Spoilers: Up to 03x15 - The Large Hadron Collision to be safe, events happen in a slightly alternate universe in the near future
Disclaimer: I don't own any part of The Big Bang Theory. I'm just borrowing their universe for my own entertainment.
Word Count: ~2200 (~13900 total)
Sheldon sleeps for a day and a half. Midway through, the guys are able to rouse him long enough for him to stumble into his bed and pass out again. Penny is a little appalled they didn't feed him and glares them into feeling guilty while they feebly make excuses.
When Sheldon finally does get up, he breaks protocol not only to eat breakfast at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, but to go through two nearly full boxes of cereal (one each from the high and low end of the fiber-content lineup).
He's sitting at his desk, furiously typing away on his laptop, when she walks in Saturday evening.
"Sheldon! You're awake!"
"Indeed," he replies, not looking at her.
The smile she had on when she walked in the door slips a little, not that he notices since he's not looking at her.
"What are you up to?"
"Writing up my findings from the past several days."
Silence falls between them and Penny almost leaves, but then Sheldon finishes typing with a flourish and turns to her.
"Penny, I feel I must express my gratitude for your assistance yesterday."
Her eyes widen. "You mean....when I..."
He nods. "Yes, when you broke my fall, avoiding the possibility of a severe head injury--after such an important breakthrough, too. What a loss to science that would have been!"
Penny grimaces and nods absently as Sheldon, now back to his regular behavior, rambles on for several long sentences. Belatedly, she realizes he asked her a question.
"What?"
Sheldon sighs and she flinches. She knows he doesn't like to repeat himself.
"Will you be joining us for dinner?"
"Oh, um, no, not tonight. I'm...going out to meet some girl friends," she lies.
"Very well," Sheldon replies, turning back to his laptop.
She makes her way to the door and looks back at him for a moment before quietly leaving him to work. Penny trudges the short distance back to her apartment and flops on her couch.
She should be happy, she tells herself. Sheldon is back to normal. It's what she'd wanted, right?
Right.
Except...not.
He clearly doesn't remember what happened between them and she clearly does. A lot. In fact, if she tries any harder to forget kissing him, she'll probably give herself an aneurysm.
And, like all previous attempts to forget, the thoughts and sensations flood her mind. She remembers his warmth. She remembers how surprised she was at the softness of his lips. But mostly she remembers all the ways things didn't progress after he pushed her into the refrigerator.
"Get a hold of yourself, girl!" she admonishes herself, slapping the couch cushion in frustration.
This is Sheldon. Sheldon. Sheldon Lee Cooper, Ph.D., the highly evolved super genius physicist who annoys her on a daily basis, points out her flaws with no regard to her feelings, and is beyond the need (or want) for human interaction.
Penny tries to convince herself she's only fixating on the man because she needs to get some, but the thought of going out to find some random guy repulses her so much she actually feels nauseated. So, instead, she stays on the couch, flips the TV to some sappy chick flick, and feels sorry for herself. She's allowed to wallow in self pity sometimes, right?
Things remain relatively normal for a few weeks.
Sheldon sticks to his routines. Leonard takes joy in the fact that he's living at home again. Howard and Raj visit like they used to.
But Penny is decidedly not back to normal. She seems to be floundering, to be in her own version of "stuck", but she has no equations on whiteboards to help her through it all. It's as if witnessing Sheldon, the smartest person she knows, get so stuck he nearly lost himself made something in her own mind click and assess itself. She just wishes her brain would clue her in as to what is going on, because she can't really put her finger on it and she doesn't know what to do.
She's sitting on her washer one laundry night when Sheldon walks in, right on schedule.
"Penny."
"Hey, Sheldon," she says absently, bare feet kicking a little on the side of the machine.
They say nothing to each other as he puts his laundry into the remaining machines.
"Are you well?" he asks abruptly.
"What?" she asks. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"You've missed the last two Halo nights. Your previous frequency of joining us for dinner was approximately 77.3% and has now dropped below 30%. And the number of, shall we say, your nighttime visitors has dropped to zero."
Penny blinks as the list comes flying out of his mouth. "Have you been watching me?"
Sheldon frowns slightly. "I'm merely commenting on the break in your normal patterns."
She sighs. "Sorry, Sheldon, I just haven't been feeling very...social, of late."
He nods enthusiastically, clasping his hands behind his back. "I, too, sometimes find the excessive exposure to social situations overwhelming, which is why I avoid the kinds of social outings in which you normally participate."
She nods absently, wonders if he's subtly indicating he'd prefer to be alone in the laundry room.
Sheldon fidgets a little and Penny looks at him quizzically. "What?"
"While I am by no means an expert at interpreting body language, I am compelled to ask again: are you well?"
She just stares at him.
"You appear to be exhibiting the signs of someone who is feeling 'down'."
Ah. She must really be in a mood if Sheldon can pick up on it.
"It's okay, sweetie. I don't really want to talk about it."
"All right," he says, turning away.
"It's just that my life hasn't really been going the way I thought it would and I've been thinking about it more, lately."
Sheldon turns back to her, a perplexed look on his face. "I was given to believe you didn't want to talk about it."
She shrugs. "Sometimes we don't really know what we want."
He seems to go through some mental struggle and then stiffly leans against an adjacent washer. "You may continue, if you wish."
She's torn between gratitude and guilt. She knows he hates this kind of thing but she also knows he won't coddle her or give her false comfort. Annoying and blunt as he can be, Sheldon at least always tells her the honest truth, and while she might not always want to hear it, she's usually grateful he does in the long run.
