The Relationship Amendment

The very first thing Sheldon Lee Cooper said to her after pulling back from the kiss he himself initiated was: "You're a vixen, Amy Farrah Fowler."

He leaned forward for another kiss, and this time she had the presence of mind to close her eyes. She knew she had to remind him of his self-imposed boundaries, but decided to indulge in one more "slutty Cuba Libre" flavored kiss before doing so.

His right hand slid from her cheek, down her neck, and reached her bosom. Her eyes shot open.

Amy had periodically invited him to second base even before their relationship was made official, but at the rate he was proceeding, he was going to hit a home run before the night was through.

She pushed him away. "This isn't like you. You're drunk. You should stop before you do something you regret."

"What's regrettable is that you're wasting time with jibber-jabber, when I could be reducing the quantity of layers covering your body to a more acceptable number, say, zero."

"Sheldon, you're suffering from alcohol intoxication, and, and—it's because you drunk too much, too many drinks…" she found herself blabbering, distracted by his roaming hands and the irresistible smell of baby powder he always wore. She shook her head and resolutely continued, "the end result being impaired judgement and disinhibition. It would be wise for you to reconsider your current course of action before…" Her words trailed off when he deftly slipped her sweater off and flung it aside.

Her jaw dropped. "How did you, when—?"

He grinned smugly. "I am a brilliant man with many talents."

She was about to agree but yelped in surprise when he deposited her tights behind the couch. With aggressive kisses, his heated lips joined his hands in their frantic exploration and she shrank back, trying a different approach. "Perhaps I should make you a hot beverage. Coffee specifically, as you are drunk—Sheldon, that is not Salt Lake City!"

She managed to push him off and jumped out of the couch, fleeing to the other side of the coffee table, poised to run. He lithely circled the table, breathing heavily, licking his lips. She had fantasized about him looking this predatory, but in her fantasies she was shrieking with delight instead of gulping nervously.

She shuffled away from him and found herself backed against a wall. She held up her hands in her most appeasing manner. "Slow down. You've always expressed aversion to physical contact, and you haven't made an exception of me."

He tilted his head thoughtfully. "But I let you hold my hand, I said your kiss was fascinating, and I became a snuggle-bunny for you."

She blinked. "You said the kiss was fascinating? Hoo…" She fanned herself with her hands, taking deep calming breaths. "That… that doesn't count."

"I don't understand," he whined. "You're the one who proposed on two separate occasions that we engage in coitus."

"Yes, and you rejected those proposals."

"That was because I'm afraid."

"I'm scared too, but I was willing to put that aside." She massaged her temples. Why was he making this so difficult for her? "But you're nothing if not a creature of habit, so you were unwilling to do the same. Why would you act differently now?"

While she was on her tirade, he stepped forward and caught her in his unexpectedly muscular arms. She stiffened, dearly hoping he wouldn't kiss her again. Or touch her ear.

Sheldon nuzzled against her, his nose tickling her perfumed pulse point. "Because I trust you. You're not going to remove my pants with the intent of embarrassing me like the kids from school did, or lecture me about how I'm not man enough like my father did, or ridicule me if I betray curiosity about sex like George or Missy did, or jest about how I'm incapable of engaging in coitus like Leonard, Raj, and Howard do, or imply that I'm uneducated in the basics of the birds and the bees like Penny does." He smiled blissfully at her. "You're different. With you, I'm safe."

She smiled back. "I'm glad you feel that way…" Her contented sigh was interrupted by a gasp when he pinned her against the wall. Taking her shirt collar between his teeth, he yanked it aside, tearing off the topmost button. He sucked her exposed collarbone. She pounded at his chest with fists as weak as her will to fight what she really wanted anyway.

He paused and gazed at her with innocent blue eyes. "Don't you want me Amy?"

She brushed her fingertips against his cheek. "Of course I do, you know that."

"Your most recent actions suggest otherwise."

"If we do this, you are going to hate me," she whispered, failing to blink back her tears. "I don't want you to hate me."

He gently kissed the drops as they fell. "I am literally incapable of hating you, despite your misguided assertion that yours is the superior field, or how you blasphemously dismiss Star Trek as cheap science fiction."

"But doing this is not in the Relationship Agreement."

"To hell with the Agreement."

She frowned. "That's not something Sheldon Cooper would say."

He grunted impatiently, snaking his arms around her waist. "I wrote that Agreement, I could just as easily rewrite it."

She continued squirming in his arms but stilled when his words echoed in her head.

Sheldon purred, "You're behaving now, good."

