A/N: I was a very sick girl for about a week and then life got in the way, but no excuses, tx-fictionqueen! I'm terribly sorry for the wait. I think you all may forgive me as you read on…enjoy ;]

P.S. I have a thing for Jim Parsons' hands. And you all might too after this chapter.

Outside, the wind was howling and the rain marched steadily atop the roof. The creaks of the wooden floorboards beneath their feet creaked appropriately with each step they took. Shakespeare's pants accompanied the clicks of his claws as he kept up with the pair, nosily sniffing the strange man's ankles and on high alert as he became assimilated to the new guest. Sheldon was murmuring his impressed observations of the structure of her home. But none of these sounds were louder than the beat of Amy's fitful heart.

The warm sensation of his hand in hers, his hold firm even when they turned a tight corner to leave the kitchen and walk down the hallway, was transforming her, causing her to feel something inside that she had never felt before, things she never was prepared to feel for anyone.

Sheldon had come to her without her having to ask. He was real, not a figment of her imagination.

She peered down through her glasses and studied the contours of the delicate veins on his hands and the thickness of Sheldon's knuckles; his skin was soft in hers, almost creamy, but he had the hands of an experienced, masculine being. She gave an involuntary shudder; Amy very vividly remembered the feel of Sheldon's deliberate hands rubbing the skin of her pelvis through her jeans last night on his bed. Her eyes fluttered closed while the memory caused a warm glow to pool in her stomach and she felt Sheldon pause next to her.

"Amy?"

When she opened her eyes again, the two of them had arrived at the mouth of the living room entrance. She saw Sheldon just one step ahead, looking down at her with concern. She studied the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the tendons in his neck flexing as he swallowed, the subtle drag of his red, pointy tongue along his full, lower lip. These signs of vitality jolted her and she stared back at him hungrily. She abruptly dropped her hand from his and reached up, placing both of her palms flat on his chest. They slid up until she had a grip on the collar of his checkered shirt, the fabric still damp from the rain. In that moment she felt the elements surrounding them cease. Nothing existed except for this sudden craving.

"Sheldon," she breathed, her eyes focused solely on his mouth.

He needed no other indication; Sheldon's eyes went slack and his neck lowered until he crashed his lips into hers, placing both of his hands on her hips and roughly squeezing them.

All of Amy's fear and hesitation of letting him explore the house with her bled freely into a force that she was not familiar with. A longing to not only have Sheldon explore her house, but explore her as well. She moaned, appreciating his possessive hold on her as their kiss intensified, slipping her tongue between his lips. They walked backward clumsily, Sheldon moving his feet blindly in the direction that Amy was pushing him. She broke the kiss momentarily, pushing him down until he landed in her favorite leather armchair. He stared up at her expectantly and before she could talk herself out of it, she propped one knee between Sheldon's thigh and the arm of the chair and leaned forward, easily bringing her other knee up so could straddle him. His blue eyes went wide with surprise, but quickly darkened as desire took over. His hands flew right back to her hips as she carefully adjusted herself on his lap.

"I…" she began, her voice low and meek.

"What?" Sheldon asked, a hint of impatience staining his voice as he keenly studied her lips.

"I'm never like this." While she finished her sentence, Sheldon's large hands had dangerously migrated south from her hips and his fingers were now cupping her rear end. She shivered and bit her lower lip. Sensations were flying at her from all corners of the universe now and she was almost thankful that even at 28 years-old, she had never kissed another man. She was certain that with anyone that wasn't Sheldon Cooper, it would not feel this way.

"I have no complaints," he growled, diving into the crevice between her slender neck and collarbone. He nipped her lightly and she hissed, instinctively grinding her hips further down into his lap. She froze at the contact that her body was forcing her to make. He felt her stiffen and he reeled back immediately, his face repentant.

"I'm sorry. I don't want to force you into anything." His hands detached themselves from her bottom and Amy quickly began to panic.

"No," she protested. She placed one hand at the back of his neck and lightly scratched the scruff of hair there, receiving a grateful groan from Sheldon. Her other hand, trembling slightly, went to his bicep and rested there. "Keep your hands on me. But, just go slow."

Sheldon nodded in confirmation to her request. But instead of replacing his grip on her butt, he placed one hand at the small of her back, spreading his fingers so that he had a good hold on her. The other hand went to cup her cheek and he studied her with an unflinching stare. She wanted to look away as the intensity of his eyes caused her to flail with uncertainty. Was he angry that she asked him to slow down? Panic began to rise again and just as she was about to ask him why he stopped, he spoke.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are."

