Author's Note:

Hey! We're back with a brand new rating!

First allow me to apologize for the delay. I did not intend to take this long to update. I unexpectedly got an advanced reader copy of Jessica Radloff's Big Bang Theory book (which is out now), so writing was paused while I read that. It's really good, you guys. Five stars!

Anyway, thank you all very much for your patience. I know that last cliffhanger was kind of mean. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it. Let me know.

Thank you to my beta reader Stark and, as always, thank you to all you dear readers for your support!

Chapter Ten

It wasn't just about coitus.

It was about how, despite recent improvements, Amy was still largely stuck. She had no car, she couldn't fully return to work with her leg still healing, and none of her memories had returned. Sometimes while Sheldon was out and she was alone in the apartment, she felt like she was being crushed under the weight of everything she lost. A Nobel Prize win, a wedding. Births and deaths. A job change and a move and birthdays and holidays and vacations and a new wardrobe and projects and publications and books on her shelf that she couldn't remember buying let alone reading and and and . . .

And she couldn't do anything about most of those things. The odds of winning another Nobel Prize were so slim. It would be incredibly impractical to have another wedding. She couldn't raise the dead. She couldn't make time flow in reverse.

But she could choose to lose her virginity again. She could take this one experience back.

It wasn't just about coitus. It was also about regaining control.

But with Sheldon on top of her, his arousal pressing into her, she wasn't really thinking about control.

There was no downside as far as she could tell. They were married. He had a schedule to keep. It would be one less thing for her to obsess over while she continued to recover. It wasn't like she'd never propositioned him before now, even she could remember that. A night of torrid lovemaking. It wasn't such a crazy request anymore. And how many people got the unique pleasure of losing their innocence again? The idea of oddly titillating. Amy was sure this time around she wouldn't forget.

"But your memory-"

"Might not ever come back," she finished for him. "I don't want to wait for it. I just want you. Right now. In this moment. I want you."

Sheldon remained tense, hovering above her, and she looked up into his eyes. Her perfect match, her first friend, her time traveler from the future. The man who cried over her hospital bed, who broke his own rules for her comfort, who held her protectively while she slept. Oh, she did want him. When she felt him relax as he leaned down and touched his lips to hers again, she could have sobbed in relief.

He set a slow pace, but she was fine with that. They kissed languidly for a while, until she worked her hands under his pajama top and dragged her fingertips up and down his back, delighting in all his smooth skin. After a moment he pulled away and removed his top completely, then toyed with the hem of her nightgown.

"Okay?" he asked.

She nodded and sat up so he could remove that too. She blushed as his dark eyes took her in, but he moved over her again before she could get too self-conscious. The sensation of being chest-to-chest with him was almost overwhelming.

If time held any meaning to her before this, it was lost now. Her misplaced past and her stolen future fell away along with the remainder of their clothes. It was just her and Sheldon, suspended in amber together. She never wanted it to end. His hands were everywhere, in her hair, on her breasts, between her thighs. Oh, he was good, but she supposed that only made sense. He was already well-acquainted with her body.

He stilled above her, resting his forehead against hers, his breath heavy and slightly out of sync with her own. She went still as well, but stayed clinging to him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she answered almost before he could finish the question.

He moved off of her and she groaned in protest before she realized he was just moving over to his nightstand to retrieve protection. In his haste to return to her, he didn't even bother to close the drawer. Her heart beat erratically as she watched him roll on the condom and resume the position.

"Amy . . . I, um . . . I . . ."

"I know," she told him. Because she did.

When he didn't make any further moves, she wrapped her legs around his hips and gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. Her eyes closed as their tongues slid together once again. She could feel his erection between her legs, teasing her wet folds, and she moaned into his mouth. This was it.

Her eyes popped open when he pushed forward, and their kiss was broken as she gasped at the feeling. Sheldon paused, watching her face, but she arched against him and pushed on his lower back, encouraging him to continue. He buried his head into her neck as he sunk in deeper, and she released a shuddery breath. Her own head was thrown back, eyes to the ceiling, thoughts racing as she tried to process the sensation of being completely filled by him. It was new. It was intimate. It was strange. It was amazing. There was something there. Something building between them, inside her. Something . . .

There was a flash of gold off to one side of the bed, at the edge of her vision.

The Nobel Prize medals. They were both there in his nightstand drawer, set at just the right angle to catch a sliver of light coming from a small opening in the curtains. They shined the same way that night in Sweden, when she and Sheldon were making love in their hotel suite after the ceremony, dressed only in their medals and the moonlight.

