Author's note: You accomplished your mission. Thank you for the lovely reviews. I hope this chapter conveys my thanks properly. :)

Sheldon

Sheldon lay in his bed, trying to go to sleep, but instead finding himself reflecting on recent events. He groaned. It had been nearly a month since Amy had moved in and his entire life felt topsy turvy. He hated it…but he didn't hate it. It was all very confusing.

He thought about his life before Amy. Things had made sense. Life had been orderly. He had consistently been in control. He had not had to answer to anyone, save occasionally his mother. No one had questioned his reign as head of the group. All activities and meals had been planned to fit his needs. Yes, life had certainly been simple and efficient.

Even the introduction of Penny into his life hadn't changed things as much as the introduction of Amy. Yes, Penny had often challenged him, but it was rare that she succeeded in getting him to capitulate. And then there was the fact that Penny would now do things for him that Leonard either refused to do or was ill equipped to do, such as singing him Soft Kitty when he was sick or taking him shopping for new shoes.

Yes, if he could pinpoint the time in his life when he had started to lose his firm grip on control, it had been the first afternoon he had shared a beverage with Amy; he an herbal tea with honey and she a tepid water. They had bonded over their mutual distain for physical contact and an aversion to soiled hosiery.

It had been the first time he had actively sought out a friendship. He and Amy had texted and emailed each other with such regularity during those first few months that it hadn't taken her long to become a firmly fixed entity within his social paradigm. Had he been looking for signs of danger to his carefully structured social paradigm, that would have been his first clue.

He had been happy with the relationship as it was. He could engage in an intelligent conversation with a like minded individual without any need for physical contact. It had been everything he dreamed of in an ideal relationship…what had happened?

Penny. He huffed, annoyed. It was all her fault…perhaps he had underestimated the effect Penny had had on his life after all. Without Penny's interference he and Amy might never have gone on their first date and his life would have remained blissfully the same. But no. Penny had insisted Sheldon take Amy on a date, all because they had discussed having a child together, regardless of the fact that said progeny would have been created in a sanitary lab without the necessity of physical contact. But go on a date they had. They had had a brilliant time naturally, bonding over a discussion regarding Penny's numerous sexual encounters. (Regardless of what she thinks, the math doesn't lie.) After that date, he found himself actually wanting to spend more time with Amy. That would have been his second clue.

Excepting those few brief days when he and Amy had had an argument over the validity of Neurobiology and he had rediscovered a fondness for cats, they had gotten along swimmingly. They had had endlessly intelligent conversations on a variety of subjects and had even created a game that, no matter how frequently the rules were explained, only the two of them truly understood.

And then things had changed. Amy had changed. Penny's influence (hmm…he really needed to rethink Penny's influence on his life) had opened Amy up to a world she had previously shunned along with him. She became a drinker of alcohol, a watcher of "chick flicks", and, most shockingly, a woman with a libido. She had even referred to him as a "sexy toddler" and had kissed him while under the influence of alcohol. That would have been clue number three.

But they had agreed the next morning to restore their relationship to a point they both agreed it had worked…i.e. one in which Amy had not called him a sexy toddler and kissed him. Sheldon had assumed that things would return to normal.

Except they hadn't. Despite his determination to ignore and forget said kiss, his thoughts regarding Amy had shifted. He had no longer felt the necessity to correct those who stated Amy was his girlfriend. Clue number four.

And then there had been that fateful night of cuddling. Again, all because of Penny…and Bernadette. He had been worried when he couldn't reach Amy through any normal modes of communication. Clue number five.

Then he had gone over there and when Amy had suggested a night of "love making" what had he done? Had he told her, in no uncertain terms, that physical contact was out of the question? No. Instead he had bargained with her. Clue number six.

Why hadn't he seen it? The clues had been everywhere.

Clue number seven: he had actually given thought, however fleeting, to a drunken Amy's question regarding what it would take for him to purchase alcohol and take her into a hotel room.

Clue number eight: he had not been happy with Amy dating Stuart.

Clue number nine: he couldn't stop thinking of Amy and Stuart potentially engaging in intercourse.

And where had these clues, which he had continually ignored, led? To Sheldon Lee Cooper, man of science, asking a girl to be his girlfriend.

Yes. Somehow, without his realizing just what was happening to him, he, Sheldon, had found himself in a romantic attachment…of his own making no less. What had happened to him? How had this brown haired, green eyed vixen managed to enslave him?

