Prompt: Sheldon and Amy being cute after they win the Nobel... with sprinkles of angst.
When Sheldon was quiet, it was because he was thinking about something or he was upset and needed to process. Often it was both, and Amy could tell that it was. His leg was bouncing furiously against her own. His eyes were firmly fixed on the table in front of him. His eyebrows were drawn into a tight knot, deep creases running in his forehead. His upper teeth were alternating between biting the left and right side of his lower lip. While their friends conversed around them, Amy kept her eyes focused on her husband.
He'd been quiet since the ceremony ended and though the first course of their meal. Now, as they waited on the main dish, Amy felt it necessary to cut through whatever thoughts plagued Sheldon's mind.
She gently rested her hand on his thumping knee, her touch causing the movement to cease immediately. "Hey, you doing ok?" She asked, low enough for him to hear her, but not loud enough to disrupt the conversation at their table.
Their eyes met in a wordless gaze. His eyes told her, 'no, nothing is ok.' But his words said, "Yes, everything is fine." He gave her a tight-lipped smile and rested his hand over hers, his fingers intertwining with her own.
Before Amy could say something, the waiter brought the main course and lulled the conversation between their friends. While they ate, Amy joined in on whatever topic their friends were discussing, but kept a close eye on Sheldon. Sheldon, who only responded when spoken to.
On some level, Amy was annoyed with him; however, she couldn't stop thinking about the day and what it meant to him. He had been waiting for that day his entire life when he would finally have that gold medal hanging from his neck. A sign that he changed the world. However, his whole life, he thought that the recognition would only belong to him. That he would need, nor have to acknowledge that anyone else helped him along the way. So, when he started pushing away the people who stood by him, he was shocked when they willingly let themselves be pushed. He thought it belonged to him and him only. But no, it belonged to their friends as well. Amy recognized that long before Sheldon did. Sheldon thought it was their honor towatch him receive theNobel. That was far from the truth. In reality, it should have been Sheldon who was honored to have them there. And they were tired of him not being able to see it.
And perhaps Amy had been too harsh with her words. Maybe she could have said it gentler while remaining firm. However, her frustration with him had reached its boiling point, and, honey, the pot was full. Unfortunately, her approach was the only way to make him understand how much he had hurt their friends. Were her hurtful? Yes. But were they untrue? No. Sheldon's naivety about social cues and other people's feelings had improved much over the years. However, he was still ungraceful, and for the most part, had a difficult time understanding others, including her. People tolerated him because they knew that he didn't know any better. As much as she hated to admit it, she was guilty of it at times too. No matter how imperfect he was, there were things he did that pissed her off to no extent. But she loved him enough to tolerate those actions.
When she spoke those words to him, she had not intended for them to hurt him. That would be like returning an eye for an eye, something Amy never really believed in. Her intent with yelling at him was to help him see that he did play somepart in why their friends were abandoning them. And while her outburst seemed to accomplish that, it also struck a nerve in Sheldon that was causing him immense discomfort. For which part, she did not know.
She needed to talk to him; figure out which part exactly he was upset about.
As the table finished up the main course, she glanced around to make sure nobody was looking. Confident that no one was paying them any mind, she reached for his hand and pulled him with her away from the table. With him following her in tow, she briskly navigated the twists and turns of the banquet in City Hall. The couple's abrupt exit caught the attention of a few other guests, but as a whole, their departure was mostly ignored.
She pulled him into a more secluded area of the building. Past the bathrooms down the hall next to a utility closet. She stopped next to the door and looked around to make sure nobody had followed them.
"Are you ok?" She asked once confirmed their solitude. "You've been quiet all evening."
Amy watched the gears turn in her husband's brain. He wouldn't make eye contact with her, something he only did when something was troubling him. He focused keenly on something behind her, just past her head. His eyes shifted in their sockets, panicking, looking for an answer he didn't honestly know the answer to. He went with a safe response and mumbled, "I don't know."
She sighed at his response. Neither confirming nor denying. "Was it something that Leonard said? That I said?" She pried, mentally slapping herself for the stupidity of her questioning.
He tightly shook his head, but she didn't believe him. She could see the way his hand trembled as his fingers traced the Nobel hanging from his neck.
