Chapter Thirty-Eight
"Oh, what fresh hell is this?"
Sheldon Cooper (TBBT Season 4)
"The Engagement Reaction"
If Amy hadn't known better, she would have thought Sheldon was going to break up with her.
All indicators certainly supported this hypothesis. The accelerated breathing, the sweat beading along her boyfriend's forehead, his inability to hold her gaze, the pacing, and the constant wringing of his hands were all classic symptoms of a nervous man about to end things once and for all.
No! What happened? What did I do?
It was only when he stopped pacing and turned on her with a grave, let's-get-this-over-with kind of expression that she went into full panic mode. "Sheldon, we don't have to eat tater tot casserole. I can make something else. Give me some time to defrost the hot dogs, and I'll make spaghetti with—"
"Sit down, Amy," he said with the authority of a high school principal.
The finality in his manner made her heart drop into her stomach. She eyed him, fearfully. "I don't want to sit down." If I sit down, you'll break up with me and my whole life will be over.
This seemed to completely stupefy Sheldon, putting a crack in his stoic demeanor. "You have to sit down. It's protocol. I know we're deep in the realm of chaos here, Amy, but that doesn't mean we can't still have order."
She ignored his illogical statement and focused on what was really important. "Are you breaking up with me?" Her voice trembled, so high and small that it squeaked. "Don't break up with me. I love you. Whatever it is I've done wrong, I can fix it. We can redraft the relationship agreement to say whatever you want. If we're going too fast, we can slow down and—"
Sheldon seemed confused by her outburst at first. Then, he marched up to Amy, took her face between his hands and drew her in for a swift, hard kiss. When he moved back, his hands remained cupping her jaw as he carefully looked her over. "Better?" he asked.
Disoriented, she managed a slow nod. "Why did you do that?"
"You looked like you could use a reboot."
Amy couldn't even summon the will to laugh at the idea that he would have to do that for her. "Sheldon, please don't break up with me. I couldn't stand it."
One thumb rubbed lightly over her cheek. "What have I done to you? I'm so sorry. I've made a complete muck of this." He released her and stepped back. "Please calm yourself. I'm not breaking up with you. The mere idea of that is ridiculous. We do, however, need to talk. Now, sit down so we can get started."
She took the requested seat warily. He might not be breaking up with her, but the topic of discussion was clearly serious. As she couldn't imagine what kind of serious it could be, she fretted more. Sheldon grabbed his bag and joined her on the couch. After setting it on floor, he closed his eyes briefly, as though he had to gather his courage to continue forward. His fists clenched and unclenched in his lap.
"Sheldon, whatever this is, we can postpone. We can eat dinner first or talk about it tomorrow."
His eyes popped open. "What? No, too much time has passed already. I've been a coward long enough. I refuse to let fear rule me any longer—well, at least in terms of this. I'm still working on the other areas of my life."
"Fear?" She repeated. Fear of what?
"Yes," he said. "The only way to deal with fear is to confront it head on. You and Meemaw have both said that to me many times in the past. Well, like the mailman and the bird, I'm facing this." Sheldon shifted until he was facing her. "Amy, I must start with a prepared statement, followed by a declaration and then another prepared statement."
A declaration? Could that mean what I think it means? "What kind of declaration?"
"I said a statement and then the declaration." He stared down at the now-clenched fists in his lap. "Don't make me get ahead of myself. This is hard enough as it is."
"I understand. Go ahead," she said, biting her lip in order to stay silent. The sooner she shut up, the sooner he got to this mysterious declaration part.
After another long minute, he looked up at her. "From the moment I met you, all those years ago, a day hasn't gone by when I haven't thought of you. And, now that I'm close to you again, I'm in agony. The closer I get to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you makes my stomach turn over—my mouth goes dry. I feel dizzy. I can't breathe …"
At first, Amy was enthralled. This level of depth and emotion in the words falling so freely from Sheldon's lips—and directed at her—was breathtaking and romantic. However, his monotone delivery, past experience, the fact that what he was saying didn't quite seem to fit their relationship, and too many nights being forced to watch science fiction with him clued her in to what was really going on here.
"Sheldon," she interjected, "are you quoting a movie again?" She searched her memory as diligently as she could. "Star Wars, right? The one where Luke's parents get married?"
He actually smiled at her. "Correct. Very good, Amy. The full title is Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones. Now, if you'll let me finish." He cleared his throat. "'From the moment I met you, all those years ago, a day hasn't gone by when I haven't—'"
"Sheldon," she said with an exasperated sigh, "stop quoting and talk to me. Whatever it is you need to say, say it." She placed her hand over one clasped fist. Amy leaned in close, lowering her voice to a soothing tone. "It's just you and me here. Use your own words."