It was a statement with no hint of question, no room for argument. The hand on her face lowered to her throat and he cupped the side of her neck, bringing her closer to him. She closed her eyes as his familiar, clean scent filled her nostrils. Her wet lips went cold as his breath washed over her face. "And you also have no idea how badly I want you right now."

Amy could have argued with that point, as evidence to support his claim nudged unabashed between her legs.

"Kiss me, Sheldon," she demanded as her breathing kicked up, the tips of her breasts barely grazing his chest.

"I am going slow, per your request." With that, he released his hold from her neck and leaned back into the arm chair, creating a distance between them.

She narrowed her eyes and frowned petulantly. "Not that slow." Her frown only deepened when Sheldon chuckled, his mouth closed tight as he smiled at her.

"I'm not trying to tease you, Amy. Believe me, this is killing me. But I agree that we should go slow." She opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her, leaning forward quickly and pecked her on the lips with his. He fell back again and perched an eyebrow at her. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm not going to change my mind. But you deserve to be courted, appreciated. There will always be time for kissing. And soon, time to…well, you know." He glanced down suggestively at his lap where Amy was still resting and gave a shrug. "But not now."

"I should have just kept my big mouth shut," Amy huffed, pushing herself up and off of Sheldon before standing up on wobbly legs in front of him. She looked down dejectedly and was sure that revealing just how much of a virgin she was to him was the final nail in the coffin. He swiftly got up on his own feet and faced her. Then he hooked his finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at his face.

"Funny you should mention your mouth," he murmured, looking straight into her eyes. "The very part of your body that kept me up all last night." He pressed his body flush against hers, bracing her back again with his free hand. "Don't ever shut your mouth. It's so much better when it's open."

Before Amy could completely crumple to the ground under the weight of his bold innuendo, Sheldon wrapped both arms around her waist and leaned down to kiss her again. She realized in that moment that going slow might not be too bad. She would never get tired of this slow burn.

It doesn't last.

The warning entered her mind, scrolling on the lids of her closed eyes as Sheldon deepened the kiss. Is this what Penelope was trying to tell her wouldn't last? As if answering her own question, she wrapped her arms tightly around Sheldon's neck, daring anyone or anything, hallucination or force of nature, to separate them.

It was a few minutes before they finally broke the kiss, Sheldon sadly staying firm on his promise to go slow. He removed his hands from under the hem of her t-shirt and she unclenched her finger nails that had found their way under the collar of his shirt, scratching his skin. After they caught their breath and readjusted their clothing, eyeing each other shyly, Sheldon intertwined his fingers with Amy's once again and looked around the living room, taking in the bare walls and floors.

"Are you sure this is just a living room?" he inquired, his eyes shifting to every corner.

"Why do you ask?"

"This is large enough to be a ballroom, really. Look at all this space." He motioned with his arm as though Amy hadn't seen it with her own eyes before.

"I guess," she said as she shrugged, not truly impressed by the size. She watched him as he looked at the windows.

"You have one chair and no drapes," he said flatly. "You're like a bachelor."

"The most pathetic bachelor in the world," Amy laughed easily, her heart rate finally slowing down to a normal pace. She followed his gaze that was suddenly on the floor as he noticed an object that was out of place.

"There's a broken wine bottle on the ground." He pulled her with him by the hand as he walked over to the shattered bottle beneath the light switch on the wall. Immediately, Amy went red with embarrassment. Before he got there, and right before she had a hallucination of Penelope's voice, she had planned to sit in her one chair in the middle of the living room and drink herself to sleep. Next to the broken glass and red liquid was her satchel with her journal in it. She didn't have an explanation for how pathetic it all looked, and she waited, holding her breath until Sheldon turned around to look at her, question flashing across his eyes.

"I dropped it when you knocked on the door," she said quickly. "The noise startled me because I wasn't expecting you." Believable enough, she convinced herself. Still didn't explain why there was a full bottle of wine on the ground and no wine glass in which to moderate her intake with.

"Oh," Sheldon said, looking down and toeing the shards with his boot. His eyes flitted over to her hand, the one that was still bandaged from her episode with broken glass on his bed the night before. She hid it behind her thigh on impulse. As if sensing her discomfort, Sheldon nodded, dismissing the obviously questionable behavior. "Should we clean this up before we continue on our tour?" he asked nonchalantly.

