Sorry for the late update, but… yeah. Enjoy.

Even hours after, his lips still tingled.

This was a fact that baffled even him, and Sheldon Cooper was rarely baffled. He thought he knew everything there was to know about kissing, all the muscles used and chemicals released during the act, but he had staunchly believed and even prided in the fact that he was far too evolved for something as primitive and simplistic as that.

Boy, was he wrong.

Sheldon Cooper was wrong. An event for the history books.

But he cannot deny it as he sits in the bed-and-breakfast lounge with a nine-fingered, banjo-playing conductor, a rather uncomfortable-looking Howard and Bernadette, and… Amy Farrah Fowler.

More specifically, Amy Farrah Fowler's lips.

He was breathing the same air as a real life train conductor with even the same pocket watch as he, and all Sheldon could think of was that if he turned his head eighty-two degrees to the left and dipped it at a diagonal slope of 10.4 inches, he could kiss her again.

He had just been trying to prove a point, he swears it. Though what exactly he had been trying to prove, he still wasn't entirely sure. All he knew was that he had boldly gone where no Homo Novus had gone before.

The moment he had taken that step forward to deepen the kiss, he had felt all his inhibitions on physical affection burn away, abandon him like smoke in the wind, if only for a moment. But what was he without his fears? Without them, chaos would reign, overthrowing the order he had so painstakingly constructed around every aspect of his life. His mother had always preached at him to avoid the fiery pits of hell at all costs. This was his hell.

When the conductor had plucked his final note and called it a night, Sheldon rose to his feet as though in a trance and followed Amy's lead to their rooms. Howard and Bernadette wasted no time in scurrying ahead to their own, grumbling to one another in not-so-lowered voices.

"Last time we take a trip with Sheldon. Ever."

"Agreed." Howard leaned in closer to his wife, positively leering. "I think that after all we've been through tonight, we both deserve a little alone time."

Deserve.

I deserve romance, and I… didn't know how else to make it happen.

That was it. That was why he had kissed her, all because of that one little word. In that moment he realized just how much Amy had changed these four years, no longer the pragmatic, sensible woman with a disdain for romantic affection. No longer like him. But that was what she really deserved, if only she could see it: a relationship purely of the intellect that was above all such damaging notions of feelings and love.

So that was why he had decided to give her what she thought she deserved, to show her that she deserves so much more.

"Sheldon?"

His head snapped downward to meet her gaze, realizing that she had halted in front of their separate rooms. He hadn't even noticed that they had arrived. "Is everything okay?"

He knew what she was really asking, though. Are you okay? Are we okay?

Well, was he?

He inhaled deeply, and on the exhale he found that he was smiling. Fascinating. "I'm fine, Amy, truly. Tonight was… very nice."

She smiled shyly at him in return. "Good."

She took a step closer, the closer proximity making her tilt her head to meet his eyes. Sheldon felt his breath quicken and heart race, just like earlier on the train. This new emotion was not unlike the fear that had been his closest companion since birth, but coupled with an inexplicable thrill of excitement, running from head to toe.

Just as he thought his ribcage would explode from the duel force of anxiety and anticipation, Amy broke the tension by standing on tip-toe and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Good night, Sheldon."

And all at once everything went still. His heart calmed, his breathing evened, and for one shining moment his mind ceased the incessant whirlwind of thoughts and equations and information that plagues someone like him. Replacing all that was a sudden warmth that kindled in the pit of his stomach and rose all the way to his face.

She was gone before his brain could formulate a reply, leaving him out in the hall alone. Sheldon lifted a hand to his face, hovering over the exact spot where her lips had made contact yet not quite daring to touch. No tears, no panic attacks, no racing to disinfect himself. Nothing but a simmering heat within that he knew needed only a spark more to grow into a roaring inferno, slowly consuming his all in the best way possible.

Well if this was hell, he'd throw himself onto the pyre headfirst.

His mind made up, Sheldon resolutely turned on his heel and marched into his room, heading straight for the laptop in his desk. Upon retrieval, he sat himself down and pulled up the runner-up to the most important document in the history of mankind, second only to the Roommate Agreement and narrowly superseding the American Constitution.

The Relationship Agreement

A binding covenant that enumerates, iterates, and codifies the rights and responsibilities of Sheldon Lee Cooper, here and after known as "The Boyfriend", and Amy Farrah Fowler, here and after known as "The Girlfriend."

In light of his newfound disregard for order, Sheldon skipped ahead and went straight to the point of interest.

Section Six: Kissing

He had work to do.

That action alone definitively proved, without an iota of doubt, that the great Sheldon Cooper had found hell, and was loving every minute of it.