Disclaimer: I don't own The Big Bang Theory or it's characters.

Season 6, Episode 10
Alternate Episode

A Friend In Need

Amy looked Sheldon up and down and frowned. "I don't see why you can't always wear a suit like that..."

Sheldon held his arms out and gave himself a once-over. He had to admit, he did look quite the image of dashing, but the suit paled in comparison to the comfort of his usual garb. He straightened himself up and sighed. "That still didn't answer my question."

"I'm sorry, what was it again?"

"Do I look appropriate to go to this funeral with Penny?"

"Oh, absolutely. You look..." Amy shuttered, looking him over again. "You look stunning."

Sheldon slumped in exasperation. "I don't need to look stunning, Amy. I need to look presentable for a funeral."

"You are, Sheldon." Amy walked away from him and made her way to the kitchen area of her apartment, opening the door to the refrigerator to retrieve a bottle of water. "I still don't see why Leonard couldn't have gone."

"He's sick," Sheldon answered simply. "I'm not."

"I would have went with her. I'm her bestie."

"If you didn't have to be at work in half an hour, you mean," he added. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a funeral to attend."

. . .

. . .

Knock, knock, knock. "Penny."

Knock, knock, knock. "Penny."

Sheldon stopped himself. "Oh, right. Funeral." He did his last three signature knocks and said more morosely, in a lower tone, "...Penny."

The door opened. Before him stood Penny clad in a short, light purple bathrobe with her hair disheveled and dark circles under her eyes. "Hey."

"I'm not allowed to wear my Silver Surfer necktie, but you can wear a bathrobe?"

Penny sighed. "Sheldon, I think I'm too sick to go to the funeral."

"You're sick? You poor kid." He looked down for a moment of thought, then spun away, saying, "Well, see ya."

Penny shook her head and shut the door behind him. Sheldon began walking back across the hall to his apartment, when suddenly he stopped. Before when he had been sick, Penny had taken care of him – twice. The first time, Leonard and the others avoided him like a plague and duped her into caring for him. She did everything she was supposed to do – tucked him into bed, rubbed VapoRub on his chest (counter-clockwise with the swirl of his chest hair, of course), and even sang him Soft Kitty. The second time was Valentine's Day. She was sick, too, and still made sure he had blankets and made him chicken soup (with the little stars, heated to 180 degrees – or close enough). Though, granted, he was sick because of her...she still did the right thing and took care of his needs before her own.

What kind of friend would Sheldon Cooper be if he just left her in her apartment to battle this on her own?

He promptly turned, walked back to her door, and raised his fist.

Knock, knock, knock. "Penny."

Knock, knock, knock. "Penny."

Knock, knock, knock. "Penny."

She opened the door, this time looking slightly more annoyed than before. Her voice was tired and cracked as she asked, "What, Sheldon?"

"You comforted me on both occasions I was sick when no one else would. And additionally, you are my friend, and I care about your well-being."

Penny's face softened and her mouth parted. "...Thank you, Sheldon."

"You're welcome." He paused. "Now let's get this over with."

He pushed his way past her and into her apartment.

Since acquiring female friends, Penny's apartment-keeping skills had improved ten-fold. Though, Sheldon and she had somewhat drifted apart since Amy came along, of the few times he had visited since then, the place had appeared presentable – a welcomed changed from the way it used to look.

But now as he walked in, he was greeted by the familiar images of clothes slung over the loveseat, plates of half-eat food on the coffee table covered in discarded candy wrappers, an empty bag of Lays lay on the counter among other dishes – one of her pillows was up there, for some reason, and a barrage of other clothes and odd items lay on the kitchen table as well as the chairs, on the end tables and her bookshelf, and some stuff even cluttered the floor. A tripping hazard to be sure.

He had so much work to do.

"Alright, lay down – oh, wait." Sheldon hastily grabbed the clothes from off the back of the loveseat and cleared it for her. "Alright, now lay down."

"What are you doing, Sheldon?"

"I'm trying to make you feel better," he said, disappearing into her room. He emerged moments later with the blanket from her bed. "What are you standing at the door for still? Lay down."

Penny trudged over to the couch, her shoulders slumped and her arms swinging limply at her sides like weights. "Sheldon, I'll be fine. I just need some rest."

"How can you sleep? I still have to put a cold rag over your head, sing to you, and apply VapoRub to your chest."

Penny snorted. "Yeah, right."

"Lay down. Boy, you are being awfully resistant." He shook his head. "I'll be right back."

Penny gave into him and settled herself down on her loveseat while he went to the back of her apartment to the bathroom. He opened her medicine cabinet and gasped in horror. Rows and rows of various beauty products lined the shelves. There were very few actual bottles of medicine. It's called a medicine cabinet for a reason, he thought.