She smiled appreciatively. "No, that's quite alright. I can clean it up later." She squeezed his fingers with hers and began to pull on his arm. "Let's go. We've got a lot of house to cover and we've already lost daylight."

"Fair enough," Sheldon relented and allowed himself to be led away from Amy's mess.

"There are three rooms downstairs that I've already gone through," Amy began, her voice light as they left the living room and reentered the hallway. "They were empty thankfully, except for dust."

"I see."

"I guess I plan on keeping them that way, or maybe converting one into a guest room." Amy led him to the room at the end of the hallway. "This one, though, is my favorite in the house."

She used her free hand to open the door all the way, the musky smell of abandon hitting them both in the face. She felt around for the light switch, letting go of Sheldon's hand. When she found it, she flipped it up and the bulb flickered from the ceiling before flooding the small area with light. Just then, a flash of lightening bolted across the outside sky and Sheldon gasped as he saw it clearly through the wall that was covered entirely by one large, glass window.

"Amy, this is wonderful," he mumbled, stepping forward to press his hand against the glass and watched the rain pound the earth from inside. Amy joined him and pointed up, showing him the greatest feature of this part of the room. The large window slanted upward at an angle, creating a dome-like shape that encased them. As they looked up, the rain fell from the sky and pummeled the glass above them.

"When I first saw this room, I thought it might have been added as a greenhouse or something, all this open space. But of course, I wouldn't know. I've never been here before, even though this house belonged to my grandparents. My father grew up here, though he never mentioned this place in great detail." She sighed, shrugging off the hint of nostalgia that crept up on her as she remembered her father. Sheldon looked down at her with a kind smile, waiting for her to continue. "Anyway, I figure I could use this room to write. You probably can't tell right now because of the storm, but from this room, looking through the window, you have a beautiful view of the forest and the inlet from the sound. Quite inspiring."

"I agree," Sheldon said right away, looking out into the rain. "Very inspiring." After a few moments of appreciating the rain, Amy cleared her throat.

"Ready to see more?" she asked, and when he nodded enthusiastically, she couldn't help but laugh. "I'm really happy you're here, Sheldon." The sentence poured out of her lips without putting any thought into it and she blushed slightly. "I was dreading doing this, you know. Exploring. But you were right; it is a little easier knowing that you're here."

"My pleasure," he assured her, grabbing her hand again. "Upstairs now?"

"Yes."

They walked out of the room in companionable silence and when they got to the foot of the stairs, Amy realized that she hadn't seen Shakespeare in quite some time. She stopped before Sheldon could pull her up the steps with him and her brows furrowed.

"What's wrong?" Sheldon asked.

"My dog," she said absently, immediately loosening her grip on Sheldon's hand. She walked away towards the living room where the light was still on, but saw no trace of him. "Shakes!" she called, clapping her hands together once. "Come!" She heard Sheldon come up behind her as she placed her hands on her hips and listened for her dog.

"I hear his collar tags jingling," Sheldon said suddenly, turning on his heels and heading for the stairs. As he ascended the steps, Amy listened again, but didn't hear the jingling that Sheldon was talking about. He soon disappeared into the darkness of the upstairs hallway and Amy blanched, realizing that she was downstairs alone. She looked over her shoulder and her eyes raked her surroundings, listening for any noise that would lead her to her dog.

"Shakes," she called again, her voice slightly weak with fear. "Come, boy." Her blood was suddenly cold and she realized that she never had to call her dog more than once before he arrived at her side. And she still couldn't hear the sound of his tags like Sheldon has said he did.

"Amy?"

She gripped the railing of the staircase and lifted her neck up towards the second floor as she heard Sheldon call her name. "Sheldon?"

"Amy, come here."

Her breath coming in short, Amy chastised herself for being a coward and forced her legs to move up the stairs.

What is your problem? she demanded of herself. You walk up these stairs to your bedroom every day. She reached the top step, her legs shaky, when she called out for Sheldon again.

"I'm over here," he answered from one of the doors down the hallway. The first half of the hall was dark so she followed the sound of his voice until she saw the light from her bathroom pouring out of the open door. She froze as panic flooded every inch of her body. What was he doing in her bathroom?

