A/n Hey guys! Happy Monday! I missed you guys Friday, how are you all doing? I wanted to let you know, for those who don't follow me on Tumblr and stuff, I'm going to be posting new fics every Monday and Friday, so look for that on here, though they won't always be Shamy. For today's oneshot I wrote an alternate plot kind of for the Flaming Spittoon Acquisition that it takes place years later, mid eighth season. I hope you enjoy it, and Friday I will be back with the second chapter of my phanfic I posted Thursday!

Irresistible,

adjective

Too attractive and tempting to be resisted.

Amy Farrah Fowler had to know she was this, for many men, yes, but for Sheldon in particular. She had to be teasing him, her hips swaying gently and her backside prompted gently by the black pants she had on.

Her hair fell in soft curls on the back of the shoulders Sheldon desperately wanted to see bare.

Good Lord this woman.

She stood mere feet from him. If he so desired, he could reach out, envelope her in the sweetest of hugs, or search her beautiful eyes for what he was missing in that moment. What was he missing?

He glanced at the clock with a heavy heart. Amy didn't know, nor would she ever, the temptations which prodded Sheldon's mind as of recent. He'd stare at her for hours, and never feel the satisfaction that came along with kissing someone one was very fond of, or spending a day together full of honesty.

He was honest, in general. Hiding was not the same as lying.

The brunette just didn't know Sheldon was in love with her- had been in love with her for a long time, and refused to accept his proposal all those years ago which, in truth, would have made her life all the better.

Delicate.

Adjective

Easily broken or damaged.

Amy's eyes nervously darted anywhere but Sheldon, her best friend. She heard him sigh, knew something was bothering him, although she wasn't exactly facing him. She was trying to distract herself with songs that brought her great comfort. She could usually escape into them, and get away from that night.

The night that left her where she was now.

Sheldon was upset tonight, he came to her for help, and the way the color of his eyes had dulled broke her heart. Being alone wasn't so bad, being alone with a depressed Sheldon really took it's tole.

She was practically crumbling to the kitchen floor thinking about it. She crept her way to him eventually, and noticed his eyes jumping over her, though they still displayed a sadness Amy despised more than anything.

Sheldon wouldn't open up to her, though she would try her best. She sat beside him, as they used to, close and intimate.

It almost seemed to upset him even more.

Patient

Adjective

Able to accept or tolerate problems without becoming annoyed or anxious.

The way Amy laid a loving hand on Sheldon's knee nearly sent him over the edge. Kohlinar had long failed him, and he hurriedly tried to repair his disconnected self as if she'd ignore him as time progressed.

Amy would never do that, he thought, tried to think, whispered to himself mentally over and over. Her body language certainly implied he was correct, though he didn't trust himself to believe in full capacity.

He had been so sure that night, so overly confident...

But he'd said the wrong things.

She'd denied him, he hadn't known any better than to accept the fact.

Though she sat beside him now.

He'd felt as if he were a waste of time for her, but willed to keep focus as her eyes twinkled beautifully in the light of the lamp beside them.

His fingers wandered on top of hers but froze without the gentle squeeze he was going for.

Miserable,

Adjective

Incredibly unhappy or uncomfortable.

I couldn't bare to stay still while Sheldon touched me like that, knowing he'd still be okay with being friends afterwords. It wasn't supposed to be like this, it never was enough and I felt incredibly selfish for wanting more yet inadequate to receive such anything greater.

I had no choice but to take my hand away, but I couldn't will myself to do it. Even when he officially took it in his. He was simply staring at our hands, rubbing mine slowly, softly, and sighing gently.

I wish I wasn't in love with him.

He spoke so quietly after, I had to strain my ears to hear him. Besides looking positively horrible, he sounded almost scared. I sympathized with him, because the conversation we were having was making me feel rather nervous myself. I vowed to myself I'd keep it going, however, and after prompting him a little, I found out what was bothering him.

Fondness.

Noun

Affection or liking of someone or something.

I like the term I used to describe how I felt towards Amy, it was one of my favorite words. I miss doing "words of the week" with her, honestly. I wasn't sure how she'd feel, but she moved closer to me. I won't deny I may have gotten excited, though she looked confused and I was forced to say everything I'd hidden from her for the longest of times.

How I was sorry, my actual intentions of that night, and my alternate endings I'd thought up time after time. Endings where she was with me and not Stuart, or any other man for that matter. Endings where she would make me hold her hand for each and every movie afterwards, even though I hated it so. At least it would have made her happy.

I'll admit, I couldn't tell if she was happy with what I had told her.

I didn't blame her.

I wouldn't hold it against her.

But good Lord did I want to kiss her in that moment.

...I think she saw me swallow, which made me even more anxious. That was, until I remembered what I had confessed to her, my fondness for her, which I could use to my advantage.

So I did something crazy, one thing I am not. I simply leaned down and kissed her, forgetting she had been in mid sentence. It was similar to one I imagined would have happened years down the road, perhaps on a valentines day, on a train to somewhere I'd never been.

Boy had I missed this woman.

Longing

Noun

A yearning desire.

I wonder how much Sheldon would understand if I told him the extent with how wrong this was. The warmth that spread through my body caused for the buzz you get after you drink wine, I felt this warmth all over. His lips on mine surprised me, however wrong it was to kiss your best friend, but as he did so I began to find a little truth behind his words all those years ago, and began to fill in the things he missed.

Interpret the things he had said differently, somehow wrong in my eyes.

I began to understand.

And oh how I forgave him. If forgiving him meant I could kiss him like this more often, I'd do it over and over.

This man saved my life from the pitiful loneliness I'd been living.

I missed him more than words could express.

I whispered when our kiss had run it's course, ending on my back, nearly breathless. "Sheldon?"

His eyes searched mine innocently, confused, blank, and I gulped.

"I missed you."

"Does this mean..." He sounded so unsure, I just wanted to grab him and kiss him harder, make his head spin and fill him with all the love he needed to be confident again, sorry for that night, for that outcome, for the past four years. Completely wasted.

"Yes, Sheldon." I said, effectively cutting him off. I nodded so much I felt like my head was going to fall of. "Yes."