"Amy, will you be strong enough to bathe yourself, or do you need my help?" – During S6E10 the Fish Guts Displacement, Sheldon helps his sick girlfriend take a bath. What happened behind closed doors? Sort of canon. Rated M.

Sheldon tested the water with his wrist. There was no telling how hot or cold the water was. He sighed in exasperation. What kind of person doesn't have a baththermometer?

"Amy, will you be strong enough to bathe yourself, or do you need my help?" he called out. Maybe Bernadette would step up and help her bathe instead, he hoped.

He did not need another VapoRub incident.

He closed his eyes and breathed in and out deeply. Just the thought of her bare chest, with the swell of her breasts just visible under her nightgown, her heart hammering against her ribcage and her shallow breathing, caused his blood to rush south again.

Amy entered the bathroom, her hand already loosening the buttons of her nightgown.

"Hi," Sheldon mumbled.

"Hey," Amy replied softly, her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned the nightgown further.

"Did Bernadette leave?" Sheldon asked, hoping in vain that he could get out of this.

"Yes," Amy said.

Sheldon nodded. He would just have to suck it up and deal with the situation. He cursed himself again for writing that infernal clause the Relationship agreement.

Amy had unbuttoned all the tiny buttons at the top of her nightgown, and was now lifting it over her head.

Sheldon averted his gaze quickly. This was not the time to ogle his girlfriend. She was sick for crying out loud. His mother and his meemaw raised him better than this. He would behave like a gentleman and help her through this.

It must be uncomfortable enough for her as it was. She had been sick for days now.

Frankly, it was starting to worry him.

He wanted to wait until she was fully emerged in the water, before he turned around again. He realised however that she had no adhesive stickers on the bottom of her tub. Surely she would slip in her current unbalanced state.

He turned around just to see her lift one leg up and put it in the water. Her backside was facing him. His eyes followed the slope of her back, down to her naked bottom. It looked round and soft. Sheldon swallowed thickly. He hurried towards her.

"Be careful Amy," he called out.

She startled and wobbled on her legs. He quickly grasped her wrist with one hand and her waist with the other. Her skin felt hot to the touch. He very much tried to ignore the fact that she was naked and covered with germs.

"You're light-headed," he muttered, grabbing her hand instead of her wrist, "here, hold onto me." Her breathing was stilted. The grip on his hand tightened as she lifted her other leg into the tub.

Sheldon had gotten a glimpse of her breasts as she moved. He berated himself for peeking.

"Okay," he said, trying to sound unaffected. "I'm going to help lower you down, okay?"

"Okay," Amy sounded breathless.

He tightened his grip on her waist, his entire arm was around her now, resting above her naked bottom. She bent her knees and he helped her down carefully.

He was so distracted by watching her breasts submerge in the water, that he registered too late that his entire left arm was under water as well.

"Sheldon, your shirt," Amy said, alerting him.

Drat. How could he be so careless?

"Oh," he said. He pulled his arm from her and looked at the damage. The sleeve was soaked through. "Do you have a dryer in your building, Amy?"

"Yes?" she questioned. He noticed she was covering her bosom with her arms and had her legs pressed tightly together. Did she not want him looking at her? Or was she ashamed?

"I'll throw this in there later then," he muttered, taking of both his shirts at once. He hung them out to dry on her towel rack.

Amy stared at his naked torso. Was this the first time he had been in such a state of undress in front of her? He had rather not done it, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Besides, his shirt would get wet either way. Since he had to help her bathe and all.

He flushed under her stare.

"Do you have a loofah, or a washcloth or something?" he asked, trying to steer away her attention from his chest.

"There's some sponges under the sink," Amy muttered.

Sheldon opened the cabinet and found her storage of shampoo and shower gels. He had filled the bath with bath salts only. He found the sponges she mentioned. They were relatively small, and oddly shaped.

"Are these real?" he asked, bewildered.

"Yes," Amy answered, he heard the water slosh around as she moved, "Dr. Anastisakis brought them back from Greece when she went to visit her father last month."

Even the biggest of the set of sponges fit easily into his palm. He had wanted something to wash her with for hygienic purposes, but also to avoid touching her too much. It wouldn't go over well with these.

He walked back over to the tub and regarded her. She was almost fully emerged in the tub, only her face was above the surface. Her hair floated around her head in a halo, and she reminded Sheldon of the sirens of Greek mythology, who seduced Odysseus into danger. Amy often reminded him of a forbidden temptress for some reason.

