The day starts well enough. I wake up with a dark head draped over my stomach and a mouth full of hair. I crane my neck to catch a glimpse of the clock. 9 A.M. Carefully removing the gleaming locks of dark brown hair out of my face, I carefully nudge my bed buddy, bracing myself for the probability that I am going to be bitten.

"Ames," I say tiredly, willing myself to wake up, "Amy, it's nine. We have to go pick up Bernadette in a half hour," I remind her, prying her arms from around my body and staring up at the gorgeous wedding dress hanging on the closet door. "Oh, Sweetie…you are going to be such a beautiful bride."

"With this body and that dress, I never doubted it," Amy answers, grinning as she wipes at her eyes and sits up. I stare around the room, biting my lip. It's been ten months since I lived in this apartment and slept in this bedroom. It certainly doesn't look like it did when I occupied it. For one thing, it's clean. (Still not a strong point of mine.) For another, it's decorated in an interesting mix of Star Wars memorabilia and Barbie collectibles. (Amy collects Barbies. Who knew? Problem is, Leonard's Luke Skywalker doll looks like it's trying to cop a feel on an elegantly dressed Barbie. Good for him.)

"What do you think the guys did last night?" Amy asks, referring to Leonard's 'bachelor party.' After the debacle that had been Howard's bachelor party last year, the four of them had decided to stay in.

"If I had to guess? They probably got Chinese food and played Legend of Zelda until they fell asleep after crashing from all the sugar they ate. I swear though, if Leonard let Sheldon drink that entire two liter of Mountain Dew, I may have to kill him," I mutter, wondering if I should go over and make sure they aren't all asleep on the floor, covered in the remains of their junk food induced video game binge.

Over the past ten months of living with Sheldon Cooper, I've learned some things about him:

One, he's still crazy. Yep. I'll have you know that Dr. Whack-A-Doodle woke me up at four in the morning recently to an "Emergency Preparedness Drill." During which, I was dragged from my bed and informed that we had been invaded by Canada. I very calmly informed him that I didn't care if we had been invaded by a secret race of Bigfoots, and that if he didn't get his ass back in bed, that I would physically put him there.

Two, Sheldon is a huge Mountain Dew fiend. It's like crack for him. Imagine a five year old hopped up on Mountain Dew. Now imagine if that five year old was six feet two inches tall and full of more energy than ten Chihuahuas. That's Sheldon on Mountain Dew.

Three, Sheldon gives a damn good back rub. Back when I was still all beat up from my car accident in August, I learned that when Sheldon sets his mind to something, he follows through thoroughly.

Which brings us here. Six months after my car accident, we're all still here.

I still say that the day I left Kurt was the best worst day of my life. If I hadn't left him, I never would have moved into 4B at the Los Robles Apartments and I never would have met the best friends I've ever known. If I hadn't left him, I wouldn't be a part of a successful T.V. show. That's right. Home Planet is the number one rated sci-fi program on NBS, which means, Emmy's here I come (even if I have to drag Dr. Whack-A-Doodle kicking and screaming)!

"Okay," I inform Amy, "I'm gonna run across the hall and grab my stuff so we can get going…" I grin at her, feeling a little excitement bubble in my stomach, "Amy, you're getting married today!"

"Yes, my mother is already beside herself with happiness," Amy tells me, getting out of bed and reaching for her robe. "She informed me that she'd given up hope of ever seeing me in a bridal gown before I started dating Leonard."

"What does your dad say about it?" I ask, realizing I know nothing about Amy's father. I'd never even met her mother before last night, when she got in from Fresno, where Amy grew up. Amy's doesn't miss a beat, pulling on her red plaid robe.

"I don't have a father. My mother had one wild night while on vacation in Cozumel, Mexico and I was the result," Amy explains unapologetically. "I suppose that's why she was so strict on me growing up…well, not to mention the rigid Catholic upbringing."

