WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN: A REBOOT HOMAGE

Disclaimer: The author does not own THE BIG BANG THEORY or any of the characters. Much of the dialogue in this story is adapted directly from the 2007 pilot episode script by Chuck Lorre and Bill Prady. The characters of Frank and Harry are owned by son-goku5.

- 2 -

They mauled each other for a minute or so beside the bed before Penny lost her patience; she kicked off her sandals, then slid her left arm up to grab the back of Leonard's hoodie and pulled it violently off his shoulders, while her other hand darted in between them, popped the button on his trousers and yanked them open by sheer force. Leonard gave a muffled grunt of surprise, but cooperated as best he could, wriggling out of the hoodie as she shoved both pants and underwear downward to puddle around his ankles. She felt his legs flailing against her own as he tried to step out of the garments, but they tangled on his shoes and he lost his balance, falling backwards out of her arms onto the bed with a thump. Penny spared one second for a breathless giggle at the sight, then dropped to her knees, yanked off each of his shoes, grabbed socks and pants-hems in both hands and pulled the whole kit and caboodle away in one movement. "Get your shirt off," she ordered.

"Oh, yes ma'am, absolutely ma'am, right away!" The T-shirt came flying over Penny's head to land somewhere on the far side of the room. Penny skinned off her own shorts and panties in one quick move and jumped up to plant herself on the bed, now clad only in her own T-shirt and bra, straddling his body with hands and feet. She grinned fiercely, crawling slowly up him like a cat, not needing to look as she felt him stiffening under her with each inch she came closer. By the time she was close enough to let herself down atop him and kiss him deeply, she could feel him rock-hard and straining against her belly, the sensation enough to further liquefy her core. He might not be as sizeable or muscular as most of the men she'd known, but there was a wiry strength in there, and a startling heat coming off him, as if a blast furnace had fired up inside his body.

"Well, well," she purred between kisses. "You're not below average size everywhere, looks like . . . ."

"You're not below average anything," he panted back. Suddenly he stiffened. "Penny, wait, wait. Um—I just realized, I don't have any, uh . . . ."

"Any what? Oh." Penny nibbled his ear. "So you really don't go out planning to pick up gorgeous women and bring them back to motels, do you? Relax. I'm on the pill."

"Oh thank God." He resumed kissing her, any last hint of nervousness or disbelief dissolving in his sheer hunger for her. Within minutes, Penny was unable to stand feeling any more fabric between them, and sat up atop him to discard her shirt and bra. She smiled at his wide eyes, then reached down to take his hands and slide them up onto her breasts, moaning as he caressed them, gasping when he mustered the courage to rub and tweak her nipples into aching hardness. He sat up and buried his face in her breasts, kissing, suckling and biting each one, circling the areolae with his tongue, driving Penny further and further upwards into a haze of pleasure.

Finally she couldn't take any more. She pushed him back down, lifted herself up, took hold of him to guide him and slid herself down onto him, hissing as his hardness spread her wide and then sank in with agonizing slowness. Inch by inch she took him in until her weight was fully upon him, and she held still, delighting in the newness and the force of it. Leonard had closed his eyes and was mumbling something under his breath; she leant down to listen, and after a moment laughed breathlessly. "Oh my God," she murmured, "that's the chemical elements, aren't they?"

Leonard made a sound that was half-groan, half-laugh. "In alphabetical order from aluminum to zinc, sweetheart," he admitted through clenched teeth. "Otherwise this'll be over a lot sooner than either of us wants it to be."

Not a bad thought. "Should I wait?"

"Just a minute. 'Til I'm past the danger zone . . . ." He breathed slowly and deliberately for a few seconds, though he lost none of his hardness within her, and at last nodded. "Okay. Okay, but start slow. And—bear with me, if I do something wrong. This is . . . really not an area where I have a lot of practice."

Penny smiled down at him tenderly. "It's okay, sweetie. That's one of the best things about sex." She leant down and rubbed her nose against his. "All that happens if you screw up is, you get to try again. Now." Her grin turned feline. "You ready?" At his breathless nod: "Then hold on."