He shook his head. "My words are inadequate. You deserve better."
"I want your words or none, Sheldon Cooper." She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest.
He took this in, apparently picking up on the fact that she wasn't going to budge on this one. "You're being impossible." Sheldon flounced back against the couch.
She shrugged, unapologetically. "You like it when I'm being impossible. It stimulates you."
He considered this a moment before giving a quick, affirming nod. "Fine, but I want it noted that the quote would have made you cry."
Amy tried not to smile. "It is so noted. You may proceed."
There was a long pause of silence as Sheldon prepared himself. Finally, he exhaled heavily, got to his feet, and started to pace. She watched him flit back and forth a few times before she spoke.
"Sheldon, we don't have to do this now," she offered again, unable to see him this troubled. "We can have a nice dinner, plan what you should say to your brother, and maybe watch a few more episodes of Firefly. I purchased the entire series on DVD."
He stopped pacing and grinned. "You bought Firefly?"
She shrugged. "I liked it, and I thought you might like watching it with me."
Without warning, the grin turned into a scowl. "Here we go again!" He threw his hands up in the air, exasperated and started pacing again.
"What?" Amy asked, at a loss to what had set him off. "What did I do? Doesn't that make you happy?"
"Doesn't that make you happy?" Sheldon parroted. "As if my happiness is all that matters! Here I am trying to figure out how to tell you I love you, and you keep doing all these unselfish things for me. Our relationship should be about equalities and reciprocity. But how can it be when you're always doing stuff for me and I can never do anything for you?" Sheldon stopped to glower at her. "You have no idea how maddening you are sometimes."
Amy didn't reply. She couldn't. Did he say …? Did I really just hear what I think I heard?
"Well?" Sheldon demanded, tapping his foot impatiently. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Say it again."
"Why are you smiling like that? You think this is funny?" he asked, obviously getting more agitated.
"Say it again," Amy repeated, the wide grin on her face getting impossibly wider.
"Fine. You have no idea how maddening you are sometimes. Really, Amy. I don't think you understand how frustrating it is to—"
"That's not the part I meant."
"What part did you mean?" he asked, bewildered. He searched his memory, obviously trying to figure out the answer for himself. Then, his cheeks colored as it came to him. "Drat! I wasn't supposed to blurt it out like that. I intended it to be more romantic. Raj said all women deserve romance. There was the quote, and then I was gonna say it in between that and the other part Raj made me memorize. Then, you would cry and I would kiss you and it would be perfect. I've been practicing and practicing. Raj wanted me to use a quote from Jerry Maguire, but I told him he was being absurd. What's more romantic than Star Wars?"
"You involved Raj in this?"
"Yes, of course." He looked at her as if that were the most normal thing in the world. "I needed an expert in romance. Raj may not be good at finding a girlfriend, but he is good at knowing what women like. Besides, he was willing to forgo his lunch break on Friday to help me out. You didn't think I would tell Leonard, did you? Not only would he have blabbed to Penny—who would have told you—but he has a tendency to make important proclamations in the middle of coitus. Even I know women don't like that."
Amy didn't care about any of that anymore. She got to her feet, only had one thing on her mind. "Say it again, Sheldon. Please."
"You're right. I should do it officially." Taking a deep breath, he blurted, "Iloveyou."
She eyed him until he glanced away, seeming overwhelmed by all that he'd just admitted. "Slower."
Sheldon looked up and stared her down, more determined than she'd ever seen him. "I, Sheldon Lee Cooper, am in love with you, Amy Farrah Fowler." He sighed. "I adore you. I worship you. I love you, and I always will. To my dying day, my heart will solely belong to you. I will never love another—"
He didn't have a chance to finish because she was already kissing him by then. Sheldon protested at first, but the second she wrapped her arms around his neck and angled her head to deepen the kiss, he became a willing participant. Then, he just took over. Like a starving man, he claimed her, rubbing his lips over hers with more and more ferocity until she had to break away just to catch her breath.
His breathing coming in short bursts, Sheldon rested his forehead against hers. "I wasn't finished yet, you vixen. I promised Raj I would say all of that last part and then I was supposed to kiss you. You're distracting me from my mission," he said. "Are you in league with Leonard to drive me insane? How is it supposed to be perfect if you keep interrupting me?"
Amy hugged him, snuggling her face into his chest. "I love you, too," she said. She'd never been this happy before and after the week she'd just spent with Sheldon, that was saying something. "And it was perfect."
"Really?" he asked.
She pulled back and smiled up at him. "Really."