"Give me a moment." She ducked out of his embrace. Sitting in front of her computer, she started typing. He followed, moaning in protest, silenced only by her finger over his lips. "Let me do this. Then you can…"

He winked. "Do you?" Snickering, he took her finger in his mouth.

Not without some regret, she pulled it away. "Excuse me, I need my hands for this."

It wasn't easy with him incessantly nipping at her neck, but she eventually finished and presented the document to him. "Now Sheldon, I want you to read it carefully. Only if you agree, then sign at the bottom."

She was afraid he'd sign without reading but he inspected the document, nodding at certain points, then signed it. She added her signature before folding the document and slipping it in her skirt pocket.

He cocked his eyebrow suggestively. "Shall we relocate to your bedroom?"

She took his hand and started walking. "Sheldon?"


"Please be gentle with me."

"I'll try."

"Good lord!" Sheldon Lee Cooper sat up like a shot, hyperventilating and pawing the sheets to his body.

His bedmate shivered at the sudden nakedness of her smooth skin and looked at him with deceptively guileless green eyes, unfitting for such a dangerous temptress.

"Amy Farrah Fowler, what have you done to me?" He demanded. "I am a creature of higher intellect. I am not supposed to indulge my baser instincts. And now you have me living in sin!" The color drained from his face as he gaped in horror. "My mother will crucify me."

His head whipped back to her, his mouth twisting in a grimace. "That is, if I make it through the invasion of your body's pathogens and personal fluids. I need to shower, or better yet, to sterilize myself in a boiling vat."

Amy retrieved a portion of the blanket in an attempt to restore her modesty. "Sheldon, please calm down."

"Calm down, I—" He was interrupted by a folded piece of paper she waved at him. He smoothed it open, though he recognized the document. A part of him was still holding on to the delusional hope that it was not what he knew it was.

First Amendment to the Relationship Agreement

1) The Boyfriend shall take responsibility for the commencement of the sexual relationship between the parties.

2) The physical relationship shall be reciprocal, and the initiation of a session may be done by either party.

3) The Boyfriend shall make a formal exception for the Girlfriend with regards to aversion to physical contact.

There were a few more items, including the agreement by both parties to love all germs of the other party… Sheldon's eye twitched. "This is blackmail! You coerced me into signing this while my mental faculties were compromised with the ingestion of alcohol, and then manipulated me into compliance with the promise of... what we ended up doing…" he cleared his throat, then repeated helplessly: "This is blackmail!"

"No, it is not," Amy countered, sitting up to face him. He tried to ignore the scent of her perfume wafting from her warm body. "It was the most reasonable action that I could take under last night's circumstances. You have to agree that as a lady, I needed to take precautions to protect my honor before we engaged in hanky-panky. I attempted to negotiate with you best as I could. But if you want to talk crime, how you approached me last night was bordering on assault."

Sheldon stared at her wordlessly, wishing he could claim forgetfulness, but he had an eidetic memory and could very clearly remember pinning her down, kissing her where she had never been kissed before amidst her breathy protests, and fumbling with her many layers of clothing as she attempted to reason with him. He felt his face burning.

She peered at him, concerned. "Are you alright?" She scooted closer to put a gentle hand on his forehead, and before he could get away, she ended up halfway on his lap. She started a little when she felt… him, and he pushed her away before she could comment on the growing evidence of his continued tendency to sin. Thankfully, she pretended not to have felt anything.

He stood up to leave, covering his delicate bits with a pillow while gathering his clothing. "We'll talk about this later."

Her long, invitingly glossy hair rippled as she nodded. She curled back in bed, pulling the blanket tightly around her so that it hugged her curves.

He froze at the open door, before slamming it shut. "Satisfying one's boyfriend's physical needs is a basic duty of every girlfriend, how can you let me go in this condition?" He pointed down.

She regarded him silently before propping herself on one elbow and beckoning with a hand, in a reasonable attempt at a come-hither gesture. "Let me make you feel better, Cuddles."

He crossed the room, snatching the blanket off her and pulling it over their heads with a flourish as he joined her in bed.

Author's Notes: I had the idea of doing some Shamy family stories, dealing with cute, genius Homo Novus babies. But we all know before that could happen, they'd have to do deed. (Or they could do it clinically, but this was more fun to write about.) This featured Drunk!Sheldon/Sober!Amy, in an inverse of the Sober!Sheldon/Drunk!Amy already observed in the show. Especially fitting as my friend is convinced the first time for these two would definitely involve some inhibition-freeing alcohol, at least on Sheldon's part.