"So, that's why you're going to have your mother walk you down the aisle," I nod, suddenly understanding and feeling extremely lucky. I have both of my parents, and two siblings. Ames grew up all alone with a mother who was terrified of her daughter making the same mistakes that she had.

"If you're feeling sorry for me, Bestie, don't," Amy tells me sincerely, "I have never felt incomplete without the presence of a paternal figure in my life, because I have never had one. And, in all honesty, I don't regret that I've never had a father. Though my mother was overprotective and stifling at times, I have never lacked for love or affection from her."

"Jesus," I tell her, "your mother is the anti-Beverly." I am, of course referring to Leonard's mother, who was neither overprotective nor affectionate. I leave her to jump in the shower and head back over to Casa de Whack-A-Doodle to get my dress, which is hanging in my bedroom closet. As quietly as I can, I poke my head into the apartment, and groan at the sight of four sleeping overgrown ten year old boys. Leonard is curled into a tightly wound ball on the armchair. Stepping carefully over Raj and Howard, who are lying together in what could be considered an embrace, I glace over at Sheldor: The Tall and Lanky, sprawled over the couch…on his stomach with his arm hanging down onto the floor and gripping an empty two liter bottle of Mountain Dew. Flash is spread over the length of Sheldon's back (a lot longer than he was back in July).

Damn it.

Crouching beside the couch, I cautiously poke Sheldon in the shoulder and he instantly jolts awake, turning toward me like I'm an intruder.

"No, Missy! Not Mr. Fluffles!" He cries, coming out of some sort of goofy ass sugar induced dream.

"Mr. Fluffles?" I ask, raising an eyebrow at him and glancing down at the empty soda bottle.

"Mr. Fluffles was a stuffed rabbit that MeeMaw gave to me when I was born. Missy used to threaten to do obscene things to him such as set him on fire with our father's Zippo lighter or throwing him into the garbage disposal to get me to do her bidding. I can't tell you how many times I ended up sitting at a table surrounded by various dolls and animals with a ridiculous hat on my head because of her manipulations," He explains in that quick, rapid fire tumble of words he always speaks in while I try (unsuccessfully) not to laugh.

"Do you still have Mr. Fluffles?" I ask, prying the Mountain Dew bottle out of his hand and setting it aside.

"Of course," Sheldon answers as if I've asked if he still likes to wash his hands every three minutes. I don't care how crazy the goof is, he's damn adorable sometimes.

"Should we make sure your tux fits before the wedding?" I ask with a wink, unable to suppress the smirk at the memory of him splitting a shirt in half before Howard and Bernadette's wedding last year.

"Unnecessary," Sheldon answers, not realizing it was a joke. I know damn well the tux fits. I personally took him to pick it up yesterday and let me just say, I approve. Sheldon as someone's Best Man is kind of a frightening thought, but Leonard knew what he was getting into when he asked him five months ago.

"I was kidding, sweetheart," I tell him, patting his knee, "okay, I really have to go. Amy is probably getting out of the shower and we have to go pick up Bernadette." My eyes fall to Raj and Howard, who are both kind of smiling in their sleep. "And not tell her about this," I add under my breath, patting Sheldon's head and heading toward the bedroom. Sheldon is in the shower by the time I leave, so I pause, stooping to pat Leonard's head gently and wake him up.


"Hey, honey, just want to let you know, Amy and I are leaving and heading out to get Bernadette's so you're all clear," I tell him, pecking him on the cheek and leaving him to wake up as I retrieve his bride so we can go get her ready.

An hour later, me, Amy, Bernadette and Amy's mother are sitting on salon chairs with our hair being curled and fluffed. Amy is absolutely glowing with confidence while I am over here biting my freaking nails. I'm nervous enough for both Leonard and Amy and I don't know why. For some reason, I just have this gut feeling that something is going to happen today.

You know, besides the obvious thing where Leonard and Amy get married.

If this is how people feel on their wedding day, I'm going through the drive through chapel that's next door to Taco Bell so I can kill two birds with one stone. You know, get hitched and eat a burrito…plus they have Mountain Dew, so everybody wins.

