Chapter Twenty-Five: Resistance is Futile

Amy opened the door to her apartment, more exhausted than she could ever remember being.

"About time you got here."

She looked up and rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" she asked, more to herself than the current smirking occupant of her couch. "Where's Lily?"

"I got Dooley to pick her up. You know I don't make idle threats," Emily answered.

"Do I want to know how you got in?"

Tossing her purse on a nearby chair, Amy walked past the couch and into the kitchen, setting down her work laptop on her desk before continuing into the kitchen.

"Some things never change, little sis," Emily said, swinging up from the couch. "You gave Dad a key. I had Dooley borrow it."

"Steal it, you mean," Amy grumbled, opening the fridge to get a bottle of water. She spied three bottles of Yoohoo on the top shelf. This reminded her of Sheldon, who, besides a short text message at lunch, had not contacted her today. Of course, her mind had been filled with him and the memories of their night together. No doubt, he'd been a lot more productive today than she had. For some reason, that bothered her more than it should have.

"Emergencies, by definition, call for improvising," Emily said with a wave of her hand. "You refused to cooperate. What else could I do?"

"Grant your sister her privacy? Have you considered that the goings on of my bedroom are none of your business?"

Emily actually looked taken aback at that. "Not my business? Surely you're joking. My little sister, the one who told me no less than five years ago that love is unnatural and unworthy of her time, is now not only knocking boots with a guy, but a guy she is desperately in love with and I'm not supposed to ask questions?"

Amy sighed and leaned back against the cold, metal door of the fridge. "I said I found the notion of romantic love to be an unnecessary social construct that adds no value to human relationships. If you're going to quote me, at least quote me correctly."

"My point is that you, the girl who didn't believe in love, are now in love and in a real, honest to goodness, romantic relationship involving sex. And you think I'm not supposed to be curious about that? When I fell for Dooley, you gave me a box of condoms, a pamphlet on common sexually transmitted diseases, and delivered a lecture on why I shouldn't allow myself to become emotionally involved based on nothing more than a 'biological urge to procreate' or something like that. When I told you I was in love, you then delivered another lecture on how love is nothing more than an influx of chemicals in the brain."

"So?"

"So," Emily said through gritted teeth, "when you found out Dooley and I were engaged, you made me watch a two-hour documentary on the mating habits of the Capuchin monkey and I'm still not exactly sure why. And you know how much I loathe documentaries."

"I was trying to make a point about the importance of dominance in the—never mind. I didn't like Dooley at the time, but I have since changed my mind."

"Good."

"I also didn't beg for details about your sex life."

"Your loss. Now tell me about last night."

Amy groaned in frustration. Perhaps she should argue this from a different angle. "Sheldon has been my boyfriend for many years now—why the sudden interest in our sexual activities?"

"Because you lied about having a sexual relationship in the first place. Plus, when you talked about him before, he just seemed like some kind of experiment you were conducting. I thought you guys were having sex, sure. But I assumed it was more like a sterile, sciency kind of thing where you measure the length of your orgasms or his sperm count or something. Believe me, hon, I love you, but you were sometimes a weird person to be around when you were a kid."

Great, Amy thought, my sister thinks I'm Alfred Kinsey. "I lied about the nature of my relationship with Sheldon because of Mom. I told you this."

"Yes, but you also lied to me. Me, Amy. Since when do you lie to me? I would expect that out of Harper, but you?"

Guilt stabbed at Amy. "I'm sorry about that, but—"

Emily didn't let her finish. She just shook her head in disdain and went in for the kill. "I thought we were closer than that. And to find out you held on to your virginity this long. That means it had real value to you. The fact that you gave it up last night to Sheldon—especially considering everything you've told me about you two that has happened over the last week—this is a major rite of passage. How can you not expect me to want to talk about it with you, to share this moment with you?"

That almost did it. In fact, if it hadn't been for the fact that she and Sheldon had already agreed to keep their carnal activities to themselves, Amy might have given in. It was always hard to deny Emily, but when she was looking at her with her green eyes glittering with the unshed tears behind her glasses and the bittersweet smile of someone having a deeply emotional moment, it was nearly impossible.

Amy's mind searched frantically for something, anything to throw Emily off course. "I never said I was a virgin before last night."

And, just like that, the eyes dried up and the smile turned to a frown. Emily closed the distance between them, backing Amy against the refrigerator and looking deeply at her. Amy hated when she did that. It was like being stripped naked in public. You couldn't run or hide when she did that—even though Amy tried by looking at the floor.

"Amy."

