A sweet treat for the first meeting of Shamy anniversary, The Annual Fluff Crawlspace (correct me if I'm wrong!), started by a fellow writer nerdforestgirl. This is my first one!

The Sterilization Obligation

Sheldon roamed his eyes across the painfully well-lit lobby. The smell of isopropyl alcohol tingled the tip of his nose, causing him to unconsciously reach for his travel VapoRub to, at the very least, trick his brain through olfactory manipulation. Worked fine.

The bustle and hustle of staff and patients alike were down to a minimum—an uncharacteristic component for this franchise. Or maybe it was just from the time of the day. Oh, well, who's he to assume? He's just here to be treated.

He's been here not too long ago, and since the last visit, the chills he felt running through his body was tantamount that of the previous one. That last time, he felt multitudes of feelings—excitement, agitation, euphoria, and quite frankly, a little light-headedness.

That instance was just two and a half months ago. When they found out that they will be parents once again—for the third time. Never in his life, he deemed the phrase "third time's a charm" to be so repressive in its very nature. It never was. It's a delight to do a deed in three's, but the kind of three's they carried out was over-the-top presumptuous.

It hit him hard… brutally and unpleasantly hard. Emotionally, mentally, and if fainting in that very moment would be considered as physically, then yes, it knocked him hard physically. Might be right on his groin.

In all honesty, he vaguely remembered that very appointment they had. It was hazy and a little frightening on his side, much so as her's. He was just accompanying Amy, like any other husband would do, who decided to have a check-up for a supposed stomach flu she's been experiencing for days. They believe that it was either from the new restaurant they checked out for date night or from the watering hole the girls always hang out to for girls' night. Poor Amy.

Unbeknownst to them, Amy was a little over a month pregnant at that time, and her symptoms were that of her pregnancy. Sheldon was unhinged for letting his wife out for a night of booze and gossips five days before her appointment that led them to detect their pregnancy but was appeased when he was told that Amy wasn't able to go past the first sip of wine when she already felt nauseated.

Like Elliot, their second child, this conception wasn't intentional either.

It took him back to their anniversary weekend. They were celebrating their fifth wedding anniversary. It was the first holiday they got as a couple since having children and the second anniversary holiday they celebrated in total. Of course, Amy would like to experience a few days off—as an accomplished neurobiologist and a mom—once in a while and for Sheldon, as uncharacteristic as it sounded, he needed it, too.

They've waited for too long for this to happen.

The one-year anniversary they had served as a dual purpose: to obviously celebrate the aforementioned occasion, and, at the same time, go on a babymoon. Amy was four, going five, months pregnant and appealed that they go to the beach. The ever-so-sympathetic Sheldon certainly would opt to what his wife wanted; she's carrying their progeny, for goodness' sake. That prompted them to take an overnight stay at Catalina seeing that Amy wanted to get some sun on her protruding belly.

Their second anniversary was celebrated at home with their firstborn, Isaac, with a heap of teething toys to soothe the six-month-old. No dinner date, no intimate time. Just plain old day surrounded with breastmilk for Isaac, Legos for Sheldon, and yogurt for Amy.

Their fourth was spent by being unfortunately separated to each other—Sheldon being at the hospital to tend to a sick and dehydrated Isaac and Amy being at home and can't be away from Elliot who was just three months old.

Clearly, 'no fun' was the theme of both the celebration.

Their third one was commemorated at Disneyland. At least that one was a bit fun. Since Isaac was the only child at that time, they opted to celebrate not too far from home, in case they got caught in a snag and something arises. The Disneyland visit was even a spontaneous one; what they had in mind at that very moment was a celebration of the new addition to the family that was Elliot. The knowledge of their anniversary eluded them right until the end of the Disneyland visit when they were driving up to Pasadena, a day before their actual anniversary.

Now, their fifth anniversary took place just four months ago. They sent the kids off to Amy's parents in Thousand Oaks and went on to have four days of vacation just the two of them.

A well-deserved break. They repeatedly pacified one other amidst the apprehension about leaving their kids.

