After listening to Leonard and the others hit futilely on Penny for an hour, I plead digestive distress and retire to my room. I make an effort to work on a research paper, but the voices down the hall continue to distract me.
"...So, friends with Sheldon for this long, huh? Was he just as obnoxious as a kid as he is now?" Howard's question.
"Obnoxious? Sheldon is never obnoxious!" Penny feigns surprise. "He's always been a great friend to me. You guys must see an entirely different side of him than I do."
Leonard chimes in. "Sheldon never even talks to girls, unless they're scientists, and then it's only to undermine their work. We just find it... hard to believe... that he's friends with somebody like you, who's so... you know..."
"Gorgeous," Howard finishes for him. "Like, drop dead gorgeous."
"Oh, you boys flatter me," Penny purrs.
I shut my laptop and cover my head with a pillow. The only benefit for myself that I can see is that there is absolutely no way that Penny will be able to fake the friendship she is claiming to have with me. Gun or no gun, she can't force me to be someone that I am not, especially not in front of three people who know my social habits far better than she does. The thought provides a small flicker of comfort and I drift off to sleep in half-smothered darkness.
I jerk awake three hours later and am greeted by relative silence. A sudden fear lances through me, and I pad quietly out of my room and into the kitchen. In the living room, Penny is munching on a pilfered bag of Cheetos (Leonard's, thankfully) and playing Ocarina of Time.
"Did you come out here to make sure I wasn't stealing anything?" Penny mumbles as I open the refrigerator. I express my shock to the egg carton on the second shelf; is she telepathic in addition to being a petty crook?
"No, I need a glass of milk," I say, which is mostly true.
"Well, I promise I won't steal anything other than food." She jabs the A button viciously in an attempt to shake off a Redead. "Damn these creepy, head-humping bastards!"
"I thought you didn't like video games," I comment as I pour milk into a saucepan and kick on the stove.
"I never said that. But yeah, generally I'm not into them. This one is pretty neat, though. I just won the hookshot from that dead guy in the graveyard, and now I'm gonna go get me a horse."
"Did you learn the proper song as child Link?" I ask, stirring my milk.
"I think your pervy friend did. He's the one who told me to go back to the ranch place as an adult."
"Good." I watch her haphazardly chop at enemies for a moment and consider the gigantic wrench she has thrown into my otherwise orderly life. Well, to be fair, my Meemaw's death caused the first snag; I loved her, and her death made me acknowledge the emotions connected to that love. I would not be the person I am today without her kindness or her ready encouragement. She never understood me, but understanding wasn't necessary for her acceptance of who I was. Everyone else in my life has found that inability to understand to be too nebulous, too insulting, or just simply too hard to swallow. I can never feel comfortable around my 'peers' because on some level, I can sense their discomfort regarding me. I have no idea how to make people happy; the concept simply escapes me. But I made Meemaw happy, simply by being myself, and I do not believe that I will ever stumble upon a human being with the ability to love so unconditionally.
And Penny... she is unlike anyone I have ever met. She does not speak to me as though she expects me to say something crazy, nor does she quietly put up with demands. She is small and brash and I do not know what to make of her. The only thing I know for certain is the cool clarity of her gun in my face and the controlled anger of her finger resting against the trigger.
"Your milk is boiling." Her voice pulls my focus to the pan on the stove, which is close to bubbling over. Penny has paused her game and is wandering over to examine the contents of the fridge.
"How long do you plan on being here?" I ask suddenly. She has no respect for my personal space and nearly bumps against me as she bends over to peruse the bottom shelf.
"As long as I need to be." She finds an apple and rinses it quickly under cold water before taking a sloppy bite. "I'm thinking about finding a job, but working the 9 to 5 just seems so... mundane... compared to what I'm used to doing."
"I can imagine." I pour my warm milk into a coffee mug and skitter to my spot on the couch. Penny takes a seat next to me and hands me the Nintendo controller.
"I can't play until I finish my apple," she says innocently, her mouth full of mush. I make a face and take the controller from her.
"You could try out for an acting job," I suggest as I make Link run toward Lon-Lon Ranch. For a wild moment I find myself wishing I could take up residence in Hyrule; wielding a sword and cutting down monsters seems far preferable to my current life situation.
Penny snorts. "I'm no actress. I mean, your friends bought my little sob story earlier, but they were also busy staring at my boobs."
"There's more to acting than simply feigning an emotional response. An actor or actress must be very adept at being the center of attention and asserting his or herself. Considering your current career, I would say that you are as skilled as any at making yourself heard in a room full of people."
"Yeah, well, I can't take my gun with me to auditions," Penny grumbles. "I dunno, I guess I've never thought about it. I've always liked the thrill of robbing a place, of being able to make people feel fear... it's an adrenaline rush, to have people be afraid of you. To be purposely unpredictable. Maybe I could channel that into acting."