He sighed. And enslave him she had. There was no denying it now; not when she was sleeping just down the hall from him, in their shared apartment.

How had he gotten here? The entire crux of the Relationship Agreement had been that nothing change, physical or otherwise. And yet somehow, a mere 4 months after said agreement, he had found himself changing their binding covenant to allow for hand holding. And again it had been his idea.

And had that amendment managed to allow him to reclaim a measure of control? Had things stayed blissfully the same after that? No. Instead, Amy had kissed him.

He sighed, exasperated, as he thought of his reaction. Oh how he wished he had seized on that perfect opportunity to rebuff her advancements and proclaim that he was a man of science and not a kissing machine. Instead, he had amended the Relationship Agreement for a second time! And in such a way as to allow further intimacy between himself and this mysterious woman from Glendale.

He tossed on his bed. What was it about her that caused him to question his deep seated beliefs that emotions were for weaklings and relationships were useless? How had she done it? If he were given to such flights of fantasy, he would almost have believed it was witchcraft. For what else can explain his desire to keep her happy? To buy her expensive gifts when he had wronged her? To sincerely apologize when he had erred? To admit that he had erred at all?

I think you know.

There it was again. That niggling voice he had come to loath. He immediately silenced it.

Who asked for your opinion? You know nothing, he replied.

This was exactly what he was talking about when he said his life was topsy turvy. He had never had arguments with voices in his head until he had met Amy. His mind had been nothing but a logical machine, focused entirely on a quest whose prize was named Nobel.

That man of two and a half years ago would never have willingly kissed a woman...who was not his Meemaw…on the lips.

But he had. That man. This man. Sheldon Lee Cooper. Sheldon Lee Cooper had kissed a woman. It was beyond comprehension…which was saying a lot because not many things in life were beyond his comprehension.

He groaned as he thought of the events of this evening. Had he never kissed Amy, been kissed by Amy, cuddled or held hands with Amy, then what had happened would never have happened.

If he had paid attention to the glaring clues, had never signed the Relationship Agreement, then things would be different.

If he had simply refused to even entertain the idea of meeting a woman "chosen" for him by "science", dirty sock or no dirty sock, then his life would never have changed, and he would not be feeling the turmoil and confusion he was currently feeling.

But he had met her, had ignored the clues, had signed the Relationship Agreement, had held hands and cuddled with her, had been kissed by her, and had indeed kissed her himself. And it had all led to the events of the night. He tossed on his bed again.

After doing all of those things, just when he was beginning to believe that perhaps they had reached a homeostasis, after multiple months with no further challenges to their relationship, what had happened? What idea had he had? What had he done? He had proposed.

It was not often he admitted he was wrong, even to himself, but honestly what had he been thinking? It was all Leonard and Penny's fault of course. They had upset the delicate balance with their determination to move in together, without thought or regard to how it would affect his life.

And he, still not fully comprehending how completely ensnared he was by this hotsy totsy he was dating, had decided that marriage was the next logical step.

Logical! What would have been logical would have been to find another roommate. If he had done what was truly logical, then the events of this evening would never have occurred, and he would not be spending his precious sleeping hours pondering the course of his life.

He could have maintained their homeostasis, but instead, like some common fool he had decided to act on impulse. He had thought Amy as a spouse would solve all his problems.

He scoffed at his own naiveté. That was the last time he would act impulsively. How can he know so much about so many things and yet be so woefully ignorant in regards to romantic relationships.

Yes. There. He had admitted it to himself. He knew nothing of romance. He knew nothing of the heart, save its function as the vehicle through which pumped an entire body's supply of blood. He had known these things were dangerous, but in retrospect he had not quite realized the subtlety with which they crept into one's life. Had he fully realized just how dangerous they were, he would have kept a closer watch on himself. He would never have allowed his relationship with Amy to become a relationship, in any way shape or form.

He was not supposed to be spending his time pondering things like romance and his girlfriend's libido. He needed to be thinking about the infinite universe and all its complexities. And yet was he? No. He wasn't. He wasn't thinking at all about the universe and its complexities. He was instead thinking about the events of this evening. Pondering how he got here. Brooding on the causality of his inner turmoil.

Oh, that he could go back and change things! Not propose to Amy; not move in with Amy. If he had at least done those two things, perhaps life would have moved blissfully forward, with no further dramatic shifts in his thoughts.

But he had proposed and she had moved in. And then everything had changed.