My medication, she lamented internally as her legs suddenly began to work again and she hurried towards the light. When Amy reached the door, she looked in and saw that it was empty. She immediately went inside, heading towards her vanity mirror and opened it to see if any of her meds had been moved or disturbed. Even though she had not taken them in a few days, she had studied them every morning when she woke up, going back and forth with herself on whether or not she should take them, so she knew exactly what position they were in. Everything was untouched and she let out a whoosh of relief, her breathing stabilizing. She must have left the light on when she was in here earlier. If she had walked in on Sheldon holding her medication in his hands, she wouldn't have known what to say. Amy was not ready for him to explore that part of her just yet. She closed the mirror and braced herself against the sink with both of her hands.

"Amy!" Sheldon called again, more urgent this time. She craned her neck to the left and followed his voice again, out of the bathroom and into the hall. She looked down towards her bedroom and saw that the door was slightly ajar. When she arrived, she pushed it open all the way and saw Sheldon standing there with a piece of parchment in his hands and a very puzzled look on his face.

"What is that?" she asked while she looked around the room for Shakespeare. "Was Shakes in here?"

"No," Sheldon said softly, his eyes roaming over the tattered paper in his hands still. "I thought I heard him so I came in here. I see that it's your bedroom and I'm sorry for intruding."

"No," Amy said. "It's okay." She waited until he finally tore his gaze away from the paper in his hands and met her eyes. "Where did you get that?" She pointed with her chin towards the paper though she had no idea what it was.

"I was hoping you could answer me the same question." Sheldon suddenly looked unhappy and slightly uncomfortable.

"Okay," she said slowly, walking towards him as he held the paper out to her. She took it carefully and gave him a questioning look before lowering her eyes to study it. At first glance, it looked like a treasure map from a cartoon like Peter Pan, a thick, dotted line swirling until it met the bottom corner of the paper with a big red X.

"I have no idea what this is," she said immediately and turned it in her hands to look at it from a different angle. At the top of the page, the dotted line began at the foot of a sketch of a large mansion with four columns holding it upright. She gasped as the familiarity of the mansion resonated.

"The Coliseum," Sheldon supplied, his voice quiet yet taut. Amy's neck snapped up and she tried to read the distant look on his face, but he urged her to keep looking at the paper. She did, and she traced the dotted line with a finger until it came into contact with a sketch of the large forest. It twirled around through the trees until Amy saw the big red X again. She assumed from the positioning of the destination, that this was a map to the theater. She scoured the edges of the paper until she saw a continuation of the dotted line with the words River Road sprawled above it. The name of the street she lived on. Sure enough, at the end of River Road where the dotted line led was a sketch of Amy's manor.

"It's a map to the theater, just like the one I found at the mansion my father left me." Sheldon's voice was still slightly on edge, more so than Amy would like. She didn't understand why, but she was beginning to become uncomfortable with his tone.

"Sheldon," she breathed. "Where did you find this?"

"Like I said, I thought I heard Shakespeare in here," he explained again. "And I saw this rolled up on your bed."

"No," Amy protested, shaking her head as she understood suddenly why Sheldon was coming off as suspicious. "I've never seen this in my life. I didn't put it on my bed." Her voice was shaking fervently and she looked hard at Sheldon, willing him to believe her.

"Okay," he said without commitment. "Well then, who did?"

"I don't know," she said testily. "I have no idea." Before she could get worked up, she exhaled slowly. She inhaled just as slow and gave Sheldon a concerned look. "You're sure this was on my bed?"

"Yes," he answered honestly, his hands behind his back as he slightly hunched forward. "I didn't snoop around."

"I didn't mean it to sound like I was accusing you of something," she insisted. "I'm just, at a loss for words. I have no idea how this got in my house, let alone on my bed." With that, she walked past Sheldon and over to her mattress where she sunk down and stared thoughtfully at the paper in her hands again.

"Do you know what it means to be in possession of this map, Amy?" Sheldon asked after a long silence. She looked up at him expectantly as he walked towards her, his hands still clasped at the base of his spine. "Whoever left you that map was giving you an inheritance. The theater in the woods was built for us to take over."

"Wait, wait," Amy muttered, shaking her head in protest, out of confusion, or maybe both. "Hold on. For us?"

Sheldon carefully took the map from her and studied it front and back before his shoulders relaxed a bit and his face softened. He peered down at her apologetically before he spoke. "Upon further inspection, this isn't my map. It's almost an exact copy, but mine has my initials sketched at the bottom corner. This one has yours."

