Chapter 4: The Approach Vector Rumination

Dr. Sheldon Cooper had never been defeated by a mental exercise. Of course, certain people (mostly his mother) had cajoled him into verbalizing defeat in the past to meet certain social requirements, but in his mind he still knew he hadn't been defeated. But, as he looked at the time and realized Leonard would be home any second, he knew he had been beaten. He put his head down on the edge of his desk and gasped for air. How did this happen to me?

It was only logical that Amy would have asked him to perform this research on kissing and write up the regulations. After all, wasn't kissing really a form of physics, what with all the speed, forces, trajectories, approach vectors, and rotations to consider? He was clearly overqualified.

He had been shocked, at first, to hear her proposal. His own heart had already been beating faster than he liked, which had surprised him. It surprised him because he was prepared, he had formulated arguments to explain his position rationally if Amy should counter propose either more or less date nights a week. But once he was saying it, he found his mouth suddenly dry, his voice quieter than normal, his heart beating faster, and he was embarrassed to look Amy in the eye. He even said the wrong thing; he hadn't meant to say "closeness," he had meant to say "our recent increase in aggregate conversation minutes." Why had he said "closeness?"

And then that! He was shocked, but, if his ever increasing heart rate had been any indication, he was oddly excited. It was as though she had a window into his brain and knew he deepest desires, the ones he was trying to keep hidden. Why? Why couldn't this strange feeling have stayed on the train, where it had apparently found me?

Initially, the task before him had not daunted him or frightened him. Nor had it given him that funny feeling he so often had around Amy lately. Instead, it had made him feel calmer. It was merely another equation to solve, another graph to make, another solution to discover. He would find pleasure in it, of course, but no more pleasure than he found in any of his other work.

But as the weekend wore on, he found there was so much more research to do than he had expected. The few hours he had of peace, when Leonard was at Penny's, had revealed to him more variations on kissing then he had previously been aware. And when he would remind himself that their kisses would be simple, just one set of lips making contact with another, he remembered the way his lips had felt after kissing her cheek and the way her cheek had felt on his lips. It was different from when he kissed her lips. Would her other cheek feel the same or different? What about her forehead? The back of her hand? What about the suprasternal notch at the base of her neck that he sometimes noticed peeking out of her shirt?

Oh, dear Lord, here comes the feeling again. What has this vixen done to me? Sheldon had closed his eyes and tried to breathe through it.

And so he had done something he had never done before. He took a sick day. He clearly needed several hours of peace to unlock this puzzle in which he found himself.

Leonard, of course, had been suspicious. "But you're never sick. And even when you are sick, you refuse to admit it. So why are you taking a sick day and telling me you're sick when you're clearly not?"

"Just because I choose not to bore you with all the details of my illness or whine endlessly to Penny about my symptoms like you do does not mean I am not sick."

"Should I call Amy and tell her you're sick? Isn't there a clause or something in your Relationship Agreement about being sick?"

"No!" Terror seized him. "Under absolutely no circumstances are you to tell Amy I am sick. In fact, I will text her myself and tell her -" What should I tell Amy?

Leonard had smiled. "What are you up, buddy? Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

Sheldon tried to shoot the pointiest daggers he could imagine out of his eyes until Leonard left. He had apparently kept up his end of the bargain as Sheldon had not received any overly ridiculous texts from Raj or Howard. Once alone, he had quickly devised an excellent cover text to Amy that would prevent her from looking for him at work. Quite clever.

But now, nine hours later, the situation was even more dire. While researching YouTube videos, he had accidentally selected some sort of French kissing video. It was mislabeled! At first, he was disgusted. Never! How unhygienic! That clearly was not an option. But then, as he continued watching (it was like a train going by, really, he couldn't tear himself away), he realized that he did, indeed, wonder how that would feel. These two people seemed to be enjoying it immensely. Now that he thought about, the few times he had seen Leonard and Penny do it, they had enjoyed it immensely. The feeling came over him again, and, although he did work to slow his breathing some, he clicked on another video. Maybe, just maybe, with enough toothpaste and mouthwash and . . . that's when he knew he had been defeated and found himself hyperventilating into his lap.

They had been playing Counterfactuals for over an hour when Sheldon realized it. He had made a particularly brilliant argument, and Amy had thrown her head back and laughed. It occurred to him that what he said could be considered ironically funny, and he laughed too.

She's relaxing me. No, she's trying to relax me and it's working. She has been all evening. Sheldon knew she wasn't manipulating him, Amy rarely tried to manipulate him now, just sometimes with the begging eyes. That's why he'd been so angry on the train. Not because she wanted romance - he had come to expect that desire from her - but because she was manipulating him to try to get it. This, he could tell from her deep laughter, was sincere. Amy was trying to calm his fears, Amy was saying and doing all the right things.

