THE BIBLIOTHECA EXPECTATIONS

CHAPTER 2

"To wish was to hope, and to hope was to expect."
- Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen

The first second awake startled her but then she relaxed. Sheldon's bed. She shifted slightly, enjoying the softness of his sheets and the warmth of his blankets. She didn't remember pulling the comforter up, but she must have at some point. Amy reached out and stretched her arms and yawned.

"Good morning," she heard Sheldon say softly behind her. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmmm," was her reply as she reached for her glasses to put them on before rolling over. Sheldon was sitting up in bed holding an open book. "Sorry, I need to use the restroom."

He nodded and Amy climbed out of bed, shivering slightly as the morning air hit her. It had cooled considerably since last night. She hurried into the bathroom, although she did decide to brush her teeth. When she opened the door, she smiled at the sight. Sheldon was reading again, and he didn't seem to have heard her as he was so engrossed in his book. The apartment was much brighter now, and the sunrise refracted through the stained glass window to create colorful patterns on Sheldon's striped comforter.

Glad he hadn't gotten up, Amy shuffled back to bed, tucking herself in under the warm blankets once more. She curled up close and softly placed her cheek on his plaid-covered shoulder. "Is this okay?" she whispered.

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be? I hope you're warming up. You were shivering in the middle of the night."

Realizing it was Sheldon who had covered her, Amy nodded and looked down at the open page. "What are you reading?"

"Sense and Sensibility.

"You do know Jane Austen wrote romance novels, correct?"

"I believe they're more frequently considered social satire." He paused and added, "You mentioned she's one of your favorites."

"Are you reading all my favorites?"

"Yes. Don't worry, we'll be even. I bought you a copy of The Hobbit."

Smiling, Amy said, "Where are you at?"

Sheldon cleared his throat softly and started to read, "'Encouraged by this to a further examination of his opinions, she proceeded to question him on the subject of books; her favourite authors were brought forward and dwelt upon with so rapturous a delight, that any young man of five-and-twenty must have been insensible indeed, not to become an immediate convert to the excellence of such works, however disregarded before. Their taste was strikingly alike. The same books, the same passages were idolized by each - or, if any difference appeared, any objection arose, it lasted no longer than till the force of her arguments and the brightness of her eyes could be displayed. He acquiesced in all her decisions, caught all her enthusiasm, and long before his visit concluded, they conversed with the familiarity of a long-established acquaintance.'" A pause. "Sound like anyone you know?"

"You like the brightness of my eyes," Amy protested softly.

"I like your rapturous delight even more."

Blushing at the compliment, Amy replied, "I like it when you read aloud to me." She wondered if he guessed that was her plan. For the page was clearly visible to her and she'd read the novel enough to know exactly where he was in the story.

"Likewise." His beautiful fingers arched and rotated to several pages before, grasping and pulling out a bookmark before placing it gently in the crevice of the book and shutting it with a gentle thud and then holding it up to her. "Do you mind setting this over there? Why don't you tell me why you like this one so much?"

"If I tell you, you'll know how it ends," Amy answered, taking the book and turning to set on the bedside table.

"It's a Jane Austen book, so I think I can guess. Plus I'm a doctor of library science."

Amy gave a little chuckle as she snuggled back into his side and then said, "I like that it's about hope. Hope denied, hope delayed, hope lost, hope found when least expected, hope regained."

"I would have said it's about expectations. Marianne has too many unrealistic ones, Elinor doesn't allow herself any."

"Hope and expectations are not so different. Hope is more optimistic, I suppose."

She felt Sheldon nod. Curled up like this, she wasn't able to see much of his face other than fine curves of his soft lips and his chin, covered this morning in the barest of stubble. She'd never seen that before, and there was something surprisingly alluring about it. She reached up to rest her hand softly on his chest and smiled when his hand came up to rest over it.

Her eyes moved to the stained glass window, and now, with the light behind it, and perhaps because she was further way, she could make out what the design was. "It's an iris."

"What is?"

"The window. Like at the Metro stop."

"Oh. Yes. This area of town apparently used to be called Iris Hill."

"You know, I've never been sure if I really liked irises, but that window is beautiful."

"I find them fascinating."

"Really?" Amy asked, her eyebrows going up. "You don't strike me as a flower person."

"I find the etymology of the word fascinating, how all sorts of various forms of irises show up over and over again in our modern language. First there was the Greek goddess, and she embodied so many things: rainbows, where the ocean meets the sky, traveling with the winds as a messenger."

