A/N: Okay, here is a nice long chapter to make up for the brevity of the previous one.


"Hey, Sheldon, it's Friday night. I'm going out. You don't wanna come with me, right?"

He stared at her uncomprehendingly. "But there's a Doctor Who marathon tonight. You wouldn't want to miss that, would you?"

"Actually, yeah, I would," she answered. "I'm starting to feel cooped up in this house. I need to go blow off some steam."

Sheldon frowned. He imagined that Penny's idea of blowing off steam involved drinking, dancing and perhaps going home with a stranger for a one-night stand. He felt frustrated. Everything had been going so well between them, and now she had to mess up their perfectly arranged routine. And from the way she spoke, she had no intention of him tagging along, not that he wanted to. He just didn't want her to revert back to her former self. He liked this more mature version of Penny, who was responsible and not completely hopeless at understanding physics. It made him angry that she wanted to undo all of her progress.

"If you become intoxicated, you should call for a taxi rather than attempt to drive your own vehicle," he said coldly.

She flushed and stared for a moment, then snapped, "Don't worry; I probably won't be coming home until tomorrow morning."

He watched unhappily as she stormed off. By the time she tripped back downstairs in heels and a scandalously short dress, he had tuned in to the Doctor Who marathon. He pretended to be so engrossed in his show that he didn't even notice her, but he was well aware that she paused by the doorway before leaving.

After Penny left, Sheldon tried to focus on his show, but the thought of Penny out drinking with strange men kept distracting him. After several more minutes, he found that his attention was still wandering from his beloved show, something which had never happened before. Unwelcome visions of Penny carousing and allowing some drunken lowlife to feel her up kept flashing through his mind. Every time, he gritted his teeth and refocused on his show, only to find his mind wandering back to Penny a few moments later. This is intolerable, he thought irritably. Now she's even found a way to ruin Doctor Who. Finally, he switched off the ancient tube set with a huff. It was completely incomprehensible, but he couldn't enjoy his show knowing what she planned to do. In fact, the more he thought about it, the stronger his need became to confront her about her inconsiderate behavior. Finally, he stood up, switched off the television, grabbed his Members Only jacket and nervously took down the keys to Wyatt's truck. Inhaling deeply, he told himself that all he had to do was imagine the paved roads were rutted dirt tracks and that the other cars were rather fast-moving cows. That way, it wouldn't seem that much different than driving around the pastures.

He made it into town without incident, only to realize he had no idea where Penny had gone. After enduring unfriendly stares in the first three bars he entered, calling Penny's name loudly, he did something he knew she wouldn't like: he hacked her phone's GPS to locate her. It was child's play for a genius like himself, and in less than two minutes, he had an address. Once he knew where she was, getting behind the wheel again was almost a relief. But he still had no idea what he would say to her when he got there.

Twenty minutes later, he eased Wyatt's battered old truck into a parking spot at an establishment known as Curly's. Wyatt's pickup blended right in with a row of vehicles of a similar type and condition. It reminded him, in a not unpleasant fashion, of his hometown in Texas.

When he walked into the bar, it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the gloom inside compared to the low bright rays of the setting sun. Penny was sitting at a small table by herself with a half-full shot glass in front of her and the bottle next to it. He tilted his head, unsure of what he was seeing. Why was she sitting by herself, he wondered. She glanced up and then did a double take as he approached.

"Sheldon, what are you doing here? What happened to Doctor Who?"

He shrugged as he pulled out a chair and sat down, careful not to touch the sticky tabletop. "I've seen it before. In fact, I could quote every episode from memory."

A wicked gleam came into her eyes. "I dare you to take a shot and then try it. Last time you got trashed, you had no idea you mooned the whole audience at the awards show." She giggled. "I would have paid money to see that."

He paused while he digested that statement. "You would pay money to see my bare buttocks?" he asked in astonishment. Her only response was to laugh harder, leading him to wonder how much she had already had to drink.

Frowning slightly, he said, "I thought you were planning a night of debauchery, so why is it that you are sitting here unaccompanied?"