"Mimosa?" A salon attendant asks, holding out a tray of flutes filled with delicious orangey boozey goodness.

"You bet," I nod, snatching one of the glasses and downing it, allowing myself to savor the warm tingling of the drink.

"Bestie, I can't help but notice you're slightly flushed. Are you feeling alright?" Amy asks, watching me closely underneath the pile of rollers on her head while a pedicurist works on her feet.

"It's just…it's all happening, isn't it?" I exclaim, glancing over at Bernadette, who seems to thoroughly be enjoying her foot bath.

"Sweetie, you're jumpier than Howie on the days he helps his mother wax her legs," she tells me, reaching over and patting my arm. "I'd hate to see you on your wedding day."

"Are you having doubts about your abilities as Maid of Honor?" Amy inquires, concerned as I shake my head.

"No! It's just…I mean, look at how different everything is!" I tell her, "At this time last year, you and Sheldon were making YouTube videos about flags, Howard was getting ready to go into space and Leonard and I were…well, we weren't really doing anything," I stop myself realizing that change is good. Where we all were a year ago wasn't where we were supposed to be. Once Amy and Leonard got together, everything seemed to fall into place including, you got it, me and Dr. Whack-A-Doodle. I never would have thought that less than a year later, we would all be paired off…well, most of us.

I'm still holding out hope for Raj, who is really trying to overcome his selective mutism.

"Amy," Ms. Fowler says, reaching into her purse and pulling out a box. "I got you a little something for today." She hands the box to her daughter, who carefully opens it. I strain a little, trying to see it.

"Mom, these are…" Amy trails off, pulling the object from the velvet box and producing a sparkling hair comb set with red stones.


"Amy, I have waited thirty-one years for this day," her mother tells her, "and I can't even tell you how relieved I am that you found Leonard. For a while, I was worried you wouldn't find anyone."

"Mom, I dated Sheldon for five months," Amy reminds her, glancing at me with half a grin. Ms. Fowler stares at Amy for a few moments.

"Again, for a while, I was worried you wouldn't find anyone," she reiterates, making Bernadette and I snort with laughter. I now see where Amy gets her dry humor from. Amy even snickers, reaching up and letting her mother hug her.

"Thanks, Mom. And I have something for you too," Amy reaches into her purse and pulls out a folded piece of paper.

"What's this, Amy?" Her mother asks, opening it and reading. "This is a confirmation email for an eHarmony account for," she looks up in horror, "me?"

"Yes," Amy nods, grinning impishly, "I made you an account. I want you to agree to go on at least one date per year."

"Amy!" Ms. Fowler cries, staring at the paper in horror. "I'm fifty-two years old!"

"Is your aversion actually to dating or to the fact that you are implying that you are too old?"

"Both!" Her mother cries. "I can't do this!"

"Mom," Amy explains calmly, "the divorce rate in America right now is nearly at fifty percent. There are plenty of fish that have been thrown back into the sea."

"Amy Farrah Fowler!"

"It's non-negotiable," Amy tells her, looking positively devilish, "One date a year or no grandchildren."

"You wouldn't…"

"Wouldn't I? You met Leonard's mother yesterday. You can see why he's terrified of being a parent. All it would take is a trip to his doctor for a little procedure we call a vasec—"

"Okay! One date per year!" Ms. Fowler cries, turning a bright shade of red. Amy gives me a look of unhidden triumph. I clap a hand over my mouth to muffle the giggle that escapes me as I accept another mimosa and relax back into the chair I'm sitting in.

We finally get to the hotel where Amy and Leonard are getting married, gathering in Amy's mother's room to finish getting ready. I help Amy into the gorgeous wedding dress she bought a few months ago, lacing up the back for her and settling the gorgeous satin of the train. The style is absolutely breathtaking on Amy's body, with lacy sleeves and a beaded bodice. For someone who has a penchant for pencil skirts and loafers, Amy found possibly the most beautiful wedding dress I've ever seen. With her hair pinned elegantly at the nape of her neck and the jeweled comb her mother bought for her pressed perfectly at the crown of her hair, we carefully arrange her veil over it and I tear up like she's my kid.