"It's just the normal stuff," she says. "Waitressing sucks. Auditioning sucks. I can't even get the smallest, tiniest parts. It's like I'm running in place, treading water, whatever. I'm stuck."
He's quiet and she's relatively sure he's not going to reply when he finally does speak.
"Would it help if I...returned the favor?"
She looks at him blankly. He couldn't mean...
Sheldon squirms under her gaze.
"What do you mean by 'favor'?"
"Why, a kiss, of course."
Penny nearly falls off her washing machine.
"What?!"
And her heart is in her throat because she's pretty sure she knows what this means. It means he remembers.
He looks away shyly and Penny just wants to gather him in her arms and hold him tight.
"I...admit that your actions several weeks ago were the impetus for my breakthrough at the time, despite the violation of my personal space."
She's gaping and staring and speechless. Sheldon fidgets.
"You mean...when I kissed you?"
"Of course." He's still not looking at her.
"I didn't think you remembered."
His eyes snap to hers. "Penny, I remember everything."
She nods absently, still trying to work out why he would even offer. "I thought for sure you would've given me a strike for invading your personal space."
"Under normal circumstances, that would have been the case."
"But that wasn't a normal circumstance?"
"Far from it," Sheldon explained. "In fact, as my mind was attempting to work through the finer points of the equations in my latest research, I'd inadvertently fallen into a sort of infinite loop. Your actions helped break me out of that loop."
"They did? How?"
He looks at her. "My mind went blank."
She blinks. And then she giggles. He frowns.
"I'm sorry, Sheldon. I'm not laughing at you. It's just...that's such a normal response."
He looks almost pouty and she struggles to find the right words. "I mean that in a good way."
"I don't see how," he grumbles.
She reaches out to put a hand on his arm but backs off at the last second. "Um, about your question. I'm...grateful for the offer, but you don't have to do that."
"I don't?" He looks genuinely puzzled.
"No," she says. "You don't. Although, I wouldn't mind a hug, but really, it's okay. I don't want you to do something you don't want to do."
"Penny, you will know far better than I," Sheldon starts. "But in these...comfort situations...I believe the idea is that the situation is about what you want, not what I want."
She stares at him once more and wonders where all this insight is coming from. She opens her mouth to form a sarcastic reply but his features are so earnest and she realizes that he's trying, really trying to be nice to her for her own benefit.
"It's up to you," she finally says.
He says nothing and she can tell he's thinking. She imagines a whiteboard behind his eyes and wonders what exactly he's trying to work out. He's quiet for so long she starts to feel uncomfortable staring at him so she drops her gaze to her lap and her heels continue tapping against the washer.
And then Sheldon's moving towards her and she's surprised when his hand comes up to lift her chin. When his lips touch hers, it's her turn for her mind to go blank and then all she thinks about is him.
His lips are soft and warm, just like she remembers. She kisses him back, just a little, and her heart soars when she feels him respond. She doesn't know how long they stay that way, gently kissing, but they're both a little startled when the washing machine loudly kicks into spin cycle and they move apart.
Their eyes are wide as they stare at each other. They are closer than they were before and Sheldon's hands are on either side of her legs on the washer.
"Thank you," she breathes, immediately feeling dumb.
"Did it work?" he asks. She's irrationally happy that his voice has a slight quiver to it.
"I don't know," she admits. "But I definitely feel better."
And confused. Oh, so confused. But she doesn't tell him that. Because now she thinks she knows what he was thinking earlier.
It goes something like this (but way more complicated, since it's Sheldon): given the choice between a hug and a kiss, and given the effect her kiss has on him, Sheldon can only reciprocate with a kiss of his own not only to come up with an equivalent response but also to have any hope of an equal effect on her. He is, after all, excessively concerned with equivalent reciprocity. Or something. She doesn't know where germs play into this, but it doesn't seem to be part of the equation. Or, at least, it's a negligible factor.
And she's okay with that.
At least, for the moment.
Maybe.
But they're not ready for anything more. Sheldon certainly isn't and she isn't exactly sure she is, either.
Penny's washing machine dings when it completes its cycle and Sheldon moves aside. They're still staring at each other as she hops to the ground, but then she's the one to break away first and she turns to move her laundry to the dryer.
"Um, Sheldon?"
"Yes, Penny." He's studiously reading the only sign in the laundry room. It has less than 10 words on it but he's staring it down as if it's an important dissertation that requires his full attention.
"Could you keep an eye on my laundry for a little bit? I need to run upstairs and do...something in my apartment."
She expects a lecture about the perils of leaving her laundry unattended, but instead he just replies: "Yes, Penny."
"Thanks."
And then she's fleeing from the room, her heart racing with more than just the exertion of running up all the stairs to her apartment.
She doesn't know what's going on. She's trying to figure out what the hell just happened and she's trying desperately not to read too much into it.
After she calms down, she starts to rationalize.
Sheldon doesn't do spontaneous and he's traditionally somewhat thick when it comes to thoughtful behaviors, especially if it requires physical contact. She convinces herself the only reason he offered anything was because she helped him out of a tough spot.
Penny takes a few deep breaths and splashes cold water on her face.
When she goes back down to the laundry room, Sheldon's folding his clothes. He's already folded hers and she thanks him as she grabs her basket and heads back to her place. There's only the tiniest bit of awkwardness but they're looking each other in the eyes again and she thinks to herself that she was right, it was just something he did to fulfill whatever weird reciprocation thing he had. By the time she reaches her apartment, she almost believes it.
Except it keeps happening.
End Part 2