As with my 1st fanfic, I'd like to thank my Beta, hazelra7, for kindly proofreading and critiquing this story.

The Girls Night Aftermath.

Leaning forward on the couch, Amy planted a brief but firm kiss on Sheldon's lips. Leaning back again, she waited for Sheldon's response.

Sheldon paused in brief contemplation, before responding "fascinating".

Amy's stomach was doing back flips, and not just because of the kiss.

She spoke, "I hope you don't take what I'm about to do as a comment on what we just did", then she stood up, straightened her skirt and quickly made her way to the bathroom, to vomit violently.

Around 40 minutes later, as she emptied her stomach of the last of the vodka, her head began to spin, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As daylight began to stream through the bedroom window, Amy struggled to focus her eyes.

Something didn't seem right. She reached out to the bedside cabinet, found her spectacles and put them on.

It was then she realized, she wasn't alone. On the chair, in the corner of her bedroom, sat a man.

"Oh my God" she thought, "please tell me I haven't invited a strange man back to my home".

As panic threatened to overtake her, the man awoke, looked at her, and rose from the chair.

Sheldon said "Good morning Amy".

Holding her head, she replied "It most assuredly is not".

As she sat up, she realized she was no longer dressed in her skirt, shirt and cardigan. Instead, she was wearing her full-length nightgown, and nothing else.

She gave Sheldon an accusing stare, "How do I come to be dressed in my nightgown?"

"Well" began Sheldon, "you were in no state to take care of yourself, so I put you to bed".

Staring in disbelief, she asked, "And you undressed me too?"

"Of course" he replied. "It's not good for the circulation, to sleep in restrictive clothing. Besides, your cardigan was covered in vomit".

Amy was horrified. "I vomited in front of you?"

With a look of disdain, tempered with sympathy, he replied "Quite a few times actually, over a period of about 40 minutes. Then you passed out on the bathroom floor".

"By the way" he said, almost as an afterthought, "Why was there a Korean man's business card in your bra?"

The image of Sheldon, removing her bra, flashed through her mind, followed immediately, by a similar image of him removing her panties.

Amy was more than horrified. This would easily qualify as mortified.

Amy didn't even want to imagine, what she herself may have done, while under the influence of alcohol.

Slowly swinging her legs out of the bed, she made an attempt at standing. The result of the attempt was that her head began to swim, and she felt nauseous.

She looked across at Sheldon, took a deep breath and asked "Could you please help me to the bathroom?"

Always the gentleman, he took her hand, led her out through the bedroom door, and into the bathroom.

"By the way" she asked, "apart from vomiting and passing out, did I do anything else, after we got back here?"

"Nothing much" he replied. Amy felt a wave of relief pass over her.

"Oh, apart from" he continued, "you kissing me".

"Oh God Sheldon, I'm so sorry".

With a casual wave of his hand, he replied "Think nothing of it." He hesitated, unsure if he had the nerve to continue.

Seconds passed, as his mind fought to make a decision, then, having dragged up every ounce of courage he could muster, he went on, "It was very enjoyable actually".

Amy stood still, rooted to the spot.

Had she heard him right? Surely he hadn't said it? It must have been the alcohol and the headache. But no, she was sure he'd said it.

Turning slowly to look at him, she took a deep breath and asked "What did you just say?"

He stood there, not moving an inch. His mind raced. He thought "Why did I have to go and say that?"

He didn't need to repeat it. The look on his face told her everything she needed to know.

Amy smiled at him, her heart felt like it had doubled in size.

"Oh Sheldon" she breathed, "I never dreamt you felt like that about me".

Truth be told, she was lying. She'd often dreamt it, but never dared think it might be true.

He began backpedaling "Erm, well no, I, erm, what I meant was …"

His protestations faded to nothing. He was beginning to realize, there was no way he could take it back. He'd just admitted he enjoyed kissing Amy Farrah Fowler.

From anyone else, such a confession would have been of minor importance, a throw away comment even.

From Sheldon Cooper, with his buttoned down, pigeon-holed, precisely regulated, infinitely controlled life, it was tantamount to a declaration of undying love.

He looked even paler than usual, and became unsteady on his feet. He was breathing fast and hard.

Amy recognized the signs, he was hyperventilating. Any minute now, he could pass out.

Taking him by the arm, she led him to the hand basin. "Here" she said, "put some cold water on your face, and try to calm down".

-o-o-o-o-

Amy had been sitting in silence for nearly thirty minutes, watching as his breathing gradually returned to normal, and the color, what there was of it, returned to his cheeks.

Finally she asked "How are you feeling?"

Sheldon looked sheepish, "I'm sorry. I feel such a fool".

"Think nothing of it" she reassured him, "emotions affect people in different ways".

"However" she went on, "there is something I feel we must face up to, namely that there is an emotional and physical attraction between us".

He looked uncomfortable, but she was determined to thrash this out, come what may.

Trying to keep her words as clinical as possible, so as not to overly frighten him, she continued, "Sheldon, I can't deny it, I am physically attracted to you, and, please be honest with me, you are attracted to me too, aren't you?".

Sheldon looked frightened, indeed almost ashamed. Staring down at his fingers, interlocked and clenched, as though he were praying for his life, he took a breath, then another one, before admitting, almost in a whisper, "It's true. I've been attracted to you since the first time I met you, in the coffee shop".

Falteringly, he went on, "If you only knew how often I've wanted to touch your hair, and your cheek".

Amy realized that Sheldon was an enigma. On the one hand, he could completely undress an unconscious woman, and put her to bed, yet he was frightened of touching the cheek of a conscious one.

She could sort of understand it. Undressing her, and putting her to bed, was an act of kindness, performed by a gentleman, but what Sheldon was confessing he had been wanting to do, that was an emotional and sensual act. It meant giving over control to his emotions, and Sheldon wasn't comfortable with that.

Amy looked at his innocent, child-like face. He looked as though he was about to cry. She herself wasn't far behind. All this was new to her as well.

Fighting to control her own pounding heart, she reached across and took hold of his clenched interlocked hands. Gently separating them, she very slowly lifted his right hand to her face, placed it palm down against her left cheek, and moving it just a couple of inches up and down, stroked her face with it.

Very gently, she released her grip on his hand. To her amazement and delight, Sheldon continued to stroke her cheek.

The stoking became less robotic, less linear. His body trembling, he began stroking in a circular motion, his fingers barely touching the surface of her skin.

He became a little more adventurous, moving his hand toward her ear, his little finger slipping under the lobe, stroking the skin behind it.

Amy was quivering. His touch was the most erotic, sensual thing she'd ever experienced.

He moved his hand back toward her cheek, his little finger tugging gently at her earlobe, as it was drawn clear.

Sheldon was gaining confidence. He raised his other hand to her right cheek, held both hands on her cheeks for a few seconds, then slid them both backward into her hair.

He'd dreamed of touching her hair, her silky, long, beautiful hair, and now he was not just touching it, but it was intertwined between his fingers.

Amy took in a deep breath, stared into Sheldon's cobalt blue eyes, then, ever so slowly, raised her right hand and placed it on his left cheek.

Sheldon's whole body shuddered, but he didn't flinch back.

Amy could tell from his facial expression, that his mind was fighting a battle, a battle between allowing himself to be touched, and pulling away.

Judging by his expression, it was a Battle Royale, but then, a smile began to appear.

The tension in his face receded a little, his shuddering subsided.

He'd fought his demons and, joy of joys, he'd won.