"Look at you!" I squeak hoarsely, grabbing her hand. "You're so gorgeous. Leonard is gonna die."

"I should hope not," Amy quips, "I've spent a thousand dollars on this bad boy already. I told Sheldon to make sure Leonard has his inhaler." All of us share a snicker, before I quickly throw on my navy blue bridesmaid dress (the second one I've bought in a year) and check my reflection.

It's time.

"Ready, Ames?" I ask, looking at my best friend and feeling my eyes burn even worse.

"Ready," she nods. I grab Bernadette and head down to the courtyard, where the ceremony is being held. I see Leonard immediately, and throw my arms around him.

"Penny!" He cries, laughing in surprise, "Are you guys…is everything okay?"

"I'm just so…happy for you," I insist, trying not to look over at Howard and Bernadette, who are doing that revolting nose rubbing thing they do. Leonard's arms tighten around my middle and we pull apart, beaming at each other. And I know that everything is going to be okay, because he looks so handsome and his bride is so breathtaking. And he deserves this.

The world could do with more men like Leonard Hofstadter.

"Thank you, Penny. How is she?" He asks me, referring to Amy. "Is she doing okay?"

"She's doing great. She actually manipulated her mother into dating again," I chuckle, patting his arm and scanning the hallway. "Where's Dr. Whack-A-Doodle."

"Oh, uh…" His eyes flit around nervously for a second as if he's looking for Sheldon, before coming back to me. "He's just doing a triple check on the hotel room he got for you two. You know, checking for dirt and germs and all that good stuff."

"Oh, God," I roll my eyes, "Please tell me he didn't bring that black light he's got."

"Not that I could tell…" Leonard tells me, sounding pretty unsure, "Listen, I have to go get ready, so I'll talk to you after the ceremony." He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Leonard!" I call after him, when he starts toward his family. He turns and glances back at me over his glasses, "Wait till you see her. She looks amazing."

"She's always beautiful," he grins, starting back toward his parents and scooping up his four year old niece, who is the flower girl.

"Uncle Leonard, can I have two pieces of cake today?"

"Sure, Annabelle," Leonard tells her, "You can have as much as you want."

"Leonard!" His sister cries, "Don't tell her that! She'll be up until Tuesday if she has more than one piece!"

Shaking my head, I laugh to myself and turn back toward the door, where Bernadette has appeared and is giving me the thumbs up that Amy's ready. A moment later, I notice Sheldon return from his O.C.D. room inspection flanked by Howard and Raj. They obviously don't see me or Bernadette, because they walk right past them. And, if I'm being perfectly honest, they all look like they've been up to something. When Leonard's mother says something to Sheldon, he jumps back about a foot as if he's afraid she's going to make out with him again. (Still one of the funniest damn things I've ever witnessed.)

"I'm getting a warm feeling spreading through my heart."

"That's the Del Taco."

"Speaking of warm feelings, come here. No, I'd rather have the busboy."

What, did they all sneak upstairs to play Age of Conan for an hour?

It doesn't really matter. They're all here now. Everyone that matters is here. I poke my head out and see Amy poised at the ready with her arm linked through Ms. Fowler's, before the wedding coordinator lines us all up and I end up behind little Annabelle, who is tiny and dark haired with eyes the color of cinnamon. She's a really well behaved little girl, but she looks as nervous as a pig about to be turned into bacon.

"Come on, Sweet Pea," the coordinator beckons as Bernadette starts down the aisle, "here's your basket. Remember how we did it yesterday? Drop the petals real pretty."

"I know how," Annabelle replies politely, in her tiny little girl voice, making me bite my lip to keep from smirking. She's about halfway down the aisle when I start out and notice the poor little girl is frozen in fear, staring around at all of the people watching her. Dropping the basket, she turns around and runs directly to me, burying her face in the skirt of my dress.

And I melt a little bit inside.

