Chapter Four: First Contact
The first series of knocks surprised her. The second told her who was on the other side of the door. The third sent her over the edge.
Sheldon had said he was coming, of course. She remembered him offering to do so right before her imposed deadline for explanation ran out. But considering the hellish day she'd endured, it had slipped her mind that he would actually be here. As tired and despondent as she was, he was the last person she wanted to see right now.
Amy jerked open the door. "What?"
He arched back in alarm, but whether that was from her abruptly opening the door or from her less-than-friendly tone, she didn't know. They stood there staring at each other. Damn it, she thought, taking in his tan slacks and the light brown windbreaker covering his lanky frame. Why does he have to be so handsome? It would be a lot easier to stay grounded in her ire if she didn't have to battle an ever-growing attraction on top of it.
One dark eyebrow curved upward as he regarded her. "Amy, I've been standing here for three minutes now. When you have a guest at your door, it is customary to welcome them into your home." He waited a full minute for her to respond. When she didn't, he added, "Well? Are you going to invite me inside?"
"Depends," she said with a shrug. "Are you here to provide an explanation for your actions of yesterday or to deliver a lecture on polite behavior?"
His stiff, these-are-the-rules-according-to-the-mighty-Sheldo n-Cooper attitude merely reminded her of the last time she'd been with him. He thinks he's just going to push his way through this by telling me what to do? He should think again. Hell hath no fury like a pissed off neurobiologist.
Straightening to every inch of his impressive height, he said, "I am here—as promised—to explain my actions."
Amy stepped aside. "Then come in."
Once he was inside, she shut the door and walked over to the couch to reclaim her seat. She slouched simply because she knew it would annoy him. From the frown on his face, she had succeeded. After taking off his jacket, Sheldon sat in his customary spot, eyeing her warily. She eyed him back, enjoying his obvious discomfort. He pushed nervously at the black sleeves of his undershirt and fidgeted with the hem of his emerald, Green Lantern t-shirt which was stretched over his slender chest. It was evident how unpleasant this evening was for him.
Good. Maybe now he's getting a taste of how I felt yesterday. Amy didn't know where all this rage was coming from, but, once it started, there was no stopping it. It seemed merely seeing him had unleashed an uncontrollable fury within her that was dictating all actions. His eyes scuttled to the kitchen and back to her a few times.
"Are you going to offer me a beverage?" he asked.
She shook her head and waited.
His frown was back. "That's rude."
"So is telling all your coworkers about supposed sexcapades you're having with a girlfriend you barely touch." Amy crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the sofa. "Are you going to start explaining or am I going to have to put you on a timer again?"
His cheeks were flushed red as he looked down at his lap, but whether this was from embarrassment or anxiety, she didn't know. Fascinated, Amy watched his magnificent brain go to work, cataloguing the current tone she was using to speak to him and her body language and trying to calculate how to best adapt himself to this new, hostile environment. It was obvious he'd plotted out this evening very carefully and this was far from how he'd expected it to go. She could read the rising panic in his body movements, but he was fighting it off strenuously. His fists clenched tightly in his lap and, taking a deep breath, he raised his head to look at her once more. Unfortunately, his gaze snagged on something else instead.
"Do you know you have a rip in your tights?"
"Yes."
"Do you wish for me to wait for you to go change?"
"No."
"You can't be comfortable like that," he said, tilting over to examine the damage closely. "I can see your entire knee."
Something about him saying that was erotic, but Amy pushed all that feeling away and focused on the matter at hand. "Get started, Sheldon."
Clearing his throat, he said, "I will begin my explanation by reminding you that, had you abided by the established parameters of the relationship agreement, none of this would have happened."
"If you are talking about that ridiculous section on refraining from surprising each other, I would caution you to get on with your explanation as my patience is wearing thin. I am very near to throwing you out of here and terminating your beloved relationship agreement entirely," she retorted.
Blue eyes widened. He considered this briefly before nodding. "Very well. I would first like to explain the presence of Candace. As you know, my assistant Alex is out of town this week due to the death of her grandmother. As I am very busy—more so right now because of my impending deadline with Kripke on Friday—it is vital that I have someone at my beck and call to take care of trivial things I do not have time to complete. I tried to put a request in through Human Resources for temporary help. However, the timeframe they gave me for fulfilling the request was not acceptable. From time to time, students at the university have made themselves available to me in this capacity in exchange for being allowed to bask in the presence of brilliance like mine. Candace made an offer, and I saw no harm in accepting it until such time as Alex returns next week. That is all."
