Sheldon Lee Cooper was in hell. Of that he was certain. Not that he considered himself a religious man, in any way shape or form. Perhaps in a parallel universe, somewhere out in the vast cosmos, there was a religious Sheldon; one more familiar with the intricacies of the fire and damnation associated with Hell. Alas, even ruminating through his many worlds theory could not right him from his singular mindset on this day. For the Sheldon Lee Cooper in this universe was in Hell. And it was all due to the one woman, who, for all intents and purposes, was the center of his universe: one Amy Farrah Fowler. That vixen.

It had been nearly a half-decade since she had entered his life. Not only his life though, his heart as well. He had let her into his heart. And not too long ago now, he had let her into his bed, much to both their delight. Their newfound intimacy was an exciting, albeit distracting addition to their relationship. But once that threshold had been breached, there was no going back; there was no desire to. The only desires he had these days were for Amy. Which ultimately leads him back to his current predicament in the seventh circle of a tormented fate.

Amy has been away for a week and half. 8 days. 191 hours. 11,460 minutes. It didn't matter how he calculated it; it didn't make him feel any better. And the minutes just kept ticking by, adding additional minutes, additional yearnings. And not a single waking minute went by without thinking of her. It was torture. How had they survived these extended separations in the past? And then it hit him: this was their first post-intimacy separation. A distance of minds they had experienced many times prior. But this distance of their bodies was the first since consummation. For the thousandth time, Sheldon mentally cursed the field of neurobiology in its entirety. What right did it have to establish such a long, drawn out conference that would lure his brilliant girlfriend hundreds of miles away to share her knowledge and insights with leading researchers in the field? Neurobiology surely understood his biological needs for Amy, did it not? Ridiculous biology, he was sure, had struck again.

Sheldon sat in his office, quietly ruminating over the events from the past several days, and all the various thoughts associated with this prolonged absence. He hadn't achieved anything of note in this time period either. Nothing in the realm of science, anyway. His singular accomplishment for the week was a new futuristic train on one side of his whiteboard. But the image had only succeeded in fueling daydreams about their romance-inspired train excursion and their heated Valentine's Day kiss. Eating lunch every day at work by himself or with the guys was just another reminder that he and Amy usually shared their lunch hour together. Typically they were ensconced in her lab, only a few feet separating them as they challenged the boundaries of science, engaged in social experiment note exchanges or snuck in a few clandestine kisses behind closed doors. He had finally reached the stage in his life where he was stealing kisses in various locations on a school campus. He sighed at the memory. And so, for the eighth day in a row, his physical presence may have been behind his desk, in his office at CalTech, but his mind was hundreds of miles away, in San Francisco, where his beloved Amy was finishing up her last day away before returning home to him.

He thought back fondly on the last time he had physically been in her presence. It was also the last time they had gotten physical, on their last date night before her early morning flight the next day. A simple good night kiss at the end of the evening had somehow evolved into Sheldon hovering above Amy on the couch, deepening a passionate kiss and pressing her further into the cushions, both of them grasping at the other's clothing. They had made quick work of their clothes, flinging the useless garments in every direction before he had buried himself to the hilt in her heated flesh with an audible, simultaneous groan by them both. Their frenzied lovemaking was a fusing of their physical bodies and their minds; a connection that would have to last this separation. And as Amy gasped his name upon her climax, she gazed into his eyes and proclaimed her love for him over and over until Sheldon, too, reached his own pleasure, sinking his teeth gently into her exposed shoulder to stifle a loud, animalistic scream. He was unsure if it was intentional or unintentional, but he had left a faint mark on his woman, and he was proud of it. It brought out his inner caveman.

Sheldon shivered in his chair at the memory. His hand came up to unconsciously rub at his chest, where beneath Amy's favorite black Superman t-shirt, his heart ached. Damn this separation. He missed her face. Her silky, chocolate-colored hair. Her smile. Her warmth. Her touch. Her beckoning hips. Her curvy posterior. He missed his Amy.

They had engaged in nightly Skype sessions where they discussed their respective days, but it wasn't nearly enough. Their discussions centered primarily around business. He had inquired about her lectures, and she had filled him in accordingly, automatically recounting her day in a succinct manner.

Had he been a braver man, he might have suggested what had been proclaimed "dirty talk" by societal standards. But try as he might, he just couldn't do it. As much as he craved some physical release, he had no interest in self-satisfaction. Not if she wasn't there with him, causing him pleasure herself. He wanted her hands, her lips, her body. He would not settle for her words and his clumsy hands. And so their conversations had been routine, sedate, and ultimately ended with heartfelt admissions of love. He missed her. Truly missed her. And he made sure she knew it. And he knew she felt the same. She never ended a call without telling him so.

He envied her preoccupation in this conference, and the lectures she was absorbed in. He was not so fortunate to have such intellectual distractions. Granted, he should have, but just could not find his focus; his drive. She had stolen that away with her, along with his heart.

Sheldon allowed his stomach to flutter briefly at the thought of her arriving that evening, and returning to their comfortable, yet exciting routine. Until that time, he would sit here, bobbing in his office chair, staring blankly out the window, and accomplishing nothing. He indulged in this guilty behavior behind his closed door, hoping no one would disturb his reverie.

Just then, there was the faintest knock upon the door. 'Of course,' he thought briefly, not even caring whom the visitor was, or what they intended to bother him with. He did not presently possess the patience, or the desire to swap intellectual stimuli with anyone at this moment. Without adjusting his current posture, or bothering to face the door, he announced a simple, "Come," with an air of agitation and awaited the intruder's disruption.

He heard the handle turn, and the door sweep open, moments before he heard someone speak.

"Hello, Doctor Cooper. I hope I'm not disturbing you," announced a familiar, velvety smooth voice.

A/N: This is my absolute first story, and I've been writing it since April of this year. This will be a multi-chapter story (roughly five chapters), and all have already been written. I will update every few days, assuming these is interest for me to continue it. I own nothing. Thanks, all!