Stooping to her level, I take her little hand in mine and brush a stray dark curl out of her eyes.

"Together?" I ask, raising my eyebrows and smiling at her. I notice Leonard's sister standing worriedly at the side, ready to come and fetch her little girl. Annabelle finally nods.

"Okay," she says, gripping my palm as I stand back up and walk hand in hand with her all the way down the aisle, winking at Leonard before meeting Sheldon's eyes. He nods approvingly, also smiling a little. It's one of those moments we share, where I can tell the wheels of that giant brain of his are turning and I don't know what he's thinking, but he looks kind of like a little kid planning how to sneak a cookie.

That little girl clings to my hand for the rest of the wedding ceremony, which would be the most adorable thing I've ever seen if it wasn't for the look on Leonard's face when he sees Amy step through those doors with her mother. He looks like he's been struck dumb, like he couldn't think of anything to say if he tried.

I spend way too much time with these guys. I love it.

It's not until Leonard and Amy both have rings on their fingers that I realize we're all really grown up now. We're no longer just a bunch of young twenty-somethings hanging out and eating take-out. There's a very real possibility that we will all be sitting around that couch with a couple of living, screaming, puking kids in the near future. The little girl clutching my hand definitely makes me see that possibility. I mean, she's not my kid, but I guess I can kind of see myself with one if I squint my eyes. It's not like I want to have kids tomorrow. It's just that I'm admitting to myself that I could do it. And I think I just might be good at it. (Despite the fact that the thought of Sheldon being someone's parent is a frightening, terrifying thought.)

Leonard and Amy are now Dr. and Dr. Hofstadter, which is really strange to think of, as Amy is still in my mind, and will forever be, Amy Farrah Fowler to us. But now, she's Leonard's wife too.

The first surprise of the night comes in a five foot package that looks exactly like Bernadette. Bridget arrives at the reception, tired and more than a little forlorn as she sits in the corner, watching everyone else have a good time. I would go talk to her, but Raj beats me to it, and I watch in silent wonder as he asks Bridget to dance. Sober.

And she says yes.

"What are you grinning about?" Sheldon asks when I meet him at the bar and order myself a vodka and cranberry juice.

"Oh, just watching the universe fall back into place," I shrug casually, taking a sip of the drink, leaning back against the bar.

"Penny," he sighs, and I realize I'm about to get a lecture, "Once again, your faith in a belief about the universe having a plan for people is simply ludicrous. And furthermore—"

"Can it, MoonPie," I tell him, but I can't even make myself sound intimidate as I smile flirtatiously up at him. He doesn't answer, looking back at out at the dance floor (where Howard and Raj are performing the damn Cha-Cha Slide while Bernadette and Bridget giggle uncontrollably), and I notice his lips quirk upward just for a second.

He looks damn good in that tux. (One day at a time, Penny.)

His eyes scan the dance floor for a moment, before zeroing in on something. I am accosted with a violent wave of Déjà vu as I follow his gaze to the couple kissing in the corner of the room. And I feel a slow smile spread over my face as I reach down and find Sheldon's hand, pulling it into mine.

It's Leonard and Amy.

"So, you were right, you know," I tell him, squeezing his hand. He looks down at me expectantly.

"I usually am," he grins, blue eyes sparkling and making me smack him with my other hand. "What was I right about?"

"You're the guy," I admit, "I didn't know it at the time, but you're the guy."

"I knew," Sheldon informs me, looking back at Leonard and Amy.

"You did, didn't you?" I chuckle, gently nudging him in the ribs. Maybe I don't give him enough credit, but I believe him now.

"Penny, I want to go," he says with an air of finality. "I want to leave."

When he turns to look back at me, I can see in his face that something has changed. I can feel the air charged between us as I look back toward the door. Grabbing his arm, I let him lead me from the reception room, glancing back one last time at our friends. They probably won't even notice we're gone.

Sheldon and I are quiet the entire way up to our room on the fifth floor, holding hands. (We decided that it would be a hell of a lot easier than the last wedding escape we made.)