Her giggles died down, and her shoulders slumped. "See that guy over there? Tan lines on his left hand ring finger-he's married. In the corner? That jackass tried to feel up the waitress. The guy at the bar? I knew him in high school-enough said. And those three over in the booth? Ugh." She shuddered for dramatic effect. "I'd have to be a lot tipsier than this to go home with any of those losers."

He frowned again, trying for the first time to really understand her. "Will that improve your emotional state, to become inebriated in order to have coitus with someone who is not otherwise appealing to you?"

She shuddered again and downed the rest of her shot. "Not in the long run. But I just want to cut loose and not have to think about stuff like my dad being in the hospital and my mom needing me to help at home."

He considered his options. For some reason he couldn't explain, he didn't want Penny to go home with some stranger, especially not one she couldn't tolerate when she was sober. An idea was beginning to form in his mind. He wasn't sure it would work, but he was compelled by the same unnamed impulse which had led him to abandon his sci-fi marathon and drive around town looking for her. So he picked up the bottle on the table between them and carefully poured another shot. All the joy seemed to leach out of her as she watched him fill the glass. As he set the bottle down, she reached for it. His hand shot out and grabbed hers, trapping it in a warm, firm grasp.

Her eyes, now full of confusion and misery, flew up to search his face.

"This isn't for you; this is for me," he explained. Before he could change his mind, he quickly downed the shot and then started coughing and wheezing as it burned its way down his throat.

"What? Why are you doing this?" she demanded.

Recovering, he replied, "You wish to have a good time and enjoy yourself by getting intoxicated and having coitus with a random stranger. I am offering you an alternative."

Her mouth dropped open, and she immediately turned very red as she stammered, trying to form a response.

"I accept your dare," he continued.

"My dare? Oh, the Doctor Who thing... right," Penny breathed. Although he could be mistaken, Sheldon thought she seemed relieved. Her cheeks were still very red as she nodded. "I thought... holy crap, never mind what I thought. Okay, go ahead. I wanna hear if you really can say the whole thing. Just the words, though," she added quickly. "Otherwise we'll be here all night." She knew Sheldon well enough to know that if he started describing every visual from the episode, a 45 minute show would stretch to a few hours or more.

Sheldon started out well, but before he got halfway through the episode, he was starting to mix up lines. In the background, the beginning chords of a popular country song sounded.

Penny whooped with delight. "I love this song!" she yelled. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the dance floor. "Come on, dance with me!" she begged.

Sheldon opened his mouth, fully prepared to say that he didn't dance, when he noticed two things (besides the flush of pleasure on Penny's cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes). The first was that the couples already on the dance floor were moving synchronously in lines. The second was that he was familiar with the steps of the dance. He was abruptly reminded of a time in his childhood when he had been trying to read Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time. He kept getting distracted by Missy, who was whirling and stomping in the living room. Most infuriatingly, she was muttering under her breath: "Back, clap, forward, heel, tap, turn..." as she tried to learn the steps. Now Sheldon realized that he may actually owe his twin an apology as he lined up next to Penny with the full knowledge of what the dance steps should be, even if his movements were awkward and ungainly. He made it through the song without tripping over his own feet, or anyone else's, and counted it a success. After the song, the dancers clapped and cheered. Penny ran to the bar and was soon back with two brown bottles. She shoved one into his hands.

"Want something to drink?" she yelled over the loud music.

He frowned at the bottle in his hand. "I would prefer water."

"Sheldon, I'm not going to ask them for water. This is a bar," she complained.

He immediately deposited the beer into her hand and strode off to the bar. Five minutes later, the bartender looked ready to punch him after explaining for the umpteenth time that his opinions didn't make any difference; the bar didn't stock bottled water. If he wanted water that badly, he was told, he could go drink from the tap in the men's room. He didn't even bother to try to hide his shudder of disgust at that suggestion. With a shrug, he gave up arguing and returned to Penny. He drank a few swallows of his beer, grimacing at the foul taste.

Penny laughed delightedly. A few minutes later, she was laughing even more as she had somehow coaxed him out onto the dance floor again. Feeling a warm glow, he grinned down at her. He may look foolish, but it was a small price to pay to see her so happy. When the music changed to a faster rhythm, she pulled him off the dance floor.