"She's the goddess of transition, isn't she? Bridging the heaven and the earth with her rainbow, bringing wind in a new direction with her wings, bringing news with her messages?" Amy asked, although she knew the answer.

"Exactly. And from that we get not only the flowers but also the element iridium. It's named that because its salts are so brightly colored, but then it has also proven to be both highly elastic and very strong, enabling it to exist in many compounds, easily transforming."

Amy smiled softly. "And the iris of the eye, of course. Both colorful and highly adaptive. It's always in a state of transition. And there's the hormone irisin, which is released by the muscles after exercise, which, depending on the situation, could be both a running like the wind and transitioning something."

"Don't forget Iris West," Sheldon added quickly, "from The Flash."

"Oh, how does her superpower cause her to transition?"

"She doesn't really; in most versions she's just a human." Sheldon paused, licked his lips, and looked toward the fireplace. "But, then, she falls in love with Barry Allen and perhaps love is the most transformative thing of all."

Smiling softly and looking away herself, Amy took in all she could see which was most of the studio apartment spread before her. At some point before she awoke, Sheldon had also turned on the fireplace, no doubt to battle the chill. Sun poured in the large bay window; did Sheldon not have any blinds or curtains at all? But the golden light warmed the paint on the walls to a soft yellow, not the drab mustard color of last night. The bookcases and fireplace looked better from here, and Sheldon's brown leather sofa seemed to fit the space. She glanced up and noticed the crack in the ceiling had been neatly plastered over; it was just a shadow she had seen last night. Actually, with the ugly modern kitchen hidden, it was quite cozy, snuggling in bed with Sheldon, watching the top of the fire over the back of the sofa, enjoying the sun.

"That was a big sigh."

"I was thinking about the window. You need curtains or blinds."

"I'm aware. I just haven't had time yet." His voice sounded clipped, though.

"Oh, I meant I could make them for you," Amy said in a rush. She hadn't intended to upset him. "Some pillows would be nice in the window seat, too. I've never made a large cushion, but I don't see why I couldn't do that for it. I don't think I have enough fabrics left over from any of my quilts, but I'm sure I could find something that would work. And maybe my dresser would be better over there under the stained glass window," she added. "It's long and low while yours is so tall. So it wouldn't block the light but it would give us more room on that side of the bed, and then we can both have an end table for our bedtime reading. If you wouldn't mind, I think my coffee table might look better with your sofa, too, more period appropriate. And we could find a way to spruce up the bathroom and the kitchen, even, I think, if we apply our minds to it. Like some curtains in the kitchen window and maybe some live plants. How do you feel about antique bread boxes? And rugs, yes, definitely rugs. And art on the walls. If we bought a new lamp for the dining office area, do you think the landlord would install it? I've always liked Tiffany lamps - Oh!"

Amy jumped from the sudden movement as Sheldon pulled away from her before she realized it was just so he could kiss her. "Sheldon?" she asked when his lips pulled away.

"You said 'we.'"

"Well, yes, I suppose I did." She knew her brow was furrowing and yet she didn't try to change it. Sheldon loved that.

"So you're coming to live here?" he asked, his eyes bright and questioning.

"I thought that was the tentative plan going forward," Amy ventured hesitantly. "I know we agreed to not make a final decision right away, but I have out inquires and it seems I'll be able to finish my dissertation here and there's even a waiting list for my apartment so -"

Another kiss, this one not a soft brushing of his lips but something firm and needy, his hand coming up to hold the sides of her face. Then, needing oxygen, she pulled away.

Sheldon rested his forehead against hers. "Amy, do you mean it? I thought - last night - it seemed like you hated it, you seemed like you just wanted to leave, and I was so worried that you'd change your mind about living here - about me."

"Never. I'd live in a hobbit hole with you."

"Well, that would be a thousand times better than this dump."

Amy chuckled. "It's not a dump. It just needs love. And I think we have plenty of that. Do you still want me?"

"I've never wanted you more than when you said antique bread boxes."

Laughing again, Amy leaned in for another kiss, wrapping her arms around Sheldon's sides, holding him close. Her eyes went up slightly when, for the second time in her life, his tongue pressed into her mouth at the same time he gently lowered her onto her back.

Opening her eyes, Amy found Sheldon gazing down softly at her, rubbing the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone.

