A/N: Getting down to business now... don't worry, theres still lots of fluff to come. This chapter is a little M, expect violence and/or smut from now on.

I do not own the Big Bang Theory but Christine is totally my dream's invention.

"So how long do you think Sheldon is going to keep the comic handcuffed to his wrist?" Howard asked Leonard as they sat down in their usual spots in the Cal Tech cafeteria.

"I'll have you know," Sheldon interjected as he sat as well, slamming the hard sided silver case attached to his wrist on the table. "That Christine has arranged for a safety deposit box in which we will leave it this afternoon after we bring my mother and Meemaw to the airport."

"Oh, leaving so soon?" Raj teased. He knew four days had been a lot for Sheldon.

"I love Meemaw, but she is really cramping my style, so to speak."

And indeed the last few days since Sheldon's party had been a torturous taunt of the woman he yearned for flaunting her assets in front of him, he having no recourse with his relatives in the couldn't take her on their date until tomorrow night and each passing day felt like a year to him. He was waiting, waiting until the moment he could finally make contact with those soft and supple lips.

But not all of it was bad. On the contrary, he rather enjoyed their games with one another, and having his female relatives in town proved rather useful as he continued planning his perfect date with Christine. His mother had a way of getting information out of Christine, like the fact that she hasn't been on safari since she was little, it was her favorite activity with her father. He knew how to remedy that. And Meemaw told him that Christine always seemed very happy whenever he held her hand, so he was given a direct order to engage in public displays of affection with her on the date... that was certainly no challenge. He was so looking forward to it, he started zoning out, forgetting his friends were still talking.

"I still can't believe she gave you that. But Dr. Gablehauser told me that she's loaded, she's working for the university for free, just for something to do." Howard informed them.

"Man. How come Sheldon gets Ms. Perfect?" Raj and Amy were having problems, apparently dating a man that would actually touch people scared the crap out of her.

"She's fantastic but hardly perfect. She scares you all to death, drives me crazy sometimes, drools in her sleep and has the temper of a madwoman but anyhow, I can't claim to know her financial situation. However I am struck with how valuable a gift she has given me. Perhaps on our date tomorrow I should give her my signed photo of Patrick Stewart dressed as Jean-Luc Picard. He is her favorite character of any fictional universe."

"I think that's a nice gesture Sheldon." Leonard was proud of his friend. He was still the same obnoxious man who needed someone to rub vaporub on his chest, sing soft kitty, adhere to his routine and drive him to work. But now Christine took over most of those duties. Most days of the week she would drive him in, even if she had no classes to teach that day.

But Sheldon had grown a lot as well. He began taking time off work, a few hours here or there, to spend time with her, watch a movie or have a large breakfast. Today he was leaving work early for the airport drop off and informed his friends he was unsure as to whether he would be making it to the comic book store that night.

Right after lunch Leonard walked Sheldon out to the parking lot to wait for Christine to pick him up and give his last goodbye to Sheldon's relatives. Meemaw became a particular favorite person of his during their visit. Who can't love a woman who makes sugar cookies like she invented them?

As he watched Sheldon take off with the three women in his life, he began to wonder if Sheldon would be his roommate much longer.

-T—B—B—T—

It had been three hours now. After Christine and Sheldon had left the bank her happy and affectionate mood had drastically switched to one of near paranoia- if Sheldon read her right. Perhaps he was simply mistaken; human interactions still retained a great deal of mystery for him.

But then why did she drive him directly to the comic book store and leave him there for Leonard to bring home? She had just been saying how she was terribly anxious for their date and then boom, she's pushing him out the car door! He thought for sure they were going to go back to his apartment and watch Firefly. He had even created a five point plan to introduce cuddling into their relationship. That was all ruined now as he played Halo with his friends, continuously getting KOd because he was so distracted worrying about her.

Where could she be? It was not like her to run off. Did he offend her somehow? Did she need time alone after the several days of being surrounded by himself and his family?

"Sheldon." She marched in looking like a Matrix goddess. Long black trench coat, her boots she always hides a blade in, a leather bag hanging from one arm. Oh how he wanted her as she breathed laboriously and small beads of sweat began to highlight the rosy blush on her face. "I need you." Her voice was breathy, moaning and pleading. "Right. Now."

