cross to bear, a natural part of his human make-up. Maybe in the past, but now . . . he didn't just love her, he wanted her.
Taking a deep breath, Sheldon slowly maneuvered himself toward the pile of blankets and slowly lifted the edge. He shifted in carefully, not wanting to touch Amy. But, this time, not because he didn't want to give her any ideas, but because he was afraid that he had too many ideas.
She had ruined everything. Now there would never be another sleepover. Amy thought that Sheldon would probably ask her leave. And he would be in his right to do so. He wasn't even coming to lie down with her; she hadn't heard him move. Sheldon was probably rooted in that spot, angry with her. Yes, he had seemed to be an equal participant, but that could have just been hormones taking over. And having his body betray him like that would probably only make him more vexed.
Then, she heard him shuffle and shift. She felt the heat from his long frame as it stretched out behind her. His movements seemed stiff, unsure.
After a pause, he whispered, "Amy?"
She squeezed her eyes shut. What should she say? She had already said too much. What was she thinking, bringing up sexual arousal like that? It was the worst possible thing she could have said. "I guess I broke the G-rated sleepover agreement," she whispered back, fighting back tears.
"I may have . . . misspoken earlier. I believe that not suitable for babies and young children is the definition of a PG rating, not a G rating."
Amy opened her eyes and drew in a small gasp. Tentatively, careful not to touch him, she rolled over toward him. Even with time, there was so little light filtering in; she wasn't sure if she was imagining his shadow or not. "Sheldon?"
"I would be willing to include that particular PG-13 activity in our next sleepover. If you are agreeable," he finished in a rush.
Next sleepover? PG-13? Was this all a dream? All she could manage to do was repeat herself. "Sheldon?"
"If we're going to take a big step, we might as well make it big. I wouldn't want anyone to have cause for accusing me of misspeaking twice in one night."
Unable to contain herself, Amy threw her body down to where she thought his was, her head landing on his chest with a slight thump.
"Ummphh," Sheldon said, but he wrapped his arms around her. She felt his chin on the top of her head, like she so often did when they hugged. "We should sleep. I said PG-13, not R, and that is not up for debate."
"Yes," Amy said into his chest.
Leonard had a nightmare that Penny broke their engagement. That was it, the entire nightmare. It was the worst possible thing that he could imagine happening to him. He rolled over to put on his glasses and look at the time on his alarm clock. Only five. But now that he was awake, he had to go to the bathroom.
Regretting all that Diet Coke he drank, Leonard shuffled out of bed to get his robe. He paused by Sheldon's open door and peeked inside. He was half-way surprised that Sheldon hadn't given up on the sleepover idea and gone back to sleep in his own bed. In fact, Leonard could not think of a time that Sheldon hadn't slept in his own bed when he was home. And he hated sleeping anywhere other than home.
Curious, he tiptoed into the living room and carefully lifted one of the blankets on the fort. Fortunately the light from the hall was enough that a shaft of light shined into it. Amy's face was buried into the crook of Sheldon's neck, and Sheldon was wrapped around her. There was no other way to describe it: his chin was resting in her hair, his arm was encircling her shoulder, and one leg seemed to be enveloping her legs. Suddenly feeling voyeuristic watching this intimate pose, Leonard dropped the blanket and quickly went to the bathroom.
When he came out, he went to the living room again. He had made a decision. Well, two decisions, actually. The first was that he gently fished Sheldon's phone out from where it was lying on the floor just above their heads. He deactivated the alarm and replaced it. Then he wrote note on a sheet of paper and slipped it in above the phone. Neither Sheldon or Amy had moved the entire time; they were too sound asleep.
Then he grabbed his keys and crossed the hallway to let himself into Penny's apartment. He walked to her bedroom, took off his robe and slid in next to her. She roused at the activity.
"If you came for a good morning, think again," she said.
"Actually, I came to apologize." It was his second decision. "I'm sorry, Penny. I want you to be happy. Do whatever makes you happy."
"Mmmmm, thank you," Penny said, turning to him after all. "What changed your mind? Not that it was your decision, anyway."
"I saw a man who gave in to someone else's happiness, and he looked pretty happy, too."
Penny screwed up her face. "Huh? Who? If that's philosophy, I can't handle it before coffee."
"Amy slept over with Sheldon."
Penny sat up in bed, her eyes wide. "O.M.G."
"Not like that. I mean, you know, at the rate they're going they'll both lose their virginity when they're eighty."
"Ewww. I can't handle that metal image before coffee either," Penny said, lying back down. "So she slept in a sleeping bag on the floor in his room or something?"
"No. They made a blanket fort last night, and they slept inside. They're all curled up together this morning," Leonard said, reaching for her.
"Wait, we have to talk about something else before we do that. You know I can't jump from thoughts of Sheldon straight to sex." She shivered.
"I was thinking it might be nice just to cuddle. Like this . . ." And he pulled her into the crook of his neck.
Sheldon woke with a start, and it took him a minute to realize where he was. His arm was completely numb, trapped under Amy. What time was it? It was so much lighter in the fort than it had been last night. He lifted his free arm from her shoulder and reached up for his phone. His hand made contact with something crinkly instead. He pulled the paper down to read it.
I turned the alarm off on your phone. I know how many personal hours you have to use up. You look so happy! Enjoy!
If he could have moved, he would have stormed into Leonard's room. If he was still home. What time was it anyway? He was furious. How dare Leonard assume that he knew what Sheldon had planned for the day? And Amy! Sheldon knew that she could probably be late for work based on the current state of her study, but Leonard didn't know that! And how dare he presume to think Sheldon was happy!
He tried to reach for his phone to check the time, but the extra movement caused Amy to stir.
"Sheldon?" she mumbled. "What time is it?"
He looked down at her half-lidded green eyes, her hair tangled around her face. She had creases on her cheek.
"Early. Shhh, go back to sleep. You look so happy," he murmured. Amy gave him a small, sleepy smile and curled back into him.
AN: Thank you in advance for your reviews!