After one heated intellectual debate between the two, Amy came out as the victor and was tasked to choose the spot. She opted for them to stay at Lake Tahoe—a serene vacation spot where you don't have to think about your kids since there were barely any of them in there. Sheldon really wanted Disneyland again, but, as painful as the reality, it gets a little bit flat through the years of extended visits.

Four days and three nights of fun-filled by-the-lake experience, a drive-by through the alpines and neighboring towns, steamy late night sex, and restful sleep away from any distractions.

However, one thing led to another, and now, Amy's pregnant. It was certainly thrilling considering that his boys were a joy as infants, more so now that they're toddlers, but the idea of having another child struck fear into them. Not because they detest the idea of having another child, but because of the lack of resources and area to accommodate two adults and three tiny people. Now, his prediction has come to life: they are officially outnumbered!

Now, as the man of the family, he has to do his end of the bargain. It took copious amounts of contemplating and persuading on his side to finally do it. It was definitely for the sake of their own level-headedness and sensibility.

Amy, for the life of her, could not fathom when, where, and why he decided to have this done. Maybe from the guys pressuring him. But he's not one to be persuaded easily, especially not by his friends. Maybe from predicting and calculating Amy's supposed menopause. An acceptable motivation considering she still has a handful of years ahead of her before the factory decides to not yield anymore. Maybe Sheldon's content with the slew of children they already have.

His argumentation was definitely justifiable.

Surprisingly, Amy was in no way reluctant for Sheldon to have this done. She was game through and through for him to join the club infertile men and get his tubes snipped.

"Here you go… I brought you hot cocoa," Amy offered. Smiling at her husband, she plonked down beside Sheldon in the waiting room.

"I can't drink anything, except for my medicine, at least an hour before the procedure," Sheldon said, still looking pale seeing that he'd been out of the car for a while which, he said, caused him to be a bit car sick.

"Aww," she cooed, "You know I brought my insulated tumbler; it'll keep it hot." She retrieved a travel-sized flask from her shoulder bag and waved it in from of him.

"Thanks," he meekly replied. He watched Amy transfer the rich deep brown concoction from one cup to another. Steam coming off of it, obstructing Amy's glasses with moisture.

After fixating over the spectacle, he diverted his attention forward. His cryptic stare that traversed across the room was blank as the day he left Texas. He deliberately chewed on his lips, producing a faint squeaky noise from the friction. The nerves were slowly succumbing him, and it'll only be seconds until he bursts forth.

"Are you alright?" Amy whispered as she lay a hand on his neck. He was dragged back to reality by her fondness.

She glanced down and noticed how his legs were uncontrollably bouncing up and down in rapid succession. Along with the shaking, his fingers were trailing faint lines against his soft pants.

"A little queasy…" he answered, showing Amy that he really was when she grabbed a hold of his hand.

"Oh, your hand is cold," Amy slightly jerked, unexpecting his hand to be that frigid, but she immediately returned his touch. Sheldon's just nervous, keep him occupied, Amy.

"Keep them warm…" he implored with his begging eyes. He nudged both hands to hers, and Amy's inclination to receive them was unwavering. Amy's warmth goes a long way that he felt it surging through his body, keeping it grounded in return.

Amy just kept caressing his hand and throwing him a few, quick glances to see where his mind's at. She felt bothered a little at how Sheldon was displaying himself. Not be dominating in their relationship, she didn't force him to inflict this upon himself; he just came up to her one day, explained that he had a vasectomy appointment coming up and that she should accompany her.

Who was she to refuse her husband's begging?

Breaking away from her unnerving thoughts, she came back to her husband. "So does that mean that you'll allow me inside?" she teased, trying to ease the mood.

"Who told you that you can't accompany me?" His brows wrinkled in confusion.

"Well… I only guessed it since you'll be in a sterilized room," Amy assumed as she held Sheldon's hands tighter.

"Of course, you'll be in there. You have to support me, Amy!" Sheldon insisted. The craving for her presence, to be with him, to support him, manifested in his voice. "You vowed to be with me in sickness and in health," he reminded his wife about the portion in their vows.