"Perhaps." I race Ingo and win Epona easily; I have always found the difficulty level of Ocarina of Time to be terribly disappointing.
"Well, in that case, I'd better go shopping tomorrow. I don't think I own any clothes appropriate for an audition... hell, I don't even know what to do at an audition. You're gonna help me out, right?"
"...What?" I blink. Clearly there is something about my suggestion to her that I did not think through.
"Well, this is your idea. You must know something about it. So, you're gonna help me get a part."
"I am a theoretical physicist with two PhDs. I have no business helping you with anything related to acting." I carefully neglect to mention the Shakespearian plays I put on for my mother as a child (with a disgruntled and unwilling Missy playing the female characters) and my quiet borderline obsession with Broadway musicals.
"Sure you do! I'm sure you'll be great." She pats me on the arm and snags the controller from my grasp; I wince as her sticky fingers race over the buttons. "By the way, what exactly do you do? Are all of the numbers and symbols doodled on those dry erase boards your handiwork?"
"Well, some of it is Leonard's," I explain wearily, "But his work is highly derivative and therefore unimportant. I fear that you would not understand my current vein of research; only about a dozen people in the world do."
"Try me."
I sigh. "Are you going to take notes?"
"No." She rolls her eyes. "Just shoot. We've got all night; I'm pretty sure I have like seven temples to go through."
Two hours and a dozen utterances of "what?" later, Penny has fallen asleep halfway through the Fire Temple and I am too wary of the sticky controller to complete it for her. I jab quickly at the start button to save her game, switch off the television, and turn back toward Penny. The glint of her gun is peeking out from beneath her rumpled jacket, and briefly I consider disarming her.
"Don't even think about it," she mumbles, opening one eye to glare at me.
Definitely telepathic. "Good night, Penny," I say, handing her a blanket.
"Good night, Sheldon."
When I emerge the next morning, Penny has thankfully already vacated the apartment. A pile of her clothing lays discarded in my spot on the couch, and I fold them carefully before placing them two cushions away, washing my hands, and sitting down with my bowl of cereal.
"Did Penny leave?" Leonard asks when he wanders into the kitchen for breakfast.
"Yes." I switch on the closed captioning on the television in anticipation for the conversation to come.
"So, she's really... uh... pretty," Leonard says lamely. I make a neutral noise and try to focus on Doctor Who. "Is she, you know, single?"
"I'm guessing so." My cereal is no longer crunchy. Curses.
"Hmm." For a few blissful moments Leonard says nothing to me, and I am able to eat my soggy cereal in peace. Then, out of nowhere, he blurts a question: "Did you guys ever have a thing?"
"A thing?" I raise my eyebrows. "What is 'a thing'?"
"You know... did you guys ever..."
"Engage in coitus?" I say it mostly because Leonard's unending questions are bothersome and I know that his mouthful of coffee will end up in his cereal bowl. I am not disappointed.
"Yeah. That."
"Our relationship is and has always been purely platonic," I say, but then the lie behind it hits me and I feel myself twitching. I of course cannot, with my eidetic memory, forget the sensation of her lips pressed against mine, but more pertinent matters had pushed the memory into the back of my mind.
Thankfully, Leonard has shifted his focus to his cereal bowl and does not see my wildly squinting right eye. I stand and empty the sad contents of my bowl into the sink and try to ignore the fact that Leonard's eyes are once again on me.
"Well, she's really nice. I'm glad that you... that she... that you're friends."
I suddenly find myself hoping that Leonard does not try to seriously pursue Penny; I am very much aware of the fact that his attempts to woo women always fail miserably. His failure would be even more pronounced with a woman like Penny. However, because his romantic endeavors do not affect me personally, and because I am sure that the armed criminal squatting in my apartment is more than capable of taking care of herself, I say nothing.
"Well, I'm heading to the shower," Leonard announces once he finishes his breakfast. I let out another neutral grunt and then sigh heavily in relief when I am alone. Well, almost alone; Penny's clothing on the other side of the couch stands out in my peripheral vision like a giant stain marring the warm brown of the cushion.
I close my eyes and hope fiercely that this is all a dream, that she won't return to haunt me like some recalcitrant apparition.
Hi guys. Just so you know, I have no idea where this is going. Maybe a new take on the oft-used 'Penny needs acting help' prompt? Or will a part of Penny always be attracted to a life of crime? Did something besides her tiff with Daddy Dearest drive Penny to California? Will Sheldon get to sit down and have a proper Saturday morning breakfast in any of my fics, ever? Who the hell knows! I just kind of let the creative juices flow.
Hope you like!