I wait for him to open the door, starting to pull the pins from my hair and feeling it fall around my shoulders in spiraling waves.

"Honey," I say, following him into the room, "I'm just gonna take a…" I trail off, stopping dead in front of the door, which Sheldon shuts behind me. This is not what I expected. There are vases of roses covering every flat surface and a bottle of what I'm pretty sure is actually sparkling cider (Man-Child, remember?) being chilled in a bucket near the bed, which is also covered with roses. Moving into the room, I step beside the bed and notice an envelope addressed to me sitting against the pillows. Taking the envelope into my hands, I open the unsealed flap and remove the folded piece of paper within.

Turn around.

Holy shit…is Sheldon coitusing with me right now?

"Sheldon, is this…what is this? Are you—" I turn around to look at him and drop the paper, barely noticing it flutter to the floor with hardly a sound as I sink to sit on the bed.

Sheldon is on one freaking knee in front of me.

"Oh my God," I whisper, feeling my eyes become about as wide as his were when he was hopped up on coffee when we made Penny Blossoms years ago.

"Penny," he begins, calm as ever (seriously, how does he keep his cool most of the time?), "When we visited Texas, last July, MeeMaw insisted I have this and, at the time, I thought it was a premature gesture, but she insisted that I would know when the 'time was right.'" He runs a hand through his hair, looking a little nervous, "I am unfamiliar with social protocol when it comes to these situations, but after extensive searching on the internet and taking into account that Leonard barely waited four months to propose to Amy Farrah Fowler, I can only assume that nine months is an acceptable length of time for two people to be dating before they—"

"Are you asking me to…to—"

"Penny," he sighs, giving me a wary glance, "I know it is in your nature to interrupt, but as my knee is going slightly numb, I'm going to ask that you don't." He reaches into the inside pocket of his coat and produces an antique looking ring box, popping open the latch and revealing a very delicate gold band with a small, but sparkling diamond set in it. "I took the liberty of borrowing one of your rings and having it resized to fit you as your hand is quite larger than MeeMaw's had been—"

"Yeah…I inherited Dad's hands and feet," I agree nervously, still staring at the ring, mesmerized.

"Penny, would you acquiesce to the possibility of becoming my—"

"Sheldon…" I tell him warningly, but I'm already crying.

"Right. English," He sighs, a little flustered, "Penny, will you marry me?"

"Sheldon," I say, sniffing and still staring at the damn ring, "if you follow this up with Bazinga, I will punch you in the throat."

"No Bazinga," he promises sincerely.

"Yes," I tell him, without hesitation, not waiting for him to put the ring on me as I fling myself forward into his arms, knocking us both to the floor.

"Penny!" He cries, as I pull myself up and reach back down for him, watching him pluck the ring out of its cushion in his trembling fingers as I hold out my hand for him. As I feel the cool metal of the ring settle at the base of my finger, I feel like some hole in my heart that I never knew existed, has disappeared and I'm finally complete. Like everything is how it's supposed to be.

"You're serious, right?" I ask again, admiring my finger, "No backsies."

"I'm quite serious, and if I don't call my mother to inform her of your acceptance by tomorrow morning, she'll probably hop on the next flight to Los Angeles and hunt us down," he confesses, making me laugh.

"We can call her later, right now I just want to relax and—"

"Penny, I'm ready."

"Ready for…what…?" I start, giving him a confused look as I reach for the sparkling cider.

"I am ready to partake in—" Sheldon stops himself, "I want to make love with you."

Make love? Somebody's been doing their homework.

"Tonight?" I ask, shocked and more than a little taken aback. By this point, he's lucky I haven't already ripped my clothes off and tackled him. It's been two years. Two years!

"I have no idea what I'm doing as I have never—"

"You're a fast learner," I assure him, turning toward him, and lacing our fingers together. Cupping his cheek with my other hand, I make him look into my eyes. "Trust me?"

"Always," he nods, swallowing hard.

