"These are not Meemaw's cookies!" The offending pastry went flying across the room.
"Sheldon, honey..."
"Don't try to coerce me with your blandishments. This is a deliberate deception on your part. Only Meemaw can make Meemaw's cookies! You lied to me!" Sheldon's voice rose higher with each angry accusation. He glared at his wife, who sat with her head bowed, her hair falling like a curtain and obscuring her face. It was only when he saw the tear slide down her cheek that he realized he had messed up once again. Instantly contrite, he silently castigated himself for his insensitivity.
"I've hurt your feelings, haven't I?" he asked softly. "For what it's worth, I apologize."
Penny sat up, pushed her hair out of her face, and wiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I'm not crying because you yelled. You know me better than that. You're right; baking cookies for you can't bring Meemaw back, and I know it. I just wanted you to feel like she was still a part of our Christmas, even though she's gone. She was the most amazing woman, and I miss her too."
Sheldon stared blankly at her for a moment. He had no idea how he had ever been so lucky. If his Meemaw were still here, she would tell him that Penny was the most amazing woman in his life. She wasn't focused on her own feelings at all. Instead, her tears were for his pain. He pulled his wife close and wrapped his arms around her. "If I didn't have a Meemaw like her, I never would have realized that the people I love the most are nothing like me. You are so kind and patient with me, and you never hold my peculiarities against me. You always put my best interests ahead of your own. I'm sorry I overreacted. I don't need cookies to be reminded of Meemaw, because every day, you love me just like she did."
Penny angled her body toward him rather awkwardly, put her arms around his neck, and gave him a seductive smile. "I love it when you say you're sorry. Somehow, coming from you, it means even more than you saying you love me."
He looked down and rested a hand gently on her rounded stomach. "That's good, because I owe you another apology. I should not have raised my voice in anger. That isn't the tone of voice I want my son or daughter to associate with me."
Penny's face was already very close to his. She only had to raise her chin a little to kiss him back. "You're going to be a great dad as long as you keep on practicing those three words I taught you."
Sheldon only twitched a little at her faulty assertion and managed to stop himself from informing her that "I'm sorry", "please" and "thank you" were five words, not three. Instead, he brushed his lips against hers in a soft caress.
"I'm sorry I got upset when you were only trying to make me feel better," he murmured in a low voice. He stood, pulling her to stand pressed tightly against him, as much as her pregnant belly would allow. She giggled as the baby chose that moment to kick as if he (or she) was aware of the love between them.
"Thank you for making Meemaw's cookies for me as my Christmas Eve gift," he whispered, kissing her more deeply until her knees buckled and she clung to him for support. She sighed contentedly as he grazed the sensitive spot behind her ear with his teeth. This was all she really wanted for Christmas: knowing that Sheldon was hers, now and forever. Their path to true love had been a rocky one, with many obstacles that had to be overcome, but it had been worth it. Both of them had learned to conquer their fears and rid themselves of toxic elements in their life, and finally they were where they belonged: together.
As if he could read her thoughts, Sheldon whispered in her ear, "Let me take you to bed. I want to spend all night showing you how much I love you." Penny gave a startled gasp as he scooped her up in his arms. She ran a hand appreciatively over the muscles in his arm as he carried her down the hallway toward their bedroom. It hadn't escaped her notice that he had started working out, and now she knew why.
He grinned at her. "Any Texan worth his salt should be able to carry his wife over the threshold. I may not have been able to do that on our wedding night, but hopefully this will make up for it." He reached their bedroom and kicked the door shut as he walked through it with Penny still in his arms. She moaned appreciatively. Having Sheldon pick her up and carry her off to bed was so sexy, she might just have him make it a nightly habit. He bent over to lay her gently on their bed, and she snagged the collars of his double-layered tees and pulled him down on top of her.
She sighed in luxurious anticipation. "Yup, I'm definitely going to get you into bed," she purred into his ear as she nipped at his earlobe. It was a running joke between the two of them.
He looked at her seriously for a moment. "I love you, Penny. You are the only Christmas present I need."
She smiled tenderly up at him. "I think this is where that reciprocal stuff comes in, because I feel exactly the same way. Merry Christmas, my love."
A/N: I've been known to call my husband "Sheldon" on occasion, especially when he's being ... particular. And one thing I've learned over the years is that only his Mamie can make Mamie's cookies, and nobody else. Not me, not his mother... no one but Mamie. Her daughters can have the recipe when they pry it from her cold, dead hands, and even then, it won't be exactly the recipe she uses. That's right: whatever recipe she has written down will be deliberately wrong in some small way, so that no one will ever be able to exactly reproduce Mamie's cookies. So when I saw season seven's Christmas episode (or at least a clip of it on Youtube), I wanted to throw something at the screen. The Sheldon we all came to know and love would never accept cookies that someone else made with Meemaw's recipe as Meemaw's cookies, much less call them perfect. And that's where this little snippet came from.