She hadn't heard him approach apparently. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing out slowly. The tips of her breasts peaked out above the water; her nipples had hardened to the cool air. His heart skipped a beat.

Sheldon looked somewhere else quickly, but that was a big mistake. Her tummy was slightly pudgy, but looked soft to the touch, and a bit further down, his eyes halted once again. She had shown him her privates before – in the dark in a parking lot, but she was free of Band-Aids now.

He took a deep breath. He felt disgusted with himself. She was sick and in need of his assistance and here he was, ogling her feminine parts without her consent or even without her knowledge.

He should get this over with.

Her knees were pulled up, and he softly touched her knee to alert her of his presence. Her eyes shot open and she flushed immediately.

Still feverish, Sheldon concluded.

"Shall I wash your back?" he asked, figuring she must have been sweating during the night. And also so he wouldn't have to look at her front.

Amy nodded mutely, and sat forward, hugging her knees.

Sheldon sank to his knees next to the tub. He moved her wet hair over her shoulder, and wetted the sponge in the bathwater. He added some shower gel to the sponge – it smelled like her, and he was glad for some sense of normalcy, since this whole thing was anything but.

He moved the sponge over her shoulders in small rotations, noticing her breathing softly with each swipe across her back. The sponge really was too small for his hand, he concluded, the tips of his fingers grazed her skin in the process as well.

"Is this alright?" he asked her softly.

"Yes," Amy whispered, "thank you."

She must understand how hard this was for him. The physical closeness. The touching. Her sick germs, probably multiplying in the water already.

He held the sponge in one hand, as he made a cup of the other hand to wash away the suds on her back. There was really no use to try to not use his hands for this, he had touched her quite enough already while using the sponge.

Amy inhaled sharply however when his palm touched her spine.

"Alright?" Sheldon asked.

Amy nodded quickly. "Y-yes," she mumbled, "You caught me by surprise, that's all."

He hummed, and grasped her shoulder to pull her back to rest in the water again. His other hand still held the sponge, which still held enough shower gel to wash more of her. Amy fell back into the water, shielding her breasts from his view with one arm, and her lady parts with her other hand.

"I already saw everything, Amy," Sheldon confessed quietly, "you should know that the hero always peaks. But if you'd rather I don't see anything now, I'll try not to look again." He took hold of her wrist, lifting it from her bosom. He looked her in the eyes the entire time.

He moved the sponge over her hand, and saw Amy tremble in his peripheral vision.

He moved the sponge over her underarm, to her elbow and her upper arm. He caught her gaze. Amy had red blotches in her neck now. Perhaps the warm bath wasn't helping her fever at all.

"How are you feeling? Still hot?" he asked, as he moved the sponge in circles over her chest on his way to her other arm. This was almost familiar territory now.

"A little hot, yes," Amy said hoarsely. The red blotches seemed to get bigger.

Sheldon looked at her with concern. She wasn't recovering at all. The bath had been his last hope. He had even called his mother the day before, asking her for help in the matter. She had suggested the bath, advising him to use salts to stimulate her blood flow. As a scientist, he knew that was merely a homeopathic remedy and he should probably get her something from the pharmacy instead. Luckily, Penny still had lots of bath products from that one Christmas years ago, and gave him some products with a sly grin on her face.

He finished her other arm, and looked at her face again.

"Do you want me to continue?" he asked, holding the sponge in the air. What was he asking her? He didn't even know himself. It had just been over so quickly, and he liked the way his fingertips had grazed her skin.

He also liked to catalogue her responses to his touch.

She was still feverish, of course, but he did notice her nipples tightening as his hands swept over her chest. He wondered if she had responded to his touch, or if it was a cold shiver caused by her fever had run through her.

"O-Oh," Amy stammered, "y-you mean you want to… o-o-okay.."

Sheldon looked at her. What had he asked her? Amy responded in such a way that it was almost as if he had propositioned her. Had he?

He looked at her with wide eyes. Had he just asked her permission to touch her breasts?

And had she just granted it?

Amy lifted herself up slightly from the tub, her breasts now above the water. She bit her lip as she looked at him.

She was uncomfortable, Sheldon deduced. But it must be necessary to wash her, her chest had been covered with VapoRub. It would most likely be possible that some residue would be on her bosom as well. Or residual sweat from the night, he figured.

He grabbed the sponge and plunged it in the water again. He breathed out slowly. He gave himself a pep talk of sort.