He was on his feet and halfway to the door before he realized he made the decision to do whatever she wanted tonight. He was entirely in her hands, those soft talented hands.

"Wfffheuuww." He heard Howard's suggestive whistle as he closed the door. He nearly paused at the offense before he looked at the woman currently pulling him by his wrist.

Damn the no whistling rule, he had no time for his penal system right now.

[Bazinga. Puns are fun.]

-T-B—B—T—

When she placed her hand in the center of his chest and gently pushed him to the middle of her sofa he flashed back to the last time she made him sit there.

Meemaw seemed to have preferred his 0,0,1,0 to any other spot in Christine's apartment. He began a small panic as he knew he would never dare ask his elder to move even if he had no other seat of comfort in the room.

Christine watched Sheldon begin to pace about the room, trying to map his areas of comfort, obviously taking into account that Christine had claimed the middle as her own.

"Sheldon, could you help me in the kitchen?"

He nodded and walked over to her. "What would you like me to do? I could chop that pepper if you like." He was relieved to delay his little dilemma for any amount of time. Christine handed him the pepper.

"Are you alright there sweetie?"

"You know how I feel about my spot."

"Sit in mine." She offered. This didn't have to be complicated, but of course, this was Sheldon.

"But it's your spot. Not mine. Where would you sit? It's going to throw everything off. I am used to you on my right side where I could easily wrap my arm around you or pass you the low sodium soy sauce."

Christine took real pleasure in that. He was the most patient man she ever met when it came to the physical side of things but of course all the waiting was even starting to get to him. He hadn't attempted to wrap an arm around her since he rescued her from the elevator shaft, but he spent time thinking about it, apparently.

She stared straight ahead, stirring the bowl in front of her as she stood beside him and let her left hand drop to her side before slowly letting it rise across his perfect little ass. She had to use all the focus she could muster to keep a straight face as she felt him stiffen against her. He was such putty in her hands.

Apparently she was putty in his as well. He ever so slowly allowed his right hand wander from supervising the food on the stove and trail up her inner thigh, so lightly and so teasingly close to her special spot. Oh God she was melting and it had nothing to do with the heat in the kitchen.

She couldn't let him have the upper hand this round. She lazily let her hand trail down the small scoop of his bottom and lace itself between the warm flesh of his upper thighs, her finger tips beginning to peak out towards the front. Sheldon had to lean both hands against the counter firmly to keep from buckling over. Never, never did he expect he could be so aroused and out of his control he held for so many years and it all happen with his mother and Meemaw just a few feet away. Oh lord she was trying to give him a fatal arrhythmia.

"Christine hunny!" Mrs. Cooper called to her. "Do you have any more of that wonderful tea you've been on about?"

"Coming right up Mrs. Cooper!" She looked to Sheldon, still in his pleasured daze. He was hardly holding it together so she left go to make the tea.

He helped her carry the plates and drinks to the living room before both having to return for the condiments, she took her opportunity to strike while he bent over in the refrigerator.

"Just so you know Sheldon," she pressed herself against his back so he could feel her bust as she whispered behind his ear. "Next time I get anywhere near that region of your body I won't be stopped." She could hear him gulp. With satisfaction she pulled away and suggested out loud. "I'll take the arm chair; sit between your mom and meemaw Sheldon."

He was too dazed to argue.

The flashback was not helping Sheldon retain control of the situation. He was already feeling the stirs of arousal as Christine began to lower herself to the train case in front of him. Panic was starting to set in. She had been teasing him all week so far but they were still keeping to their pact and going to have their first goodnight kiss on their date tomorrow. Why is it that the small action of meeting lips to lips was beginning to seem like the most important quest in his world? Shouldn't all their little erotic to and fro's be more of the focus here? Especially incidents like when she suggested they add a roller blading component to kite fighting when everyone decided to spend Monday pre-evening with a picnic in the park?

Sheldon began to put up a real fight at the onslaught against his schedule. Usually Christine was respectful of his routines and was more than happy to cook his Thai every Monday night. But she became insistent that Meemaw and Mary needed to enjoy some of the California sun and weather before they left in a couple days.