His heart warmed. She had been punctual, of course. She had kept the conversation rolling during their meal, even when he suddenly found himself nervous. She had prepared a new game of Counterfactuals to occupy his mind. She hadn't attempted to touch him, even though he wouldn't have minded touching her hand, he was getting used to that now. And she had never once asked about The Relationship Agreement.

"Amy?"

She opened her eyes and lowered her head, coming down from her laughter. Her eyes were still sparkling. "What?"

"Should we review the updates to The Relationship Agreement now?" Just like that, everything was serious and a little tense. Should I have asked now? Was that a mistake? We were enjoying ourselves.

"Okay," she nodded.

He picked his iPad up from the coffee table, where he's left it setting just before she arrived.

"There are two sections that require your signature. One about the change in frequency of our date nights. And one about -" Stay calm. Just swallow through it. "- kissing."

"Okay." Amy took the offered electronic and began to read the document he had on the screen. He watched her reading, fascinated at how her eyes moved under her eyelids.

After several minutes, she nodded and looked up at him. "I agree. It's good that you thought about holidays that fall on Thursdays. Do I just sign here?"

"Yes, on the line."

She used her finger to sign and looked back at him, expectantly.

"Um . . . just swipe, it's the next document." He closed his eyes and tried his Kulinar techniques. He had just managed two long breaths when Amy spoke.

"Sheldon, there seems to be something wrong."

His eyes snapped open. "What? What do you mean? Is it a technical difficulty with the iPad?" Please let it be a technical difficultly with the iPad. He hadn't been this nervous about a document since he'd submitted his last dissertation.

"The rules seem to be missing. This is just an introduction." Amy's brow furrowed as she read the single paragraph aloud. " 'The Boyfriend and Girlfriend agree to engage in at least one kiss on each date night unless either party is under the influence of a virus or bacterial infection. If date night has been mutually cancelled in advance in favor of a group of activity with Friends or Family, no kiss shall occur in the presence of those parties.' That's it."

She was looking at him, eyebrows still furrowed.

Breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe. Was he beginning to perspire? "Um . . ." he looked down. ". . . well . . ." What is wrong with my voice? "After I did my research I thought maybe too many rules would be . . ." Yes, definitely perspiring. ". . . limiting."

She sounded surprised. "You don't want limits?"

"Of course I want limits. We're not wild animals." He snapped his head up, and Amy jerked. Oh no. He sought to recover. "I apologize, that was rude. I think I'm . . . nervous." He blurted out in a rush, "It's just that there are so many variations on kissing that I wasn't able to properly quantify them at this time. Perhaps at a later date, when we've had time to experiment. We need to approach this scientifically. We need to collect initial data with which to form a hypothesis and then test that hypothesis until we reach a conclusion."

She looked exactly the same as she had last week, when he'd suggested weekly date nights. She was struggling, he knew. She was going reply very calmly, so calmly that he would be proud of her, but her eyes were giving everything away. He had pleased her. I want her to look at me like that forever. Do anything, say anything, just don't lose that look. What? Where did that thought come from? Was this selflessness? His mother had always told him selflessness was its own reward, which he had always dismissed as poppycock, but maybe . . .

"Yes, you're right. We are leaders of our respective scientific fields, after all." She looked down and signed the screen with her finger. Did he imagine it or was there a little flourish in her signature, an extra large movement right at the end?

"Well, I believe that settles everything." She set the iPad back on the coffee table. "It's almost 9:30. I should go." She stood.

"Yes." He walked with her to the door and watched as she picked up her purse. She turned and looked up at him. He returned her gaze.

In all of his hours of research, in all those agonizing moments he couldn't breathe, he somehow had never contemplated this exact second. This was it. This was the moment she had signed for, the moment he had created with his words. Why was he so nervous? He had done this on the train. He had kissed her cheek last week. It's the same thing. No, it's not. Oh, Albert Einstein, here comes the feeling again.

"Amy, I'm going to kiss you now." What is happening to my voice lately?

He took a deep breath, leaned down, closed his eyes, and touched his lips to hers. It was different than he remembered. Was it just because he had decided to press more softly? His research had told him that was generally the preferred method. Her lips felt softer this time. Was it because she wasn't so startled? That had been a mistake, last time. Ever so slightly, her lips moved beneath his. Sparks shot from his lips all the way down his arms to his fingertips, and he reached for her waist. Why hadn't he taken hold of her first? It was more logical. He felt her hands on his biceps and he tensed, just for a millisecond, but then he relaxed. Oh, that made it feel even better.

Then, gently, he felt Amy pull away. He opened his eyes to look at her. His heart was thumping in his chest, but he felt sad for some reason.

"Thank you, Sheldon. And good night," she whispered. He noticed the look of pleasure in her eyes again. I've pleased her.

He nodded, suddenly rendered mute by the sadness of no longer kissing her combined with the joy of pleasing her. So that's bittersweet. She walked out the door then, and all he could do was raise his hand in a pathetic little wave.

He stood there after she left, not moving, his hand still raised for precisely 97 seconds.

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