Right as she was about to pry once more, he interrupted her with a question that nearly shattered her heart. "Do you only tolerate me?"
There were only a couple feet between them, but Amy rushed to close the gap. "No, sweetheart, no!" she assured him, taking his face in her hands. "There are things you do that annoy me, sure, but I love you enough to look past those things."
"But there are things that you only tolerate?"
She nodded. "Of course, with any person, you love, there are things you simply must tolerate, but you do it because you love them." Amy reached down and took his hands in hers, running her thumb over his knuckles.
"Our friends?" He questioned, keeping his head low. "Do you think they only ever tolerate me? Am I that unbearable?"
"No!" She exclaimed softly, tightening her grip on his hands. "Why do you think they stayed, Sheldon? Sure you were an ass earlier," she gave him a soft smile to let him know she was only joking. "But they stayed because they love you."
Sheldon still didn't look convinced. She hated this look on him. No matter how arrogant he could be at times, he had insecurities that ran deep; things that could be brought up in just a few words. He had never let any of their friends see his diffidence, only her, and she'd heard enough about what he's thinking to know how to fix the situation.
"I don't like the way you tap your fingers together when you're irritated," she blurted out.
Sheldon's face contorted in confusion. "Amy, what?"
"Or the way you don't always take my interests seriously. I hate that." She paused. "But I love the way you always kiss my forehead in the morning. I love that you always let me use the bathroom first when we wake up, even though I know you rather would."
"Amy, what are you doing?"
"I like that you'll give me a foot massage if I've had a long day. I like that sometimes you want to be the little spoon. I like that you insist on holding my hand after we make love." After every compliment, Amy took a step closer to him, sliding her hands up his shoulders. "Sheldon, sweetheart, the list of tiny things you do for me is astronomical. All those little things blot out the smaller annoyances. Do you understand?"
Sheldon nodded.
"Good," she nearly whispered, running her hands down his chest, smoothing out the wrinkles in his coat. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you earlier…" she apologized, her voice trailing off.
Sheldon took a step back from her. "I'm sorry too. If I hadn't been acting like a child in the first place, you wouldn't have had to yell at me."
Amy gave him a gentle smile, mirroring the one she gave him when they got married. "I love you."
"I love you, too, but I think if we don't go back out soon, our friends will send out a search party," Sheldon joked, moving out of their small nook; however, he could see a glint spark in his wife's eyes. Vixen.
She moved her fingers to trace the golden medal, still hanging from his neck. "Let them search," she said in a low voice, grabbing the cords of the Nobel and pulling him to her. Her lips immediately sought his, and they attached as if the other was oxygen. Amy's hands found the hair at the base of his neck and tangled her fingers into it. She felt his lips vibrate with the soft moan he let out.
Together their mouths danced in fiery pleasure, and much to Amy's surprise, Sheldon was going along with it. Less than fifty feet away was a dining hall that occupied the King of Sweden, plus his family, and some of the most respected people in the world. All were wearing the same gold medal with a purple cord that she tightly held onto while she let her husband drown her with kisses.
Suddenly, Sheldon backed her further into their tiny niche and pinned her against the door of the utility closet. It wasn't forceful, but it was rough enough for Amy to tear away from the kiss immediately. "Wait," she said in a breathy voice. Sheldon looked wordily down at her, also trying to catch his breath.
"I'm ok," she assured him. "You just caught me off guard, that's all." She gripped at her stomach to try and calm it down along with her animated breathing.
After a few moments, she was able to steady her breathing. However, her hand remained clutched to her stomach, and for a brief moment, she hoped Sheldon couldn't see the panic behind her eyes.
But he did.
"You ok now?" He asked softly, his pale blue eyes searching for an answer.
"Of course," she replied.
The two stayed quiet for a moment, not quite sure what to say to each other. "Umm, maybe we should…" Amy stammered. "Maybe we should head back."
What Sheldon said next shocked her. "To our hotel room, yeah." Amy's eyes widened at him almost comically to which he chuckled. Slowly he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready for a one on one celebration. What about you, my dear?"
All she could do was shudder against his breath.
"I'll take that as a yes?" He asked as he pulled away and slowly began to back out of their little nook.
"Oh, most defiantly," she muttered, gleefully following him as they stealthily moved back into the dining hall.