Amy, upon realizing her promise, reasoned out, "Does getting a vasectomy makes you sick?"

Sheldon's mouth grew open and showed her a disbelief look. "You know that I'll be rendered feeble for at least a week, remember?"

"Oh, right, and that makes you sick," Amy air quoted sick to highlight his remorse.

Before he could come up with a response, a woman wearing purple scrubs came out of the adjacent room and called out his name, "Sheldon Cooper?"

"That's me," he whispered to Amy. He rose up while holding Amy's hand, never bothered to let it go. "Can my wife accompany me?" Sheldon asked. Perhaps, she'll be allowed to observe and take him off the edge of his pre-op jitters.

"Sure! Sure!" she cordially agreed before following up, "Come inside, you two."

Ushering them to the room, the woman then continued, "Please strip all of your clothes and wear this hospital gown, opening to the back, Sir," she pointed at the folded garment laid on the bed, "Then put this white sheet on your lap as you sit down on the bed. Dr. Wilson will be right here shortly."

"And oh, the missus needs to wear this," she prattled as she handed a blue, plastic gown to Amy, almost forgetting about her outfit.

The woman moved out of the room and left Sheldon and Amy by themselves. Amy smoothly wore the gown over her day clothes and secured a knot around the neck area. She, then, deliberately tied her shoulder-length hair up on cue, like what she was always told to do whenever they have a laboratory session.

While doing so, Sheldon turned his back to Amy and lifted his sweater first.

Amy lightly chuckled at Sheldon's apprehension towards his body. You'd think that after having two children and another one en route, and countless times they've witnessed each other stripped naked - intentional or not, it's only now that he'd thought to be decent and cover his precious parts.

"Why are you laughing?" Sheldon asked broodingly, pouting his lips even though Amy wasn't looking. Maybe it'll swell her up with guilt by making fun of him.

"Why are hiding your body from me?" Amy softly threw out a question, instead. She resents it whenever Sheldon feels dejected, and at that very moment, it reflected through his voice and body language.

"I'm humiliated, Amy" he answered as he slipped on his gown to his half-naked body. Although she couldn't discern her husband's face, she got the idea of his embarrassment by his slumped shoulders and sluggish movements.

Mindlessly, Sheldon set out to untie the drawstring of his sweatpants when she pointed out jokingly, "You know, I can see your tushie." It got a massive reaction from Sheldon.

He pivoted rapidly, eyes wide open, as though he'd seen unspeakable things. "Amy!" he chided scandalously, drawing his left arm across his chest and right arm just right on his abdomen.

"I'm kidding, babe!" she soothed as she approached him. Laying her palm on his chest, gazing right through his eyes.

"I'm here, a puddle of nerves, and then that's how you treat me," he sulked, still shoulders slumped.

"You know, it's gonna be fine, right?" she assured him, keeping the warmth of their relationship transcended through her touch.

"I keep repeating that to myself."

"Because it will be," she affirmed confidently, flattening out the cloth across his broad shoulders.

He breathed deeply and even it out with a heavy sigh. Clasping the strings of his pants, he continued to undo his trousers. Removing and folding it neatly, he then set to pull down his briefs.

"Amy, the Valium might have worn off," he explained, ill at ease. He sought her forearm and Amy took the hint.

"They'll be giving you a shot of Demerol. Don't worry," Amy assured by giving him a thoughtful look as she caressed his hair. She took a step back to let him compose himself. He took a deep breath, grabbed the white sheet, and proceeded to sit at the foot of the bed with the sheet on his lap.

Not long before he sat, a knock came through the door, and a middle-aged man entered the room with an assistant in tow.

"Sheldon, how you doing today?" Dr. Wilson greeted kindly as he entered with a clipboard in hand.

"I'm doing fine," he modestly replied, offering the doctor a small smile as he smoothed the sheet on his lap.

"Oh, you must be Amy." The doctor diverted his gaze from Sheldon to his companion. He offered his hand. "I'm Dr. Hunter Wilson, I'll be performing Sheldon's vasectomy."

