The Glory Of Spock
Sheldon walked in his door and froze. Something wasn't right. His eyes searched the room, and landed on Penny.
Sitting in his spot, in a blue shirt, and short blue skirt, curls cascading over her shoulders as she flipped through a magazine.
"Penny. You're in my spot."
She looked up at him.
Paused.
Raised an eyebrow, and held up her hand in the vulcan sign of greeting. "It IS the best spot in the room." She reminded him.
His hands grasped the strap of his messenger bag firmly, as he stood rooted to the spot. "It's my spot." he repeated.
She flipped another page. "Logically speaking, possession is nine tenths of the law." she replied in a flat monotone.
His entire left side twitched. "Penny."
"Yes Sheldon?"
"What are you doing?"
"Practising my Vulcan behaviour." She replied calmly, turning another page.
"You're in my spot."
"Yes."
"Stop doing that with your eyebrow." He ordered, starting to sweat.
Her gaze returned to his. "Why?"
"Because you shouldn't." He said lamely, wondering why his feet weren't retreating to the safety of the hall and why his pulse jumped every time she lifted her eyebrow, and why, for the love of Spock, she wasn't getting out of his spot.
"I fail to see your logic." She intoned. "Present your case."
He gaped at her, and stammered, and then...
The door swung open behind him catching him in the head, and he was down on the floor out cold.
"Whoops sorry." Called a voice from out in the hall. "Didn't know the door wasn't latched." Steps thundered down the stairs.
"Clumsy oaf." Penny muttered, crossing to Sheldon hurriedly. She knelt over him, there wasn't any blood, but there was a bit of a lump, maybe she should call an ambulance?
He shifted, and his eyes popped open, focusing on her. "Penny?"
She raised an eyebrow, and gave the hand sign of the Vulcan. "How many Vulcans do you see?"
"Two." He muttered, his hand reaching up into her hair.
"Two?" The eyebrow went higher, along with his pulse.
"Yeah." He tugged on her head, and lifted his own, kissing her lightly. "You and I."