Disclaimers: The Big Bang Theory and its characters were created by Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady. I do not own, nor do I profit from TBBT or its characters. My first humble attempt with TBBT fan fiction is meant for entertainment purposes only. I do not own the various the other games, movies or TV shows I will reference throughout my story.

Warnings and Full Disclosure: This has not been beta read, so please forgive any errors/typos on my part. I will also try my hardest to keep our beloved Shamy as true to their characters as possible. However, in this story Amy and Sheldon will discover a new sexy side to the Shamy so some artistic license will be taken.

I have rated as "M" because there will be stronger language and adult themes in later chapters. If this is not your cup of tea or if such themes offend you, then you shouldn't read this.

The Montserrat Resurgence – a Shamy story

"Change is the essential process of all existence." -Spock

In the recent quarterly amendment for the relationship agreement drawn up entirely by Sheldon, he had added a new stipulation that twice a month the boyfriend and the girlfriend will enjoy a "private at home movie night" in their respective apartments. During the first half of the month, the movie choice would be Amy's but they would watch it in Sheldon's apartment. During the second half the month, it would be Sheldon's pick for the movie to be viewed in Amy's apartment.

It was to Sheldon, a perfectly logical arrangement.

Amy was indeed delighted with the addition, but she still felt it to be a bit stringent. Sheldon insisted that this was not his way, but rather the right way. She looked up into his face and was ready to calmly argue her points when she suddenly stopped herself. He was beaming at her with genuine eagerness while bouncing on his toes. Apparently, he was very pleased with himself for this latest amendment. Amy couldn't help but smile back. She quickly understood that this was Sheldon trying to be a good boyfriend in the only way he knew how.

The neurobiologist consistently had to remind herself that her physicist was not like other men, so attempting to reason with him like one would be a futile effort on her part. This is progress, she told herself. And if there was one thing Amy believed that love and science had in common, it was that even slow progression was still progression.

Sheldon deftly pulled out his notary stamp from his canvas messenger bag with a self-satisfied grin. Amy sighed while plucking a pen from Sheldon's desk. "One of these days I really will hire that attorney." She muttered under her breath while scribbling her initials to the amendment—in triplicate.

AFF

AFF

AFF

"La Femme Nikita?" Sheldon grimaced while examining the DVD cover. Amy was in Sheldon's kitchen, emptying a freshly popped bag of hot popcorn into a large red bowl. "Give it a try Sheldon; I think you'll enjoy it."

Sheldon didn't look convinced "… but it's in French."

Amy nodded with understanding "Yes, but there are subtitles." She walked over to him and he eagerly traded the DVD cover for the red bowl and immediately began snacking away. Amy grinned at his boyish enthusiasm while she sat down next to him and his spot.

"Leonard informed me when he saw the American version with Bridget Fonda that he was not impressed. Not that I put much stock into Leonard's movie reviews … or his experiential research." Sheldon said with a bit of a grumble.

Amy braced herself. She suspected he would give her a little push back with her movie choice. "Sheldon, trust me, the original French version is much better. Nikita was once a homeless drug addict and almost became a convicted felon, but instead of going to jail, she is given a second chance. She's given a new identity and trained as a top secret spy and assassin … in Paris! Come on, even you have to admit that sounds pretty darn exciting." She reached over to the bowl on Sheldon's lap and grabbed a handful of popcorn. "That story would even make a great comic book!" Amy couldn't believe she actually said that, but she supposed in her excitement to sell the movie to a dubious Sheldon she had to lay it on pretty thick.

Sheldon pondered for a moment. Amy wondered if he was going to put up more of a fight. It was her night to choose the movie after all. Finally after several seconds of silence, he gave a relenting nod. "Alright" he answered in a way that can only be described as pure Sheldon Cooper.

Amy smiled and sighed at the same time—a step forward.

She was pleased to find that Sheldon was enjoying the movie more than he thought he would, even with the subtitles. He had emptied the bowl of popcorn practically by himself. Now, he was lazily nibbling on a Red Vine. Amy sighed. She wanted so much to briefly taste those inviting lips, or at the very least nuzzle into the crook of his arm and wrap her arms around his waist. Amy quickly batted those thoughts away. She knew physical affection was not possible, Sheldon had seen to it. She assumed the severity of the relationship agreement was partially in response to their one and only cuddling session back when she was feeling especially vulnerable. Apparently, Sheldon did not want a repeat of that evening or anything further.

The juicy Newtonian apple that dangled from Sheldon's tree was strictly off limits.

Amy figured she would just have to settle for enjoying some of that candy herself. Amy's eyes searched the coffee table, but no Red Vines. She figured Sheldon had the box next to him on the side table. "Sheldon, I'd like one of those red chewy things please."