He could do this without getting too excited. He was a well raised Texan gentleman, and his girlfriend was in need of his help. He had made a binding agreement to her, to help her in times like this. Sheldon Lee Cooper was nothing if not a man of his word. He would go through with this, and behave like a professional nurse.

He looked Amy in the eye. "May I?" he asked quietly, needing to be sure he hadn't misunderstood her. It would be so much easier if he had.

Amy nodded. She looked even more flushed than before. He would have to take her temperature again, he mentally noted.

Slowly, Sheldon moved his hand to her right breast. He brushed the sponge against the side, softly moving it across the roundness of it. His fingertips grazed her ever so slightly.

He watched the suds of the shower gel leave a path of bubbles on the skin he covered.

Amy panted softly.

Moving inward with his strokes, he was approaching her nipple rapidly. Sheldon looked over at Amy again quickly, her eyes were fixed on his face. Sheldon flushed under her stare.

He couldn't help himself, and moved the sponge around in his hand, making his fingers touch more of her breast that way. He heard Amy breathe more quickly – her fever had to be worsening – and his fingers felt the skin of her breast. He catalogued it.

The only other breast he had ever touched had been Penny's, when he had to help her go to the hospital after her fall in the shower.

But she had silicone implants and Amy's breasts felt nothing like hers.

The skin felt soft and supple under his fingers, and the tissue under that was firm but compliant. It felt strange.

His inward strokes had reached her nipple now, and he brushed the sponge over it softly. Amy squirmed in the water. Did the fever make her too sensitive to the touch? It was an erogenous zone after all.

His fingers followed the path the sponge had made. Her nipple felt like his own nipples felt, except that hers were bigger. He caressed the very tip softly, brushing away a bubble from the soap.

It tightened under his ministrations.

So it had been his touch, and not the fever that caused this.

Or maybe it was the fever after all. He looked back at Amy and her earlier flush had deepened to a fully red blotch on her cheeks.

He moved over to her other breast and repeated his earlier movements. He found it easier now that he knew what to expect.

He moved back to her sternum when he finished fondling her other breast. You could hardly call it 'washing' anymore, he figured.

Thankfully, he was able to detach his mind from his body and nothing embarrassing had happened in his pants yet.

He repositioned a bit, his knees were starting to hurt after sitting on them for a prolonged period of time.

His hand was still between her breasts, holding the soapy piece of sponge. He moved it methodically lower, under her breasts now, moving his hand underwater as well. It was a good thing he had taken of his shirts.

Amy's belly was soft to the touch. He liked the feeling of her smooth skin underneath his hands.

The soapy bubbles moved up towards the surface of the water with every swipe across her skin he made.

He paused at her belly button, moving a corner of the sponge inside it. Amy giggled and Sheldon looked up.

"That tickles," Amy said. She sounded breathless again. Perhaps he should check her for other symptoms of pneumonia as well. Her overall condition was worrying him.

"Sorry," Sheldon mumbled.

There was no more belly left to wash. His hands had swiped dangerously low under her belly button already. He was nervous all of a sudden.

Amy was in no condition to do this herself however – she had only seemed to worsen in the last fifteen minutes, and he had promised to help her.

He would go through with this and behave like a professional nurse. He reminded himself.

He would just have to move quickly and then it would be over and he could go bathe in Purell.

He let go of the sponge - it floated around the tub, and brought his hand down to her womanhood. He swiftly lowered his fingers to between her legs.

"Sheldon!" Amy gasped, but he barely heard her.

Her inner labia were slick with lubrication.

Sheldon stilled as he felt it.

Oh.

Oh.

She was aroused, he realised. Her earlier symptoms had not been of the flu, pneumonia or any other infectious disease. It had been arousal that caused her breath to quicken or her face to flush. Her nipples to harden.

He had done this to her.

He felt bad. He was supposed to help her get better, but here he was, unintentionally riling her up.

He would just finish this quickly and they wouldn't speak of it again.

"Is this alright?" he repeated his first question, hoping it helped bring back the earlier situation between them.

Amy could only gape at him.

"I had to let go of the sponge," Sheldon explained quickly, "the vagina is able to regulate its own pH-levels, and using soap or shower gels to wash it is highly discouraged by gynaecologists. Only water to wash it should be sufficient."

Surely she knew this already?

"Is this alright?" he asked again.

Amy's eyes were dark, and her entire face was blushing.

"Y-Yes," she stuttered.

Sheldon moved his fingers over her again. There was a lot of lubrication, his fingers moved through it easily. It felt hot against his fingers, the bathwater had cooled down by now.