"I love you," I promise him, rising up and resting my forehead against his.

"I love you," he returns, placing his hand on my cheek and allowing me to urge him down onto his back.

"Let me help," I tell him, unbuttoning his jacket and vest in one quick movement, pulling it aside as he begins to work on his shirt. I turn away to unzip my own dress and jump in shock when I feel Sheldon carefully pull the zipper down my back and urge the silky material off of my shoulders, falling in a smooth pool around my feet as I remove the rest of my clothes.

This is the only thing we haven't done yet, and I know we're ready. Sheldon is no longer the guy who's afraid to touch anyone else. (Just most people.) He knows what I like and how to please me in other ways. But I'm not an idiot. I know this is new for him and I am going to try and make it as easy as possible for him.

Lying with our heads on the pillows, we turn toward each other and his hand fall to rest on the curve of my hip. Without another word, I pull him toward me and press our lips together in a soft, sensual rhythm of caressing touches. When the kiss deepens and I feel the wet tip of his tongue, I'm not sure who makes the first move in my lusty, ecstatic haze, but I think it's him who pulls me flush against his hard, aroused body and making me breathe, making what sounds like a whimper.

I'm a freaking pile of mush, who am I kidding? (Don't judge me, I just got engaged here!)

Sheldon pulls away from my lips and buries his face into the crook of my neck, pressing chaste, feather soft kisses along the skin there, making me throw my head back and drag his weight completely onto my prone body.

Fast. Learner.

I can feel his throbbing deal against my thigh as he moves his attention to my breasts (which is another thing that I've found he enjoys), while his hand slips between my legs and he strokes that spot that makes my toes tingle and my head spin.

"No," I gasp, pulling him by the shoulders as he looks up at me, puzzled, "Come here." Taking his face into my hands, drawing his lips back to mine as I spread my legs and settle back into the pillows with Sheldon's hips resting between mine. I can feel his hardness against the wet opening of my body, but I don't urge him inside yet, wanting to drag out this blissful torture a little bit longer. As I grind my hips upward, I can feel his body clench and a groan leave him as he buries his face into my hair, while I soothingly stroke my hands over his back and down over his cute little butt, giving it a playful squeeze.

"Are you ready?" I ask, guiding him up to look down at me, holding himself up on his arms.

"Penny…" He pleads, which I've come to realize is Sheldonese for 'yes.'

"Okay…it's okay…" I assure him, reaching down between us and positioning him. "Just keep looking at me…I've got you, okay?" Wrapping my legs around his waist, I pull him slowly inside, gripping his shoulders as I clench my teeth while I hear him hiss through his teeth.

"I think you're mistaken," Sheldon tells me, wincing in pleasured agony, pausing in his invasion of my body, "I've got you."

"Compromise," I moan, arching upward and digging my heels into his backside, "We've got each other."

"Compromise accepted," he agrees, closing his eyes and I can feel his hips start to move a little tentatively, as if he's afraid to make a mistake. Leaning up, I rest my lips against his ear.

"Just like that…" I purr into his ear, flicking my tongue out lightly over his earlobe. "That's perfect."

"Penny, I can't…" He gasps, shaking, "I have to…"

"Go ahead," I assure him, stroking the back of his baby soft hair to comfort him, "Just let go." A moment later, his body shudders violently and he falls limply against me with his head against my bare chest, fighting for breath with one hand twined lovingly in my hair and the other resting over my hip.


"Hmm?" I say, almost drowsing already in satisfied exhaustion.

"I finally see the appeal of sexual intercourse," he confesses, making me laugh a little.

"Glad to be of service, Sweetie," I tell him, kissing his forehead and rising up on my elbows. "Now, let's crack open this bottle of sparkling cider and call your mother."

"Very well," he agrees, moving off of me and resting against my side, "but Penny?"

"Yeah, Sheldon?"

"Can we do it again?" He asks hopefully, making me grin as I reach over him for the bottle of cider.

"Definitely," I laugh, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips again.

The rest, as they say, is history.