"Sorry Amy, last one." He answered through a chew, not even bothering to pull the long red rope from his mouth.

"Then rip it in half." She said matter-of-factly. His eyes broke from the screen and looked at her as though she had suddenly sprouted a second nose. "I don't think so."

Amy pouted—one step forward, two steps back.

As the night wore on, Amy's toes began to ache. Her shoes were starting to feel a little tight, so as quietly as she could she kicked off her loafers. As she nestled her feet under herself she unintentionally grazed Sheldon's right outer thigh. He squirmed away with the tiniest yelp, as through it had been a tarantula slinking up his leg. He quickly closed his knees together to avoid her touch. "Amy, we are not hippies!" He scolded.

She cocked an eyebrow up at him, "Sheldon, I barely touched …" He cut her off with a wave of his right as though he were wiping away what she just said from a white board. "Nor are we beatniks—kindly refrain from molesting my leg with your ardent little toes." Her jaw dropped a bit, was he serious? She thought perhaps she tickled him and decided to have a little fun. "You aren't scared of me … are you Dr. Cooper?" She giggled while wiggling them towards him. He recoiled, a slight twitch forming in his eye.

"Amy Farrah Fowler! In the time I have known you; I have yet to give you any strikes. However, do not assume that means I won't ever do it!" She studied his face, he was indeed very serious.

Stunned at his sincere discomfort, Amy slowly moved her feet back down to the floor while adjusting her eyeglasses. Sheldon heaved a heavy sigh of relief. "Now, put your shoes back on." He commanded in a much calmer tone, not bothering to look at her. His eyes were stern and fixed straight ahead. For a few tense seconds, she was tempted to defy him just to see how he would react. Amy quickly thought better of it and slipped both her feet back into her loafers at the same time. "Sorry" she muttered, her nose scrunched up at him as if he had swatted it. He said nothing in reply as he continued to burn a hole in the television with his glare.

She didn't know what to make of it. She was being playful; at least she thought she was. Amy was growing weary of waiting and wishing for the moment when the petulant man-child would evolve (or perhaps the better word in this case was devolve) and succumb to his fiery lust for her. But the question was did Sheldon even have anything in him remotely close to fiery lust? At this point she would have settled for a small blue flame of curiosity.

While watching Nikita roll across a Parisian street with a gun between her hands, Amy began to sulk. A deluge of questions rippled through her. Does he sense how much I want him? Is he even attracted to me? Will Sheldon ever make a move? Amy shoulders felt heavy as she began to understand that would probably never happen and she internally chastised herself for wanting him so much.

Sheldon Cooper was not and could not be a sexual being. He had been trying, in his own way, to make her happy. However, he maintained that theirs was a relationship of the mind. Maybe Sheldon Cooper really wasn't boyfriend material? Or maybe she wasn't his idea of girlfriend material?

Amy suddenly felt him shift and sensed movement behind her. What happened next was the last thing she expected. Amy's hands tightened into fists in her lap as she experienced the foreign sensation of Sheldon's long fingers stroking the length of her hair, following the silky strands down her back. It was just a few gentle strokes but she shuddered quietly when his removed his hand. Keeping her eyes forward, Amy suddenly felt exposed, as if he had heard everything she was just thinking.

"I am enjoying the movie Amy." His tone was no longer patronizing or snide, but, there was a touch of the Texan in his voice that made Amy's stomach somersault.

"I am glad to hear it Sheldon." It was all she able to squeak out, her throat had suddenly gone dry. They sat in silence for the rest of the movie. Sheldon remaining calm and still, while Amy's toes squirmed in her shoes.

On her way home that night, Amy thought about what had transpired. She learned being too casual with him or "loosie goosie" as Sheldon called it would possibly earn her a strike. Although she had no clue what that might entail. If she didn't already know better, a strike from Sheldon almost sounded … promising.

Stop it, Fowler! She scolded herself. Get your mind out of the gutter!

Amy tried to compose herself while headed towards her front door. However, her mind began to float away again once she was inside her apartment, finally freeing her feet from those pinching loafers.

He did touch me. Without our negotiating, without my pleading … Sheldon touched me.

The neurobiologist prepared for bed in her usual fashion. First of cup of tea while she checked her e-mail one last time, then she laid out her clothes for the next day. Now clad in her red plaid pajamas she snuggled under her comforter, reliving Sheldon's touch over and over. It may have been brief, but it was intimate and tender. And most importantly, it was his choice.

Amy was thoroughly flummoxed, but once again she dared to hope while she drifted off to sleep.

There it is, chapter one of my first TBBT fan fiction.

Chapter 2 in the works. LONG LIVE THE SHAMY!