She placed her hands flat on his breastbone and began moving, a slow back and forth rolling of her hips that had her humming in pleasure within seconds. Leonard's eyes had closed, his mouth open, his breathing rasping like a file scraping steel; he brought his hands up to grip hers where they rested on his chest. Tension springs wound steadily tighter inside her belly and her groin. Penny changed gear, picking up speed and throwing in a gyrating, rotating movement, pressing down hard every few turns to drive him even deeper inside her; the third time she did it, he started bucking up to meet her, and they came together at some odd angle that scraped his hardness across that tiny little hypersensitive interior spot she'd so seldom found. The jolt of pleasure was almost electric, shocking a loud "Oh!" out of her and a teeth-clenched groan from Leonard. "Oh, my God," she gasped, wide-eyed, "what was that, do that again!"

"No idea, but I'll try—!" He put his hands on her hips to help control his movements and tried to match his rhythm to hers. They synchronized easily, and before Penny knew it Leonard had managed to find that magical angle again and locked in on it. She found herself yelping in a steadily rising pace of pitch and volume as her insides clenched tighter and tighter; far sooner than she'd expected, her orgasm burst over her in tingling, spasming waves, and she yelled affirmatives to both God and Leonard before collapsing over his chest, gasping for breath. Leonard's arms went around her, his own breathing shallow and fast.

"So—so that was okay, then?" he asked after a second.

Penny sniggered, still too limp for the moment to raise her head, and only nodded atop his chest. "Oh yeah," she panted, "that was okay. That was definitely, totally super A-OK." She shifted a little and realized with a start that he was still hard inside her. "Oh, my, you're still ready to keep going, aren't you?"

Leonard shrugged. "Well, I was trying to find the right angle, and when I did, it was just so . . . so amazing to watch you react that I almost wasn't thinking about that."

"Awww . . . ." Penny smiled tenderly at him again, then donned her evil grin once more. "Well, fair's fair—I think I can give you something to watch that'll help you right along . . . ." She sat up, pulled one leg up high and, without lifting herself off him, turned completely around, a move that in itself pulled another agonized groan out of Leonard's chest. Settling her feet to either side, she braced herself and began to bounce up and down again. At this angle, the friction against her G-spot was even fiercer, and she couldn't keep silent, moaning, gasping and crying out with each stroke.

Without warning Leonard's hands descended on her, one squeezing and massaging her cheeks as they slapped against him, the other reaching up to caress her bouncing breasts, fingers running over her nipples and adding shocks of pleasure there as well. "Oh God, yes," she encouraged him, "keep doing that!" He obeyed without hesitation, his touch growing bolder, squeezing and stroking and sliding all over her, the sheen of sweat that had broken out on her skin making the friction delightfully smooth. Seconds, then minutes, dissolved in pure sensation. She heard his breathing change behind her, speeding up and harshening; his stomach muscles tightened, and she felt him grow even harder inside her. "Oh, god, baby, yes, that's it, that's it, just like—"

She'd been close to climax again, but hadn't worried about trying to finish before he did; she was enjoying the powerful feeling of bringing him over the edge far too much. She hadn't reckoned on him feeling the same way, though. He bucked up behind her and plunged one hand down and around into her center, finding the point of their union and adding a furious yet delicate agitation right upon her nub and folds. Her yell this time was almost a shriek, as much surprise as pleasure, and she grabbed his hand with hers and joined the movement. Within seconds, she'd shattered for the second time, inner muscles spasming and clenching around him. Her cries had barely died away before he stiffened and gave out a guttural groan so deep and wrenching that for a second, she thought he'd hurt himself; then she felt him pulsing and throbbing inside her, and with an exhausted laugh let herself fall backwards, her weight driving them both back to the mattress.

For close to a minute they lay there, entwined, both trembling slightly in the aftershocks, until Penny finally caught her breath. She eased herself off him, the usual twinge of separation feeling even sadder than it normally did, and turned until she could bring her face into contact with his, kissing him deeply. "Oh my God," she murmured, "that was amazing. Thank you."