"I think this is the part where you ask to take off my glasses," she whispered, nervous at the implication even as she said it.

But Sheldon shook his head softly. "Not anymore until you're ready. I made you a promise and I meant it."

"I am ready."

His eyebrows went up slightly. "Really?"

"I guess I should ask if you have protection. I -" she blushed slightly, "I couldn't get in with my gynecologist for two weeks. And even then it will take a full cycle to . . ."

"Don't worry. I bought the economy pack."

Something about it struck Amy as funny, and she chuckled.

"I was serious." Sheldon stretched out beyond her, his long arm easily reaching the bedside drawer now that he was already angling over her, which he opened and lifted the box out to wave it above her. Then he sat up slightly to pass it to the other arm, setting it on the corner of the bed near his pillow.

The levity and necessities having passed, Amy swallowed when Sheldon looked back at her. He bent down and kissed her softly. "I love you, Amy. But you have to tell me yes."

For the second time in her life, Amy was about to give herself to Sheldon Cooper. This time, though, she thought it was a better plan to be more honest. "Before I say yes, I need to tell you that I'm a virgin."

"So am I."

"Really?" Her head raised slightly off the pillow. "But you seemed so knowledgeable and sure."

"I am knowledgeable about the mechanics. As are you. It seems that when your body - and your heart - want someone to be as close to you as they possibly can be, there isn't room for any doubt between you." He licked his lips. "I have to admit, though, I'm nervous now. In the library, it all happened so fast, like something out of a dream, I didn't have time to be nervous."

Amy reached up and put her hand on his cheek. "Me, too. But no doubt, remember?"

Sheldon nodded. "Yes?"

"Yes!" Amy cried out, reaching up and taking off her own glasses this time.

He stretched out along her, pressing close to her before he kissed her again. This, she remembered well: the warmth of his tongue, the softness of his lips, and, after he shifted slightly, the firmness of his arousal. But he didn't rush her; he kissed her deeply but softly, running his hand along her face and through her hair. Only when her lips were slightly sore did he seem to sense that a change would be welcome. He moved his lips down to her earlobe, causing Amy to gasp. His hand cupped her breast through her nightgown, and Amy moaned deeply at his thumb encircling her nipple through the fabric.

Flailing a bit, enjoying it but unsure what to do with herself, Amy put her hand on his chest and asked, "May I?"

Sheldon face hovered back above her with a little smile and he nodded. "Of course."

Amy started at the top, undoing each button, before pulling the edges of the fabric away to reveal his chest. She reached her palm along it again, the same muscles and pale skin that had so beautifully caught the firelight in the library now glowed in the sunrise.

"Here," Sheldon said, sitting up to pull his arms out of the sleeves and throw the shirt off the side of the bed. The light from the stained glass window caught his chest, illuminating it even more, the blues and the greens dancing across his pectorals as they shifted under his skin.

"Hoooooo," Amy breathed out.

She thought she caught the gleam of pride in his eyes just before he leaned over again to kiss her softly. His fingers walked softly up from her naval, giving one more swirl around a nipple, before they reached the pearl buttons on her nightgown. Breathing out softly, she watched his face as dedicated himself to the task of releasing the tiny round buttons. They could not have been simple to a man with such large hands, but his fingers were nimble and gentle as they released one after another.

Sheldon's blue eye flicked up to hers and the corners of his lips turned up. "These buttons . . ."

At last, the final button gave way, and Sheldon slipped his hand beneath the fabric, holding her breast from above. Amy realized a sharp breath as he twirled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Bending closer, Sheldon whispered in her ear, "You like that."

"Very much. Should I take the nightgown off?"

"But I put so much effort into unbuttoning it!" He murmured into a suckle of her earlobe, sliding his hand along her chest to toy with her other breast. Amy bucked into him.

His lips moved back to hers, and she tried to encourage him to move over with her arms even as she found her legs spreading of their own will. Sheldon pressed his groin closer to hers and she moaned into his mouth.

Perhaps it was becoming too much for him, too, as he backed away and pulled her up carefully. Amy reached for the hem of her nightgown, only allowing herself a swallow of embarrassment when she was hidden by its fabric as it pulled over her head. Following Sheldon's lead, she threw it over the side of the bed, watching it as it caught the air and billowed before floating to the ground.

Resting back, she finally looked back at Sheldon and she saw him, still sitting upright next to her, raking his eyes slowly down her body and then back up. "You're so beautiful, Amy."