Thankfully, the main entrance of the building was not far from where the restrooms were located. All they needed to do was exit the hall leading to the bathrooms and make a right, which would land them almost immediately in the coatroom. However, there were at least twenty feet between the two open doorways, and there were many tables lined up in the short distance. Amy hoped that if they were quick and quiet enough that nobody would pay mind to their early departure.
As the two of them walked carefully along the wall, side by side, they managed to not catch anybody's attention.
"Dr. Cooper, Dr. Fowler!" Someone exclaimed in a heavy Russian accent right as they made it to the front of the main lobby.
Amy turned her head to see another laureate coming at them with open arms. She immediately recognized him. Dr. Sokolov. A Russian scientist who won his Nobel in chemistry. Sheldon had told her about him, and surprisingly, he was one of the few people who Sheldon didn't talk down.
Amy wasn't intimidated as the older scientist shuffled toward them. He was at least twice Sheldon's age, but that didn't stop the glee from spreading across his face as he came to a stop in front of them.
"Dr. Fowler, Dr. Cooper, it is so nice to meet you!" Dr. Sokolov rejoiced as he enveloped her in a hug. When he moved to shake Sheldon's hand, her husband accepted gracefully. However, after the Russian doctor turned back to her, she could see him stealthily grab the bottle of Purel hidden in his inner coat pocket.
"After I read your work on Super Asymmetry, I just knew you two would win it," he chuckled, looking like a five-year-old in a candy shop. "I would love to discuss your discovery, if you have time, of course."
Just as Amy was about to interject, Sheldon spoke up for her. "I'm sorry, Dr. Sokolov, but we're just heading out." The older man's shoulder sunk defeatedly. "But, we would love to discuss it with you tomorrow at the Palace."
"It's a date, Dr. Cooper," Dr, Sokolov joked making Sheldon, surprisingly, chuckle as well. "You two have a great night."
And with that the Dr. departed from them, missing Sheldon's mumbled reply. "Oh, we're going to have a fantastic night."
They returned to their hotel room fully adorned with heavy winter coats and their Nobles. As exciting as the evening was for them, they couldn't be happier to be back in their suite.
Sheldon helped his wife out of her coat before he shrugged off his own. He neatly folded the articles of clothing over the couch back; careful not to wrinkle them.
Amy gulped as he turned back to her, his eyes full of longing, full of love. It was a look she had seen on him before. The night they first slept together. Their engagement. Their wedding day. His eyes, on every occasion, held such power over her, they never failed to make her weak in the knees.
His hand cupped her cheek when he came closer to her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention immediately, something that did not go unnoticed by him. As he moved his hand down, his fingers gently caressed the tender skin of her neck. His thumb pressed gently against the hollow between her neck and clavicle, a place Sheldon knew would make her body shudder. It did, but he did not back down. He tickled the feathered sleeves of her dress before traveling down her arm. His light, barely there, touches were so affectionate, so pure, that Amy had to close her eyes from the emotion behind it.
He finally landed on the small of her back and pulled her body flush with his. Their medals clinking together at the contact. Using his free hand, he intertwined the fingers of his left with her right. It was so intimate, Amy almost forgot that they were in the same position they danced their first song together.
Sheldon knew this as well; he'd planned it that way. Before either could say a word, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and pressed play on the song that he queued up in the limo. Haphazardly dropping his phone onto the couch, he took her hand once more.
They hadn't stayed long enough to enjoy slow dancing at the banquet, something Sheldon knew that Amy wanted to do with him. So, it warmed her heart when Sheldon began to sway with the music. Even though she would have enjoyed the banquet dance, there was something about this that made it all the more personal. Sophisticated. Intimate.
The way that Sheldon moved so perfectly with the tempo, gracefully guiding her through the steps, taking the lead. How he let her prop her head under his chin and how he buried his nose in her hair.
They worked together like a well-oiled machine, not once slipping up or stepping on each other's toes, a contrast to how it had been at their wedding. Amy listened to her husband's heartbeat against his chest, laughing internally as it seemed to sync with the beat of the music. Sheldon took in his wife's aroma, bathing in the cherry scent of her shampoo.