"You were amazing. Thank you." This close, she could tell he was having no trouble seeing her, even as myopic as his glasses suggested he normally was; his dark eyes were full of wonder, joy, and a kind of adoration she'd never seen before. He wrapped her in his arms and continued kissing her, slow deep soft kisses that for the moment had nothing of lust or heat in them, only gentleness. Penny returned the kisses gladly, astonished at his tenderness. She couldn't remember the last time a guy had just held her like this after the sex—far too often they simply gave a perfunctory snuggle and then fell asleep, or rolled out of bed and started looking for their clothes to go home.

But tenderness or not, he was still a man. As the minutes rolled by the kisses gradually heated up again, becoming more passionate, and Penny felt him stirring back to life against her stomach. He separated to give her a yearning look; she smiled and rolled onto her back, pulling him atop her and opening her legs to wrap them around him. She wasn't ready for the night to end either. Locking her mouth to his, she put her hand on his buttocks to guide him in, drawing in breath through her nose with a gasp as he sank in once more.

Leonard's comparative smallness was a pleasant surprise, in this position; unlike many of the men she'd been to bed with, his weight wasn't enough to leave her feeling half-squashed. And when he began moving, she realized with delight that he had paid attention during their first go-round: his movements were a remarkable analogy to the ones she loved doing herself when she was on top, with the same rolling gyrations that she'd used. He alternated between fast and slow, controlling the friction, ratcheting her tighter and tighter again. But at this angle he didn't seem quite able to find the same spot he'd done before. She felt the frustrated tension in his back, wondered what to do, and then had an idea.

"Leonard," she whispered, "lift my legs up. Put them up on your shoulders."

He stopped. "Are you sure? Won't that be uncomfortable on your neck?"

She grinned and kissed him. "Trust me, baby, I'm flexible. And I really want you to hit that spot again." She spread her legs out wide and then brought them back up, and his last resistance collapsed. He pushed them up to their highest angle, settled himself in again and began thrusting. Within moments he'd found the target once more, and Penny shouted ecstatic encouragement to him as shockwaves of pleasure rolled through her.

She loudly rode out two more climaxes before he went off again, the second powerful enough that she didn't mind at all waiting the last minute or so for him. His cry this time was more a moan of relief than the agonized roar of earlier, but when he collapsed upon her, the sweat on his skin and the total relaxation of his muscles told their own story. She wrapped herself around him, reveling in the heat and dampness of him, the languid triumph of her own ecstasies, the smugness of knowing what she'd done to him and the gentle warmth that was just him. They exchanged soft, fluttering kisses, mouth to mouth, nose, cheek, shoulder, and neck, for what felt like both an amazingly long time and an all-too-short one.

If I died right this second, Leonard thought, I wouldn't count my life wasted. He hadn't, contrary to many people's first impressions of him, been a virgin before this night, but it almost felt as if he had—never in his life had he imagined a partner as passionate as Penny, a lover so completely, unselfconsciously and wholeheartedly into the act, into him, that she'd somehow pulled him straight past every fear and insecurity he'd ever had. For the first time in his life, the worry that he was hurting, offending or disgusting his partner with his body, or his desire, had disappeared utterly. He felt blissfully light and empty, warm and limp, welcomed in every cell by this unbelievable amazing woman whom he hadn't even known three hours ago.

But biology, like time and entropy, marched on with its own demands. Gradually he became aware that he absolutely had to get to the washroom. From Penny's slow, even breathing and utter relaxation, he guessed that she'd fallen asleep, and began to disentangle himself with careful, tentative movements. He hadn't gotten far, however, before she twitched and started, and grabbed for his hand as he tried to sit up.

"Wait, Leonard—where are you going? You're not leaving, are you?"

"No! No, I'm not leaving." It didn't even occur to him to wonder why she sounded so plaintive; the only thing that mattered was to reassure her. "I'm just going to the bathroom."

"Oh." Penny released him, looking a little embarrassed. Then, as he got up—his legs felt astonishingly weak—she suddenly raised a hand. "Um—can you be quick? I kind of need it too." She nodded down at herself, grinning sheepishly. "Downside of no condom—what goes in tends to come out, sooner or later."

