The problem with being incredibly late to the Big Bang Theory Fanfiction party is that every prompt I run through my head has been kicked around three times over by the rest of the fandom (and usually in a brilliant and well-written way. There are some amazing writers in this fandom!). I usually discover this after I've already written something, which is, you know. Whatever. But still, I have an extremely guilty place in my heart for tropes and cliches and scene continuations, and I will probably keep writing them forever and ever.

Here is a perfect example. Remember way back in 3x18 when Sheldon put on that devilishly dashing suit and Penny basically jizzed in her pants on screen? I decided to elaborate on that scene a little.

Three ridiculous suits later, Sheldon finally emerges from the dressing room in the suit Penny chose for him, all angles and dark sophistication, and Penny is having difficulty gathering her jaw from the floor.

Men come in many shapes and sizes. Kurt, Penny's ex, looks best in a loincloth; Leonard, Penny's boyfriend, looks best in casual jeans and a t-shirt. His posture and demeanor are too poor for a suit; he slumps and whines and anything formal looks far too large and misshapen for his body. Sheldon, however...

The ridiculous layered superhero shirts and knaki pants had hidden it from her for three years. The man belongs in a well-fitted suit and tie. He has the confidence for it, the arrogance, the legs that go on for days and the narrow, slender form. Penny has a sudden horrible urge to grab him by the tie and pull him over to her.

"This is absurd. I look like a clown!"

Penny wants to slap him, he is so wrong. She frowns, comes back a little from the strange thoughts skittering around in her brain. "Sheldon, 'clown' describes all of your choices up to now. You look very... very..." She trails off.

"Very what?" It almost feels like he's looking for her approval; he'd seemed so downtrodden when she'd stomped all over his previous suits.

"Hot." The word escapes from her lips before she has to chance to swallow it. Oh, God, I'm objectifying Dr. Sheldon Cooper PhD, she thinks. Instant mortification. This is some awful level of Hell where my sexual orientation has betrayed me.

"I am rather warm," Sheldon says in agreement. "The suit jacket is thick and the slacks are itchy..."

For once, Penny is incredibly grateful for Sheldon's crappy knowledge of colloquialisms. "Whatever. You're buying this one. Trust me on this."

"I don't know..." Sheldon turns and glances at himself in the full-length mirror. "I thought the white suit was pretty sharp."

"Absolutely not." Penny plants a hand on his back and propels him toward the dressing room. She reminds herself not to follow him in. "You're getting this one. Hurry up and change."

"But I just put it on—"

"SHELDON."

Sheldon almost flinches a little. Almost. "All right, all right."

The night of the banquet arrives, and Sheldon's nervousness is putting them all a little on edge.

"We have a half hour," Leonard says worriedly, glancing at his watch. Penny wants to burn his choice of clothing for the evening, along with the plaid abomination that she knows is neatly tucked away somewhere in the far reaches of Sheldon's closet. But she's tried fixing Leonard's problem before, to no avail. The problem isn't the clothes; the problem is Leonard.

So Penny pats him on the chest, gives him a half-hearted smile, and then saunters down the hallway toward Sheldon's room.

"Sweetie, are you ready?" she asks the closed door.

No response.

She tries the doorknob which turns easily in her hand. Sheldon is perched on the edge of his bed, fully dressed with his tie draped around his neck. He looks absolutely dejected.

"I don't know if I can do this, Penny," he mumbles, not looking up at her.

Penny feels something twinge inside her. "Are you worried that you're going to faint?"

"Yes." He chuckles bitterly. "How ridiculous is it that I, of all people, find it absolutely impossible to speak in front of crowds?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure I get it either," Penny says. She takes a seat next to him on the bed and begins fiddling with his tie. "But really, I don't think you have any reason to worry. You're going to be surrounded by friends and colleagues; nobody there will be evaluating you or anything like that. There's no reason to be afraid."

"I know that. But, strangely, it doesn't change the way I feel."

Penny loops the tie into a neat Windsor and edges the knot upward. Her fingers brush against his fluttering pulse as she pushes it into place. "There." She tries to give him an encouraging smile. "If it helps any, the suit looks great. Just don't slouch. Right now you look like Leonard."

A little smile tickles the edges of Sheldon's mouth. "He does have a chronic slouching problem. Low self-esteem I suspect."

Penny sighs. She doesn't want to talk about Leonard, not with Sheldon, not right now. "Come on, Moonpie, let's get this over with."

The champagne seems like a great idea, at the time. What Penny doesn't take into account is Sheldon's ridiculously low alcohol tolerance. A light buzz would have made him chatty and kept him from passing out on stage; half a bottle apparently makes him moon an entire room filled with scientists.

Seeing rear Sheldon nudity isn't as jarring and frightening as Penny expects it to be (not that she'd thought about it before, not that seeing Sheldon in a suit had makes her wonder what he looks like out of a suit). He has kind of a cute butt, actually, for someone so skinny. Extreme second-hand embarrassment eventually worms its way through Penny's sudden appraisal, and she is immediately compelled to get him off of the stage.

"But I still have 972 amusing physics facts to share!" Sheldon whines as Penny latches onto him with one arm and grabs his pants with the other.

"I think you've reached your sharing quota for the evening," Leonard mutters from the other side of Sheldon.

He's not the only one, Penny thinks sourly.

Of course, Penny is given the job of dragging Sheldon off to the bathroom to make him presentable again (although she doesn't protest because this is sort of her fault, really), and as she's trying to straighten him up, he grins broadly and places a hand on her forearm.

"I didn't faint!" he proclaims proudly.

She does her best to ignore the burn of his fingertips. "No, but you did make an ass out of yourself. No pun intended."

"But I didn't faint!"

Penny shakes her head, but she can't stop the small smile creeping its way through her features. Sheldon's eyes are sly and bright, and Penny finds herself wondering if he didn't know this would happen all along. If he didn't simply need the excuse.

"Thank you, Penny," Sheldon murmurs, his voice suddenly serious and his body close to hers. The world tumbles haphazardly and Penny looks away. It's too much to acknowledge, too damning and worrying to meet his gaze.

"Has Sheldon regained his pants?" The question fills the room and Penny jumps. Leonard, poor clueless Leonard, wanders in with a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

"All pantsed up," Penny says quietly. She's aware that she's still standing too close to Sheldon, that his hand is still on her arm, but she can't seem to convince herself to turn away.

"Good. Is there any way that you can take him home, along with Raj? Howard and I are working on damage control, but it'd probably be best if the two drunks left the party early."

"Yeah, sure," Penny hears herself say. She risks a glance upward and feels Sheldon's grip on her arm tighten.

"Thanks." Leonard leans forward for a kiss, and suddenly the moment is over. Sheldon's hand flutters away and Penny has to remind herself to kiss Leonard back when he touches his lips to hers. "I'll see you later."

Penny nods and watches him go. She catches a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror and is struck by the sadness in her eyes, by the expression on Sheldon's face and the intensity of his gaze.

The fire of his fingers and the sting of his eyes stay with her as she heads for the door.