After a quick inventory, he found year-old prescriptions of antibiotics (why did people insist on not finishing the rest of the bottle like doctors told them to?), some Ibuprofen, and an empty bottle of cough syrup.

"Well," he told himself. "This won't do."

. . .

. . .

When Sheldon returned to Penny's apartment twenty minutes later, minus his suit jacket, he had what he would call a goody-bag of medications, as well as a small stack of comic books to keep himself entertained while he cared for Penny.

He took a seat on the edge of the couch, placed his comics on the floor because there was no room on the coffee table, and opened the bag.

"What's the bag for?" Penny asked groggily.

"This," he said, shuffling through the contents, "is to aid you on your path toward recovery." He pulled out a digital thermometer, sheathed the tip in a protective plastic sleeve, and commanded her to open her mouth and lift her tongue. Once the thermometer beeped a few moments later, he took it from her mouth and read the screen. "One hundred and three point six degrees. Well, that's not good." He turned to her and awkwardly placed his wrist over her forehead. "We need to get that down. Are you experiencing any symptoms of delirium? Any odd or out-of-place thoughts?"

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I still can't get over the fact that Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper is actually taking care of me..."

Sheldon's brows furrowed. "What is there to disbelieve about that?" he asked. "You are my friend. You have taken care of me before. I'm simply returning the favor." He glanced at his watch. "Also, I have nowhere to be today because I canceled all events for this funeral."

"Sheldon," Penny started, grabbing his attention with her eyes, "I just want you to know...how much this means to me. Really. It means a lot."

Sheldon gave her a rare, relaxed smile. "It's what a true-blue friend would do." He reached into the bag again and took out a notebook and a pen. He opened the first page and scrawled, Temperature Chart. Below that, he wrote the time and her last checked temperature, then closed the book. "Alright. I want you to take two of these," he said, reaching into the bag once more and drawing a box of Tylenol Cold and Flu. "It should help reduce your temperature and clear up any sinus congestion you may be experiencing."

He opened the box, pulled out the sheet of pills, and popped two of them out. He handed them to her, and then got up to get her a glass of water. He brought it to her and watched her to make sure she took the medication, then went back to the sink to find a washcloth or a hand towel to dampen.

Once a cold cloth was laid across her forehead, he took out the container of VapoRub and sat by her hip.

"You aren't...seriously gonna do that, are you?"

"Penny, as your nursemaid, I implore you to trust me. I will make you better, but you can't fight me every step of the way." He opened the top, swiped his index finger, middle finger, and ring finger into the milky-clear substance, and looked at her. "Now. You may notice some tingling."

"...Isn't that what it's supposed to do?"

"Yes. Now pull those covers down."

Penny sighed and did as she was told.

"Open your bathrobe."

She undid the cloth belt of the robe and parted it, revealing a yellow cami. Sheldon started forward, but stopped when his hand was just above her chest.

"Now, which way does your chest hair lay? Or does it matter?"

"What?" Penny's expression went from flat to offended in record time. "Sheldon, does it look like I have chest hair?!"

Sheldon stared at her like she was mental. "Penny. Everyone has tiny hairs all over their bodies. You are no exception."

"Whatever," she said, calming down. "Why does it matter if I have friggin' chest hair or not?"

"Because depending on what way you go, the hair can mat. Should I rub clockwise or counter-clockwise?"

Penny thought for a moment before speaking. "Which way does yours go again?"

"Counter-clockwise."

"Okay. Clockwise."

Sheldon's brow arched. "Alright."

His fingers connected with the thin, delicate skin of her chest, and he began to spread the substance over the area where her heart and lungs were located. Her skin was so hot, the VapoRub melted like butter on a pan, and Sheldon's concern for her temperature grew. If he couldn't get it down before it reached one hundred and four, he may have to get her to the hospital.

He glanced at her face and noticed she was staring at him, her demeanor stiff.

"You're supposed to be relaxing right about now," he said.

"Sheldon. You're touching my chest. How much more relaxed can I get?"

"Actually, very much more. It's proven that physical contact with other person during times of stress can reduce stress levels exponentially. A simple touch, a hug or any non-sexual contact with another can do this."

"What if it's not working?" she said.

"Then I'm just gonna have to keep rubbing until it does," he said matter-of-factly.

. . .

. . .

After twenty minutes of rubbing in clockwise motion and singing Soft Kitty to her, Penny finally started to wind down. Sheldon felt a sense of pride that he was able to do so many things – he was a genius with an eidetic memory to start, he had learned so many applicable life-skills in his time living across the hall from Penny, and to top it off, he could now call himself an expert in the safety, care, and well-being of others. He had a lot to be proud of.

Penny drifted to sleep not long after his soothing ministrations, and Sheldon took this opportunity to start cleaning, straightening, and re-organizing her apartment. He started with the clothes, taking up the hamper in her room and going around the apartment, putting every article of clothing he found in it until there were no other hoodies or house pants to find slung over anything. He took the hamper and some quarters from his pocket and made his way down to the laundry room to start a load.

