The next several chapters are Penny-centric and told either in her narrative or her point of view. After all, it's her starring role that's at the heart of this fic.

Long chapter but live with it. Won't be another along for a bit.

Reparata

The Joneses Chapter 10

Journal Entry #1 I don't have any idea how it happened. It snuck up on me and wrapped me up in its coils and tentacles and I was trapped, captured. When it finally dawned on me just what 'it' was I went to the bathroom, turned on the shower and cried for almost 20 minutes. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It wasn't the way I'd planned things and it certainly wasn't the life I'd envisioned as a little girl of 25 who went partying at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I am stuck indefinitely in the ass-end of Pennsylvania, living (Oh, God, married in name only) with a human computer who rarely seems human, and playing a role that could mean life or death for the both of us – unless I kill him first.

He is sleeping upstairs and I'm sitting here writing in this journal because I have nothing else to do. There's not a drop of booze in the place and it's dark and scary outside and I'm all alone with a head case of a 'husband'. Maybe I should have stayed with Leonard. Maybe I could have learned to love him. Maybe a chicken has lips.

Entry #4 I started this journal after the psychologist who was one of the two US Marshals took me aside and gave it to me saying that I needed to write down all the things I couldn't say because it would be 'cathartic'. I had to look the damned word up but I have to admit – it has been so far. Cathartic, I mean.

One thing I'll say for my Dr. Whack-a-doodle is that he is committed to this farce whereas I am merely involved. Every morning when I wake up I hope like hell that tomorrow will be my last day in Hidden Valley, PA, home of the Vikings football team and Donnie and Pamela Jones. I miss my old life.

Entry #8 I am a wife but unless a miracle occurs, I'll never become a mother here. Being a wife and hitched to the OCD freak of the year is bad enough. A kid would be my undoing. I'd go nuts, postal or something and I couldn't even plead insanity.

He has his rituals, his preferences and his prejudices and boy, is he prejudiced. No, not in a racial sense, but just, I mean, he pre-judges everything and everybody and Lord help them if they don't fit into a category he can deal with.

All for now. We're on our own now and I suppose I need to find Dr. Whack-a-doodle.

I figure that this journal will be a good story line for my Lifetime Movie when I get home and become simply 'Penny' again.

I miss my shoes.

Entry #11 It's almost September and as I read this I'm ashamed of myself. Reading my own words, listening to the words in my head, I realize how much I've taken for granted since coming here, especially Donnie.

When we first sat down together he made one thing clear: 'Don or Donald, never Donnie' but I called him that at first just to piss him off but it didn't seem to bother him at all. Sometimes I called him Donnie, or Don and only called him 'Donald' when I was angry about something.

Updating history: At first he didn't recognize me at all. I'd had a US Government makeover and that included short hair, mousy brown hair, not at all like my radiant 'Preference' blonde from Pasadena. Oh, and contacts that made my green eyes blue. He looked at me and thought that I was a government employee, one of the drones from Witness Protection, and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with me.

He wanted his 'Penny' on some level and he didn't see 'Penny' when he looked at me. It was funny-sad in a way. Funny for me but sad for him.

Note: I think I need to rewrite some of this for the Lifetime Movie. Even I think I came off as a big bitch especially after meeting Carl Pilgreen and practically offering him my body in the Pizza Hut parking lot.

My poor Donnie. All he said to me was 'don't bring him home, Pamela'. The way he said it and the timbre of his voice, well, it made me ashamed of me and sad for Donnie.

Yes. I'll rewrite the first days. Even I don't like me.

Entry #17 The 4th of July will always be my best early memory of being Pamela Jones. We had an incredible day and we won the race and the trophy and Donnie was such a wonderful husband figure. I kissed him and he reacted just as I expected. He froze up and then brought down the first aid tent but he never let me go.

I sprained my ankle and you would have thought I was dying. He was so sweet and gentle and caring and I think I could get used to being 'Pam' but I still want my crack at stardom. His hands are so gentle and caring and he knew just what to do.

Entry #22 I think something's going on in his head because one minute he's Don and the next he's all tense and nervous just like Sheldon. I wonder if he even knows it himself?

Entry #23 It's been a while but I have to tell you about the great experiment I'm conducting. Donnie is still freezing up sometimes and I don't think he knows why so when we got back from the BBQ I started playing with his head, asking him questions and getting 'yes, dear' answers. You know, the kind guys give you when they're not paying attention.

Anyhow, I tricked him into spending the night in the same bed saying that I was afraid of noises and couldn't sleep. I guess tricked isn't the right word. I guilted him into it. We'll have to see how it turns out. I don't plan on getting busy with him. It's just an experiment. I don't like it when he's having these panic things. I hope this fixes them.

