A/N: So. Latest chapter, ho! I altered quite a bit in this one, removing the really unbelievable bits, especially those regarding a favorite Vulcan and whatnot. Just seemed a bit too far-fetched ... hopefully it's easier to read and less of a jumbled mess. Regardless, thank you all for your motivational words and delightful response to the updated version! Your humble author bows to you all! Please review, per usual, cause it makes me a happy author! Yay! Enjoy!
Time together is just never quite enough.
When we're apart whatever are you thinking of?
What will it take to make or break this hint of love?
So tell me darling, do you wish we'd fall in love?
All the time.
"Saltwater Room," Owl City
The Gravitational Dynamism Revelation
Written by Amputation
"—and obviously the only correct color scheme would be a neutral pairing, Penny. The colors selected must be at optimal and most aesthetically pleasing levels as given by Schrodinger in his 1919 article Theorie der Pigmente von größter Leuchtkraft. Seeing as the expression you're wearing is clearly confused, it means 'Theory of Pigments with Highest Luminosity'."
"… why the hell do we have to consult physics about color combinations?"
"It was actually founded by a chemist, but that is beside the point. By using the standards set by physics, we can select the most pleasing levels of color as I have previously stated!"
"Yeah, but have you taken into account our own skin, hair and eye colors?"
"And why would I care about such a trivial and superficial matter? My outward appearance has little relevance to the aesthetics—"
"Yeah? Well screw your aesthetics! Take 'em and ram 'em up your butt, Sheldon Cooper! 'Cause you know what? My aesthetics are always pleasing and I don't use frakkin' physics! I pick colors that match my season!"
"… I beg your pardon?"
"Well, it's really basic. Since I'm a blonde with light eyes, I'm a 'summer' and summers look good in pastels, lavenders, plums, rose-brown, soft blue colors, and soft neutrals that have either rose or blue undertones. You're probably a 'winter', what with that pasty white skin, dark hair, and blue eyes. You should wear um, probably stark, sharp colors. White, navy blue, um, probably some reds. Icy pastels should be good, too. You definitely can't wear beige, orange, or gold."
"… Penny, are you really basing my wardrobe colors upon physical details rather than science?"
"Duh. Seriously, Sheldon, leave the fashion to me. If your outfits are anything to go by, my help is desperately needed, honey."
"My clothes are perfectly acceptable, how dare you?"
"Pff, yeah, perfectly acceptable for a ten year old who still wets the bed and picks his nose. Yeah, shudder away, Rocket Scientist."
"I am a theoretical physicist, Penny! I am a Homo novus, devoted to science and all it offers, including optimally pleasing color combinations."
"Yeah, well, your science is good in theory but like Communism, fails in practice."
"I beg your pardon, Penny. Your ignorance has no bounds! Shall I offer an example of science succeeding? Tell me, Penny, does a held apple fall when one overturns an outstretched hand?"
"… yes?"
"Case in point! That example proves science in practice—Newtonian physics, to be absolutely precise—obviously does not fail as you have claimed."
"Jeez, you gotta' be literal, don't you? Well, anyway, what I meant was it's not practical all the time. Sometimes other details overshadow science-y stuff."
"I cannot accept what you are saying as truth."
"I'll freakin' prove it to you! I'll put you in orange and take a picture and then put you in blue and take a picture. You can compare them side by side and I can guarantee you'd look better in blue."
"…"
"HA! I win."
"Absolutely not. I was simply thinking."
"But you didn't have a reply! I'm right and you know it!"
"Preposterous!"
"Dammit, Sheldon! Get in there."
"What are you—agh! This changing room is contaminated! There could be Clostridium difficile or-or—God forbid!—Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus in here!"
"Whatever the hell that crap is, I doubt it's in the room for cryin' out loud! So too damn bad, I'm getting you some shirts."
"Penny! P-People have gotten naked in here!"
"Well, duh. It's a changing room. Uh, ma'am?—"
"Penny, I'm hyperventilating!"
"—can you find me two shirt and sweater combinations? Yeah, an orange sweater with a—"
"Oh dear God! There's hair on the floor! I-It's matted and—"
"—button-down and a navy sweater with a second button-down, if you could."
"—oh Lord, it's got something in it! Eek! Penny, I need some Purell! I touched the seat!"
"Um, probably light knit with a V-neck—SHUT UP, SHELDON!—ah, yes, um, a men's tall."
"Purell! Oh, Lord, where's my inhaler? My pharynx is closing!"
