SUMMARY: In which particules and atomes are replaced by serial killers and crime scenes. Penny sure as hell wasn't expecting to become the Watson to some deranged genius with a Sherlock complex when she first moved to California - but Sheldon Cooper certainly looks good in that hat.
The Watson Implementation
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| i never make a sound
fingers crossed i shut my mouth |
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There are at least ten police cars as she pulls up, the red of her truck seeming frivolous so close to the white cars.
Penny yawns – because it's just too damn early to be near a crime scene. Her thermos is filled to the brim with coffee. It's always filled. It's the only way she keeps up with the random hours and the late nights.
She only has herself to blame. She kills the engine of her car, yawning again, grabbing her thermos and making her way out of the car and onto the streets of Pasadena.
Usually, it's a busy district. She would know because it's not that far from her gym or that bakery that sales those really good donuts. More importantly, it's three streets away from her own apartment.
Men in uniform swarm around her. She pushes her sunglasses off of her face like some actor from a bad police sitcom. The yellow tape doesn't stop her and she crouches easily underneath it, coming up on the other side.
It's sad – that she can't remember a time where police tape and crime scenes weren't an integral part of her life. Her eighteen-year-old self would probably gawk, mortified at her. Penny moved here to become an actress, not to play nice with some police officers.
"Hey, Pen." Leonard Hofstadter is, for all intents and purposes, a nice guy. He also happens to have a huge crush on her, one that still remains after six years. He looks up from his clipboard, sending a stiff smile her way. "He sent you first again, didn't he?" Penny blows a strand of hair away from her face.
"You know he did." There was a time, long ago, where she wasn't on a first name basis with most of the LAPD. Now, she doesn't even have to flash her made up badge. Sure, their eyes trail after her, wary, because if she's here – it means that he isn't far behind. Most of the people don't have a problem with her.
"Poor fellow." She takes a sip of coffee as if there isn't a man lying in a pool of his own blood by her feet. Even before, Penny had never been particularly sensitive to the blood and gore. Sure, she didn't particularly enjoy it – she wasn't as much of a freak as her boss.
But she'd never thought she'd be one of those people who could easily push away the thought of a murdered man so easily out of her head, that one day blood and death would be a daily ritual to her.
"It's the fourth one in two weeks. No one wants to say it, but I think we have a serial killer on our hands." She lets out an exasperated sigh, not liking the thought one bit. It means more work for her.
"Why would someone go around axing people for no reason?" What she really wants to find is a motive. So far, there are four dead bodies with no link whatsoever. It just doesn't add up and she hates it.
It's one thig to watch murder investigations on the television – she really used to love Law and Order – but it's another one entirely to have them smack you in the face. Penny makes a face as Leonard continues scribbling away. She doesn't need to ask the cause of death. Even from where she's standing, she can the slash across the man's main carotid artery.
Besides, it's the same MO as the other three. Obviously, he was killed right where he's standing. She's not blood spatter analyst, but no one can fake that amount of blood. The poor bastard probably didn't even die from the hit, mostly he just drowned in the blood.
She wonders if the killer waits for them to be dead before he vanishes into thin air. Does he watch as they take their last breath? Or does he simply walk away, a sardonic smile on his face knowing what he's done. Questions like these are what occupy her thoughts these days.
Penny used to believe that there were only two types of people in the world – the good and the bad. But after six years, her views had shifted. Sometimes, people killed out of love or even hate. At the worst of times, she found herself feeling pity and even compassion for those she hunted.
The world isn't black and white. From where she's standing, it's a blurry gray that blends into her daily life.
"When are you moving the body?" Leonard pushes the pen back behind his ear and sends her his usual smile. Their relationship is an odd one. She's never spent much time with him outside of work, but Penny's sure that if they had to have a casual conversation about something else, they wouldn't find common ground.
Still, he's nice.
"Soon now. I'm guessing they're done with the picture. Besides, the cleaning crew will be in soon." He pauses for a second and bites his lip, a slow grin spreading on his face. "Can't have that much disturbance in such a public area." Penny nods.
Now, whenever she walks down the street, she'll always have that image etched on the back of her mind. Her thoughts are interrupted brutally, the commotion causing both her and Leonard to look up at the same time.