He smirked. "I told Raj a dozen roses was over the top. You're not that kind of woman. I did consider purchasing you a full skeleton, though. I was even going to try to have it engraved. But he forbade it. We had to compromise."
Amy laughed. "Maybe you can give me the skeleton for our anniversary instead. I've always wanted one."
"I knew it!" he yelled, executing an all-male fist pump. "In your face, Koothrappali! Don't tell me what my woman likes." Then, just as quickly, his excitement was covered in an all-business façade. "Well, yes. That's fine. Now, have a seat on the couch, and we can move on to the next part of the evening."
"There's more?" she asked.
"Of course."
As she couldn't imagine what else this evening might have to offer, she gratefully took her place on the sofa. He told me he loves me. I can't believe it. Sheldon set his bag on the coffee table, rifling through its contents. "I had an itinerary planned, but that is all gone to hell now. So, I will have to—pardon my slang—shoot from the hip."
Like a magician producing a rabbit from a hat, he pulled out a thick booklet, spiral bound with in a light blue cover, and handed it to her. Amy skimmed the title even before she had a firm grasp on it.
The Relationship Agreement
A binding covenant between Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper and Dr. Amy Farrah Fowler
(Revised)
She ran her fingers over the cover, so happy to see it. Other women wanted diamond rings or promises vowed before a preacher to feel assured of their men's affections. But this document—and Sheldon's love—was all she would ever need. Amy smiled to herself.
"I've made all the changes we talked about as well as a few additions I felt were required given the current state of our relationship. While you're perusing—if you don't mind—I'm going to use your bedroom to change out of my bus pants. There was a drunk on the bus. I can feel his inebriated germs invading my skin even now."
"Of course," she said. "Help yourself. There's a bottle of Purell on my dresser."
"Thank you. If you see something you wish to negotiate, let me know. You should also feel free to consult an attorney."
She bit her lip so he wouldn't see her grin. "I'll keep that in mind."
He nodded—ever the consummate professional. After grabbing some clothes from his bag, he went into her bedroom and shut the door.
She scanned the document. Sheldon had flagged all the changes, additions, and modifications; so she only read those. Everything seemed to be in order. He had completely rewritten the section on physical affection. There were subsections for hand-holding, cuddling, kissing, and coitus detailing what was and was not allowed in public, the criteria needed for each to occur, frequency allowed in a given day, and an example schedule for coitus. At first glance, it looked overly strict. However, Amy knew enough to read between the lines. Yes, all public displays of affection—except for the Public Showing of Affection clause, of course—were limited to hand-holding. But the only criteria needed for kissing was privacy and for one party to have a desire to kiss the other. In Sheldon terms, this was tantamount to giving her free rein to kiss him anytime she liked. She wanted to scream like a giddy teenager, but restrained herself for fear that it would unnecessarily worry Sheldon. Dignity and decorum, Fowler, she chided herself.
However, all thoughts of that went straight out the window when she made it to the new sections he'd included. The first such one was entitled "Sleepovers".
She read it aloud to herself, unable to believe the print before her. "Sleepovers shall be defined as 'pre-planned overnight assignations between the boyfriend and the girlfriend taking place at either party's apartment and resulting in both individuals sleeping in the same bed. Twenty-four hour's-notice must be given to the host in the event of a sleepover. This notice can be given via the phone, email, text message or other form of verbal communication. The required notice can be waived in the event that both parties agree. Coitus may or may not accompany a sleepover. [See Physical Affection Section, Coitus Subsection for coital criteria.] Hand holding, cuddles, and kisses are expected protocol during this time without need of advanced notice.'"
The section went on to explain that it was the duty of both the boyfriend and the girlfriend to make room at their apartment through the means of a "drawer, closet, and/or other adequate space" to keep the visiting party's clothes and personal paraphernalia.
Her boyfriend had just exited her bedroom when she got to that particular segment. "Sheldon, you want to keep your things here?"
"No," he said, retaking his position next to her. "That would be illogical. Where would we put my comic books?" He shook his head as if she were being overly silly and started pulling his notary supplies from the bag. "The section you're reading merely provides an easement in terms of private space in order to make sleepovers easier. To have you or me carrying clothes and other personal objects back and forth between apartments is most inconvenient—not to mention fraught with issues in the area of hygiene. I have already cleaned out a drawer in my dresser for you and made space in my bathroom for your toothbrush and feminine supplies. I simply require equal measure from you."
"That sounds fair" was all she could manage to say. She was too stunned to utter anything else. This whole night was like a dream come true.