"Yes, hi. I can stay here, can't I?" Amy accepted his hand and inquired.

"No problem at all. You can just sit there and observe," he said while pointing out a lone bench on the side of the room.

"Thanks."

"Um, Sheldon, why don't you stand, face the bed, and slightly lean on your stomach, we'll give you some pain reliever."

Sheldon obeyed and leaned forward, letting the woman do what she was tasked to do. Amy, on the other hand, observed as Sheldon flashed her a slightly pleading look before tightly shutting his eyes.

The doctor went on and on about signing the waiver, the precautions, the dos and don'ts - none of which he comprehended easily because of the fact that he was being injected by something chilly and numbing into his spine, and his eyes were tightly shut from the discomfort. The woman sure took her precious time with that needle seeing that when she finished, everyone was just waiting for him to open his eyes and talk.

Laying down on the bed, his lower half was exposed, and he can feel the breeze from the air conditioning unit hitting him in places that never felt this chill before.

Amy had a look of worry on her. She asked the doctor, "Is he asleep?" when she noticed that his eyes were closed, but his eyelashes were fluttering.

"The medication shouldn't be that powerful to make him unconscious," he said as he wore his blue gloves. "Sheldon, are you awake?" Dr. Wilson asked, glancing at his patient.

"Yes…" he replied with an unfaltering voice. Definitely not asleep.

"Good. Just keep him occupied, Amy. We don't want him rolling off the bed," Dr. Wilson good-naturedly joked.

"Ouch… owie…" Sheldon cried in pain as he sat down at the passenger seat. It must have been really painful because Amy was doing most of the work for him to sit down, and the fact that he was doing was genuine at best.

"Just ice it, okay?" Amy consoled. "And don't move too much." She grabbed the seatbelt and fastened him in. All the while, Sheldon has a subtle look on his face that suggested his discomfort.

Amy closed the passenger door carefully, as not to startle her husband, and rounded to the other side of the car. Thinking about the bold step her husband had taken, she was grateful for him. Always. Even if he's sterile now.

She entered the car, started it, and fastened her own seatbelt. Before driving out of the parking lot, she diverted her attention to Sheldon who had his eyes shut.

"All good?" she made sure, running a hand on his neck and chest.

"I would be lying if I said yes." Sheldon gave her an apologetic smile and grin weakly at his wife. "I wouldn't be the man I used to be," he said philosophically, gazing at her eyes.

Amy let out a small chuckle. "Of course, you are," she assured.

"My body will absorb my sperm," he realized.

"That's what's supposed to happen, Sheldon."

"I'm aware of that."

"You know, there wouldn't be any physical change at all. It's just that in three months or after 15 to 20 ejaculation, there will be no more sperm in your semen," Amy made clear.

After Amy said that, it took a while before Sheldon reacted. He then grinned playfully and began to chuckle like a little girl. "I'm wearing a jockstrap!"

Amy giggled with him. "Is this the first time?"

The very notion of him wearing a jockstrap was overwhelmed by his display of pain and discomfort that stemmed from his procedure.

Sheldon took awhile to answer, browsing through his memories, "Yes." He giggled once more. "I've never been this hairless before since I got that full pubis of hair," he joked, snorting at his quip.

Amy let out a kindhearted laugh. "I've never seen you that hairless before, either."

"Can I have my hot cocoa…" he pleaded out of the blue, almost shifting his demeanor in an instant. Amy was cognizant of the uncertainty of his attitude. He's been in painkiller for a while now and, no doubt, he'll be in for the next few days.

Obeying, she retrieved the flask from her bag and passed it to an anticipating Sheldon. He took a sip and moaned, "Hmm… warm."

Amy beamed at him as she pulled out of the parking space. Sighing contently, she made him aware, "Things I do for you, Sheldon Lee Cooper," while leering at him lovingly.

With a confused look, he responded, "Shouldn't I be the one saying that?"

Upon realizing, Amy surrendered, "Oh, you're right. Go ahead."

He breathed out with a fulfilled sensation. "Things I do for you, Amy Farrah Fowler." He clutched her thigh softly. "You Vixen."