What a fool he had been, requesting Amy to rub Vaporub on his chest. He had been sick and not thinking clearly. After all his precautions, all his careful planning, he had still ended up sick. But why had he asked her to rub the Vaporub on his chest? Why not Penny? Penny had been doing it for years and he had felt nothing more than soothed during a time of illness. He had even had Amy get Penny to sing him Soft Kitty. She had been present. There had been no need for Amy to rub Vaporub on his chest.

But he hadn't asked Penny to rub Vaporub on his chest. He had asked Amy.

The moment she had begun to rub her hand in a circle on his chest, his entire life had changed. He hadn't known what was going on, save that he was suddenly very aware that his girlfriend was touching his bare chest. His skin had felt tingly wherever her fingers touched. He hadn't been able to breathe. The rush of feelings had been too much for him to process. All he had been able to comprehend was that this was something he had never experienced before. This was new. And frightening.

He had been both relieved and dismayed when Amy had removed her hand at the end of Penny's off key rendition of Soft Kitty. His mind had been set whirring, questioning what had happened; examining his response. He had not known what to say to Amy. He had been certain she had noticed his lack of movement during the song, but she had asked nothing. She had instead sat in silence with him, until the tea kettle had started screaming. She had gotten up while he still pondered what was going on; why his body had reacted so strangely.

And then she had come back and requested cuddling. Yet another missed opportunity for him to have denied her. He had said yes, and when she had leaned awkwardly against him, he had come to the conclusion that the most logical thing to do would be to cuddle under one blanket.

His brain had been failing him. The logical thing to do would have been to stay under two separate blankets. But no. Because of all of the previous events of the past two and a half years, his normally functional, intelligent brain had decided that the logical thing to do would be to share a blanket.

And so share a blanket they had. And he had enjoyed it.

He sighed again. Yes, now that he reflected upon it, there was no denying it. He had enjoyed having Amy snuggled against his chest. Despite being ill, with achy joints, stuffy nose, and a fever, he had felt most comforted when the warmth of Amy's body had been close.

Oh it was terrible!...Oh but not so terrible as the events of this evening. He groaned again, his heart starting to race as he recalled what had happened. If he had not allowed Amy to snuggle against him when they were both sick, then it would never have happened.

But he had allowed Amy to snuggle against him. And he had enjoyed it.

And in the days that followed he had found himself thinking even more about Amy. He had found himself wanting to cuddle with her, and even…dare he admit it?...wanting to kiss her! And the worst part was that he couldn't escape her. She lived there. She was there when he woke up; there when he came home; there all night long when he tried and failed to sleep.

Since her second night in the apartment she had not had any further night terrors. If ever he would have believed that his mother's god answered prayers, it would have been for that. He had not had to suffer through wrapping his entire body around hers. His body shuddered at the thought.

Oh, but that was where the answered prayers ended. Amy had taken it upon herself to "help" him with what she called his "irrational fear of germs". It was a nightmare. She ambushed him frequently. And she had gotten the others of their group to participate, so he had no one to turn to for help. Even his own mother refused to take his side, saying she was happy that he had a woman who knew how to handle her little Shelly Bean.

Amy tried many things, but never repeated them, so he was forever on his guard. And she had told him once that some of the things she told him were true and some weren't, so he could never be sure which was which. Had she really taken a sip of his tea? Had she really asked all of their friends to put a finger on his food? He never knew and it drove him mad. She had even hidden his bottles of antibiotics and had called his doctor. Now no amount of telephone calls would induce his doctor to write him more prescriptions.

And through this entire nightmare he still found that his thoughts more frequently focused on Amy than on the unendurable amount of germs she was attempting to expose him to. He wondered if he could blame Penny for this too. Never in his life had an inch of exposed skin caused him to experience tachycardia and loss of breath. And yet that is exactly what had happened when Amy had reached up for the cereal and exposed a small portion of her stomach. He was starting to seriously doubt the validity of Kolinahr. It had failed him far too frequently of late.

Oh but never had it failed him more than tonight.

It had started off like any other night. Their friends had joined them for dinner (Amy claiming, after Sheldon had already eaten one, that she had asked Leonard to touch all the dumplings) and they had sat around conversing. It had been an evening like most others.

After everyone had left, Sheldon had asked Amy if she would like to watch something. Amy had said alright and so he had put in the first episode of Firefly. He knew she didn't care for science fiction, but he was determined that she have a wide variety of exposure before allowing her to fully state that she does not care for the genre. After all, she wasn't vehemently opposed to Doctor Who, so who knew? There might be hope.