Should he remove it somehow? Or just swipe his hand across it a couple of times, rinsing it away? Would it just float around in the tub, or would it dissolve in the water? He still had to wash her hair. Surprisingly, he wasn't as disgusted as he had thought.

He wondered how Amy washed herself down there in the bath.

"How do I do this, Amy?" he asked quietly. Perhaps she had a special wash cloth she used for her privates.

Amy's fingers closed around his wrist softly. She moved his fingers to the top of her labia, and rested them there. Should he start washing her there?

Sheldon felt around. His fingers touched a hardened nub of flesh there. Amy moaned softly.

"Like that," she said breathlessly.

Sheldon stared at her. This wasn't washing her. She had misunderstood him. He replayed the conversation in his head quickly. He had been ambiguous in his choice of words. Should he tell her? He would leave her devastated.

But even Sheldon knew it would be cruel to deny her now.

He moved his fingers again hesitantly, rubbing the spot she had directed him to. She gasped.

"Like this?" Sheldon murmured.

Amy increased the grip on his wrist, and nodded frantically. Her eyes were closed tight and beads of sweat formed around her hairline.

She moved his hand lower, his fingers gliding over her – was there even more lubrication than before? – until his index finger touched what he knew had to be the entrance of her sex.

His eyes shifted to her face. She was looking at him through half-lidded eyes.

Her hips shifted underneath his hand, and his finger slipped further down, inside her.

"Oh!" Amy breathed.

Sheldon gasped and pushed his finger further. She felt hot and slick and soft.

Amy's hips moved against his hand, causing his finger to move slightly in and out of her. She felt snug around his finger. Was his erect penis supposed to fit in here?

That would never work.

He felt the walls of her vagina quiver around him as his finger moved into her. What would that feel like around his - - he quickly stopped that train of thought.

He watched Amy closely. She had grasped the edges of the tub with both her hands. Her chest rose rapidly. Her eyes were closed. The blush on her cheeks now covered her entire neck as well.

His index finger felt around the soft wetness inside her carefully. He came across a spongy spot at the front of her body. The tip of his finger brushed over it.

Amy gasped loudly, her eyes shot open.

Sheldon had to suppress a grin. The elusive g-spot. It was just the underside of the clitoris, he had read an article about this part of female anatomy just recently. And it was fairly easy to find as well.

He moved his finger over it again, like he was beckoning her to come closer.

"Ah, Sheldon," Amy keened.

He caught her eye. "Is this alright?" he asked again.

Amy moaned in response. She quivered around him even more than before.

He wondered what would happen if he touched her clitoris simultaneously. Surely she would go crazy then. He moved his thumb to the top of her labia, and brushed it across her clit.

Amy panted.

"Sheldon…" she gasped.

"Is this alright?" he repeated. He needed either confirmation or some form of validation that we was doing a good job.

"YES, oh my God, Sheldon…"

He felt a strange sense of pride wash over him.

"Ahh, I've never… Never been touched like this… Oh my… This feels in-in-incredible…"

Amy was mumbling, barely speaking coherently. He caught some words of praise, and incredible sounded pretty great, so he assumed he was doing alright.

He continued his movements on her clit, while he pumped his index finger in and out of her. It was difficult to make his thumb and index finger rub in different patterns against her. Amy didn't seem to mind the lack of stimulation inside of her, she kept withering against him and panting at his touches.

How much longer would he have to keep this up? Was he supposed to do this until she finished? He didn't know if he could bare to witness that. Doing this was already more arousing than he dared to admit.

But he couldn't just stop now, could he?

That would be a really bad move. And he already made so many bad moves, socially. This he knew he could prevent by seeing through.

He would just have to man up and get it over with.

"Amy," he muttered, "what do you need me to do to bring you to orgasm?"

Amy shuddered against him slightly.

"Kiss me," she whispered.

Sheldon almost retracted his hand immediately. "Amy, I can't," he mumbled hoarsely, the panic in his voice evident, "you're sick – the mucus and the germs and - -"

Amy grabbed his forearm and moved her hips against in hand. "Oh!" she mewled when his index finger brushed against that spot again.

"If I – if I weren't sick," she whispered between moans, "would you?"

Sheldon looked at her, she was suddenly very red in the face. He thought over her question.

Would he have kissed her if she weren't sick? Sheldon thought for a second. The question had to be purely hypothetical; if she weren't sick, they wouldn't be into this situation.

Would he kiss her in a situation like this, where he touched so intimately? Sheldon liked to think that, if that time would ever come, he'd kiss his girlfriend as a prelude to any kind of intimacy.

