CHAPTER:

He bathed twice a day, because the streets of Pasadena were dirty. He would have preferred a shower, but this apartment did not come fitted with one (so far as he had been able to see, none did), and while he would no doubt benefit from the reputed therapeutic properties, the mere cost of such a thing was more than three years rent, not to mention the need to completely re-plumb the bathroom for the model he desired, and the inability to take it with him should he ever leave. All in all, he had been lucky to find a place with not only the tub, sink and toilet all in one room, but the tub was fully connected as well, just turn the tap and there was water... Back in Texas you only saw that in the mansions, though he supposed the recent bathing advancements had progressed there as well. His mother, of course, was inclined to avoid the mere mention of showers, holding to the belief's of her childhood, that they were for men, and women were far to delicate to sustain them.

He wondered what Penny would think of that? Probably she would agree with his sister, that it was all balderdash and women weren't too delicate to do anything. He agreed, privately, because by the time he'd made it out of his mothers womb with his sister still gripping his ankle painfully, he'd known women being delicate was a pack of pretty lies. By the time he was two he'd had proof in a bloody nose and two black eyes resulting from his experimental decapitation of her favourite doll.

Women, were not delicate. They were conniving, and dangerous, and smelled good, which was why he avoided them as much as possible. They seemed hell bent on getting him married, marrying him, or making his bathroom smell lingeringly of lavender and sunshine, which was even worse, because he could get used to that.

He frowned and slumped farther into the tub. It was new, in the new style, "fitted" they called it. He wished it was a little deeper. His bony knees stuck out like dock supports at low tide, unless he hung his feet over the other end, which looked even more ridiculous than it felt. "Fitted" tubs, it seemed, were not made for tall men, much like most sofas and certainly most beds, the ones on trains in particular.

He did like trains. He'd even gone to the New York World's fair to see the new British LMS Streamliner, a silver and blue masterpiece of steam locomotion, class sister number 6220, the very sight of it had filled him with awe and something akin to desire. He'd touched it, even walked through, it was everything a train should be. Modern technology was wonderful...

His neck developed a cramp and he frowned again. Except in tubs. Modern technology was severely lacking in the bathing department. With a sigh, he sat up and reached for the soap, working up a lather in his hands before scrubbing his scalp.

Oh, dirty Pasadena. At least his hair was kept short, Penny must have a terrible time with the washing of hers, the long blonde strands would be difficult to rinse without aid, he remembered being forced to help his sister when he was younger, a pleasant memory actually, as he rather enjoyed dumping large buckets of water on her head, though his mother had continually scolded him that it was meant to be poured gently and not just up-ended.

He wouldn't mind up-ending a bucket of water over Penny's head. She'd probably squeal and then beat the daylights out of him, but he was a fast runner, and she would have to get dressed first, and...

He coughed. Dear lord, how had he got to picturing Penny naked in the tub?

The visit from Commissioner Gablehouser must have upset him more than he originally thought. Curious, because he could have sworn it hadn't upset him at all. How Gablehouser had managed to rise through the ranks to become Commissioner, he didn't know, the man had all the intelligence of a knat, and as usual he had tried to pin the death on him, but in the face of so many witnesses to his whereabouts all afternoon, indeed, all day, Gablehouser had turned his attention to flirting with Penny over the sheet covered corpse of Kripke, while the camera flashes popped all around them. She had excused herself feigning emotional distress, though when he found her in his room later, sprawled on his bed reading his new comic book, she had appeared cheerful enough.

Yet another example of the deviousness of women.

To be fair, if feigning emotional distress had got him out of Gablehousers company, he'd have done it too, pity he hadn't thought of it years ago.

AH, there was the reason for his unusual thoughts. She had been in his room! People didn't go in his room. He'd pointed it out to her, again, and she had replied that since most of her clothing was hanging in his closet, she had to be expected to be his room at some point, unless he was going to choose her clothing for her each day, and her expression had strongly indicated that answering that it had indeed been his plan would result in him with a black eye, at the very least. He had twitched compulsively for a full thirty seconds, he was sure of it, before responding that she could have gone to Leonard's room. She had rolled her eyes and enquired why she would do that, when going to his room was guaranteed to turn him into little twitchy bits of physicist? Her voice had implied that this was both an amusing and desirable outcome.

The best response he'd been able to come up with, was that at six foot two inches tall, nothing about him, was little.

It was at this point that Leonard had interrupted by knocking on the door and sticking his head in to inform them that the corpse and crowd had both been removed, and the living room was now safe again, having been thoroughly disinfected by himself, with a smile that was supposed to be winning directed at Penny. It appeared that Penny's false distress had motivated Leonard to clean, a happy accident all around, as it meant that Sheldon could now go directly to his bath, and his schedule would be then back on course.

Which brought him back to now.

The death of a cop was no small thing, even if it was Kripke. This case had been escalated to a degree he was not entirely comfortable with. Not only had the killer, presumed to be the director-ex, killed an officer of the law, he had left him leaning up against their door, as a sort of warning.

Unless it was the large man who had done, or ordered the death as incentive for them to co-operate. This meant that both the large man, and the director-ex, knew where they lived.

He frowned again. People did seem to have an easy time finding out where he lived. Numerous food bearing grad students located him every year, and in the past, the odd crook had as well, but he had always been able to get the upper hand, despite Leonard's bumbling. He now had to account for Penny as well. She was tolerable with a gun, which would be an asset, and would be underestimated, by all except the director-ex, an excellent strategy. He would discuss this with her, privately, as Leonard would protest and make annoying noises, and Howard and Raj had departed with the police. So then the next immediate problem was how to get Leonard out of the way, without putting him in danger, as if irretrievable harm came to Leonard, he would need to find a new room mate, and that would be an inconvenience at this point in time. It's hard to get renters when your last was brutally murdered.

It would have to be internal distress. He would have to get Penny to offer Leonard some ice cream off her spoon. Roughly half an hour after that, Leonard would be indisposed, and he would be free to plot contingency plans with Penny.

At last he smiled, and got out of the bath, towelling himself briskly before putting on his pyjamas and robe, and brushing down his hair, reassuring himself that it was the prospect of forcing dairy on Leonard that had put a smile on his face, and not the private planning session with Penny which would occur after.