"No, I don't know the exact size—SHELDON, YOU'RE FINE!—Jesus, wom—"
"Mama'd be angry at you for bringing Jesus in—"
"—an, you saw him! He's six foot something and skinny as all hell! Just find the damn sweaters!"
"Penny!"
"What, Sheldon?"
"… nothing."
Pinching the bridge of her nose and muttering angrily under her breath, Penny swore her Praying Mantis was going to drive her utterly bonkers. They'd been shopping—much to Sheldon's chagrin—and browsing the shelves of a department store for only a few minutes and already he was arguing with her over fashion sense—something which he had none of to begin with! Sure, his bizarre clothing combinations suited him sometimes, but it wasn't really appropriate for all walks of life. Truly, secretly, she loved his geeky t-shirts. Without them, he just wouldn't be the same Sheldon but … ohhh, how she wanted to get his tight little ass in a well-fitting pair of dark denim jeans! Her mouth watered at the thought before she shook herself from her inner musings.
He thought that heinous plaid blazers were the epitome of high fashion. She often told him otherwise, especially so in the prior ten minutes. Her physicist really was adorable, but she knew he had so much more potential! And Penny hated to see it wasted. As she stood outside his dressing room after handing off the articles of clothing the sales clerk had returned with, she thought back on the few days she'd been home.
She'd fallen asleep on him that first day, but he was gone when she'd awakened from her tear-and-laughter induced nap. During her catnap, he'd apparently gotten himself disentangled from her, put her pillow in his place, and covered her with that hideous blanket she'd crocheted with her aunt while visiting her at the hospital before she passed on back in middle school. Waking without him had been very bittersweet, and secretly she had hoped that he would stay with her through the night. Unfortunately, he hadn't. The next day, they'd gone to the comic book store per Sheldon's no-room-for-deviation schedule. She smirked at the memory of stunning him speechless …
"Penny, why are you talking to me? It is New Comic Book day and I wish to find a suitable one and then leave. You are occupying my time when it should be spent on deciding whether to select DC or Marvel," he'd groused, not looking up from his comic book choice. She'd watched his impossibly blue eyes dart across the page he had been on, nearly hypnotized by the beautiful color.
"I have a question."
He'd turned to her then, shooting a look that had been clearly displeased.
"Okay, so I've got this issue. I've been reading all the Batman comics that I borrowed from you, but some of the stuff from the '70s isn't making any sense. I'm a fan of Selena and Bruce—"
Sheldon blinked, clearly processing her statement, "Catwoman and Batman?"
"Yeah."
He'd put down his comic book and given her an interested look, motioning with his hand, "Continue."
"Anyway, stuff from the '70s isn't making much sense. I mean, Selena as a murderer? I just don't see that happening."
His face had alit like fireworks, "Ah, the Earth-B plight."
"Huh?"
Sheldon had gone into full-on lecture mode and it had made Penny smile. After all, she secretly loved it when he was like that, so passionate and willing to educate her—someone he usually considered so beneath him intellectually. His impromptu tutoring often made her wonder about other things.
"The stories from the 1970s are some of my least favorites. The dramatic difference was so out of character that this version of Catwoman was assigned to the alternate world of Earth-B, a proxy Earth that included stories that could not be considered canonical on Earth-One or Earth-Two."
"Oh! Okay, that's good. I like Selena. I probably wouldn't like her so much any more if she'd committed murder."
He'd scoffed, "Of course, you women and your distaste for murder."
She'd glared half-heartedly at him, fisting her hands on her hips in challenge, "And what, you appreciate it?"
He'd shot her a blank look, "If it's done exceptionally creatively," he'd paused, causing Penny to worry that maybe that one lab accident had happened when he finished with a "bazinga."
She'd laughed, relieved and amused.
"However, Penny, the 1989 "Catwoman: Her Sister's Keeper" documents the murder of Selina's former romantic partner."
She'd tilted her head to the side in question, "Did she have a reason?"
"He had kidnapped and abused her sister Maggie. Although the story is not well received by many—"
"Oh. That's fine then."
He furrowed his brow like he did when something was illogical to him, an expression Penny absolutely loved, "You have just contradicted yourself. You previously stated you probably would not like Selina's character had she committed murder."
"Yeah, but in this case she saved her sister. It's a paradox like the 'if you could push a button and save a trainload of people but kill those waiting on the platform or just let the train crash and kill only those on the train.' There's really no right answer."
"That's very insightful of you, Penny."
"I try."
She'd smiled and would swear she'd seen his lips twitch upwards.
That had been a good day. The second was uneventful, spent making calls about premieres and outfits and appearances. Misery. The only good thing that had happened was when her friend Franz called to ask about her sad excuse for a love life …
"Hello?"
