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Penny had stewed for days... How to plan this? How to top it? If you'd told her two weeks ago that she would be in some kind of sexual one-upping contest with Sheldon she'd have laughed in your face and privately thought, 'I wish'. Well, now here she was.
Somehow, she was in some sort of twisted, so-far secret relationship with him, a sexual one, and they hadn't even kissed, they hadn't talked about it, there hadn't been any lingering looks or longing sighs or awkward flirtation, or hell, ANY flirtation.
She didn't even know what his DEAL was!
Just because she'd brought him off with her hand, and he'd returned the favour, didn't necessarily mean that he swung that way, or the other way, or any way at all. Sheldon always returned favours. It was a non-optional social convention!
So she'd sat down with a pencil and a piece of paper she'd dug out of an old notebook she'd had forever and tried to figure out what could possibly turn his crank, using the assumption that he did in fact like girls, and that he did in fact like her (possibly a lot to ask, but hey, dream big right?). So far all she'd come up with was things he did that turned HER crank.
Clearly, he liked arguing. He liked being challenged. But for the next escalation in this war, to one up the Three big O's, she was going to have to go on her knees. She was kinda looking forward to it actually, but that wasn't just the kind of thing you could just walk up to someone (Sheldon) and do.
Well, she supposed she could. Just wait till bed time and then slip into his room, put her hand over his mouth and slip beneath the sheets, her hand leading the way and her mouth following and her tongue tasting... But that wouldn't really be right.
No. She wanted, she NEEDED, him to want it. To want her mouth on him, to enjoy it fully. She wanted the power back, that she'd had that night, Sheldon, for once in his life, completely, utterly, in the moment.
How to make him want her?
Skimpy clothes didn't seem to do much for him, she'd been around him in practically nothing and he hadn't batted an eye, though he had peeked that one time. She didn't really think he'd like it if she dressed up as Princess Leia, the colour of her hair being wrong for the role would probably distract him too much, and she hated wigs. She wasn't going to wear her work uniform, though maybe at a later stage in the relationship, she mused silently.
She was sucking on the end of the pencil, the same way she had always done in school, when thinking about something she shouldn't be, that it came to her.
He didn't seem to have a thing for students. But he did like power. He liked to share his knowledge.
She grinned. It was going to have to be some kind of secretary slash sidekick thing. The Rose Tyler to his Doctor. Only in those Denim shorts that he'd seemed to like her in, she hadn't worn them in years but they still fit.
Which would work in nicely with her own little hangups, because she'd always wanted to call him Doctor, and she'd always had a fatal attraction to a deep toned Texan growl, which she just KNEW she could get out of him if she played her cards right. He hadn't lived in Texas for a long time, but it still slipped from time to time, never in the low tone that he was capable of, and she wanted to hear it.
So she waited, until a night (because she was at her best at night) when Leonard was working late and Raj and Howard were out on the prowl.
She waited, dressed in those faded denim shorts, and soft blue button up shirt that covered way more than she usually had covered, but was softer than silk and looked good on her, for the silence to descend in the apartment across the hall, meaning that Sheldon had turned off the tv and was settled in in front of his computer, or better yet in his room.
Then she crossed the hall and slipped in the door, and locked it behind her. The living room was empty, she smiled.
She walked over to his latest whiteboard and stood in front of it, humming softly, just loud enough for him to hear.
Within seconds he was standing in the hallway looking at her. "What are you doing?" He asked.
His eyes had flickered on the shorts, and he looked vaguely off kilter, she knew what he had been doing, or going to do, what she had interrupted. What perfect timing.
She touched the whiteboard, and licked her lips. "What are you working on?" She asked softly.
He stepped closer, his mouth opening and words coming out that made no sense whatsoever, but she stared at him, fascinated.
She DID like it when he talked sciencey.
He pointed to something on the board, and then paused abruptly. "Wait a minute, why do you care?"
She widened her eyes. "I love it when you go all beautiful mind on me." She stared at him, then turned back to the board, her finger touching where his last had. "What does this symbol mean?"
He explained it, carefully, his eyes watching her, trying to figure out her next move.
She nodded, and moved her finger to another one. "And this one?"
She wasn't pretending her interest, she'd always wanted to ask, it just never seemed the right time, and now...
He sighed and crossed to his desk, booting up the laptop and sitting in the chair, motioning her over. "I'll show you a website which covers basic physics and maths."
She hid her grin. He was now seated, in the perfect position.
Crossing over to him, she put her hand on his shoulder and lent down, her breath hot in his ear, "But wouldn't you rather explain it to me yourself?" She paused for a brief second, "Doctor?"
He was absolutely still, until the chair swung around so he was facing her, his eyes suddenly dark. "Penny?"
She ran her hand down his shirt slowly as she leaned in closer. "Yes Doctor?"
He took a deep breath, and she knew she had him, she sunk to her knees and ran her hands up his thighs.
"Penny, what are you doing?" He asked again, his voice definitely lower.
She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his knee, then his thigh.
He was very, very still.
His breathing was not.
She looked up at him, as her hands slid up his thighs again, to the button and zipper on his pants. "Tell me about Pi." She whispered.
"3.14" He automatically supplied, his brain sending the rest of the numbers out his mouth but he wasn't really paying attention, as most parts of him were paying far too much attention to Penny, on her knees, in front of him, between his legs (how had she got there?) and his pants being open and her hand on him again, and then her tongue on her lips and then OH DEAR LORD.
After experiencing what he had learned on Google, she'd done a bit of googling herself, just to make sure there wasn't any good tricks she didn't know, and she was now putting what she had learned to good use.
He wasn't in command of his body any more, even his brain, once her tongue touched him, had decided to pay attention. Strict attention. His whole being was focused on feeling, and seeing, the sight in front of him.
Somehow his hand had brushed a strand of hair back from her face, and her eyes had looked up at him, and he'd whispered her name in pure red-blooded baritone Texan, and the noise she had made in her throat had gone straight through him. His eyes had widened, and he'd stiffened, and his hand wanted to both push her away and hold her head down, but then she made the noise again, and it didn't matter, it was all over.
His head was leaned back, and he was staring at the ceiling, not seeing it. The floaty feeling was back.
A hand touched his face, and Penny smiled down at him, she'd stood up, she had licked her lips again, and smiled, thanked him for the informative lesson, and said good night, then whisking herself off to her own apartment, the grin hiding the shakiness of her knees, the lock on her door stopping her from flinging herself back across the hall and into his arms.
For several minutes he just sat there, thinking. He had expected, possibly even hoped for, a bit more of what had happened in the laundry room. This had not been in his realm of possibilities, but she had one upped him good.
Then he turned to Google to find out exactly what had happened and how he could possibly top it.
Or at least get it to happen again.