Amy blushed, relieved she'd packed only her newest underwear. Sheldon reached over with his index finger and trailed down the center of her chest, twirling quickly around the edge of her belly button, which felt surprisingly good, and slowly descending to the top of her panties, resting his finger over the little statin bow there.

"Amy?" he looked up and asked.

She nodded, not entirely sure what exactly he was asking for, but anything he wanted to do with her underwear seemed like it needed to happen. His finger trailed down further, still over her panties, skimming over the wiry hair beneath, disappearing from view as it brushed her core. Amy gasped slightly, entirely in pleasure, her legs spreading even further.

"Fascinating," Sheldon murmured, rubbing his finger over the damp fabric.

A brief second of embarrassment shot through Amy, but then he smiled up at her and she realized there was something in that outward sign of her arousal that appealed to him. Perhaps her concern had passed over her face, because Sheldon lifted his hand way from the underwear and reached for hers. He locked his eyes upon hers and placed her hand over his manhood, although she saw him let out a long, slow breath when she made contact.

He hadn't uttered a word, and yet Amy understood him. There was no room for embarrassment here. Biology was strange and bizarre and yet perfectly natural. She allowed her fingers to curl around his form, surprised at how it felt even more firm than it had pressing against her thigh moments ago.

"Amy . . ." Sheldon shut his eyes and exhaled.

She pulled her hand away and waited for him to open his eyes before she reached down and tried, as gracefully as she could, to shimmy out of her panties. Sheldon watched her, and Amy blushed as his eyes settled on the apex of thighs and he swallowed. Just as he had for her, she reached for his hand and placed it over her mound.

Those blue eyes bored into hers as one of his long, tapered fingers slipped in to touch her. "Oh, Sheldon," she moaned. But then he pulled away, and she looked up at him questioningly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I think - I think I need to put the condom on now. I want to touch you, Amy, I really do, but I can't - "

He blushed and looked away.

"It's okay," she said. "I understand."

Sheldon turned on the bed, lowering his pajama bottoms, allowing Amy a glance on his slender backside, before he sat on the edge of the away from her. Not sure what the protocol was, she looked away to give him some privacy, focusing instead on the sunlight hitting his bookshelves as she heard him open the box and rip apart a package. She only looked back when he shuffled across the bed toward her, lowering himself slowly above her.

He bent down and kissed her softly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Make love to me." Perhaps, later, she'd regret that clichéd line, but it sounded right in the moment.

He reached down between them, and Amy pulled her knees up to give him more room. There was a soft prod and then another and then -

"Oh!"

Squeezing her eyes, she tried not to release a tear. She hadn't expected it to be quite like that. Sheldon ran a hand gently along her hair, and he leaned closer, giving each of her eyelids the tiniest of kisses.

"I love you," he whispered.

Taking a deep breath, Amy opened her eyes. Sheldon filled her view, his countenance vulnerable and open to her, displaying so many emotions at once that she felt overwhelmed at the honestly of this moment. There was love, so much love, and concern and hope and things for which even words, that most precious of commodities, could not express.

The burning pain having mostly subsided, she murmured, "You can move now."

"I need to be in more." He bit his lip in apology.

Amy nodded and Sheldon braced himself beside her, sliding slowly but unimaginably deep inside of her. She squeezed her eyes shut again until he came to a stop. There was another pause, more apologetic kisses on her face, but she could hear his breath rattling this time. A memory flashed in her head of the way he built the fire in the library, the way he nurtured it and cared for it, the way he studied its needs before making another move. He was doing the same with her, even though it was difficult for him. It was not his fault that his body found its need for realize as painful as she found it. But he was waiting.

"I love you, Sheldon," she said, and he took that as she intended, pulling out and back in. It, too, burned, but not as much as when he first entered her, and each one was less. Amy wondered if she was supposed to shut her eyes and abandon herself to these seconds, but she couldn't stop studying him. He, too, was watching her, although his eyes would periodically close.

The pain mostly gone, Amy wrapped her arms around him, running her fingers up and down his spine in the small of his back. Somehow, the book on the end table had come open when Sheldon had reached into the drawer, and now a page wafted in the air current created by Sheldon's motions above her. She could hear it rustle with each thrust of his body, and, even as she tried to take in all the new sensations her body was experiencing, she thought of that book and their bodies touching and lifting and coming to meet each other, like the sheaves of paper rustling a breeze, the words kissing, the inks mingling, bond together tighter than any binding of glue and thread.