That is all? Hardly. "If that is all, why didn't you mention her in our daily correspondence?"
"Because it was an irrelevant detail."
"Sheldon," she said with an irritated sigh, "this week alone you have told me what you've consumed for lunch, the daily temperature in your office, and complained about how the orange shirt Kripke was wearing was not, in fact, orange, but coral in color."
"It was. I tried to get Kripke to see my point, but he refused—"
"My point," she interjected, "is that you share every other nuance of your day with me. Yet, you introduce a new person into your life and you choose not to share that with me. How is that supposed to make me feel?"
Sheldon snorted. "Make you feel? When did we become hippies interested in waxing poetic over every little emotion our hormones decide to impress upon us?"
"Then you are saying you don't care how I feel?"
His eyes darted around, wary again. Apparently, his senses were telling him he was entering dangerous territory here. "As your boyfriend, it is also my job to be aware of your overall happiness and well-being. It's in the relationship agreement, after all."
"'To be aware'? But not to actually do anything about maintaining that happiness and well-being?"
"If your happiness and well-being are brought about by my including these types of less-than-relevant details of my life in our various communications, I can make efforts to do so in the future." He smiled widely at her, his eyes glazing over with an inorganic contentment.
"That's your koala face, Sheldon," she accused. "If you think that is going to get you out of this mess you have made, you're wrong. In the meantime, I will tell you that I think. I think the reason you didn't tell me about Candace is because you knew I would question why a woman like her is pressing her ample bosom against my boyfriend's back. I also would have pointed out to you that the girl is obviously enamored with you and would, therefore, do anything for you."
"But I have no such feelings for her," he blurted. "That should count for something. And, I have always forced her to maintain a clinical distance from me. You know how I dislike physical touch of any kind. You are my girlfriend; so you are allowed to touch me. With anyone else, however, this would be abhorrent. Therefore, as the girl has not touched me in a romantic manner and I have not touched her at all—nor do I have any wish or plans to do so in the future—I see no reason for you to be upset about this matter."
It was the wrong thing to say, but it was clear from the satisfied smirk currently widening across Sheldon's face that he didn't understand that.
"So, you think using this poor girl's affections to get what you want is all right as long as you don't touch her or return those affections?"
"Yes," he quickly agreed. However, as he apparently took note of the fury clouding her expression, he changed his mind. "No?"
"Do you not see how slimy an individual that makes you, Sheldon Cooper? How would you feel if someone was using your affection for someone to force you to do something you didn't want?"
"Slimy?" he repeated, resentment infusing his features. "You think I'm slimy?"
"Your actions certainly are."
"Yeah? Well, you do the same thing all the time," he accused, petulantly.
That stopped Amy cold. "Excuse me?"
"You use our attachment to each other to force me to physically touch you." He nodded to himself, seeming pleased with the point he was making. He also took advantage of her shocked silence. "I have made it plain from the beginning of our acquaintance that I did not wish to have a romantic relationship with anyone. Issues like the ones we are having tonight more than highlight my wisdom on that front. Yet, there you always are, pushing and pushing at me to do things I have no interest in doing. First, you make me ask you to be my girlfriend."
"Make you? I made you do that?" she sputtered, so incensed she could barely breathe. Is this how he really feels? How he's always felt?
"Yes. So, I compromised and made you my girlfriend. Do you know how hard a concept that even was for me to imagine or how difficult it was to fit that role into my already busy life? I even labored intently to fashion a relationship agreement that would benefit both of us."
"Benefit both of us?"
"Are you going to repeat what I said all night? If so, we're going to be here a very long time," he said, before jumping back into the argument. "Then, after I give you the honor of being my girlfriend, is that good enough for you? No. You have to keep pushing and pushing." His voice went up an octave as he mimicked her. "Hold my hand, Sheldon. Hug me, Sheldon. Celebrate Valentine's Day with me, Sheldon. Be more intimate with me, Sheldon. Does it matter to you how Herculean a task this is for me? How much Hell I have to go through just to think about touching you? Do you even know? Does it stop you? No. You always want more, more, more. It's never enough."
Amy closed her eyes, feeling like she'd just been slapped. She focused on breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Don't you dare cry. Crying will only make this worse. He doesn't get a single tear from you. She finally opened her eyes again to find him staring at her. His hands were stretched out to her, almost as if he'd considered offering her comfort, but couldn't make himself do it.