"I have also made the requisite changes to my roommate agreement with Leonard so that he's aware of your increased presence in our apartment. Let me tell you, he was less than happy this morning when I woke him up to sign it. But it wasn't something that could wait." He pouted. "I might have felt guilty about that had it not been for his actions in refusing to bring me to you tonight."
Sheldon looked from her to the agreement. "Are you finished reading? Do you have additional questions?"
She wasn't finished by any means, but Amy also didn't need to read anything else. Sheldon had given her everything she'd ever wanted and then some. It didn't matter if the last few pages said she could never play the harp again. She would still sign it.
"Do you have a pen?"
"You agree to all of it?" he asked, looking surprised. "No exceptions, debates, or negotiations?"
"I agree to all of it," she confirmed.
He sighed as if relieved of a great burden. Did he really think I wouldn't agree? she wondered with a shake of her head. He handed her a pen. She took it and reached over to deliver a peck to his startled lips.
Sheldon frowned. "Amy, restrain yourself. We are not finished conducting our business. There will be time for that later, during coitus."
She signed and initialed wherever he pointed on both her copy as well as his. After she was done and he was notarizing the documents, she arched an eyebrow and asked, "You planned coitus for tonight?"
He slapped his forehead and groaned. "I never showed you the itinerary, did I? My apologies. I suppose I didn't think of it as I was 'shooting from the hip'." He looked up at her, seeming disappointed. "As I did not give you the required notice, we do not have to engage in that tonight. We can just sleep."
"Oh, we will be engaging," she said, eyeing him intensely. "Name the time, and I'm ready."
Sheldon's breathing hitched. He looked away, wiping sweat from his brow. "You can't look at me like that right now. I'm not finished with my duties yet."
"That's fine," Amy said, not breaking eye contact. "The second you get finished, though, your ass is mine."
He gulped. Not bothering to chide her for her use of such crass language, Sheldon dove back into his bag and drew out a flat, rectangular box covered in blue crushed velvet. "Social convention dictates that a pair bond must show their romantic commitment in three ways. The first is to verbally express their feelings to each other, which we have done. The second is to log their commitment in some legal form, which we have also done. The final is through the use of a token gift." He handed her the box.
Amy opened the box and stared down. Inside was the loveliest necklace she'd ever seen. "Did Raj help you with this?" she said.
He shook his head. "I couldn't have him knowing our little secret," he said. "Do you like it?"
Propping the box on her knees, she pulled out a thin gold chain. Holding it up, the pendant in the middle of the necklace—a small, golden turtle—swung like a pendulum in front of her face.
She, of course, knew what it meant. It was their term of endearment for each other. Truly, it was one of the most stunning things she'd ever seen. That Sheldon had thought of it all on his own made it all the more so. "Why a turtle and not a turtledove?" she asked.
"Everyone knows a turtledove signifies eternal love. If it is a turtle, however, no one but you and I will ever know its true significance." He grinned and gave her a playful wink that did crazy things to her heart. "It's one of my more clever ideas."
"I love it. It's magnificent." She continued staring at it, reaching out to take the pendant between her fingers. There were tiny, golden limbs coming from the glittery shell as though the reptile were propelling himself through invisible water. Amy adored its simple, majestic beauty.
"It's not very expensive," Sheldon stated. "The pendant isn't even pure gold. It's gold-plated. But I will buy you one with a diamond in it for our thirtieth wedding anniversary."
Then, it hit Amy—what he was doing by giving this to her. It was just like Meemaw's fake pearl necklace. Love, she remembered Sheldon saying, was an immortal fire that consumes you, takes you over body and soul until you don't know where you end and the other person begins, makes you want to be more than you can ever dream to be, and burns within you until you'd walk through the blazes of hell to keep the one you love from harm. Pop-pop had said he felt that way about Meemaw and had given her the necklace to show her. Now, by giving her this necklace, Sheldon was expressing himself in the same manner.
A tear fell down her cheek as she looked at him. "You really love me," she said.
"Yes."
His answer was steady, resolute, and undeniable. And, even though Amy had already known his feelings and he had already told her he loved her, there was something about this firm "Yes" that made his feelings all the more palpable to her. Without a word, she slipped the chain over her head, her hand cupping the pendant like a lifeline. This is Sheldon's love for me, she thought. Something I can carry with me wherever I go. She wiped away her tears. He's crazy if he thinks I'll ever want a diamond one to replace this.
She opened her mouth to tell him so when the rest of what he'd actually said came drifting through her brain. "Wait," she exclaimed. "What? 'Our thirtieth wedding anniversary'?"
"Yes," he said, completely calm and at ease as though he hadn't just thrown her world upside down.
"Sheldon, did you just propose to me?"