"What?" Amy felt the air around her get a bit thinner as she tried to come to terms with what Sheldon was trying to tell her. He shoved the paper towards her and pointed at the bottom left-hand corner of the parchment, where sure enough, A.F.F. was crudely drawn. "I don't understand."

"Amy," Sheldon said slowly before deciding to join her on the bed, sitting right next to her. He turned and faced her. "I'm sorry for coming off as cross. You have to understand that it was a shock to see something that was previously in my possession suddenly in yours. But this is not the map that was drawn for me. This was drawn specifically for you." He watched her as she continued to shake her head back and forth, staring at the window on the south wall of her room but not really seeing anything. "Do you know what this means, Amy?"

"No." She felt Sheldon's warm hand snake under her clenched fist and force her fingers to splay open so that he could hold her hand. At the contact, her trance was momentarily broken and she turned her face to look at him. His expression had brightened considerably as he continued.

"This means that you and I own the theater." When Amy stared at him blankly, not comprehending, he huffed slightly and licked his lips. "Amy, this means that this wasn't an accident. You coming to Evergreen Falls then wandering into the forest and happening upon the performances was not a coincidence. You belong here."

At those last three words, Amy recoiled slightly from him. "Sheldon, I've never been here in my life. My father was raised by his parents until he was sixteen and he ran away to California. I wasn't even a thought in his mind when he was a teenager. How could I belong here?"

"I don't know, Amy," Sheldon answered truthfully, his blue eyes rolling up towards the ceiling as he became lost in his own thoughts for a moment. "But I still had a map waiting for me when I inherited my mansion and my father didn't even know I existed, remember?"

A slight chill rolled over her body as Amy struggled to think of a logical explanation. She lowered her eyes to the corner of the map that had her initials inked in, plain as day. "What does it mean, that I own the theater?"

"I'm assuming this means you have a say in what gets performed and a responsibility in maintaining the sanctity of our set up, just like I do," Sheldon said distractedly, his eyes still looking up to the ceiling. "This is fascinating."

"No," Amy disagreed. "This is wrong. I'm…Sheldon, you don't understand. My father never would have left me with such a huge responsibility."

"He left you with this house, did he not?" he countered, his eyebrows high on his forehead.

"Yes, but…" Amy trailed off, not sure how to explain to Sheldon just how baffled she was by Robbie Fowler leaving her this manor without explaining that just one year ago, she was being discharged from a mental facility that had been her home for the past decade. There was simply no explanation as to why her dad left this here for her. "Sheldon, I don't want this responsibility. It's yours."

"Amy," Sheldon began, softly pulling the parchment from her hands and tossing it behind him. He then brought both of his hands around and placed them on hers, giving her something to hold onto as she felt herself flounder. "You were brought here for a reason. I saw this theater as a sanctuary for me in an otherwise dull, ordinary life. A creative outlet for me and the people I've met to express ourselves freely. Do you know what it's like to have something build up inside of you with no hope for release?"

Amy was startled at his question for a moment before she nodded slowly. She knew exactly what that felt like.

"Well," he continued. "So do I. And so does Rajesh, Howard and Bernadette. Even Penelope." At this name, Amy's eyes widened. Sheldon didn't seem to notice. "Providing this theater is an opportunity for all of the performers to have a cathartic experience. It's a service, really. Not so much a responsibility. It's great, Amy. Don't be afraid." He lifted his hand and smoothed a strand of her hair behind her ear. "This is exciting. It's our theater to share. You and I."

Although Amy liked the sound of you and I leaving Sheldon's bow-shaped lips, she was still skeptical. He had no way of knowing this, but Amy came to Evergreen Falls to escape her reality, to escape her infamy as Robbie Fowler's troubled daughter and leave behind whatever it was that made her crazy, but she wasn't faring too well on that front, with all the hallucinations of Penelope plaguing her. But with the sudden appearance of this enigmatic map, Amy feared she wasn't any closer to leaving her past behind as she had hoped. The sight of the map made her feel cold all over. It meant that someone knew she would end up here someday. Someone had her right where they wanted her.

She abruptly looked up at Sheldon and studied his face. His eyes were friendly, warm and even slightly in awe of her. She wanted to tell him everything, her fears, her daunting feeling of impending doom breathing at her neck, but how could she without sending him running for the hills? How could she try to explain to him something that not even she fully understood?

She wished her father were still around to answer these questions for her.