They stayed like in one position for the entirety of the song. Too wrapped up in each other to break the embrace. And even as the song drew to its conclusion, they continued to rock in their embrace, not daring to break the connection they had formed together.
Sheldon did end up breaking the silence with and "I love you" mumbled softly into her hair.
Reluctantly, Amy pulled her head away from his chest, immediately missing its warmth as she did so. Yet, the tenderness she saw in his eyes quickly replaced the lack of literal body heat. "I love you more," she teased, flashing him a small smile.
Sheldon shook his head no, but his mirrored smile gave it away. "That's not possible," he said, softly, as he leaned down to kiss her.
Unlike their kiss from earlier in their corner, this one was gentle and soft. Their lips moved together as though they'd done so their whole life. He brought a hand to gently cradle her face; a loving gesture that made her give a soft mewl in appreciation. And, oh, how he loved the small noises from her. His body reacted immediately. Trying to pull her even closer to him; squeezing her, making breathing a task.
She hated doing it, but she had to pull away, he was holding her too tight.
"Sorry," she apologized almost immediately. "I couldn't breathe."
He nodded his head. "I understand," he said, but then paused. "Would you like to move this elsewhere?" He asked, not crudely, but rather in the quiet way he always asked for consent.
She wanted to, a lot, but there was something she needed to do first. She wanted to do it before the ceremony, however, after the whole debacle, she decided to wait, for a moment tender as the one before her.
"Hold on," she said, pushing away from him. Moving toward a bag that she had hidden in the corner of the room. She left him rooted in the same place, confused as she began to rummage through the bag's contents before finding what she was looking for.
"There's something I wanted to give you first," she explained as she handed him a neatly wrapped box.
The simple gold and black wrapping paper elegantly hugged the curves of whatever it contained that Sheldon was almost apprehensive about opening it. When he looked up to meet Amy's gaze, she nodded, encouraging him.
As the paper was peeled away, he felt a velvet material beneath his fingers. It appeared to be a jewelry box.
"What is this?" Sheldon asked, tugging at the latch to the box.
It was a rhetorical question, Amy knew that. And it was worth a wordless answer when Sheldon opened it to peer at its contents.
A gold-encrusted pocket watch, another one to add to his collection. She had the engraving on the outside plate specially designed for something that she knew would tailor perfectly to Sheldon. The structure of an Atom. Crafted perfectly and precisely, 100% scientifically accurate, she made sure of it. However, the real surprise was the engraving on the inside, something he hadn't gotten to yet.
"Amy, it's beautiful," he gushed, his fingers running over the Atom.
"I know, open it."
When he did, a tiny folded up piece of paper fell out. However, when he moved to read it, she stopped him. "Read the engraving first."
"They will be the perfect arrangement of atoms"
He had already begun unfolding the small piece of paper as he read the quote, and for the briefest moment, he was confused as to what Amy meant by the engraving. Until he glanced down at the tiny 4x3, black and white sonogram in his hand.
He drew a breath in through his nose. "You're… you're pregnant?" He asked shakily, his voice catching in his throat.
She nodded, but he remained silent, staring down at the watch and sonogram in his hand. He could feel his emotions at the surface, ready to break through the wall that Sheldon had kept up most of the evening. They'd made a baby. Amy was going to have his child. Their child.
His finger traced the outline of the bean-shaped object. The object he knew was a little bundle of cells that contained their combined DNA. That would grow into a human being with its own traits, abilities, and emotions. A human that only came to existence because of the bond, the love, he shared with his wife.
"You're pregnant," he said again, making a statement rather than a question.
"Yes," she beamed, moving forward to wrap her arms around his waist. He still held the sonogram in his hand, but he couldn't tear his eyes away from the first picture taken of his child. Their child.
It was several moments before he uttered: "Thank you."
She looked up at him, confused. "For what? You played a part in this too, you know," Amy said, giving him a playful smirk.
He pulled away from her, his free hand coming to rest on her hip. "No, not for the baby." He thought for a moment. "Well, a little the baby, but rather for everything. For telling me what I needed to hear, for sticking by me even though I can be irritating, for loving me enough to tolerate the bad stuff."