"Penny, dear! It's Franz!"
She'd immediately brightened at the sound of her androgynous friend's voice, sitting down on the couch and curling up in her crocheted blanket, nursing her glass of red wine.
"Francine! What a surprise!"
"Darling, how many times do I have to tell you? It's Franz! Franz!"
Penny'd laughed loudly, "Of course, Franz. So, sweetie, what's the occasion?"
"Ohh, how I love those words on your tongue, dear one," the other had crooned dramatically before sobering, "No particular reason. Simply calling to see how my little A-lister is doing."
"Franz! Don't be ridiculous!" she'd blushed, "I'm not an A-lister!"
Her friend's voice had wavered in a quiet chuckle, "Truthfully, I just wanted to ask you how you were readjusting. I hope the anti-jetlag medication I'd suggested worked? Whenever I have to go to Paris for shows it always does the trick for me."
"Yeah, that stuff was great! Seriously. Slept like a baby and I've adjusted really easily! You're the best, Franz."
"Aw, I know, aren't I? Anyway, in all seriousness: how is the good Doctor?"
Penny'd grimaced and her chest had tightened uncomfortably at the thought of Sheldon and her feelings for him, "He's as clueless as ever, Franz," she mumbled somewhat sadly, flexing her fingers around the clear vessel for her wine.
"Figures. How could the stupid man not see you? Hell, you're sex on legs! He can't be for real if he's only interested in work and stupid hobbies! Penny, just give up on him and come to me!" the androgynous woman whined.
"The offer is generous, Franz, but unfortunately I don't bat for both teams. But you're right—unfortunately. I feel like our relationship is doomed to be a platonic one, despite my hopes."
"Oh, darling! Don't give up yet! I know I said to, but it was a joke! Honest! He'll come around! You're a charming woman! And well, if he doesn't come around, I'll introduce him to the frying pan of hurt."
Penny'd snorted in a most unladylike way, "He's never expressed any interest in women. Like, ever. He has one chick he hangs out with aside from me, but he's never expressed an interest in her. My other boys joke that one day he'll just be all mitosis-y and there'll be two of him, or that he'll spin a cocoon and sleep and emerge as some scary-ass new species. There's also the robot theory."
Franz had burst out in hysterics, "A-Are you serious right now?"
"Serious as a heart attack."
"Oh Penny," Franz sighed, "Well, what about wowing him with a new outfit?"
"Franz. Be real. The man doesn't notice that I walk around with my ass cheeks half hanging outta' my booty shorts and low cut shirts and push up bras," she snarked before chuckling and sipping her wine, "You just wanna' get me to model for you."
"Yes, but that's beside the point! How about this, I make you a custom dress for the premiere. You know, something guaranteed to catch his eye and make him go hubba-hubba bow-chicka-WOWZA!"
It had been Penny's turn to break into hysterics, "O-Okay, you know I can't say no to a custom dress by you! How about I email you with some ideas and we figure out where we wanna' take this?"
"Sounds delightful, m'dear! I'll be awaiting your email! Chin up, okay, babe? You'll catch your elusive Doctor Whackadoodle. Just you wait!"
"Thanks, Francine. Really."
"Anytime, babe. Anytime. Love yah!"
"Love yah too!"
After hanging up, Penny had been so excited she couldn't resist researching and going utterly overboard. The email she ended up sending Franz had been massive and filled with hyperlinks and attached files. The fashion designer had not been perturbed but utterly excited. This dress was going to be amazing with a capital A!
"Penny?"
The blonde was dragged back to reality by Sheldon's voice, "Yes, honey?"
"Are you really going to be taking photographs?"
"Absolutely."
"… darn."
He stepped out in the orange sweater ensemble and Penny felt her eye twitch. While the color on its own was actually quite a nice shade of ochre, it just looked awful on Sheldon. The color made his skin take the tone of someone with liver failure or who was slowly turning into a Simpsons' character. She held up her phone and snapped a picture, "Okay, get that atrocious thing off and put on the other one."
"…" his grumbling was soft and Penny almost missed it as he locked himself in the changing room again. She laughed as she heard him growling something about taking a Purell bath when he got home, that luscious Texan drawl making itself apparent with his agitation. She licked her lips hungrily before flushing as she caught herself in the lusty action. She returned to her memories of recent days.
