Paradoxical Sleep
Chapter the Fifth: In Which A Grave Mistake Is Made
Queen Penelope was merciless. Beautiful, yet terrible; her eyes as bright as the break of day, her skin as pure as the clear waters, her lips as red as the blood of her enemies. She was the Lady of Vengeance, the Sword of Conquest, the Rapture of Might.
For once, Penny had not lost herself to the dream. She know who she was, and she gloried in it. In childhood, she'd been a tomboy; in adolescence, she'd turned to uber-femininity. Finally, in a world that was not her own, she found the perfection fusion of the two.
She was still searching for Sheldor. He seemed to have found balance here as well: use of his brilliant mind for spells and his dedication to attain a high level of strength. A fierce Conqueror, as dangerous as a two-headed cheetah. The Caverns of Malice were dark, darker than they had seemed on her computer screen, and she could smell their thick musk.
A noise sounded around her. She spun, claymore at the ready, her breath coming in quick gasps. After a second, Sheldor emerged from the blackness, his rapier dripping with blood. Her face lit up.
"Sheldor!" she greeted, sending him a dazzling smile.
He didn't look up from cleaning his sword. For a second, she thought that he'd lost himself in the dream, that he did not remember her, but then it came, his quiet acknowledgement. "Penny."
"Queen Penelope," she corrected, slashing her sword through the air as if she would decapitate him for his insolence. He barely flinched.
"My apologies, Queen Penelope." Sheldon was giving her a strange look, and after a moment she realized it was an expression of amusement. He was trying to hide his smile.
"What is amusing, conqueror?" she said in her most regal tone. And Leonard thought her acting classes weren't worth the money.
He choked and stood taller. "Pen—my queen...when I first had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, I certainly did not expect that you would become so fond of RPing. I believe it is unusual for a woman of your social rank and beauty."
Penny felt herself flush slightly. She longed a bit for the days when she would have asked Sheldon what RPing was; now, she was the one trying to keep him from being OOC. "I suppose not," she said finally, having nothing else to say. She hoped a bit that he meant the comment about her beauty, and that it wasn't just something he thought Sheldor the Conqueror would say to a queen.
"You are full of surprises," he said, almost under his breath. She wondered who was speaking now: Sheldon or Sheldor, or if it even mattered.
They stood there for a moment. She didn't know if Sheldon sensed the awkward atmosphere (probably not), but it seemed to weigh more on her body than her chain mail did. She finally clapped her gloved hands together. "Well, those bosses aren't going to kill themselves!"
So they slew their way through Khitai. After that, somebody's brain apparently decided to start making up new junk, so that they ended up fighting through some distorted version of that big fort place from Lord of the Rings ("The Hornsburg at Helm's Deep, my queen," Sheldon had said irritably). At one point they were back to back, swords slashing and flashing in some kind of violent symphony. It was pretty great, thought Penny.
Then Fate stepped in. Penny slipped on one of the black stone steps; it turned out that blood and rain tended to make things rather slippery. After the initial fall, she began to roll, and too soon she found herself on the muddy ground. The clanking of armor signaled an enemy approach. She reached for her sword, but her hands grabbed only dirt. It was gone—still at the top of the stairs with Sheldon, most likely.
Another enemy was behind her; she felt his leer on her back. She scrambled into a sitting position, but her chain mail did not allow for enough free movement for her to attempt any sort of weaponless martial arts, if she had even known any.
The first warrior's dark eyes were on her, the rest of his face concealed behind a mask. Slowly, as if the moment was delicious, he held up his blade. Penny swallowed, feeling as if she might throw up then and there. The mighty Queen Penelope, vanquished by a fall. No honor in that death, and oh my God what would happen if she died in the dream? She had read a book once that had said if you died in a dream, you died in real life, and that was why you never would hit the ground in those dreams where you seemed to fall forever. If she died here—
That thought was interrupted by a vocal battle cry from somewhere above her head. She twisted her aching neck and saw a dark shadow descending upon the warriors, in slow motion. She saw the enemy's eyes widen. She saw his blood mix with the dirt and the water. She smiled.