The same medal he was wearing that day. The same medal she placed around her neck at his insistence before leaving for her interview. Before the accident.

Sheldon moved above her, slowly and rhythmically, and she watched him in wonder. Every push, every new wave of pleasure, brought something back. Movie dates, dinner dates, anniversaries, birthday parties, their prom do-over, the fort he mentioned before, moving in together, leaving for New Jersey just to find him at her door days later on one knee, the time they almost got married at city hall, the time they actually did get married, that phone call in the middle of the night. The last eight years. Her whole life with him.

"Oh, Sheldon," she spoke his name with reverence and tightened her hold, her nails digging into his back. She started meeting his thrusts, surrendering completely to a moment that was both brand new and entirely familiar. He brought her back, he made her whole, he took her higher. The flashbacks in her head turned to fireworks as they came together, and she didn't understand how she could have ever forgotten this feeling.

"I enjoyed that more than I thought I would," she said as she came down, her voice soft and shaky. Sheldon had moved off of her to dispose of the condom, but quickly returned to her side when he heard her.

"Do you remember?" he asked. She reached out to stroke his cheek

"It was your birthday gift to me. You gave up up the new Star Wars movie for it."

She watched as his eyes started to water and he swallowed back a lump in his throat.

"Um, is-is that all, or . . . ?"

"The next year we didn't do it until late because we kept getting interrupted by Halley's birth. And then we broke tradition and did it once before I left on my research fellowship. And then on my next birthday we almost didn't get to do it because your frontier dinner gave us food poisoning. Then-"

Sheldon cut her off with an urgent kiss, which she gladly reciprocated. She didn't realize she was crying now too until he pulled away to wipe her tears.

"What else?" he asked.

"You asked me to be your girlfriend while I was on a date with Stuart. We host an internet show called Fun With Flags. When you first told me you loved me, I had a panic attack. We were late to our own wedding."

"Oh, Amy, I've missed you."

Sheldon rolled them over, leaving her on top this time. She looked down at him looking up at her with such adoration, the only way she could respond was with another heated kiss.

"I love you, Sheldon," she said against his mouth, not wanting to part from him but needing to tell him.

"I love you too."

They spent the entire night intertwined, getting reacquainted.

The only memories the previous night did not restore were the car accident itself and the interview that led up to it. Fortunately, the magazine article was there to fill in the gaps. Amy rolled her eyes when she saw the title, Saved by the Nobel.

"It's a shame the accident turned it into a human interest story," Sheldon commented when he saw her reading it. "So much hard science removed to make room for crash scene details."

"I think we were doomed to human interest stories when we came up with the theory at our wedding."

"Yes, but you told me I'm not allowed to complain about that anymore."

Amy smiled at her husband, then continued reading. Sheldon did have a point, a lot of the actual interview questions were cut in favor of describing what happened after she left. Apparently, when rescuers arrived to pull her from the wreckage, it appeared that her Nobel Prize prevented her from being impaled by some of the twisted metal of the car frame. An EMT was quoted saying she could have bled out if the medal wasn't there to block it.

"It's malarky, of course," Sheldon said. "The medal is only six-point-six centimeters in diameter and approximately three millimeters thick. If you were going to be impaled, it hardly could have stopped it. You had other lacerations."

Normally Amy was inclined to agree, but looking at the medals, now both back in their display case, one of them sporting a deep scratch, maybe she wanted to believe it. At the very least, it made a good story. She couldn't really blame the reporter.

"Can I say something horribly mushy without you threatening to drop me off at the nearest hippy commune?" she asked. Sheldon sat down on the couch beside her.

"I suppose."

"I spent a lot of time these past few days upset that I missed out on all the best moments of my life. Getting married, winning a Nobel . . ." she trailed off, considering each event. "But I've realized, those aren't really the best moments."

"Amy . . ."

"Oh they're important, don't get me wrong." She locked eyes with him, willing him to let her finish without interruption. "I'm glad they happened and I'm glad I finally remember them. But this," she gestured between them, "you and me, and our friends, the life we've built together through the small, day-to-day stuff, those are the best moments. And I get to keep having those."

"You're lucky you're so cute," Sheldon replied. She knew he was trying to brush aside her words as emotional drivel, but his voice was thick with emotions of his own.

"You're right," she said, knowing how much he loved to hear that. "I am lucky."

End Note:

We're not quite done yet. Epilogue to follow. :)