Written for the Season 3 countdown: 39 DAYS!
I'm kind of proud of myself because I've been playing with this idea for over a week, then finally sat down to write it, and was satisfyingly done in an hour. Best thing I've written so far I think. Hope you like it as much as I do. Enjoy!
Title: The Penny Perception (aka The Six Senses of Penny)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1059
Spoilers: I guess for "Pilot" (seriously?), "Bath Item Gift Hypothesis", and "Monopolar Expedition"
Summary: Over time, Sheldon discovers Penny in many senses.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, all of gwendy's stories would be episodes, and we would be canon! But alas, I don't…so close…
Sight
The first "sense" in which Sheldon Cooper knew Penny was sight. She was clearly beautiful by modern Western standards of beauty, and he knew from the very beginning that Leonard would make many a foolish attempt to "get with her", as Wolowitz would say.
So he kept his observations to himself: studying in his own time the probable number of shades of blonde in her hair, musing over the possibility that her tresses had the physiological capability of actually retaining, and then emitting pure sunlight. He tried to approximate the percentage of "sun-kissed" tan on her skin that was from overexposure to UV rays in California, versus what was a result of her Omaha heritage. His attempts to identify the hexadecimal coding for her emerald eyes failed regularly.
Dr. Cooper soon discovered that the "sight" of Penny could simply not be quantified scientifically. Instead, he accepted the fact that he would surely never see a woman look as stunning as Penny did the day the three neighbors met (only to be proven wrong every time he saw her after that).
Sound
From only the first few words that Sheldon heard leave Penny's mouth, he could already identify her as an escapee of the country life, like him. The slightest twang in her voice gave him a sudden rush of homesickness, and later, comfort. In fact, once he discovered it became particularly prominent when she was angry, he would often instigate her wrath just to hear it.
Her singing was a completely different matter. After he heard her belting it out on the stairway, he was certain it was an experience he'd never want again. Yet her rendition of "Soft Kitty" soothed him, right down to his core. And her participation in singing sea chanteys made their time together fly by (metaphorically of course).
One month into his Arctic expedition, Sheldon found himself very homesick. It took all his willpower (and a fear of ridicule he didn't know he had) to resist requesting Penny sing to him during their weekly Skype chats. So, until September, his ingrained and never-fading memory of the night he spent in her apartment was all he had to lull him to sleep each evening.
Smell
When his friends suggested he reciprocate Penny's Christmas gift with a basket of bath items, Sheldon bit back his comment that Penny did not need such items. Her hygiene, while probably not as rigorous as his, was above par. And though her laundry habits were questionable, she never smelled unpleasant.
In fact, he had noted on several occasions the aroma of vanilla and honey wafting from his neighbor's direction. When he walked into the bath item shop, his overwhelmed olfactory sense made him long for the gentle scent of Penny's hair, the occasional lavender mist she left in her wake…
But something inside him told him not to voice his concerns, and instead he went over to ask a nearby employee for her personal suggestion on his selection.
Touch
The first time Sheldon attempted to sincerely "hug" Penny (or anyone for that matter), it was awkward. He could tell. His lanky and inexperienced limbs bent at odd angles as he tried to embrace her slight frame. Her astonishment at the action didn't give him any indication of what to do next, so he continued to hold her.
Later he would attempt to convince himself that it was the euphoria connected with receiving the DNA of his idol. But he could not rid his memory of the pleasure he felt when holding Penny. His traitorous mind recalled the satisfying give of her body, the warmth radiating from her skin, the softness of her hair against his left cheek.
He also blamed the highly-emotional environment in which the "hug" occurred as the reason his own body and mind seemed to crave that experience again.
Taste
He had expected her to taste like alcohol. Not that he ever gave the matter any thought (not that he would admit to, anyways). But given Penny's drinking habits, he'd always assumed any residue flavor her mouth might contain would be alcohol-based.
When Penny suddenly kissed him one day, she proved him wrong. It was the middle of January, and he had been enjoying a Discovery Channel documentary on symbiosis, when she trudged into his apartment, soaking wet with rain. She ignored his cringe when she plopped down next to him on the couch. It was when she rested her damp head on his shoulder that he shifted his gaze and attention to her. She in turn looked up into his eyes, and suddenly…
It was the sweetest taste he had ever known, comparable only to what he would imagine the nectar diet of the Greek gods would be like. Her soft lips promised bliss, and he was so lost in Penny that he almost didn't notice when she slowly pulled away.
It made no logical or biological sense, but Sheldon suddenly felt that without the taste of Penny, he would surely die of starvation.
Penny
Sheldon never put much thought or belief into the idea of a "sixth sense". Until Penny.
There was indeed a sixth sense that he had only become aware of lately. The sense of knowing. Knowing Penny. Learning more and more about her every aspect, in every sense. Knowing she was there for him, with him. Knowing that someone would allow him to be his neurotic self, but also knowing that someone would be willing to challenge him if he tried to cross the line.
It was this sense that calmed him the first morning he awoke to find her in his arms, both of them bare and satisfied.
It was this sense that found him knocking softly on her door after an argument, and this sense that gave him the strength to apologize.
It would be, many years from now, this same sense that would make him pour over websites on finding the perfect engagement ring: one with the proper balance of fashion, sentimentality, and visual price tag (though he had decided before his search began that his personal price cap was nonexistent for this particular purchase).
And it would be this sense that would inspire in him the first spark of fatherly pride, as he held a beautiful hours-old baby girl he could hardly believe was his.
~end~
A/N: The wonderful Gwendy did an art piece inspired by this fic! I'm so super honored, its ridiculous! Check out the link in my profile.