"Sheldor," she said, relishing the name, relishing the instant. He had a look of utter triumph about him; he looked as if he had been made for that scene, and her heart began to pound harder and louder.
He turned, the music swelling as he did so. This dream was becoming increasingly less realistic, but Penny couldn't find it in herself to mind. Her heart was in her ears, her blood was pumping...
If somebody had asked her later why she had kissed him then, she would have said it was the result of all that buildup between them lately. The tension. Maybe that had always been there, she wasn't sure. But with the dancing and the flying, him memorizing her schedule, watching Doctor Who together, him letting her pick the food...it all added up, and the answer to the equation was "kiss the living daylights out of Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper".
However, the real reason was because Penny was impulsive. She acted before she thought; she lived up to her big ol' five reputation. Queen Penelope took what was hers, and that was exactly her attitude toward Sheldon's lips.
For the first couple of Mississippis, he was stock still, as if his entire body was the same consistency of his armor. Then he softened, softened like a stick of butter stuck in the microwave. He was putty in her arms, and her toes began to tingle pleasantly.
And then, and then, and then Penny's brain shut off completely (and she was wholly Penny now, the dream was melting away) because he was kissing her back. Barely, but there it was, the tentative push against her lips, and she wasn't sure, but she thought that maybe they started flying again.
Sheldor the Conqueror had his eyes closed, his lips pressed against those of his lady's in a chaste but passionate kiss. Their arms were wrapped around each other in a tight embrace. Their enemies lay slain at their feet.
Sheldon Cooper, on the other hand, did not kiss women (or actually, people at all), especially not his beautiful neighbor and best friend and dear Lord he was kissing Penny. Suddenly, the physical pleasure of the moment was lost to him, as his brain filled with potential consequences. His entire way of life could be taken from him, she might never speak to him again, Leonard might never speak to him again (although he had no claim on the woman). This was a catastrophic moment, and, oddly enough, Sheldon barely wanted it to end.
What was the proper social protocol for ending a kiss? He searched his extremely large mental catalog. He had never read a scientific paper on the subject, nor viewed a documentary. Perhaps popular culture could aid him—no, nothing came to mind involving that, either.
He was, as the popular term went, "screwed".
Sheldon wriggled awkwardly, but that failed as well; Penny nearly latched on ever more tightly. He was aware of the act he had to perform, but felt somehow hesitant. It was not only the experience of the kiss that held it back, but their potentially altered paradigm. He did recall a great deal of pop culture centered on men or women sending "mixed signals" about whether they desired to mate, and she would probably interpret his reciprocation and then escape as such. This was an absurd hypothesis, however. Obviously, his escape was necessary so as to ensure the continuance of his routine, and the reciprocation...
Scientists could choose to ignore data, on occasion, and this was the perfect occasion for it. His reciprocation of her attentions did not currently matter, what mattered was taking action to end this situation. He reached deep within his mind and woke them up from the dream.
His consciousness was returned safely to his physical body, resting on his bed. For an instant, his still somewhat drowsy mind reminded him to disinfect, as he was dripping blood. A quick glance at his body reassured him that this was, in fact, part of the dream state, and had not affected his physical body. He breathed a brief sigh of relief before turning his thoughts to other matters.
Namely, the osculation between his mouth and Penny's. It had not been unpleasant; in fact, compared to the few other kisses he'd had in his life, it "blew them out of the water". Endorphins had flooded him, and even now he felt their buzz. Best of all, since there was no real physical contact involved, he had absolutely no worries about her "cooties", as she would call them.
He had ended the kiss for purely contractual reasons. Their friendship did not include kissing, and he had been led to believe that if a friendship did, it was generally termed a "friends-with-benefits" situation. These tended to be messy, and ended with at least one of the members sobbing at a bar. Sheldon disliked alcohol and crying, and desired to keep Penny in his life, not to lose her for some transient physical pleasure that would supposedly add to their friendship.