"Fine! I will go but I won't be eating anything. I rather starve than put off the schedule of my bowel movements." Sheldon stomped in protest.

"Listen mister. I spent all day preparing a picnic which you wouldn't put up a fuss over. Do you have any idea how hard it is to talk Domino's into letting you buy one of their heated delivery bags just so I could keep your chicken warm? I had to flash the owner!"

"You what! I haven't even seen them and you are running around prostituting yourself for warm chicken?" He was all anger now, but she suspected it was not at her, but rather the owner of that Domino's franchise down the street.

"He only saw my bra. Apparently that was spectacular enough."

Sheldon paused for a moment letting his eyes run over the contours of her perky and well-rounded chest. Yes, he could see how that could be enough.

"Are you coming or what?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"Good." Part one of the argument down, part two to go. "And you'll need to wear these." She handed him a helmet, knee pads and shin guards.

"Whatever for? Kite fighting is hardly a contact sport."

"True. But we took a vote and my suggestion won. We added roller blading to the game."

"No!" he was terrible at roller blading, he would probably cling to whoever was around him just to try to stay erect.—he really needed to stop mentally using that word when around Christine.

"Yes!" she challenged back. This ought to be fun.

Everyone decided to wait downstairs by the cars so as to not have to witness anymore of the World War III argument erupting in the apartment. It amused them all, and terrified them as well. These two could be explosive when they argued. If Sheldon was stubborn, Christine was equally so.

"I'm not doing it." He took a defiant step closer to her. She mimicked the action.

"You will do it." But he was just a tad more stubborn and forceful than she in the matter." He backed her to the wall and tried to ignore his body's response to the contact. "You're the one that wants this. Why are you challenging me so?"

Christine forgot they were arguing as she felt the pressure of him firmly building against her stomach as her back hit the wall. She could get out of this, for sure, if she wanted, but damn it she couldn't even remember if she cared.

The light bulb finally clicked for Sheldon when Christine involuntarily closed her eyes in delight. He had been stalking her like prey in his anger and he liked it, and so did she. She liked the alpha in him, the male force in which he could exude his influence. She was the prize female of their group, the alpha in her own right and she was his for the hunting and the taking.

He pulled her leg above his hip and pulled her pelvis up to match his so her feet dangled inches above the floor. The shock on her face made the pain of her nails digging into his back all the more rewarding. She wrapped herself around him, pulling him closer to her. She was entirely at his mercy and for once that was not a scary prospect. It only served to heighten the sensitivity of every nerve of her body and want to say 'hell with it! Claim me!' to her blue eyed captor.

He whispered into her hair, taking in her natural scent of lemon and vanilla. "You like this?" he asked as he ever so slightly ground himself into her. It was a micro-movement but it had the desired effect as it elicited a breathless moan and nod to the affirmative. "Will you behave and stop pestering me about this?" Again, another breathless nod.

"Good." He let her down and straightened himself out. "I'll be waiting for you down in the car."

She had no idea how the tables of seduction turned. When the hell did Sheldon learn how to do that?

He was really beginning to feel the effects of these memories as he had to wipe the sweat of his brow with the back of his hand. It was only getting worse as he found himself visibly mesmerized as Christine began to unbutton her blouse. Her movements were slow but with purpose. Each button revealed more flesh, more of that sweet pink skin he hoped to see but hadn't dared think it would happen for several long—is that blood?

Christine noted the moment Sheldon realized she didn't bring him up here to seduce him. He saw the blood, and there was a lot more where that came from.

"What happened? Are you alright? Do you need a hospital?" Sheldon rushed the words out as he reached to her and tore the rest of the shirt open. Her stomach was covered in blood but no wounds were visible, instead it looked like smears.

"My back Sheldon." She swiveled herself so he could see the small bits of shrapnel that had cut right through the fabric. There had to be thirty little marks all over her. No wonder she was flushed, sweaty and seemingly out of control… she was suppressing a great deal of pain.

