Longtime reader, first time submission to this fandom. I'd have to say the BBT fandom had some of the most well-written stories I've seen. This is an alternate universe, one where Penny tried to become an actress but failed, and Sheldon became a baker instead of a physicist.
Chapter 1 - Measure
Penny Lane glanced over the newly renovated bakery. The walls were perfectly painted (eggshell white, not pearl, and definitely not cream, yes I can see a difference Mr. Contractor!). State of the art blenders, stainless steel ovens and the best tools she could afford were neatly hung around the kitchen. The gleaming countertop had not a speck of dust upon it.
"Dreams" was fully functional, ready and able to make the most delicious, mouthwatering cakes in the city of California. There was just one problem.
Why weren't there any customers?
She gnawed on her lower lip anxiously. This had to work. It just had to.
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Penny had barely been making minimum wage at the Cheesecake Factory when a snarky low tipping customer had pushed her over the edge.
She'd locked herself in her tiny apartment for a weekend, ready to drink herself into a stupor. Maybe even catch a night at a loud club with delectable eye-candy. An evening like that would certainly pick her up.
It wasn't meant to be.
Even fate wouldn't cooperate with her to drown out her sorrows. There wasn't a drop of alcohol in her apartment, and contrary to the western state's perfect weather, the skies had sought to rain cats and dogs instead. Rummaging around the empty cupboards, the only item that met her eyes was a simple box of cake-mix she had bought one day in preparation for a pot-luck she had never attended.
Sighing in regret, at least it was something to do. The box didn't take very many ingredients: an egg or two, some water and vegetable oil. A slightly spilled box of flour and a broken egg later, the girl had everything contained in her biggest kitchen bowl. Every beat of the metal whisk in her white knuckled fingers transferred her frustrations to the batter. From her dead end career (oh, it's another blonde, can you sing?), her failed relationship (sorry babe, I want to pursue other options), to just the sheer emptiness of her life, it all went into the sunny yellow batter.
It was as if her entire soul was cleansed by the time she popped the whole confection into the oven.
As it baked, Penny watched the sweet mound rise in surprising anticipation. It was a treat, made by her own hands, an honest effort.
Yes, the edges were a little brown, and the cake lopsided, but edible all the same. Penny couldn't find any actual frosting, but a sprinkling of sugar makes everything go down.
She had felt reinvigorated and passionate for the first time in her life.
That's what started the bug. Immediately she began scouring the internet for recipes – chocolate, sponge, cream. It was new and different, something she had actual talent in.
A few weeks later, and a few trial and errors, she bit the bullet and bought a homemade mini-cake for a co-worker's birthday at the Cheesecake Factory.
"Penny, this is good!"
"You think so?" her emerald eyes lit up in happiness.
Back in the present, fingers drumming on the countertop, Penny sat contemplating her dilemma.
Her father had his doubts when he helped with the down payment. "Are you sure about this, slugger?"
Her mom smiled tightly, "It's her dream, sweetheart."
Her older sister shook her head with resignation as she bounced her son on her hip.
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Penny frowned. She wanted to escape the sticks of Nebraska, not be knocked up and married (in that order) like her sister and so many others in her high school class. She had the loan, begged for with a pretty smile and estimated economic earnings, the building, and the equipment.
So why didn't she have any customers?
She groaned and blew her golden bangs away with an exasperated huff.
A tingle of bells hung by the door caught her attention.
Finally! She fought the urge to do a fist bump in the air. Someone up there must be listening to her.
The man was tall and skinny. Not the typical type you'd see visiting a bakery. A mess of short cropped dark brown hair, a wide face with long arms and legs, he looked like a praying mantis. A praying mantis who wore two shirts in California. Who knows? Maybe he was buying a cake for a girlfriend.
"How clean is this facility? Are you FDA regulated?"
Nope, definitely no girlfriend. There was no way this stick-in-the-mud had any frequent contact with a girl besides his mother.
But she'd do anything to get a customer.
After submitting her credentials and even a brief walkthrough of her kitchen, the whack-a-doodle, as she so dubbed him, found the conditions adequate to sit down. Well, he sat down after trying four different tables. "Goldilocks" perused the menu with a condescending sneer.
"I'll have a slice of chocolate cake," and with a sniff, the man opened his laptop and buried himself in his work.
Penny knew a dismissal when she saw one. Putting on her best smile, those acting lessons hadn't been for naught, she turned back to prepare his order.
A quick slice of the triple chocolate cake in the back, a dollop of homemade whipped cream, she placed her offering like a slave appeasing an angry god with a clack upon the only occupied table. He was still engrossed in his work.
"Are you one of those Beautiful Mind, genius guys?" she queried in curiosity. Penny couldn't understand a single word on his screen. Something about viscosities and heat transfer equations.
The man's bright, blue eyes blinked in astonishment. "Yeah."
It was a clear invitation for conversation, but the anti-social man merely immersed himself again towards the bright glare of the screen.
Penny sighed. There was no getting to this guy. She tried to give him a cup of coffee, but he had screeched and nearly had a conniption.
"When I moved to California, I promised my mother I wouldn't start doing drugs!"
Again, following a strict series of instructions, she prepared a cup of chamomile tea to accompany his dessert. It was better anyway. Coffee would probably make him into a greater pain-in-the-butt than he already was. The caffeine would probably make him into that superhero, what's-his-name, who could run fast. Penny couldn't help but to smile at the slight southern twang in his voice when he rebuked her earlier.
Her mother called, and Penny chatted with her as she slid the cup and the check to her only customer. She swore she felt his electric blue eyes on her as she argued with her mother, but the moment she turned her way, his face was back on his laptop.
He paid in cash, leaving exactly a 15% tip. The man gathered his things efficiently and without a single goodbye was out the door.
As Penny was bussing the table, she noticed he had scribbled something on her comment card. Delighted, she picked up the cheery yellow card stamped with a simple flower.
Your cakes are terrible.
This story was inspired by a TVB drama called The Gateau Affairs. Penny mixing away her worries in batter was taken from a quote about washing rice said by Roy Chei. Spot the Mary Poppins reference. I wrote their first meeting around Sheldon's and Penny's first on the show, back when hew as a little more human.
Hope you enjoyed the introduction. Please review,
Grignard