While her clothes were washing, he started collecting dishes, scrapping off all the old food on them into the garbage, and drew a sink of clean water with exactly one tablespoon of dish soap. He washed them all, humming work songs to himself as he did so, and went back downstairs to check on the laundry. Once the load was in the dryer, he made his way back up, flipped on the TV and turned it down low for some background noise, and began straightening and organizing, starting from one corner of the room and working his way all the way around.

After he was finished, he went downstairs to fold her clothing, then came back up and sorted everything into her drawers and hung the shirts in the closet. By the time he came back out of her room, Penny was moving around on the loveseat, groaning.

"Penny? Are you alright?"

She grunted in response and slowly opened her eyes.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, taking a seat on the edge of the couch.

"Tired," she said after a second.

"It's time to take your temperature. Open up," he said, putting another disposable plastic sleeve over the thermometer tip. The thermometer read one hundred and one point seven. He made a sound of approval and jotted down the results in the notebook.

"Am I getting better?" she asked.

"Slowly, but yes." He got up and started making his way toward her room, saying, "I'm going to draw you a soothing bath. Where's your bath thermometer?"

"I don't...have one."

"Fine, then I'm going to draw you a nerve-wracking bath of indeterminate temperature."

"I don't need a bath, Sheldon."

Sheldon turned and scoffed. "You have a high temperature, Penny. You've been laying in a pool of your own sweat and germs all morning." He pointed his finger at her and looked at her sternly. "You are getting a bath."

Penny laid her head back and rubbed her eyes. "Whatever, Sheldon."

Once the bath was ready, he came back out. "Alright. Stand up."

Penny sat up sluggishly and pushed herself to her feet. She wobbled to the bathroom. Sheldon followed. She stood before the full bathtub, brimming with bubbles, and began removing her robe, but stopped when she realized he was right behind her. "Um...Sheldon. What are you doing?"

"I'm going to help you."

"I don't need help, sweetie."

"Do you think you're strong enough to bathe yourself?"

"I'm just gonna get in and get out. I think I can do that by myself."

"Nonsense." Sheldon grabbed her arm and slid the sleeve of the robe off her shoulder and pulled.

"Sheldon," she started to complain, but he was quick to interject.

"Penny, you won't get any better if you don't let me help you get better. Now stop resisting. Resistance is futile."

Penny sighed heavily and allowed him to remove her robe. He began slipping the strap of her cami off her shoulder when she jerked away.

"Wait! Sheldon, I can undress myself."

"There's no reason to be shy. It isn't as though I haven't seen your breasts and your bottom before."

"Sheldon!"

"Alright!" he said, throwing up his hands, and left the room for her to undress. A few minutes later, he heard her call for him to come in, and he did so.

He knelt by the tub and grabbed a washcloth while Penny laid back and closed her eyes, completely enveloped in bubbles. "Give me your arm," he commanded, lathering up the washcloth with a bar of Dove soap.

"Sheldon?" she asked, bringing her arm up out of the water and slinging it over the tub.

"Yes, Penny?"

"Will you tell me a story?"

He took a moment to consider the request, then nodded. "Alright." He took her tanned arm in his long, white fingers and began lathering her skin with the cloth in small circles. "Once upon a time, there was a pilot. He was arrogant, but sure in himself, and had no fear..."

"Sheldon...that's Green Lantern."

"Hal Jordan, yes." He finished scrubbing her right arm and waved for her to hand over her left one. "Very good, Penny. Since you already know that one, shall I tell you another?"

"Please."

"One day, a pet rat came to New York City and escaped his cage. He was lost, scavenging in the sewers for whatever he could find to sustain himself."

"Oh, this sounds cute," Penny remarked.

"Hush. Turn around so I can get your back."

Penny did so, the water shifting with her movement, and leaned slightly forward so that her whole back was exposed to him. Sheldon rinsed the washcloth out in the water, and brought the soap to it to begin lathering it up again.

"Now, this rat, whom called himself Splinter, came across a broken glass jar, and around the pieces crawled four baby turtles. The turtles were crawling around in a strange, glowing ooze in front of a broken canister, which read 'radioactive material' on it."

"Wait a minute..."

Sheldon ignored her and continued, washing her back. "The rat, feeling the need to protect them, gathered them up inside an old coffee can, and the next morning when he awoke, he was surprised to discover they had doubled in size. And so had he."

Penny turned slightly around, craning her neck around to look at him, a frown on her face. "Sheldon, that's the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles... Can't you tell me something other than movies and cartoon stories?"

"Actually, they were both comic book stories, but alright," he said. He cleared his throat as she turned back around, facing away from him. "Once, there was a young boy with an eidetic memory possessing superior intellect-"

"-Sheldon!"

