It was dark when Amy awoke. The curtains were closed, but blew in the soft breeze that cooled her face. Rolling over, she smelled the baby powder scent of her dear Sheldon; and she blindly reached for him, shaking off the last of her inebriation when all she clasped was a fistful of blanket. Head pounding, she untangled herself from the covers and stood. Making her way to the thin triangle of light framing her door, she fumbled for the light switch. The sudden, complete brightness was a violation to her closed lids, and she slowly forced herself to gradually open her eyes and, finally, drop her hands.

When her eyes were accustomed enough she put her hand on the door knob - and stopped.

She was wearing a beautiful ring. A wedding ring. On her ring finger.

What had happened last night?

She stood there, surveying the ring, watching the beautiful colors flash through the faceted diamond. Then she opened the door and walked through the lit hallway into the dark living room. She paused, waiting to hear a soft snore, but the only breaths she heard were her own. She walked to the couch and ran her hands along the empty cushions.

After flooding the living room and kitchen with light, she looked at the clock. 3:27 AM. But who cared what time it was? She was wearing an engagement ring.

She poured herself some coffee and sat at the table, trying to recall the events of yesterday and last night. Sheldon had visited...Were they engaged? He had gone home after having at least a few sips of beer. Well, she knew he hadn't driven, anyway.

Suddenly her memory hit her with a rush that left her breathless.

They'd had sex.

Sheldon on his knee, a ring in his hand...

Oh, God. How badly had the beer affected his memory? Would he remember?

She had to talk to him.

-0-0-0-0-

Sheldon was laying on the couch, eyes open, his feet nearest to the door. He stared at the ceiling, trying to calm himself.

He had participated in unprotected sex.

He had tried for a baby - on purpose. What if she had a baby? He'd become a father. A father. He'd be one of the guys pushing a stroller. Dear Lord, what if she had twins, too? What if he had to babysit his twins and Bernadette's twins at the same time? Oh dear God, what if she had triplets? Or more?

He needed air. Trying not to hyperventilate, he sat up and wrapped the blanket around himself, then stood and headed toward the balcony. As he slid the door aside his phone began to ring, and he quickly let himself out so he wouldn't disturb his roommate or guests.

"Hello? ...Hi, Amy." He felt his cheeks warm. But why? She couldn't see him. "No, I've been up since...since 6AM." And just what had he been thinking? He couldn't exactly abandon the kid, or kids. Then he'd be no better than Howard's father...

"Sheldon? Sheldon, are you there?"

"Huh? Oh, yes. Yes, I am. Sorry. What did you say? ...I remember." He leaned against the balustrade. "Yes, I remember all of that! I wasn't that drunk. ...Yes, I know. I helped you walk. ...It's okay. ...That would be fine. See you then."

He hung up.

There were few times in his life he had regrets, but this was one of them. No, he didn't want to lose Amy. Yes, he was willing to marry her. But, fatherhood?

Was any man ever ready? Surely it couldn't be exclusive to him.

So, she would come over tomorrow. Well, in a few hours. They would talk. They would talk for as long as it took to say everything that had to be said.

Then what?

What if the kid took after him, and was a complete nerd? He'd have to step up and rescue the kid from bullies - when he himself was still a victim. What if it was a girl? He'd be expected to try and stop her from having coitus at too young an age, and he rarely understood the intentions of others. And no matter the gender, he'd have to protect the kid. How was he supposed to do that when it was often Penny who protected him?

He wanted to bite his nails. But that was unhygienic.

Why, why, why couldn't he lose his memory again? Then it wouldn't be his fault. Well, it would be, if he intentionally tried to traumatize his own brain, but his work was too precious. His field would suffer without him.

He was being foolish. He was a grown man who had proclaimed his love to his girlfriend. They had gotten engaged. Drunk or not, he had vowed to be there for her.

He had to keep his promise.

Bowing his head, he made his decision. Letting go of the rail he let himself inside.

He would talk to Amy. And, whenever he could, he would talk to Beverly Hofstadter. He had a feeling he would need her wisdom, if not his own.