A/N: So I was writing something completely different (Dr. Horrible AU, watch for it soon), but then I watched the Egg Salad Equivalency and Alex listens to Sheldon's sleeptalking.

And after my Somniloquy fic how could I pass up this opportunity to write from Alex's POV?

I wrote this while watching The Two Towers, so if it shows...I'm not sorry. XD

I categorized this as Shenny because I ship Shenny and it has hints of it here. The last time I posted a Shenny-hinting story with the actual main character(s) (the other somniloquy fic, actually) I got some really nasty hate, so from now on if it deals with Shenny it's going in the Shenny, rather than the actual characters category. *Puts on the Tenth Doctor's 3D glasses* Deal with it.

I don't own TBBT, or even a pair of old school 3D glasses. I do, however, own Harry Potter RealD 3D glasses and The Hobbit 3D glasses.

Alex settled into her apartment with a glass of wine and her boss's sleeptalk recordings for the last week. If she was going to spend her Saturday night listening to Dr. Cooper speak, she was going to try to enjoy herself. One glass might not be enough, she thought and brought the bottle with her to the couch.

So far all he talks about in his sleep are his weird little fantasy dreams in which he apparently goes by Sheldor. Now Alex liked fantasy as much as the next girl, but the thought of Dr. Cooper weilding longsword in one hand and a fireball in the other made her both want to laugh hysterically and shiver in fear. She knew what he was like (crazy, neurotic, conceited, etc), but she also knew he was a scary smart genius and could probably take over the world if he put his mind and resources to it.

Ear buds in her ear, she turned on her iPod, sat on the middle of her couch, and put her feet up on the coffee table. Setting the speed at .2x (because if she didn't this night would literally take a week), she pushed play, starting with Sunday night.

Something about orcs and trebuchets, and a "Defend the walls, men!" Every once in a while he'd say fire, and she wasn't sure if someone was on fire or if he was telling archers to fire arrows, but by the sound of things it could be either or both.

Ok, nothing scientific for Sunday then. Skip to Monday night. Apparently they watched The Avengers again, because he was Loki here. All kinds of cocky and basically Dr. Cooper if he were an evil Norse god. Go figure.

It seemed that Tuesday was silent. She clicked for the seek feature and fast-forwarded through. Half way through there was a blip of speech so small she almost missed it, so she backpedaled and pushed play. It was softer than the rest of his words, but even at this speed there was no mistaking it.

"Penny."

She double checked, but the rest of the track was silent.

Kay, I'm gonna ignore that one, then. Treat it as an anomaly.

Wednesday night was much like Sunday in that there was a battle, but this one was obviously Halo-oriented rather Middle Earth. Things like plasma grenades and needlers and whatever a warthog was. Penny was mentioned again, though from what Alex understood Dr. Cooper utilized Penny's Halo skills as often as he could, so it was to be expected.

Alex was halfway through her second glass of wine when Thursday came on. It seemed like every other phrase he uttered was in Chinese. She looked a couple of the words up and figured he must've watched a Firefly marathon, as he had apparently called someone a frog humping son of a bitch. The dream ended, or changed, or something, but the rest of the night was silent.

Friday was a whirl of science, but nothing she could deem as earth-shattering. She wrote it down anyway, just as he'd asked. Maybe it'd jog something in his mind, you never knew.

She saw Saturday, but then saw the date and realized she should've listened to it first. It was from the preceding Saturday.

An hour of silence, then a soft, breathy "Penny."

Surprised, Alex pressed pause, eyes wide. No, surely not. Hesitantly, she pressed play again. His breathing increased, then he moaned softly again. "Penny."

Alex ripped the ear buds out of her ears, almost spilling the last of her wine in her attempt to get away from the sound of her boss moaning in her ears. That was not something she ever wanted to hear. She wasn't sure she'd be able to look at him the same way again, but she had to. And she couldn't let him know about it. What if he didn't know, himself? Sometimes people don't remember dreams. Surely if he had remembered his dream that night he wouldn't have let her listen to his sleeptalk.

Then it was settled. She would stop drinking wine while listening to her boss's sleep log, and she wouldn't let him know that she'd heard him...dreaming about someone who wasn't his girlfriend.

I don't know how much longer I can keep up with this job.