On reflex, she glanced up and got trapped in her sister's gaze. Damn it. Unwillingly, the memory of last night replayed in her mind leading up to the moment when Sheldon repeatedly worried he might have hurt her and her rush to allay his fears. Him picking up her hand and nestling into it so sweetly. An unwilling rush of warmth flooded her cheeks and heart. Amy blinked, trying to push it all aside before she gave anything away. But, apparently, it was too late.

The oldest Fowler daughter stepped back, eyes narrowing with understanding. "You were a virgin until last night. Not only that, but so was he. Hmm. The plot thickens."

"I'm an adult in my thirties, Emily. This isn't your business."

"Age doesn't matter."

"Yes it does."

"I'm right about the virginities, aren't I?"

Amy bit her lip, refusing to admit anything. "I've always hated this about you."

Emily shrugged. "Your supreme intelligence doesn't always engender affection in me for you either. Remember Paul Evans? He was my first boyfriend. The star quarterback. So charming. The first guy to show real interest in me. The first to ask me out. My first kiss. The first one I thought I loved."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Amy frowned defiantly. She refused to feel guilty about that. "He was cheating on you. He deserved what he got."

"He spent two days puking because of you. What did you put in his drink? Ipecac?"

"Visine," Amy said. "Two drops will lay anyone low. And I'm still not sorry. You were my sister. It was my job to protect you."

"You were ten-years-old."

"Age doesn't matter. You were still my sister."

"Exactly. Glad you agree." Emily grinned and pushed her glasses up her nose. "Now tell me about last night."

Amy gasped. She'd been led right into that one. "You should have been a lawyer," she grumbled.

"I'm a better teacher. It means I can catch the little pre-convicts sooner and put them on the right path." She winked. "Just admit I'm right and spill."

But Amy wasn't going to give in, no matter how honed Emily's debating skills were. "I don't need you to protect me from Sheldon. He would never hurt me."

"He already has, and if he does again, he will have a sight more to worry about than Visine in his Coke, I assure you. But that isn't my point here." She cocked her head to the side, as if intent on studying Amy. "You just had this big moment happen to you. Why don't you want to share it with me?"

"It's private and personal. Besides, I promised Sheldon."

There was a long pause. Amy used it to move around her sister and begin wiping down the already-clean counters. Anything to be away from that knowing gaze. Her phone vibrated in the pocket of her skirt. She pulled it out. Another missed call from her mother. She pressed "ignore" and set the phone on the counter. One family member was enough to deal with right now.

"Fine," Emily finally said, "You win, Amy. I'll drop it."

Amy released the breath she'd been holding and kept her back to her sister. "Thank you."

"It's bound to make this weekend more fun anyway."

Amy turned, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You're bringing him to the wedding, right?"

"No."

"No?"

"No." And, with that, Amy walked past her sister back into the living room.

"You're back together, aren't you? How can you still not be bringing him?"

Plopping down on the sofa, Amy said, "Things are new between us. I don't want to ruin it by pushing him to do something he's never seemed that keen on doing in the first place."

"Amy," Emily chided from the kitchen, "when you're in a relationship with someone, you have to meet the parents sooner or later. He has to know this."

"He does, and he will. Just not now. I told you. I don't want to push things. We just got back together."

"Have you met his parents?" Emily asked, finally plopping down on the sofa next to her.

"I met his mother. His father died a long time ago."

"So you met his mother, but he doesn't have to meet yours?"

"He has met Mom. Via Skype, remember?"

"That doesn't count. You weren't really dating then."

"He still met her. It counts."

"Does he love you?"

Amy snapped around to stare at her sister. "Yes."

"Did you have to think about it?"

"No."

"Has he said so?"

"Yes."

"Out loud?"

"Yes."

"When? Last night in the throes of passion?"

"No." As Emily was staring at her in that way of hers again, Amy looked away. "Look, I don't expect you to believe me, but he does love me. You don't understand Sheldon, how he's put together. Last night couldn't have happened if he didn't love me."

Crinkling her forehead, Emily sat back on the couch and shook her head. "I don't think I want to know what that means. But, if he does love you as you say, he should want to meet your family—especially considering that a big wedding is happening this weekend."

Amy sighed heavily, letting the air escape with a loud hiss through her teeth so Emily would know how tedious and intrusive this conversation was becoming. "He doesn't know about this weekend, and I plan to keep it that way. He can meet you all another time. When he and I are more … stable."

"Stable? Haven't you guys worked everything out? Isn't that why you had sex finally?"

"Sort of," she murmured.

There was a long pause. Amy was sure her sister was considering all of the ramifications of her statement and formulating the best way to get to the bottom of all of this. For her part, Amy was scrambling to come up with a way to get her sister out of her apartment quickly.