Call it pregnancy hormones or the raging emotions behind what could be construed as one of the greatest days of their lives, Amy couldn't stop the tears that welled up in her eyes. She knew that he meant every word of his confession, and she also knew that there was much more behind it. However, she wasn't going to push her husband for more, she knew he had a rough day. All she wanted to do was hold Sheldon close and relish in their victory.
Cupping her hands on his cheeks, she brought his head down for a chaste, but tender, kiss to his lips. "I don't want to do anything more tonight, Sheldon, all I want is for you to hold me."
"That sounds wonderful," he said, squeezing her hipbone. "Why don't you and our little progeny go get ready for bed. I'll be in there in a few minutes."
Their bedtime routine at home usually gave Sheldon the first right to the bathroom, so, she was grateful that he let his usual habit go for the day. She smiled up and him and darted to the bathroom before he could change his mind.
The bathroom in their suite was considerably larger than the one back home. It was large enough for the shower and bath to be separate from each other, with the shower itself almost its own room. Instead of one sink, there were two, one on either side when one walked in the door. The toilet granted its own stall with a door and everything.
After their week in Sweden, it was going to be difficult to readjust to their tiny apartment once again.
As Amy moved to the hooks where she left her garment bag from earlier, she tried and failed to unzip the back of her dress. Admittedly, she did have Sheldon zip it up earlier, however, after many years of wearing zippered skirts, one would think she could manage a dress.
"Sheldon!" She beckoned, still trying to unzip it herself.
"Yeah?"
"Can you come here?"
He burst through the door less than ten seconds later. "What's wrong?" He asked, trying desperately to act as though he was not panicked.
"Nothing, I just need you to unzip my dress for me," she explained, dropping her arms helplessly at her side.
He deflated with relief. "Oh, ok," he said, his arms already outstretched as he moved towards her. She held her hands against her chest to keep the dress from falling off as he freed her from the garment. The zipper moved fast a gracefully down her back, she expected nothing less from a down that cost them nearly as much as it did.
"There you go," he whispered as he trailed the zipper to the end of its line.
She turned back towards him, awkwardly. "Thank you."
As he turned to leave, she called his name once more. "There's plenty of room in here for both of us, just stay and get ready for bed with me," she requested, slipping out of her dress and into the hotel supplied robe.
He complied with her wish and begun to change out of his tuxedo. With his outfit having many more components than hers, by the time he had also changed into a robe, she was nearly done wiping the last of her makeup away. As the maneuver together through their usual, but at the same time unusual, bedtime routine, not a word is spoken between them. Every so often, one will catch the other smiling at them through the mirror on opposite sides of the room. And every time the one who gets caught will blush and turn away while the recipient of their gaze smiles warmly at the affection.
It takes a mere ten minutes before they are both dressed in their pajamas and pulling back the covers to the massive king-sized bed. As though it was habitual, both of them immediately migrated to the middle of the sheets, basking in each other's warmth.
"Well," she said, questioningly once they got situated. "You want to be the little spoon?"
He chuckled and turned on his side, facing her. "I think I'd like to take on the role of big spoon tonight."
They both moved to kiss each other, as they did every night before she turned away from him. She leaned back against him as his torso came in contact with her back. Her emotions got the better of her when his hand immediately came to rest over her stomach, tracing the very spot he knew their baby was growing.
"I can't believe there's a baby in there," he mused with wonder and amazement, tracing the number 143 over and over again.
"I know," she said. "I love them too."
No other words were spoken that night, they didn't need any. Their actions spoke louder than their words. Every so often, Sheldon would place the softest of kisses on her shoulder before he nuzzled her hair. She kept her hand firmly grasped over his, the one resting on her stomach.
When sleep finally came, he was too tired and too relaxed to fight it. The patterns traced on her stomach came to a slow stop. His head fell back against his own pillow, and his breathing steadied into his slumber. However, his hand remained stationary over their baby, a gesture she appreciated even more as she realized he had succumbed to the peacefulness of sleep.
She stayed awake for a few more moments, tracing the surface of his wedding band, the sharp ridges of his knuckles, and the blood vessels in the back of his hand. Every once in a while, he would twitch in his sleep and involuntarily grasp her hand. After the third time, she firmly took hold of his hand, letting her heavy lids finally slide close as well. But before she too fell into unconsciousness, she traced what Sheldon had told the baby earlier.
143… I love you.