Penny's eyes narrow, her mouth curving upwards. He always comments on how sardonic she is with him – she always answers that if he had to work with himself, he'd understand.
"Looks like he's here. I'll see you later, Bernadette should have the autopsy ready in a few hours." She waves as he walks away, her eyes never straining from the tall figure who has just crossed the yellow tape and is weaving his way towards her.
His blue eyes meet hers in a second. His form becoming more and more clear as he walks in his usual steady pace. She knows that man by heart. She hates to admit it. He's become sort of a fever she can't sweat out.
"Did you find anything?" She rolls her green eyes, used to his lack of politeness in everything. His eyes trail to the body on the ground, taking in every bit of details.
"Top of the morning to you too." Her fake British accent pours out of her, sarcasm oozing out of every word. He's always so stoic and detached. When she first met him, she hated that about him. Now, well most of her thoughts on the man are hazy.
He sends her a look, the kind he always gives her when she has that attitude with him. He should be used to it by now, really. After all, it's been six years.
"Witnesses?" He never answers to her jabs when on the job. But when it's just the two of them holed up in his apartment, he has absolutely no difficulty poking fun at her. He always has a certain air about him whenever he's placed before a crime – she can see it in the way his pupils dilate and his cheeks are stained red.
He enjoys every single second of this. Penny often wonders what he'll do with himself if ever people stop killing – she imagines him knitting. He knows how. There's a pair of mittens in her apartment that proves it.
"Do you have to ask?" He sends her the look again and she sighs. "Same MO as the first three. No witnesses and time of death is roughly around four thirty AM. But there still hasn't been an autopsy. Multiple axe wounds, but I'm guessing the cause of death is drowning in his own blood."
"When are they preforming the autopsy?" He's looking at her now, blue eyes taking her in like they always do.
"Leonard said it'd be a couple of hours. But with Bernadette it won't take that long." The petite blonde is very efficient with a scalpel and always gives an exuberate amount of unnecessary details. But she recounts it all with her sweet, squeaky voice and sometimes Penny forgets that they are discussing dead bodies.
"That gives us plenty of times to interview the victim's relatives then." He turns his back on the man on the floor, discarding him easily. Penny sends a last glance towards the fellow on the floor. When she looks up, Sheldon's eyes are on her.
"After you." She adds with an edge to her voice, the usual amount of sarcasm in her words. It's easy to push Sheldon's buttons – it's easy and she enjoys it very much. She catches up to him, matches his usual pace.
A few seconds after they've both reached her car, a large white van pulls up carrying the entirety of the cleaning crew – it is, after all, a very bloody scene.
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Sheldon Cooper has the emotion range of a pea. She tells him that on many, many occasions – so many times that she can't count them anymore. It's why she's always the one who does the interviews with the relatives.
Penny hates precincts. She's never been arrested before and she spends a pathetic amount of time in them and yet they still make her uneasy. Sheldon always notices her discomfort and tells her that she should be used to it by now.
"I am not a robot like you, Sheldon." And the worst is – he can't see anything wrong with acting like a robot. Every aspect of his life is a series of planned machinations, down to his bowel movement. The only thing he can't control is her. Penny likes to think it's why he keeps her around. He secretly loves that she's a loose cannon.
He steps out of her car in his usual fashion, not once waiting for her. She used to be bothered by that, but after six years, she doesn't even bat an eyelash. Her thermos in hand, she trails after him a minute later.
She used to be the kind of girl who spent extra-time in the morning getting ready. She'd put on her eyeliner with great care and always planned her outfit carefully, conscious that she always had to look her best.
Six years later, as pushes the door of the precinct, she catches her reflection and sighs. Her life is all about comfortable jeans and dress shirts nowadays. She looks professional, but approachable. And her heels are all stacked in her closet, just waiting to be worn. But she can't walk for hours in those, her black ankle boots the one she reaches for the most.
Oddly enough, it's Sheldon who buys them for her. For someone so out of touch with fashion, he certainly knows how pick women's shoes. She's elated on her twentieth birthday when she opens the gift.
It's easy to forget he's such a pain in the ass in those little moments where he displays humanity.