They had sat down and Amy had requested they cuddle. Sheldon had agreed even though his heart rate had increased as soon as Amy's head had rested on his shoulder. But everything had been ok. Sheldon could have handled it. In fact, after a few minutes his heart rate had started to return back to normal…that is until Amy had sat up and asked him to pause the DVD.

He had done so and she had turned to him, telling him she would like permission to try an experiment. As a scientist who values the scientific method, he had foolishly said yes. And then Amy had kissed him.

But she hadn't kissed him as she had the other times she had kissed him. As he lay in bed now, recalling, his breath started coming quicker and his heart raced. He was certain he could blame Penny for what Amy did. The Amy he had known for two and a half years did not know how to French kiss. He knew because of that one time they had tried it. At that time they had agreed that they must not have employed it correctly. So the only explanation he could think of for why Amy suddenly had a handle on French kissing was that she had asked Penny for the specifics.

And she most definitely had a handle on it. Of that he was certain. When she had kissed him, he had been startled by the ferocity with which she attacked him and had opened his mouth in a gasp. She had taken that opportunity to stick her tongue in his mouth.

He had frozen, completely stunned. Amy had pulled away and looked at him. He had asked her why she did that and she had said she had multiple reasons, one of which being that it was a good way to continue his exposure to germs.

If he was to be completely honest with himself, exposure to her germs had been the very last thing to cross his mind…and he wasn't sure if he was ready to admit what the first thing to cross his mind had been.

When he hadn't said anything for several moments after Amy's first kiss, she had hesitantly leaned forward and kissed first one of his cheeks, and then the other. His cheeks had felt burned. After kissing his second cheek she had hovered, her face close to his, looking at him in the eyes.

His mind had blanked. All he could focus on was her face. Without contemplating what he was doing, he had reached over and put both of his hands on her face, pulling her back for another kiss. She had again stuck her tongue in his mouth, but this time he hadn't frozen. He had allowed it to happen.

In fact, all he had thought about was the awkward position they were at, sitting next to each other. His mind still not functioning properly, he had let go of her face and had grabbed her by the waist pulling her onto his lap.

She had broken off the kiss and had looked at him in surprise. He had surprised himself. What was he doing? What was going on? He had become frightened of the feelings attempting to surge upwards and had started to push Amy off, but she had grabbed his hands before he could shove her and had immediately kissed him again.

All his thoughts had left his head yet again. What was it about kissing Amy that rendered his mind stupid? Why did it always go blank? All he had been able to focus on was Amy kissing him and he kissing her. His hands had snaked around her waist of their own accord and she had wrapped her arms around his neck.

He was unsure now how long they had been kissing. It felt like an hour, but perhaps it had only been ten minutes…or ten seconds…he really couldn't be sure. All he knows now is that in the blink of an eye, a hot flash had coursed through his body and his arms had tightened around Amy's waist, drawing her up against his chest. He started to feel things he had never felt before, both physical and emotional. He had slid his hand up her back to touch her hair, enjoying its silky texture between his fingers, and they had continued kissing.

At one point he had marveled that they had managed to remain kissing for so long without the necessity to break apart for air, when, no more than three seconds after that, Amy had broken away. His breath had come quickly as he had stared at Amy's green eyes.

Neither one had said anything for a few moments. He didn't know what Amy had been thinking, but the inklings of the implications of what they had been doing had started to creep in to his mind. But before he could fully restart his brain, Amy had kissed him again, pressing his back into the back of the couch.

Only then had he realized what he was doing. His higher brain function had finally kicked in. He had immediately broken off the kiss, jumped up from the couch, and had fled to his room.

He had not been out since. Oh what had happened? How could he have let himself get to this point? It wasn't what he had wanted. He had never wanted a romantic attachment. He had been repulsed by the mere idea of coitus. It was a germ riddled nightmare; he had told himself this more times than he wanted to count!

And yet he had thought nothing of germs. He had thought nothing about controlling emotions. He had thought nothing about controlling his baser urges!

He was so confused…

A/N: Thank you very much for reading. I took a calculated risk here. I'm a little worried that I took the characters too far too fast (for this story). Reviews would be much appreciated. :)

P.S. That's as far as I go. I don't care for racy/steamy scenes personally. I don't regret the scene, and it is necessary for the plot, but will be taken no further. Just friendly reminder that I said at the beginning there would be no Shamy Sex. :)