Curses (takes place after Goodnight Moon)
Sheldon stood up, gingerly carrying his sleeping daughter. "I'll put her to bed and heat up some food for you while you pump."
Amy swung her legs over the edge of the bed, when Sheldon stopped and turned in the doorway. "And, Amy? I love you."
Just as he was opening the can, he heard the shower start, so Sheldon decided to warm the soup on the stove so that it would stay hot until Amy finished with her shower. It was gently bubbling as he stirred it when Amy joined him, smelling like her body wash. One of his favorite scents. He sat next to her at the island while she ate, and he listened while Amy talked about her empathy for Penny, how difficult it must be to want a baby so badly and have trouble conceiving. He nodded at what he hoped were the appropriate times, thinking that perhaps now was still not the time to point out, yet again, that it was probably the fault of Leonard's subpar sperm.
"Sheldon, have you been saving all the Doctor Whos we've missed?" she asked, putting her bowl in the dishwasher.
"Of course," Sheldon answered, relieved at the change in topic.
"Let's watch them."
Amy curled up next to him and surprised him by initiating a cuddle. Sheldon was baffled by this. He thought she would be furious with him, and, for once, he honestly thought he deserved her wrath. But instead she seemed to be in a good mood. Maybe it was the six hour nap. After the second episode, Amy paused it and asked his opinion of the new Doctor, whether or not it was good idea to make this incarnation a woman. It was a pleasant half-hour spent in discussion of Doctor Who mythology.
"Another episode or is it getting too late? It's eleven already," Sheldon asked, "well after our bed time."
"Actually . . ." Amy reached up to kiss him. When she turned her head and opened her mouth, her tongue brushing his lips, desire pulsed through him. And then she brought her hand to his ear and ran her fingertips delicately along the helix, and he felt his body shiver.
"Amy?" he asked after breaking the kiss for air. "Are you sure? Is it okay?"
"Yes. You know that." She took his hand and pulled him up, leading him to their bedroom.
"Um, I'll just get undressed in there," Sheldon said, dropping her hand and ducking into the walk-in closet. He brought his hand up to his chest. Pull yourself together! Babylon 5. Greek food. Babylon 5. Greek food. But he couldn't quiet himself. It had been far too long. Two and a half months, to be precise. And the last time was incomplete; Amy had asked to stop, she wasn't comfortable, and, even though she offered to finish him, the very idea of her not enjoying it had already killed the mood. But last week, Amy had laughed at something he said, and there was something in the way her neck arched . . . he had, shamefully, given into self-abuse.
Amy grinned at him when he came to bed. "Somebody is very, very excited, I see."
Sheldon blushed (why?) and crawled in next to her.
"Two things," Amy said, catching his arm as he reached for her. "I'm going to leave the nursing bra on because . . . well, I'm not sure what to do -" He nodded at her like a fool, thankful that he wouldn't have to worry about that blurry line between his lover and someone's mother. "- and remember what the doctor said, you'll probably feel the strings from the IUD."
He nodded again, even more crazed this time, wishing she would just stop talking and let him touch her. Or maybe, watching the way her lips moved when she spoke, she would put her lips on him - somewhere, anywhere!, soon! When he kissed her and she pressed up against him, he had to shift away because it was almost too much (what is wrong with me?).
"Sheldon? Are you okay?" Amy picked up his hand, which he noticed was trembling, and kissed his fingertips. "It's still me."
He nodded, but it didn't relieve the pounding aching he felt shooting up from his groin. He kissed her again, putting his palm on her stomach. Softer than I remember.
"Amy," he whispered.
Not able to help himself, unable to delay his desire, he traced his hand lower. Amy moaned softly when he touched her there. It felt different, too, than he remembered. I'm moving too fast. But this feels so good. "Ohhh, Amy."
Touching her there, everything clouded over in his mind and the lightening bolts became almost unbearable. "Amy, please, Amy . . ." he heard himself begging.
She understood him and pulled him toward her and Dear Lord! How I've missed this!, giving his mind over to the wonderful sensation that was Amy surrounding him. This, too, was different than he remembered, and, yes there was the odd sensation of a string somewhere, but, Jesus!, it was good. This is good, this is good, this good. But his next thought was torture to him when he realized Amy was not moving in time with him. I need to stop, I need to slow down, I need to ask her - Nononono, too soon! It was too late to stop, it was too late to slow down, it was to late to ask her what was wrong, and, even as his body cried out in release and pleasure, his mind filled with humiliation and remorse.