"Oh look, it's Holmes and Watson." Howard is, as always, being his usual playful self. He grins at both of them, his eyes trailing to find hers. "Penny, you look as beautiful as always." She rolls her eyes.
"If you're done flirting with her, we have a case to get to." The short man glares at Sheldon. Howard Wolowitz is the last person on earth you would expect to work in a police department, especially because of his small stature. But he's smart, one of the best detectives here really – when his head isn't jammed up his ass.
Six years ago, it wasn't this easy for them to stroll into the department and demand answers. Sheldon, in all his genius, wasn't as well-known back then. Penny had had to work extra hard to make friends with everyone – she didn't have Sheldon's mind or his deductive reasoning to back her up.
But she had a nice smile and an easy-going persona. She had what Sheldon lacked – people skills.
"Oh yes, the Bart murder from this morning." Penny smiles at the man, even if he creeps her out most of time. His gaze turns darker and he's not so much of a creep when he's in full detective mood. "A wife, but no kids. The last she heard from her husband, he was on his way home from work. He never made it home." There's a file in his hand which he gives to Penny.
"Any known enemies?" It's easy to keep up with them. Howard leads them towards the interrogation room, Sheldon's stature just as stoic as it always is. Penny flips through the pages with one hand, her thermos in the other.
"Not that the wife knows of. We're still waiting for the man's car to turn up. He's the manager of some store down in the Pasadena mall. For all we know, he was just an average guy who was at the wrong place at the wrong time." Sheldon's eyes narrow – things are never as simple as they appear.
"Well there you go." All three stop in front of a metal door. "The wife is emotional, so I'd suggest Penny does most of talking – we can't have you scare her off." Penny nods her head while Sheldon eyes turn to slits. Howard sends a casual shrug both of their way and Penny knows that he'll be in the next room listening in. It's his case after all.
"No time like the present." Penny rolls her eyes, her stature turning rigid. Even after all these years, there's always a moment of hesitation.
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"It's different than Nebraska, I can tell you that." Penny is eighteen when she moves to Pasadena. The plan etched in her mind is painfully easy – move to LA and become a famous actress. But the day she moves in to apartment 4B of 2311 Los Robles, she's a waitress and not so famous.
Her phone slides slightly as she shuffles boxes through her new apartment. It's small and perfect for her. It's her very own apartment, her name the only one on the lease.
"Remember to be carefully, honey." Her mom is lovely, but she worries too much. Penny understands in a way. Her only son is cooking meth in their shed. But Penny is eighteen and ready to take on the world. "You don't know what kind of weirdos roam on the street there."
Penny snorts out of range of the receiver. As opposed to the weirdos in Omaha. Sure, the blonde loves her hometown, but she's ready for adventure and it's not in a corn field that she'll find it.
"Yes mom, I'll keep an eye out. And I'll be careful. Besides, no one can castrate a bull like I can." Her mother lets out a breathy laugh, the kind that isn't at all reassuring. "Anyways, I'll call you later. I have boxes to unpack." It's not that she doesn't love talking to her mother, but she really does need to unpack at some point.
Her mother finally makes her promise to call that night – five times and hangs up. Penny sighs and looks around at her apartment which doesn't look like much with all the boxes and furniture thrown about. Her front door is still wide open, the door not quite closing because of stuff blocking the way.
She practically jumps out of her skin when she notices the tall figure not so far from her in the hallway.
"Castrating a bull seems like an odd talent to have." Is what he says to her, eyes the deepest shade of blue she's ever come across. He's tall, over six feet and he's looking at her with curious interest, head cocked to the side as he takes her in.
She doesn't know it yet, but will find out soon enough. Once Sheldon Cooper is interested in something – he can't quite let go.
a/n: Why? Why won't these two leave my alone? Every time I re-watch the tiniest bit of the old TBBT episodes, I find myself thinking 'oh, well this could've happened' and I have to write it. Please pay in mind that I don't watch Sherlock Holmes, but plenty of Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple. And besides, Sheldon and Penny deserve their own brand of mystery solving. I have plenty of Shenny stories if you want to check them out. Let me know if some of you are interested in this story line - if I should continue it. I hope you enjoyed and drop a review if you have the time, I love those. Thanks for reading and till next time!
Disclaimer : I do not own TBBT.