"Don't read anything into that, Emily," she blurted out. "We are just rebuilding our relationship after some major changes. It's perfectly normal that there would be stability issues during this time."

Emily stayed quiet, her finger tapping indolently against her closed lips as she stared off into the distance, apparently lost in thought.

"He and I will have a long talk and work things out. There just hasn't been time."

Emily frowned, as if something strange had just occurred to her, but kept her eyes focused on the far wall.

Amy groaned. "Bringing him to the wedding would only make it worse. You know how Harper can be, how Dad can be, how Mom can be. I don't want Sheldon around them until we got everything between us sorted." Amy hated to admit it—even to herself—but the fact that there was no relationship agreement between herself and Sheldon bothered her. Sure, she'd written a few lines on a piece of paper and signed it for him. And, yes, they'd consummated their relationship the previous evening, but there was something about having their signatures on a codified, notarized document that gave her peace of mind.

Peace she didn't currently have. She'd been so concerned about a possible post-coital freak out on Sheldon's part that she hadn't had time to consider anything else. Then, when she'd asked him if he was coming over to her apartment tonight, he'd looked at her like she'd lost her mind and reminded her of Halo night.

"Halo," she grumbled to herself. Some things never changed. They'd just had sex—taken their relationship to the ultimate level. Was it too much to want him to want to change his schedule to see her again? To think that maybe he couldn't spend another hour not in her company? But she'd fallen in love with Sheldon Cooper and he was going to be Sheldon no matter what.

When the depth of her thoughts eased and she came back to herself, she noticed she was being observed. The same look on Emily's face as when she was trying to get to the core of someone. Amy blushed, remembering all she'd just thought about Sheldon and feeling somewhat guilty for thinking it.

"What?"

Emily said nothing, just kept watching her.

"I'm not bringing him. Not now. That's it, and there is nothing you can do to change my mind." Amy turned away and picked up the remote to the television, intent on doing anything but continuing this conversation. She flicked it on and had settled on a show apparently devoted to the lifecycle of a honeybee. Not only was the film interesting, it had the added benefit of being a documentary. No doubt, her sister would be itching to leave any moment.

For fifteen long minutes, neither woman moved from her place on the couch or spoke. Finally, during the second commercial break, Emily said, "You are sure we can't talk about this like rational adults?"

"No," Amy affirmed, not looking over.

Out of the corner of her eye, Amy saw Emily pull a phone from the pocket of her pants. Typing in a concise message, she tucked the phone back in her pants and turned her attention back to the television. Amy sighed in relief, sure Dooley had just been informed that Emily was on her way home. Another few minutes and she'll leave, she told herself.

Ten more minutes passed. Emily didn't move. At the next commercial break, curiosity won out. Amy glanced over at her sister. "You hate documentaries."

"Yep."

"It's getting late."

"It's not even seven yet."

"The kids and Dooley need you."

"Not as much as you apparently do."

Amy harrumphed. "So what's the plan? Hang around until I break? It's not going to happen."

"It's worked before."

"Not since I was eight. You're not taller or bigger than me anymore, remember? Plus, I am infinitely more intelligent."

Emily shrugged. "We'll see."

"It's not going to happen."

"OK."

There was something unsettling about how quickly and nonchalantly Emily agreed to that. It was like she was expecting it. "What are you going to do when I don't talk?"

"You don't want to talk? No problem. I'll just talk to Sheldon. It's time he and I met."

Amy rolled her eyes. Sheldon wasn't coming over tonight, and he wouldn't be coming to the wedding. So, Emily speaking to him couldn't happen. If she thought otherwise it was—

An impossible idea occurred to her. No, she wouldn't. Yet, the more Amy thought about it, the more this impossible idea suddenly started to seem very, very possible. She looked around for her phone, unable to see it anywhere. No, no, no, she thought, getting up off the couch. She remembered having set it on the counter in the kitchen when she'd been cleaning up in there. But it clearly wasn't there now. The gleam on the counter stared back at her, almost mockingly.

Amy closed her eyes at the ramifications of her findings. Her phone was missing. Emily was notoriously nosy and could be quite clever if she put her mind to it. She was also hardheaded when it came to getting what she wanted. More hardheaded than Harper if the occasion called for it.

No, she wouldn't dare. Would she? Amy swallowed the sick feeling currently collecting in her throat. Only one way to find out. "Emily," she calmly asked from the kitchen, "do you know where my phone is?"

"Yep."

"Do you have it?"

"Yep."

Amy swallowed again, forcing out the last and hardest question. "Did you just use it to text Sheldon?"

"Yep." There was a pause. "Oh, and by the way, he's coming over."