Entry #24 Woke up from a wonderful and restful night. I woke up in his arms and it felt so nice. I think I just missed the touch of a man's hand and he is definitely a man if that hard-on he was sporting was any indication. I know it was just a full bladder but I already saw the outline of Donnie's package when he was running and sweating and wow! He's got a deal.

He made me breakfast and coffee and then went for a run before we go to camp. It's his routine but it's not the same as 'SLC,PhD' had going for himself in Pasadena. It's more like habit, not that damned Obsessive/Compulsive thing he had going on back home.

Back home. I guess really this is home. I'm happy here but I'll be glad to get back to L.A. and see about selling me in a movie.

Tonight I need to touch up his hair and maybe take the scissors to it. It's getting really long over the ears and when he wears that silly Steelers cap it sticks out from underneath like hairy wings.

Pam closed the journal and stuck it under the lining of the nightstand drawer and thought about what she'd written.

'I need to do that every day. I need to record the events that are making up our lives out here in the country. Right now I need to get dressed. Cheerleader tryouts start today. Oh, goody-goody-gumdrops.'

Pam walked downstairs and followed her nose to the coffee pot. As usual, he'd laid out a fruit plate and some instant oatmeal for her but it was the coffee that she needed the most.

Viking Field

Cheerleader tryouts were a big deal in any high school and Penny remembered her first try out. She had been so nervous that she'd vomited a couple of times before calming down.

She had been good, really good, but that skank Mary Jo Hanson had been better and got the lead position. She got co-captain her sophomore year but was never quite good enough for the top spot. It would come to define her life more than she knew. Never quite good enough.

It was hot and there were 20 girls trying out for the squad that only had 10 spots on the roster. Everyone tried out, even the seniors who had been on the squad since 10th grade.

She glanced over and noticed that the team's end of the field was empty. 'Must be on the town tour.' She watched as her first group went through a simple routine and made notes on a clipboard. She'd learned a lot from Dr. Sheldon Cooper, even if unintentionally, about organizing and documenting things. Each girl had a numbered tag pinned to her top and Pam noted strengths and weaknesses of each girl as they went through the simple routines.

There was no shade and she'd given her girls breaks to get water from the cooler Donnie had loaded up with water and ice from the trunk of her car. Her legs were going to get a nice tan before the tryouts were over unless it rained but there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Not one.

The sun disappeared and she jerked her thoughts to the present and looked up and up – into her husband's quirky smile and an open beach umbrella, smaller than normal, but –

"You forget that you are a Nordic blonde, Pamela, and not used to so much sun. I picked this up from the Five & Dime store on our run this morning. It's better than nothing." Again with 'Pamela' like he was making sure she knew he was serious.

"That's so sweet, Donnie. But I think I need some sun on these legs of mine, don't you?"

He looked down and saw the smooth skin of her thighs and how her shorts were pulled tightly into her crotch revealing the delightfully full lips split by the fabric and he felt that sudden onset of anxiety and almost blind panic again. His breathing became louder and raspy and he was sure he was on the verge of passing out.

"Hey, sweetie, sit down. You've been out in the sun and running and – " She looked up at him but was eye to crotch with him and she could see – oh, my!

"Donald, go back to the guys and maybe hold your clipboard – " She couldn't help it. She giggled and then snickered. She looked at his face and saw the twitching and how red he was getting and then he was gone, long loping strides carrying him away from her and her laughter.

'Holy crap on a cracker! He was getting – he had a - I turned him on! Crap, crap, crap! He thinks I was laughing at him when I was just – surprised. Happy surprised.'

Pam watched him as he directed his players through drills and a short scrimmage. Her own girls were pooped and since it was the first day of tryouts, she cut them some slack. She had already mentally eliminated two of the twenty but was unprepared for the crowd that formed around her, intent on doing serious sucking up. By the time she'd sent them on their way, the other end of the field was empty.

She glanced at the clock on the dash and realized that she'd been sitting there for more than twenty minutes. 'Where the heck is he?'

Pam drove over to the field house and went inside. It was deserted and smelled like sweaty guys and it kinda turned her stomach. She walked down to his office, someplace she'd never been before, but the door was closed and locked.

'Surely he can't be sulking someplace because I giggled at his boner, can he? I mean this is Sheldon Cooper under Donnie Jones and Sheldon…'

She had an epiphany of sorts: Despite how well he seemed to adapt, how well he seemed to fit in, it was still all an act. He was Sheldon Cooper not Donnie Jones. He still had all his quirks and foibles but he'd been suppressing them all this time and she'd been ignoring the 'man behind the mask' and now she was afraid he'd snapped.

Pam drove along the Town Tour route he normally took but hadn't come across him. She knew he wouldn't be at the American Legion hall or at the small bar across from the Kroger and she didn't want to go through the Western Auto looking for him.

'Moon Pie, where are you?'

Sundown Bar & Grill

"Eight ball in the corner pocket for the win." The solid black ball dropped into the pocket and he scooped up his winnings and gestured to the bartender for another Cuba Libre. Not a Virgin Cuba Libre either.