"What?"

"That's Star Trek – Wesley Crusher."

"Actually, it's me."

"Oh." Penny quieted down. "What happened next?"

"The boy lived a rough life, but by age eleven, he began going to college, and everything changed."

"Wow... I keep forgetting how smart you are," Penny said.

"Smart?" Sheldon scoffed. He wanted to give her facts about his IQ, but knew that not only had he already told her how many IQ points he'd have to lose in order to be classified as 'smart', but she would not understand the number system. So, he ignored it and continued.

"After college and traveling abroad, the boy, whom had become a man in this time – dip in the water, wash off, then I'll get your legs. The man found his own place, but the rent was a little steep for his tastes, so he put out an ad for a roommate in the paper."

After Penny had turned around to lay back against the back of the tub once more, Sheldon took her right leg and started washing at the knee, working his way down.

"Sheldon, can you tell me any good parts to the story? It's kinda boring."

Sheldon looked up, thought it over, and nodded. "Okay. A girl moved in across the hall sometime later, and the man learned that it's possible to be friends with a completely superficial woman whom can't manage her money. The end."

Before he could blink, Penny's hand flew out of the water in the form of a fist and punched Sheldon right in the arm. He pulled back and held his arm, mouthing the word "ow".

"Asshole."

"Penny!" Sheldon rubbed at his arm, then looked back into her flaming eyes. "That was meant to be read as a happy ending. You see, had you been anyone else, I never would have learned to become friends with someone so different from myself. All my life, I thought friendship was based on a variety of factors including interests, convenience, and intellect. You've taught me that it's so much more than that."

Penny's expression began to soften. Sheldon continued, his voice a notch lower.

"You seem to be my polar opposite in so many ways, too far to count. In being so, you've shown me a side of people that I could enjoy that I would have never seen on my own. You taught me that sometimes things become out-of-control, and that's okay. You've taught me that no matter what I think I know about you, I don't. You are the instability to my stability, the anomaly to my fixed way of thought. You added color to my black and white life, when I thought color didn't even exist – I couldn't think it, because I'd never seen it before. But then you brought a collage of color to my eyes, and at first it blinded me – it scared me. But I've come to love all the colors, good and bad, bright and dull."

Sheldon fell silent. He had simply run out of things to say. He stared at Penny, suddenly nervous – something only she could make him feel as far as women went – and the look on her face was unexplainable. Her eyes slowly became glossy with tears, and her expression warped and contorted – oh deity whose existence he doubted, was she about to cry?

Suddenly, Penny lunged over the tub and trapped him in a warm, wet embrace, her chest pressed against him, soaking his shirt, with her stomach laid against the side of the tub.

"Oh Sheldon!" she sobbed, her arms squeezing tighter around his neck, "that was the most beautiful thing you've ever said to me – and it even made sense!"

. . .

. . .

It was time for Sheldon to leave. He had his bag of medications in his hand, his comic books he had brought over to read and never did, and what was left of his dignity. Penny, dressed and clad once again in her light purple bathrobe, walked him to the door.

"Sheldon, I wanna thank you for being my friend. For taking care of me today. I wasn't even expecting all this..."

"You're welcome, Penny," was all he said.

She smirked, pointing a finger and poking him playfully on the chest. "You're like the Grinch. You're heart used to be three sizes too small. Now it's growing."

"I assure you, my heart is the same size it's always been, and that if it had ever been that small, I never would have lived this long-"

Penny stopped his mouth from moving by pressing her lips against his, and he froze, unsure of what to do. When she pulled away again, she said, "Thank you," and like a zombie, Sheldon turned and walked out of her apartment, a little confused. And unsettled.

Then it hit him. Germs. GERMS. She had kissed him with her flu-infected mouth!

"Oh God, oh God," he started chanting, his feet taking him to his door, his hands desperately clawing at his pockets for the keys. "Oh God, oh God!"

He hurried into the house, shut the door behind him. Leonard was sitting on the couch, his nose red, his eyes tired, wrapped in a blanket. "Hey Sheldon, how was the funeral?"

"Oh God, oh God!"

He dashed to the bathroom, leaving his roommate to wonder just what the hell was wrong with him this time.

Sheldon grabbed the bottle of antiseptic mouth wash, uncapped it, and brought it to his lips. Then he stopped. Should he do it? If he didn't...he would get sick... Someone would have to take care of him... Penny would have to take care of him...

He slowly brought the bottle away from his mouth and screwed the cap back on. He looked at himself in the mirror and thought for a second. He would need to get to the university, to the lab, and grab some swabs and petri dishes. He'd have to make sure to call off all appointments for the next two days. He'd have to tell Amy to stay away, maybe make some modifications on the Relationship Agreement to enforce it.

He didn't want anyone interfering with his time with Penny while he was sick.