Sheldon heard stomping and the sound of a slamming door. Penny was coming for him. Belatedly, he realized that she might have taken his actions as a rejection. "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned," he said under his breath, eyes widening.
Penny burst through his door, all 57 kilograms of her. "What the hell was that about, Sheldon?" He knew it was fanciful to think that her eyes had turned red, but dear Lord, she certainly looked demonic enough.
"People are not allowed in my bedroom," he reminded her, setting his jaw. If she desired a fight, a fight she would have. He had spent all night slaying warriors twice his size, making even her corn-fed Nebraska strength seem less intimidating.
She nearly spat out her next words, and he realized that he probably would have to disinfect after all. "Is that how the brilliant Sheldon Cooper treats a woman? You kiss her and then disappear?"
Sheldon flushed. "Reciprocating your attentions was a mistake," he said with as much dignity as he could muster.
"Well, you know what, maybe our entire friendship was a mistake," she replied, sounding calmer now. He knew that tone, though. That was her openly antagonistic tone, the voice she used when she was baiting him, when she had passed angry and gone straight to the fury of Hell.
He chose his next words carefully. "Perhaps it was." Agreeing with Penny was generally best when trying to defuse the figurative bomb that was her temper. This, however, seemed to make her even angrier. She whipped herself around, walked resolutely to the door, and slammed it for dramatic effect. He sighed. Perhaps she was more actress than waitress after all.
Fifty-four seconds later, there was a quiet knock on his door. Leonard, obviously. "Was that Penny I heard?" he asked through the door.
"Yes, we are currently having a spat," Sheldon replied as he smoothed his perfectly-made bed.
"You seemed fine last night," his roommate said. "We were all watching Doctor Who and you let her pick the food...I mean, you guys seemed to be getting along great. What happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it," he replied in clipped tones. "Suffice it to say that we had a misunderstanding." He paused, and then added, "A serious misunderstanding."
Sheldon rarely had trouble focusing on his work. Even the day that the Star Trek film reboot had been announced, he had celebrated for approximately seven minutes and then returned to his physics with renewed vigor. This unresolved conflict with Penny, on the other hand, seemed to distract his attention constantly. After a couple of Google searches and a chat session with someone claiming to be a licensed therapist, he determined that the emotion he was experiencing was anxiety. He was anxious because he did not like Penny being angry with him, and he desired to continue their friendship.
That evening, he crossed the hall warily, wondering if the throat-punching rule could have been re-purposed for situations in which she was "madder than a polecat lit on fire". Still, the therapist had explained to him that he had to at least attempt to win back her favor, and while he was skeptical of her credentials, he recognized her superior knowledge involving interpersonal relations.
Knock knock knock. "Penny."
Knock knock knock. "Penny."
Knock knock knock. "Penny."
"I'm not home!"
"Obviously, you are, or who could be—never mind," he said hastily, honestly trying not to anger her further. "I would like to invite you to Chinese and Vintage Video Game Night."
"Will you be there?" she asked.
Sheldon blinked. "Naturally, I—"
"No." Penny said curtly, and had she opened the door in the first place, she certainly would have shut it in his face now. Perhaps she was currently menstruating. That was the only reasonable explanation for her entirely irrational behavior. He returned to the apartment, but was unable to fully enjoy Chinese and Vintage Video Game Night. Every time he ended up on the Game Over screen, he pictured her laughing.
Sheldon dreaded the inevitable hold of sleep, but he knew that his requisite amount of rest would be disturbed, thus ruining his perfectly planned routine, if he attempted to stay awake, so he went to bed at his usual time, nine o'clock. Soon he succumbed to his body's circadian rhythms.
His eyes opened. He was in what appeared to be a boxing ring. He studied his attire: as was typical for boxers, he wore no shirt, and, naturally, boxer shorts. He shivered a bit, unused to such scant clothing. His only comfort was that the boxers were bright blue, which was a color that he happened to favor. The over-sized gloves on his hands were also blue, with fiery black accents.
"Penny?" he called out, somewhat nervously. The ring was poorly lit and appeared to be deserted. He quieted his heartbeat and listened.