He couldn't argue with that. "Well, I was going to take a shower, actually, and head off my hangover, so no reason you couldn't, um, take care of your business at the same time . . . ." Then a thought occurred to him. Two hours ago he would never have dared voice it, but now—hell, why not? He folded his arms, trying to look casual, and suggested, "Or, you know, you could even join me. If you wanted. Saves a lot of time that way."

Penny tilted her head and gave him a wry look. "Really? That's the line you're going with, 'It saves a lot of time'? You could have just said, hey, babe, feel like some shower sex for round three?"

Leonard felt his face heat, but he laughed. "Cut me some slack, I'm still getting the hang of this. As it happens, no, I was not planning to go for full-on shower sex—"

"Well, why the hell not?" Penny grinned at him.

"Oh." Wow; this woman really wasn't phased by anything. "Um, well, to be honest, first because I didn't know if you'd, you know, be into that—it isn't always safe, or sanitary—and second . . ." He cleared his throat, sure that his face must be red enough now to see even in the room's dim light. "I, uh . . . I'm pretty sure the musket rifle hasn't reloaded yet. If you get what I mean."

Penny laughed, shaking her head. "Okay, you just officially used the nerdiest image for that I've ever heard. But yeah, I could stand to get clean." She held out her hand, and let him pull her to her feet. "Lead on, sweetie. Oh, let me get my bag first, though—I'd rather use my own shampoo. Motel stuff's crap."

Penny waited until they'd had a good few minutes of relaxation under the hot water, and soaped themselves and each other down thoroughly—making sure to clean herself out discreetly with a washcloth while Leonard was rinsing shampoo from his hair—before she pointed out to Leonard that even if he wasn't ready to perform again, she was more than open to certain other actions. Fifteen minutes later, the hot water finally ran out just as she was wailing out the fourth orgasm he'd given her in those fifteen minutes—this one with his fingertips dancing in her core, while she hung off him with her left arm around his neck and his chest pressed into her back. The other three had come under the ministrations of his tongue and lips, as he gladly dropped to his knees and proved that a genius IQ wasn't good just for memorizing long lists of facts but also for figuring out very quickly, and remembering flawlessly, exactly what locations, intensity of pressure and speed of stimulation worked for maximum effect.

They had to scramble out of the stall as the water temperature plunged, and Penny's legs almost collapsed under her as she did. Only Leonard's quick reaction caught her. "You okay?"

"Oh, honey, I am so okay they're gonna put a picture of me in the dictionary next to the word. Just let me rest for a second." She plopped onto the toilet—the seat of which, fortunately, was down—and watched in dreamy appreciation as Leonard shut off the water, then toweled himself dry. He caught her watching and blushed. Penny felt like she might melt right there seeing it: how could someone so amazing at this be so self-conscious?

Taking pity on him, she bent down, grabbed a towel and started drying herself off. Her eyebrows lifted as she watched him fill a large glass of water, drain it quickly, then repeat the action. When he filled the glass a third time, she whistled. "Wow, you're that thirsty? Guess I must have worn you out pretty good too."

"Well, yeah, you did—but this is actually to stop a hangover. You know what causes hangovers, right?"

"Uh, yeah; booze. Big duh."

Leonard smiled. "Yes, true, but the interesting thing is how. See, alcohol is actually a diuretic—it encourages you to expel moisture, but the alcohol itself stays inside your liver, where your body has to burn minerals and nutrients to break it down. It's the loss of minerals, vitamins and fluids that causes the headaches. So if you rehydrate—" he suited action to words, by draining the third glass "—it helps prevent the hangover." He lifted the glass. "Want some?"

Penny assessed herself. "You know, I actually feel pretty sober, all things considered." She grinned flirtatiously at him. "I think we must have sweated all the booze out."

"Wouldn't surprise me." Leonard's return grin was a marvelously endearing mix of embarrassment and smugness; it made her want to jump him all over again right there. For half a second she seriously considered doing just that. Then a massive yawn caught her by surprise, and she blinked as a wave of exhaustion swept over her. Leonard took her arm gently and pulled her to her feet. "I think maybe we'd better try to get some sleep," he suggested.