"Oh, yes," Sheldon suddenly breathed out hoarsely. She lowered her other hand and cupped his bottom, finding something erotic about the way it contracted and dimpled beneath her palm.

This action was taken as encouragement - which, she supposed it was - and the next couple of thrusts came harder and faster until Sheldon gave a loud, high-pitched groan at the top of one. His eyes closed and his head went back, and Amy watched him come undone above her. It was a beautiful.

When he opened his eyes there was, yet again, a raw, naked moment of silence that passed between them. Then he kissed her on the forehead and pushed himself upright. His absence now felt as strange as his presence had earlier.

"I'm apologize. I need to go dispose of this," Sheldon said. "I should have planned better."

"It's okay."

He nodded and left the bed, holding himself as he walked to the bathroom. Amy fell deeply back into the pillow and closed her eyes.

It had not been what she expected, not entirely. She thought about the night they almost made love, that they would have made love. That was faster, more aggressive, without the stops and starts and discussion. It would have, by romance novel standards, been more heated. And, yet, she knew, it would not have been as wonderful as this had. She thought about Sheldon's face as he entered her and again after he climaxed, concentrating on it in hopes of never forgetting it. In the dim light of the library, she would never had seen that so clearly.

"You're smiling. I'll take that as a good sign," Sheldon said as he walked across the room. Amy allowed herself to look this time, at his naked form, taking in all the details she'd missed early. Well, not all of them, of course.

She grinned at him as he got back into bed. It had not occurred to her until that moment that she had never covered up, that she had been lying there, smiling and naked, not chilled at all anymore although there were goosebumps on her skin. Now, outside of the act of love, she blushed.

"Why the blush?" he asked, curling up close to her.

"I just realized I'm still naked. You can see everything."

"Ah," he kissed her, "yes, you can."

Something about made Amy snigger, and Sheldon silenced her with another kiss, one that started a bit silly but surprised Amy when it deepened. And then, while her heart rate started increasing from the warmth of his open mouth, Sheldon brushed the inside of her thigh.

"Sheldon?" she asked, pushing him away slightly. "Already?"

He smiled but shook his head slightly. "No, not that. You need time to recover. As do I." He paused and his face became more serious. "With your permission, I'd like to make up for what I could not do earlier. Don't worry, I thoroughly washed my hands."

"But I thought it was already, um, over, I guess," she stumbled for the words.

"I do not intend to only receive, Amy. I want to give to you. But if you don't want me to touch you, if you're too sore, I won't."

"No. It's okay."

It would be a lie for Amy to claim she had never imagined those long fingers, those hands, touching her as they did now. Of course, she could not see it, but she had no difficulty seeing it in her mind, the way they swiped and twirled and danced, rocking gently when needed, shying away from areas still too sensitive when she flinched. Those hands, with their slender digits and soft pads caressed her slowly, finding the spots that ached for them. Sheldon watched her closely, but his gaze didn't seem like staring. He gauged her every reaction and responded to it with unspoken grace.

Then, at last, Amy could not long keep her eyes open as the wave of warmth spread from her inside out, and she cried sharply into the morning, Sheldon's cheek brushing against hers.

She had barely come down from her high, when Sheldon rolled with her, placing her head on his chest as he kissed the top of her hair. They lay in silence, Amy gathering her breath and her strength, Sheldon running his fingers through her tangled tresses.

Finally, Sheldon said softly, "It will be better next time."

"Different, not better," Amy replied.

"This is not an unrealistic romance novel, my love. It will last longer, we'll work on synchronization, I'll be able to -"

"Shhh," Amy interrupted him, lifting her head to look at him. "This was our first edition. Full of typos and printers errors, but priceless."

"You've been reading too much Jane Austen," he said, but it was with a smile.

"You're the one who's been reading it," she reminded him as she lowered her head. "I've decided what itinerary I want, I just devised it myself."

"And what would be?"

"The one in which we spend the most time in bed, discussing mythology and books."

Sheldon yawned against her scalp. "How do you know that isn't sub-itinerary number nineteen?"

THE END

Thank you so much for reading and for your support! If you're interested, I am on Instagram [handle: aprilinparisfanfic] sharing TBBT love, story teasers, and general bookish delights. Once again, this story would not be possible without the impeccable proof-reading skills of my beta, Melissa.

Thank you for all your reviews!