"Sheldon."
He spun around. Either she had been standing there all along, or in the dream her footsteps were silent. Penny, too, was clothed as a boxer, although of course as a female she wore a small chest covering (he hesitated to call it a "shirt"—it covered little more than her brassiere would). Her eyes were set in a way that almost made him want to shrink back.
"I suppose we are to fight," he offered after a moment of silence. She was swinging her gloved hands this way and that, testing out their weight. Sheldon began to do the same, for intimidation's sake. His mother had taught him never to hit a girl, and if there was any way he could avoid this fight...
"I'm gonna crush you," she whispered harshly, and he twitched. Perhaps not.
He took a few steps toward her. "Did you know that boxing is also known as the 'sweet science'?"
"Don't care, Sheldon," she said, circling him now.
"Excuse me, but the signal has not yet been given."
A bell rung, and Sheldon cringed. Penny continued to circle him, and he mirrored her movements. She brought herself closer and leveled a punch at his shoulder; he moved quickly out of the way. Her eyes narrowed.
"Penny, I do not see the purpose of this at all. It neither furthers our research nor provides us with a sense of pleasure," he said, hoping that rational reasoning would bring her around. It would certainly be the first time, but Occam's Razor was always to be considered.
Evidently, in this situation, the simplest solution was not the best. "I'm getting a pretty nice sense of pleasure," she snarled, aiming a heavy hit at his hypogastrium. It connected, and had he been in his physical body, he had a feeling that he would have expelled that night's Chinese food. As it was, however, Sheldon doubled over in pain. He heard somebody gasp, and recognized that the voice was more feminine than his own; obviously, it was Penny.
A sudden touch was at his side, and once again, he experienced that endorphin high. If anything, this was even more powerful than when they had kissed, perhaps because he had not expected her skin on his own. His tactile sense felt entirely afire. "Sweetie," she said, in a voice dripping with concern (so much so that he wondered briefly if it was sarcasm). "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
He coughed. "Perhaps the next time that you do not intend to hurt me, you shouldn't punch me in my gut."
"All right, Sergeant Snarky. Maybe the next time that you don't intend to hurt me, you shouldn't kiss me and then leave like that." He was looking at her by then, and something about her expression was spellbinding. He'd never seen that look on her fact before, and hadn't a clue what it meant.
"Why did you kiss me?" Sheldon asked. It had been weighing on his mind all day, and if there was anything he hated, it was unanswered questions.
Penny bit her lip, and suddenly the room felt very warm. "I don't know, it was just the aftermath of the moment. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it."
He wondered if he should accept her apology. Her explanation was absolutely irrational, but what seemed much more important than that was keeping her in her current place in his life. "I do not understand, but I will accept this, if you are no longer angry with me."
Her eyes were filled up with tears, and he was positive that she had to be menstruating, a few days early by his count. Perhaps the excess hormones flooding her system could also justify her inappropriate display of affection. "Oh, sweetie, I'm not mad at you. Hey. Why don't we blow this joint and get some ice cream? My treat."
"Penny, as this is our dream, I seriously doubt that payment will be required," he pointed out helpfully.
"It's the thought that counts!"
Sheldon considered lecturing her on the real meaning and origin of that phrase, but recalled her earlier anger and closed his mouth. "I suppose," he said instead, smiling. Ice cream sounded wonderful.
End Notes: The Battle of Hornsburg is commonly known as the Battle of Helm's Deep, even in the generally faithful Peter Jackson adaptation. The fortress itself is called Hornsburg, not Helm's Deep. I don't doubt that Sheldon would find this important (heck, even I find this important). I have never played Age of Conan, so thank you everybody at the Age of Conan wiki for posting so much helpful information! I don't think that it was ever mentioned what class Penny is...I tried to make it vague, but the fact that she can wield a claymore narrows it down quite a bit.
Also, I split another chapter, so this will be eight at least. I'm considering an epilogue...if you have thoughts regarding that, please leave them in the review section. Congratulations, Anon13, for being the first one to point out Sheldon's short-out in chapter three. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!