She hoped he wouldn't panic as she slipped her blouse off. "Sweetie, I need you to get these out of me. I'll guide you." She looked back and he shook his head no as he continued to stare at her back. "You have to. I can't go to the hospital… they would ask too many questions."

He was still. Entirely still. He couldn't do this! He had no training. She was the trauma surgeon, she should do it. But she can't, it's her back, she can't get to them and she shouldn't have to. He should take care of her the way she takes care of him. He swallowed a nervous gulp.

"Ok. What do I do?"

Christine's relief was audible. She handed him a suture kit and tweezers and instructed him on how to clear the scrap metal from her skin and decide if the wound would need sutures. Thank God she fell in love with a genius who could master almost anything immediately.

His hands were shaking at first but he finally got a rhythm. After the first ten shards of metal were removed and only two needed a suture or two, Sheldon let himself ask what he desperately needed to know.

He broke their silence. "What happened?"

This moment was going to come sooner or later. She had to try to trust him. She could lie, should lie, probably. But she wouldn't betray his trust in her that way. This was too big. This would monumentally change his view of her, but hopefully not his opinion.

"I keep knives in my boots and an armory of weapons built into a compartment under my bed. I have twenty seven passports just for myself. I can kill a man with a simple weapon in little time… you have seen this with the mugger. I eat three cups of yogurt a day to keep my strength. I have nearly unlimited financial resources, no family and constantly disappear to God knows where." She breathed, she never uttered the words to anyone before, they would sound so stupid and so unbelievable coming from her lips. "My real first name is Christine but she is also an alias I had to adopt from as young as four years old, when I met Dr. Gablehauser and my intelligence was revealed."

She could tell he was listening. He made no sound, comment or gesture but she knew she had his full attention. "The man this identity called her father was really her armed guard and educator, hired by my real father to protect me. My mother had posed as my governess and my brother her son, until I was eleven years old."

She felt the last of the shrapnel leave her skin with a delicate ache as Sheldon placed a small bandage over the wound. She turned back to face him. "My father thought it would be safe now, safe to let my mother drop the pretense so long as she still retained a different name from his own. Nowhere in the world could she have an official relationship with him or with me. It would mean she would be a target for leverage against him. Both her and my brother were liabilities for both of us."

She held a deep breath experimentally. She must have bruised a rib in the blast; at least it probably was not broken. "I on the other hand was an entirely different type of liability. My intelligence was the problem. If a foreign operative got his hands on me they would never let me go, leverage or not. I would be too valuable to force to their will, too able to become the perfect agent to use against my father and against my country. He had taken to utilizing me in missions as part of his cover before he realized how advanced I was, that I already had picked up on so many secrets I was a threat to several regimes. I had to be trained my whole life to be what I am and avoid capture or death, and I only accepted it when my mother and brother died in my trauma ward, warning me it was time."

This was harder than she thought. Honesty was not something she had much experience with in her life. "I am only telling you this because I absolutely trust you. Most people in my situation never tell a soul of their place. I haven't until right now. Once my mother died, the secret was never spoken again."

She took his hand pleadingly. "You have to understand that my life is in danger. I would have broken this to you differently otherwise."

Sheldon absorbed this. Her mother died in her care, her brother as well. She was telling him she was brought up like this, trained to be the vital soul she was. She was trained to be protective, programed to be the warrior princess that he so loved. She had a great trust in him to say all this, that he would keep her safe and accept her true identity. He could accept this, but he had to know for sure.

"I understand what you are saying to me. You don't have to worry; I will keep your secret. I care too greatly to endanger you." She closed her eyes in relief. He was taking this so well.

"But there is something I have to know. You have to say the word."

"What word?" She couldn't do this. That would be too open, she never said the word aloud even in casual conversation or discussion of an action movie.

"You have to tell me your primary occupation, Christine." His voice was firm. He had to hear it aloud to escape from the fear he was assuming all the wrong things.

"I can't."

"You have to."

"I can't! I just can't!"

"Say the word Chrissy. Or I will never believe you."

"Chrissy?" he never called her that before.

"Say it!"

She resigned, he deserved this peace of mind, this assured knowledge that he was not in fact going off his rocker.

"Say it!"

- "Spy."