He rolled off of her with a groan and covered his face with his hands. This is why people curse. It was awful. It was the worst it had ever been. Even the first time, which was probably as fast and as awkward, he had somehow managed to save it by whispering his love for her. Curses! "Amy, I'm so sorry."
She didn't respond. He actually preferred this over anything he could imagine she might say. If she had said something condescending like "it's okay" or "it was fine," he would have screamed. Then he remembered something else that had happened - or, well, not happened. He put his hands down and rolled on his side to look at her. She was staring up at the ceiling.
"Amy, do you want me to -"
"No, thank you." She said it blandly, still looking at the ceiling.
Frak! It was even worse than he thought. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"
"I don't think anything is damaged." She reached over and turned out the light.
Frak, frak! Sheldon rolled away from her, clutching his side of the bed and wallowing in self-pity and shame. I am a horrible person. I don't deserve her. First, I ran away and left her alone with a sick baby. And then, after she immediately forgave me, I lose all self-control. He jerked when he felt her arm encircle his waist.
"Shhh, Sheldon," she whispered. "It will get better. Go to sleep. Twelve-thirty will be here too soon." She kissed his back, between his shoulder blades, and then rested her head there.
He reached up and brushed his oddly damp eye. How had she known? Then he lowered his hand and took hers, resting them both over his stomach. But he was still awake when the twelve-thirty feeding came.
The next day, his mind still in an embarrassed jumble, Sheldon found himself pacing outside of Howard's lab with no idea how he had got there. This is absurd. I should go back to my office and try to work again. Just as he had turned on his heel, Howard stuck his head out.
"Sheldon? Do you need something?"
"Nothing. Why would you think I need something?"
"Because I've seen you walk past my door at least four times."
Sheldon's shoulders dropped even further. He shrugged and entered Howard's lab, shutting the door behind him.
"So, what's up?" Howard asked.
"I need advise." Sheldon blew this statement out with a lot of air.
"Okay, sure. About what?"
"It's, um, personal." Sheldon looked down at his shoes.
"Did you ask Leonard? I thought personal was in his territory. I'm assigned driving, appliance repair, and explaining jokes. Raj has romance, homemaking, and anything else Martha Stewart might do."
Perspiring heavily, Sheldon didn't respond, still looking at his shoes. This is a bad idea. I shouldn't be here. I swore I'd never be here.
After a lengthy pause, Howard slapped the edge of one of his tables. "Oh, my God! This is about sex, isn't it?"
Sheldon looked up at his grinning friend, shooting daggers at him. "Howard, if you're going to mock me, I'm leaving."
"No, no, please just me savor this moment." Howard looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath in and then back out. "Okay, that felt good. My guess is no action since the baby. And, since the last time you even mentioned sex it sounded liked you two were auditioning for Deep Throat Part 2, you're worried."
"The informant in The X-Files?" Why are people always bringing up random bits of unrelated information around me?
"What? The X-Files? Oh, yeah. Never mind. Am I right, no hanky-panky makes Sheldon a very dull boy?" Howard asked, the grin still plastered to his face.
"Actually, no." Sheldon wondered if that should make him feel better, but it didn't. "It's just that it was . . . uh . . . not up to our usual standards."
"So it sucked? Or, wait!, is that it? It didn't suck?"
Sheldon threw up his hands and walked toward the door. This was a horrible idea! I should have stuck with my original promise never to discuss this! He turned around at the last minute, and narrowed his eyes at his friend. "You lied. You once said sex was like pizza and that even bad pizza is delicious. Well, it's not true!"
He had just opened the door, when Howard called, "Okay, okay, wait. I'm sorry. I'll be serious. I know this is hard for you. You could have looked this up, so you obviously want to talk about it."
Sheldon started. Was Howard right? Why didn't he look it up? Why did he come down here to Howard's lab? Did he want to talk about it with someone who had actually been through it? Sheldon turned back to look at Howard again but didn't step any closer, his hand still on the door knob.
Howard sighed. "I'll tell you something embarrassing about myself and you just nod if I'm right, okay?"
Sheldon nodded and shut the door.
"And I assume this won't be discussed outside this room?"
Sheldon nodded again.
"Okay, after Jacob was born and we finally did it again, Bernie cried because it hurt. And it took forever for me to figure out how to get her off again, it was liked it had moved or changed or something. I felt like a flunkee."
Feeling his face get hot, Sheldon nodded slowly. Close enough.
"Apparently it has to do with hormones. Lubricant helps. You can't have too much."
Sheldon nodded once more. Nodding was much safer than speaking. "Thank you," he mumbled and went to leave again.