Her third day home she'd spent researching Star Trek and streaming some of the episodes online. The series was surprisingly wonderful and she found she also was in love with Spock's character. The logic loving Vulcan was easily becoming her favorite but she supposed she was biased, considering the similarities between the fictional alien and her beloved neighbor. She also found it really incredible that her boys knew Klingon. That would never be something she could learn, after all it was hard enough making a movie that was mostly in another language, albeit a fake one. It still just blew her away with how smart her Whackadoodle was.
"Penny?"
"Yes, honey?"
"I'm done."
He stepped out of the room and Penny felt her breath catch. The navy blue sweater was lightweight and had a small red moose embroidered above the left breast near the V-neck collar and just ghosted his lithe frame. His black-and-blue striped, long-sleeve dress shirt complimented the paleness of his skin and made his eyes glow. The dark colors complimented his pale skin, making it appear milky and soft. She tilted her head to the side, imagining different shirt and sweater combinations. Had he been wearing a white or ice blue button-down shirt underneath that navy sweater, he would look sharp and very, very attractive. She snapped a picture.
"Okay, we're done. You can change. I want you to buy those you're wearing, though."
"Why?"
"Because it looks good. Now change so we can pay and go."
Sheldon sighed, "Very well."
-T – B – B – T–
"… so I was surprised to find that in Star Trek V and VI Uhura was a romantic interest for Scotty. Personally, I find it better to pair her with Spock, per the new movie. Because, I mean, come on! All those little moments in the original series? Seriously! She sang a song about him in Charlie X! Not to mention all the others! You know, the ones in episodes Who Mourns for Adonais, That Which Survives, Is There No Truth in Beauty, Tomorrow is Yesterday, The Immunity Syndrome, The Man Trap, The Changeling, and Bread and Circuses!" she recounted, ticking back fingers as she listed off episodes.
"I can see your point, and you back it up with valid proof; however I fail to see the importance of romance in the series."
"Romance is always there. It isn't fair that Kirk gets all the girls!"
"I suppose you are right. However, Vulcans are taught to be logical, not emotional—"
"Sheldon, I'm surprised at you. Do you not remember that his mother, Amanda Grayson, was human and that Sarek married her not only out of obligation but because he fell in love with her?"
"Ah. You are right. Although I must ask, when did you become so well versed in Star Trek?"
"Oh, behind your back. I've been saving it all up just to rub it in your face."
"Well, congratulations, my face has been rubbed."
Penny laughed, swinging open the door of the apartment building.
"Ooh, I wonder if it came!"
"If what came?"
She smiled, "Oh, my Grammie sent me some stuff."
"I see."
She bounded to her mailbox, seeing a package on the table with her name on it. The return address was hand written and the scrawl was in excellent, old style penmanship.
"Oh, yay!" she tore into the wrapping tape, pulling the box apart. On top of tissue paper, a white piece of paper sat, an elegant "Penelope" scrawled on it. Breaking the wax seal with "HC" on it, she skimmed through the letter.
Dearest Penelope,
I do hope you enjoy these, I had fun making them. Tell Sheldon I say hello.
Live long and prosper, was it?
Grammie, H.C.
"Aw, Grammie! You're so cute!"
Sheldon lurked over her shoulder like a curious giraffe, "Why is your Grammie telling me hello? Oh, well I'm surprised she is well versed in Star Trek—"
"Shush, you!"
She dug around in the cardboard box, pulling out two smaller white ones, each labeled differently with an "S" and a "P".
"This is yours, honey."
He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "What?"
"It's for you from my Grammie. A gift for all the help you gave me. Don't worry, you don't need to reciprocate."
"Good. I wouldn't know what to purchase a member of your family I have never been acquainted with."
Sheldon opened the box carefully and when he looked inside he stared open mouthed at what was inside.
"Oh my Lord …"
"Awesome, right? I had Mr. Nimoy sign something for me and Grammie embroidered a copy of his signature onto a Star Trek themed scarf! See? It's even in the science division colors with the right logo and stuff! So d'ya like it?"
She didn't think his eyes could get any wider, the childish expression making him look so utterly vulnerable, "L-Leonard Nimoy did this for you a-and your Grammie?"
She nodded, "Grammie even made a matching scarf for me!" she exclaimed, holding up her near-identical one in the same science division blue.
"Penny, how can—"
"Come with me to the premiere. That's thanks enough."
He nodded solemnly, allowing the hand that held the scarf clench and drop to his side. He took two long strides towards her, and without awkwardness he managed to embrace Penny tightly and fiercely. She melted, his affirmation bringing happy tears to her eyes.
"I will."
A/N: Aaaaand that's a wrap! I hope you all enjoyed this! I'll update again as soon as I'm able! Review please! I accept anonymous ones! DO IT! Please and thank you.