"Hey," Sheldon said suddenly, lifting his hand again towards her. She thought he was going to touch her hair again but instead he pressed his fingers to her cheek and wiped away something wet. "You're crying." His face suddenly fell, concern dominating his once excited features.

"Sorry," she said as she swiped hastily at her eyes. "I'm just, confused is all."

"Don't be," Sheldon insisted. "Amy, I'm not dense. I know there are things about you that I have not even begun to scratch the surface in order to learn. But I'm willing to wait it out. To be here, with you, until you are ready to open up to me." He placed a hand on her neck, curling his fingers around her throat beneath her ear in the possessive way that drove her crazy. She closed her eyes as he continued. "You are worth the wait."

Amy felt her heart palpitate as her eyes fluttered open. "Thank you," was all she could say, feeling the weight lift slightly off of her shoulders. The pressure to reveal everything to him was kept at bay for the moment. She took a few deep breaths and finally felt the tears stop flowing. She wiped at her face one more time before looking up and smiling at Sheldon gratefully.

"I'm sorry for freaking out. This is all just a lot." She chewed on her lower lip, hesitating for a moment before deciding she could let Sheldon in just a little further. "I was just thinking about my father."

"I'm sure you were," Sheldon said sympathetically, leaning his head to the side. "You just lost him. I'm sure you miss him every moment of every day."

Instead of saying anything, Amy just nodded. "It helps though, now that I know you."

"What do you mean?"

Amy thought about the first night in the stables with Sheldon, when she took his hand and imagined an invisible tether joining them together. "Since I lost my father, I've felt suspended. Floating around, no anchor to this earth. Extremely alone." She sighed and added, "And then I met you."

"It's funny you should describe yourself that way," Sheldon said with a longing in his eyes. "I've felt that way my whole life. Like I was watching my life happen from the outskirts, never truly belonging to anyone or anything. I felt that the inheritance of my fortune, my mansion, and the theater was a chance for me to finally feel part of this world. But nothing has ever made me feel real and alive than having met you, Amy Farrah Fowler." He paused, waiting for her to meet his eyes. "My father gave me a task. You give me purpose."

Amy felt like Sheldon extracted this sentiment out of her own mind for how similar she felt about him. She couldn't be sure if it was Robbie Fowler that brought her here to this moment, or some unknown player that she had yet to discover, but she suddenly didn't care. She was here, just as real and alive as Sheldon was holding her hand. She was about to say something when she heard the familiar jingle of collar tags from outside of her bedroom. A split second later, Shakespeare appeared in her doorway, his heavy tail thumping erratically against the frame and his tongue hanging out of his muzzle. He did a full body shake before stretching his four legs and happily padding over to Amy and Sheldon.

"Hey, you," she greeted him, relief and amusement overcoming her. She smiled as her Lab burrowed his nose underneath her and Sheldon's joined hands, successfully separating their fingers and resting his brown, furry head between them.

"Someone's jealous," Sheldon cracked, his smile wide and sincere as he gently patted her dog's head.

"He's the man," Amy laughed lightly, peering admiringly at her canine companion. "Where were you, Shakespeare? Huh?" She was only half-serious as she looked into his black eyes like she was expecting an answer. Sheldon had said he heard the sound of her dog's tags which led him into her bedroom, but he obviously hadn't been in here. She shook her head, unsure of what made sense anymore and what didn't.

"He probably got tired of waiting for us downstairs," Sheldon suggested, waggling his eyebrows at Amy meaningfully. "You know, when we were on the leather arm chair and you were distracting me."

"Sorry, I don't know what you're talking about," she replied coyly, rubbing Shakespeare's flank and avoiding Sheldon's eyes.

"Shakespeare, you might want to take a knee. Your mother needs a little reminding."

Amy's giggles were drowned out by the crashing of the thunder outside her window as Sheldon leaned over her, flattening her body with his own as they fell back on the mattress and he covered her neck in kisses. Shakespeare barked angrily at the rain and sat on his haunches, faithfully keeping watch at the foot of the bed while Sheldon and Amy's playful tickling slowed considerably as their lips met once again.

She had a feeling this house held more mysteries than unopened doors and hidden maps. But whatever other mysteries were in store, right now, as she lied flat on her back, her legs slightly spread open as Sheldon lowered his fully clothed body into hers, pinning her arms above her head with one of his large hands while his lithe tongue ignited a fire on her lips, they could wait.

The world could wait.