"Actually, I have a question for you," Howard stopped him.
Turning around again, he asked, "What?"
"How is Amy?"
Sheldon's shoulders relaxed. "Quite well. Ada is sleeping six hours straight now after her twelve-thirty feeding, so we're both getting more sleep."
"Listen. I don't know how much Amy told you, but Bernie and I were in a really bad spot after Jacob was born. I beat myself up about it, I thought it was all my fault because I thought she only had a baby for me. Anyway," Howard took a deep breath, "Bernie was depressed. Like, for real. Postpartum depression. But we never realized it because we never talked. So, my best advice to you is not about sex. It's about Amy. Pay attention and talk to her."
"I talk to Amy all the time." Sheldon's heart thundered in his chest. Was something wrong with Amy? Was this Howard's way of telling him something? "Do you think Amy is depressed? Has Bernadette said something?"
"I didn't mean that. It's not my place to know these things. And, no, Bernie, hasn't said anything. Actually, she's jealous of Amy, I think. She talks about how well she seems to have adjusted. But . . ." Howard shrugged.
"But what?" Sheldon practically yelled, taking a step toward Howard.
His friend put up his hands. "Calm down. I'm not saying anything bad. I'm just trying to tell you what I learned. You came to me for advise, remember? Let me guess, when you and Amy talk, you talk about the baby? Even on your date nights?"
Sheldon thought. "Well, yes."
"And Amy is home alone all day with the baby?"
"She runs errands sometimes. She's gone out to lunch with Penny. And they had a Girls Night last week."
"With Ada?"
"Yes, with Ada. It seems to a social imperative for women to gather in groups and speak to infants in high-pitched voices."
"This is what I learned: women like Bernie and Amy, they don't do well stuck at home all day with a baby. Their brains aren't wired that way." Howard shrugged. "Maybe no woman's brain is wired that way. Even if Amy is happy and not depressed, she's still a very intelligent woman. She cannot live in a baby vacuum. It was one of the mistakes we made."
"I don't entirely understand." Sheldon took a few steps to stand right in front of Howard again. "Go on."
"Since Ada was born, have you ever had a conversation not about the baby or the house or food or sleep?"
"Yes. Last night we talked about Doctor Who." Aha! We are doing something better than Howard and Bernadette!
"So, just once?"
Sheldon cocked his head and thought. His pride deflated. "Yes."
"Did you and Amy fall in love talking about babies and sleep?"
"No, of course not." Suddenly it all became clear. And the one time we talked about Doctor Who, Amy wanted . . . "Oh, I see now. Do you think the two things are related? Sex and the baby vacuum?"
"Hmmm," Howard furrowed his brow. "Yes and no. The baby vacuum is about more than sex. And solving it won't turn you into Casanova. But they may overlap some. Seriously, go buy some lubricant. The biggest bottle you can find. And if that doesn't work, I'll take you this store where they sell this thing that . . ."
Then Howard told Sheldon the most pornographic thing he had ever heard. It was fascinating.
The next day, Sheldon walked over to the neuroscience division office and, after an entirely too lengthy and frustrating conversation, managed to pick up the issues of The Journal of Neuroscience and a couple of other journals that had arrived for Amy while she was on maternity leave. He took them home and thrilled at her squeal of delight and thank you kiss.
He looked down at her, her arms still around him. "I thought I'd take Ada to Retro Video Game Night tonight."
Amy raised her eyebrows. "To Leonard's? Shouldn't we ask Penny first?"
"Penny isn't going to be there. Some sort of movie thing. I didn't understand it."
"Really?"
"I'm perfectly capable of taking my daughter to a friend's house."
"Of course you are. But what will I do?"
Sheldon bent down to kiss her again. "Anything you want. Except cleaning or cooking. I expressly forbid that."
"You can't forbid me from doing anything," Amy huffed. It was exactly what he wanted to hear, and he smiled at her spark of defiance.
The next week, on their regularly scheduled Date Night, Sheldon proposed agreeing to not discuss Ada or anything domestic. Despite her obvious confusion, Amy agreed. The first five minutes were, admittedly, strained for topics, but then they fell into a pattern they had enjoyed for years. One of the articles that Amy was especially impressed with, Sheldon's work, the recently released schedule for Masterpiece Mystery, the story arc of the current season of Forever, and Comic-Con tickets.
That night, with some lubricant, it was much, much better.
AN: Thank you in advance for your reviews! (And, yes, I meant frak. I think if Sheldon ever really, really wants to curse, that's what it will be.)