"Jesus, Don, where the hell did you learn to shoot pool like that?" Carl Pilgreen had just lost another $20 to the Stork Man and he was beginning to think losing to him was becoming a habit. He wasn't used to loosing at anything but this skinny beanpole just couldn't seem to lose.

"Carl, when you know the laws of physics and understand their role in our everyday lives, nothing is impossible, except maybe understanding women. I can't figure out a formula or equation for that. I don't think anyone can, do you?"

They played another game and Donnie ran the table this time, not giving Carl a shot after the break.

"Man, cut me some slack, will ya?" He handed over another $20 to the Stork.

"I warned you, Carl. How about another round? I'll buy again since I won – again." He had his smirk on but hid it carefully. Carl was a veritable font of disgusting stories regarding women and who was doing whom in Hidden Valley. He listened but never commented. Pam would get a kick out of the gossip.

"Coach, I think it's time you called it a day and went home." The voice belonged to Paul, the older Marshal who had done their orientation.

He didn't act at all surprised with the sudden appearance of Paul who was also, strangely enough, the town's one and only cop who spent most of his time out on Route 30 trying to nab speeders.

"Home? Oh, yeah. I can catch me a plane and be in Pasa – "

"Jones, get your drunk ass in the patrol car. Your wife's going to be all over you for drinking with that damned ulcer of yours ready to pop! You didn't come home from practice and she got worried and called me. Let's go, Coach."

He hadn't gone home after practice. He had run for a while, showered at the field house and changed into his casual clothes – cutoff sweat pants and a sleeveless Slippery Rock Athletic Department sweatshirt and then walked to the Sundown to grab something to eat.

Donnie'd spotted Carl shooting pool and one thing led to another and he found himself playing pool against the guy Pam had told him to stay clear of. He was a braggart and ran his mouth but Donnie ran the table and won the first $20 of the evening. He taunted Carl quietly, getting him to wager again. And lose again. It was fun and profitable and he drank his Cuba Libre to loosen up and things got chummy between the two of them.

His 'wife' had finally called the Marshal's Service emergency number and reported his disappearance and that had activated a ton of unnecessary actions because his location was fixed within 10 meters using the GPS tracer in his cell phone.

Jones Residence
10:30PM

She was trying to repair the damage done by her crying jags. He was coming home according to the US Marshal who had found Donnie in a bar of all places, drunk on his ass and almost spilling his guts to Carl Pilgreen about catching a plane and going home.

Once she sobered him up…she had no idea what she was going to do. Her first thought was to kick his ass up around his neck for scaring her so damned badly but she'd already hurt him enough with her 'Penny' act at the football field.

They would have a talk and maybe make some decisions about how to deal with what was happening between them. The Marshal had been very clear about things: fix it or the Witness Protection people would fix it for them.

There had been a warning in his voice and she picked up on it right away.

"We're still adjusting to being together and he's having 'issues' I guess you'd call them. I'll talk with him and we'll handle it. I promise."

She quickly listed all the things that their situation had screamed at her but that she had carefully ignored, lost in her own Penny-centered world from the beginning. She made lists and this time the list was important to both of them.

First, Sheldon had killed someone for her. It wasn't deliberate but he'd come running when she screamed for his help. It had been a freak accident but it saved her life.

Second, Sheldon, who everyone knew was terrified of getting germs from any unclean surface, had sliced open his hand and arm to provide bloody camouflage at the FBI office.

Third, his 'my Penny' comment when they'd first had orientation right here 3 months ago.

Fourth, how Donnie had carried her after she'd hurt her ankle and how frantic he'd been that there was no ambulance or doctor to 'save her'.

And lastly, the most confusing thing of all, how Donnie had reacted physically to her, how he'd seemed to be going through anxiety or panic attacks whenever they were physical with one another. Whenever Donnie had obviously had romantic or sexy thoughts.

She noted the transition in her own words from 'Sheldon' to 'Donnie' and just shook her head in amazement.

She had a thing for her husband and he had apparently had a thing for his wife but they'd both been too cautious, okay, he had been cautious since he'd never been in a situation like this ever before. She had just…ignored all the signs because subconsciously the idea of Penny being 'in like' with Dr. Sheldon Cooper, let alone in love, was ridiculous but to Pam…it was a natural progression.

Holy crap on a cracker! She was falling in love with her husband! She started to giggle and then laugh. It was hysterical. A woman falling in love with her husband! A man in falling in love with his wife!

That's how they found her, in the kitchen, laughing, almost hysterically, with tears running down her cheeks.

"Don't say anything, Don. Just let her have her say and nod and say 'Yes, dear' and maybe you'll survive."

He slapped Don on the back and left. That little retirement cottage he'd bought on the South Jersey Shore looked better and better every day.