"I need another drink," she said.

She disappeared and in a few moments, reappeared with a Stetson in her hands. She plunked it on his head with a broad grin. "There. Perfect!"

"Where did you get that?" Sheldon cried in horror, snatching it off of his head.

"Oh, you know, I just grabbed it off the nearest redneck," she grinned, enjoying his germophobic panic for a moment before relenting. "There's a couple of ten-point buck heads mounted in the hallway on the way to the bathrooms. Someone put hats on them years ago, so I borrowed one. They might be a little dusty, but you won't get cooties from them."

She picked up the hat and settled it on his head once more, then grabbed his hands and tugged him into a standing position. Her gaze wandered over him from head to toe and back up again. "You look... hot," she said at last. "Like you belong here. That hat is... well, it's a darn sight sexier than that suit I made you buy for that awards banquet."

Sheldon could remember the way she had looked at him in that charcoal gray suit, and the expression on her face now was even more awestruck than it had been then. It was the way any man would want a woman to look at him. It made him want to stand a little straighter, to stick out his chest and take her in his arms. He couldn't even imagine where that strange impulse had come from. He gazed down at her, feeling like the world had spinning around him. She was so... the word beautiful hardly did it justice. Vibrant, full of life... the sparkle in her eyes drew him like a moth to a flame. Hardly knowing what he was doing, he leaned in closer. Her eyes were huge and dark as she tilted up her face toward his, but then something flickered in her expression. The next thing he knew, she had shoved at his chest, pushing him away.

She pulled in a long shuddering breath. "You're drunk," she accused.

Before he could frame a response (and what would that have been? I know? I did it for you?), she ran off toward the ladies room.

Sheldon turned away, feeling decidedly bewildered. He caught the eye of a man sitting at the bar nearby. The man lifted his hand and described an arc that dove straight down toward the countertop while whistling on a descending note. "Better luck next time, man," he said. Sheldon stared at him in confusion.

"What're you implying?" he asked. That last word came out sounding more like "imblyin", and Sheldon tried to enunciate a few more times without success.

The other man (possibly the one Penny had identified as the one from her high school, although oddly enough, he couldn't remember at the moment) shook his head. "She's hot, but she's way out of your league."

Sheldon was dumbstruck, something that almost never happened. He sank down onto the vacated barstool, completely unmindful of the germs which must be proliferating on the grimy surface. What had that unhelpful person been talking about? He felt like he ought to know, but he just couldn't seem to focus long enough to puzzle it out.

Penny reappeared at his side as he was still trying to figure it out. Her eyes were puffy and reddened, but she seemed calm as she dug her keys out of her purse.

"Let's go. I'm driving you home."

"I drove myself here," Sheldon protested, his tongue tripping over the words.

"That's scary enough when you're sober. I don't know how you managed. You panic whenever there's other cars around."

"Had to find you," he explained.

A fleeting expression crossed her face, then she shook her head. Tugging on his arm, she maneuvered him upright and draped his arm across her shoulders. "Okay, you found me, and now we're going home."

They made their way toward the exit, a task which was complicated by the fact that Sheldon kept tripping over his own feet. They passed the man at the bar, and he gave Sheldon an exaggerated wink and a thumbs up. It seemed appropriate to return the gesture, so Sheldon did so even though he had no idea what it meant.

The next thing Sheldon remembered was waking up in his borrowed bed in Kim's room. Bright sunlight pouring through the window made his head pound. He groaned and covered his eyes with one hand. When he peered out carefully, he found a glass of water and a couple of aspirin on the nightstand next to him. By the time he was feeling well enough to get up, he realized that the house was completely silent. There was a note waiting for him, propped up on the bathroom counter. It was from Penny, and it read, "Thanks for everything. I don't know what I'd do without you. P.S. The morning chores are done. Hope you feel better." He reread the note several times over, trying to discern if it was expressing mere gratitude or something more. Finally, he folded up the note carefully and placed in his shirt pocket, acutely aware of the symbolism of keeping it close to his heart. He left it there anyway.