Amy had purposely misunderstood his words and put him in this situation, he thought.

If it were in any way according to the social norm society set nowadays, of course he would kiss her in an intimate situation.

"Yes," he answered, "I would."

Amy gasped for breath and Sheldon felt her inner walls contract around his finger, pulsing and quivering. Her clit throbbed under his thumb.

He looked at Amy in bewilderment as she clenched and unclenched involuntarily, her hand had a vice-like grip on his arm, her mouth open and panting, her eyes fluttered closed.

"Sheldon," she murmured, slowly opening her eyes.

He looked at her and saw the realisation of what had just happened between them register on her face.

He extracted his finger from inside her, and moved his palm over her swiftly a couple of times. Amy squirmed. At least now he had somewhat washed her, what his original intention had been.

He cleared his throat.

"I'll help you out of the tub," he said, filling the silence between them.

"I don't think I can stand right now."

Sheldon's eyes shot to her face in concern. "Has your fever worsened so that you're unable to use your legs?"

Amy blushed and gave him a small smile. "No, that orgasm has worn me out. Give me a minute."

It was Sheldon's turn to blush. He looked away. The situation inside his pants wasn't getting any better with her saying things like this.

"Right," he said, avoiding her eyes.

"That was amazing, Sheldon," Amy whispered.

Sheldon didn't know what to say. Thank you? You're welcome? So instead he just nodded.

"Do you need me to do anything else?" he asked. He hadn't washed her hair yet. Or maybe her bedding needed changing.

"You've done more than enough," Amy said softly.

They sat in silence for another minute or so. Finally, Amy said she felt good enough that she could stand again.

He helped her stand and slowly step out of the tub.

He grabbed the freshly laundered towel he had laid out for her, and threw it around her shoulders. He dried of her arms softly. Amy looked at him.

Sheldon reminded himself of his earlier thought. He would behave like a professional nurse and see this through as quickly as possible.

Except the air around them felt different now.

He moved over her chest and her tummy methodically, and crouched down to dry her legs quickly.

"I'll grab your nightgown," he said, handing the towel to her, "can you finish this yourself?"

Amy nodded, and Sheldon moved to her bedroom quickly. He didn't dare touch her there again. His erection had deflated, but would surely reappear if he touched her there again.

There was also the possibility of him having to repeat his performance. He wasn't ready for that.

Hell, he hadn't even been ready for the first performance.

Although, Amy had been more than happy with how he had handled the situation. That coupled with the fact that he was taking care of her right now, would surely score him some points.

If only she would recover sooner.

When he returned to the bathroom, Amy was plaiting her wet hair. She had her glasses on again, and Sheldon was glad. Now she looked like regular Amy, not the wanton Amy he had just seen in her tub.

He helped her put on her nightgown.

"Maybe you should try to get some rest," he said, and turned to walk ahead of her to her bedroom.

Amy grasped his hand as he turned.

"Sheldon, I.." she started.

"What is it, Amy?"

She blushed, and looked down. "Thank you, for taking such good care of me."

Sheldon nodded. "I made a commitment to you, Amy. I've already told you this."

She squeezed his hand. "Still. Thank you."

Sheldon didn't know what to respond to this. He gave her hand a squeeze in return.

"Let's get you down for a nap."

He tucked her in, and left the bedroom door ajar so he could hear her call for him if necessary. He took a deep breath as he sat down on the couch. He would talk to Leonard about this later.

He walked back to the bathroom to grab his shirt; the sleeve was almost dry by now and pulled it on. He grabbed to q-tips from a cabinet, and walked over to Amy's sleeping form.

She slept with her mouth open slightly, luckily. He moved both q-tips across the inside of her cheek.

He needed answers about her illness. It took far longer than any regular flu.

When he got the call that the results were in, he was relieved he would get answers.

What he hadn't had expected was what results he would get.

No illness whatsoever.

According to the lab, she had active immune cells, indicating an earlier bout of the flu. But the cheek swap he took was free of flu bacteria.

She had lied to him.

"If I weren't sick, would you?"

She hadn't been sick. Did she really want to know if he'd kiss her? She had had the opportune moment to come clean then. Yet she hadn't.

Amy had not only lied to him, but she had also taken advantage of his care-giver attitude.

Sheldon decided some form of disciplinary action was in order. Maybe he would take a page out of his father's book and spank her.

Yes, Sheldon thought. That would surely discourage her from lying to him again.

END