"I always force you?"
He nodded, but didn't speak. His hands dropped uselessly in his lap. Sheldon seemed to realize he'd crossed some line he couldn't come back from. His body stiffened as if he were waiting for her to attack him.
"First, I would remind you, Sheldon Cooper, that I never asked you to make me your girlfriend. I never even said the word 'girlfriend' to you. It was only after I began dating Stuart that you decided to pay attention to me in that arena. You decided. On your own." He opened his mouth to reply, but the look she gave him dared him to speak. His mouth closed back with a snap.
"Second, the relationship agreement has never benefitted anyone but you. Its sole purpose is to keep me at arm's length and to regulate everything in our relationship according to your satisfaction, comfort, and happiness. So don't even try to say you wrote that thing for me."
When he tried to interrupt again, she arched a brow at him. "Did I give you the impression I was done?"
His jaw fell open in surprise.
"Third," she continued as though he'd done nothing, "I have always been more than aware of your handicaps in the area of physical affection—"
"Handicaps?" he yelped, offended.
"Handicaps," she reiterated. "I have always been aware and patient as I, myself, have, in the past, been the kind of person who has not enjoyed all the unnecessary touching that comes along with everyday life. However," She glared at him lest he think she was in any way agreeing with the load of monkey feces he'd been flinging her way, "I've also worked hard to help you overcome these handicaps in order to not only assure my felicity, but, more importantly, yours.
"Fourth, I have never forced you to do anything. Every touch we have ever shared has first been initiated by you. You took my hand first during Howard's launch into space. You—"
"Oh no, missy," he argued. "No you don't. You kissed me first. You were drunk at the time, but you still did it. Then, you did it again when I gave you the tiara."
"And you kissed me twice this summer while Leonard was away. Then, the night of Leonard's homecoming party you kissed me," she threw out, "with tongue." There was a slight pause where she watched his cheeks redden again. She could see in his expression that his eidetic memory was replaying it all for him right now. "You kissed me of your own free will that night, Sheldon Cooper. You kissed me long and hard and deep. It was the kind of kiss a boyfriend shares with a girlfriend, and it made me the happiest I have ever been in my life."
A tear fell down her cheek, but she didn't try to stop it. She was too far gone for that. She got up from the couch simply to put distance between them. "But, tonight, you have made me the saddest I have ever been. You come here, and you tell me all these hurtful things trying to cover up your own juvenile actions. You try to blame me for the issues in this relationship when they are clearly your issues. I've been patient with you, Sheldon. But no more. I'm done with it. It's time for you to grow a pair and realize what you want in this world."
"Grow a pair?"
She looked plainly at his crotch. "Grow a pair," she repeated until his eyes darted away, uncomfortably. "You either want to be in a real relationship with me or you don't. You're either a boy or a man. The time for riding the fence has come and gone."
He jumped up from the couch as though he were scalded. "I am a man, and this is a real relationship."
"No, it's not. Our friends think it's a joke, and I'm starting to agree."
His eyes glowed in blue fury. "You think this is a joke?"
Before she could answer, he stormed over to her, pulled her into his arms and laid the mother of all kisses on her. Amy protested at first, but he was too far gone to pay attention. He just kept kissing her. Then, when he turned his head slightly and opened his mouth to manipulate her lips with his own, she couldn't help but respond. With a low moan echoing from the back of her throat, she gave herself over to the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Sheldon's arms locked around her waist, jerking her close. His lips pressed and retreated, pressed and retreated again and again until she was dizzy with delight. Her mouth opened under his, taking in the heady taste of his mint toothpaste as his tongue lightly traced the corners of her mouth before diving back in for another swooping kiss.
Then, just as quickly as it started, he broke away from her. He unlaced her hands from around his neck and took steps back to put distance between them. This kiss they had just shared was different from all the others they had traded in the past. This one was ferocity, passion, and possession—everything she'd ever wanted. It was the night of Leonard's party all over again times infinity. This was the man she wanted. This was the man he'd been so close to being over the summer, the one who had retreated from her after the night of the party.
And, boy, is he back with a vengeance.
Amy's lips throbbed in tempo with her heartbeat, but she barely registered it. She was too busy gaping at this creature across from her. His eyes were dilated, his breathing was haggard, and his face was flushed. But it was the determined expression hardening his features that really sucked her in.
"Well," he asked, running his gaze over her like a beast marking his territory. "Who's laughing now?"