"Yes, yes. Sleep is good. Let me brush my teeth first, though."

She dug her toothbrush out of her night bag, then pulled out the new one she'd gotten from her last dentist's visit and gave it to Leonard. They brushed their teeth together, both completely and unselfconsciously nude, sharing the mirror. Penny wondered why it felt so strange, and then it struck her: it didn't feel strange at all—it felt perfectly comfortable, almost domestic, like they'd known each other for years instead of for less than four hours. She hadn't felt this relaxed sharing a bathroom with Kurt until months after she'd moved in with him.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. What the hell did all this mean? She'd just gotten out of a relationship; did she really want to jump headlong into another one right away with a man she still didn't really know, no matter how great the sex?

"Penny?" Leonard stroked her shoulder.

She realized she'd been standing motionless, toothbrush halfway to her lips. She shook her head and gave him a reassuring smile, then finished brushing, spit out the toothpaste and rinsed her mouth. Deciding to err on the side of caution, she drank two glasses of water herself. In the bedroom, she grabbed Leonard's hand and pulled him into the bed with her without bothering to ask or giving him a chance to get his clothes. Whatever her qualms about a relationship, she didn't want him leaving before he absolutely had to.

She pulled the coverlet over them both and wrapped herself around him again, snuggling into his warmth. His arms went around her, and the last thing she did was to lift her hand and interlock her fingers with his before dropping almost instantly into a satisfied sleep.

Somewhere around five her bladder woke her up. Penny stumbled to the bathroom, had a startlingly long pee break, then nestled back in beside Leonard and was on the verge of drifting off again when she suddenly realized he had gotten hard, his erection prodding her in the buttocks. The sensation brought her wide awake. "Leonard?" she whispered, grinning. "Ready for round three, are y—" She broke off when she revolved in his arms and saw that his eyes were still closed, his breathing slow and deep. Huh. Just normal morning wood, then.

Easing herself closer to enjoy the friction against her stomach, she considered waking him, but decided with some regret that they really did need sleep. She tried to settle back down. Unfortunately he chose that moment to shift in his sleep himself, and wound up pressing his hardness right against the one spot that made it impossible to ignore. Penny did her best to disregard things nonetheless, only for her own body to betray her when her hips involuntarily shifted to improve contact and friction, rubbing him over her folds. Oh, God, she was getting wet again! She half-heartedly cursed her own horniness—hadn't she gotten enough already tonight?

Apparently not; and neither, apparently, had Leonard. Even in his sleep she heard his breathing quicken, and his body reacted to her half-reflexive ministrations by pushing forwards, in turn increasing the erotic friction and pressure and ramping her own arousal further up. Penny was already too far gone to think clearly; there had been a reason she'd wanted just to go back to sleep, hadn't there? Or not wake him? Then he glided up her folds and stroked her center with the soft, smooth skin of his erection's underside, and she couldn't restrain a moan of delight, though she kept it deep in her throat.

Luckily the whole question was moot a moment later. Without warning—ooh, that bastard, he'd evidently decided he liked surprising her too—Leonard's arms came up around her waist and, without opening his eyes, he brought his mouth to the pulse point he'd discovered earlier on her neck, under her ear. Penny's yelp dissolved into a delighted, throaty laugh as his mouth worked against her throat. "Oh, God, you jerk! How long were you awake there?"

"Couple of minutes," Leonard admitted, speaking into her skin. "You'd already gotten things started, so I figured, what the hey . . . ."

"Well, you startled me, so you owe me something. My choice for position, this time."

"Your wish is my command, lady." He tipped his forehead against hers, smiling. "Want to be on top again?"

"No. No, I want something where you do the work." Grinning evilly, she kicked the coverlet off the bed, then rolled onto her stomach, lay her head down and parted her legs. "Fuck me, Leonard," she whispered. "Ride me hard."

"Oh, God," he breathed, and said nothing more as he scrambled into place. She reached back to help guide him to her opening, moaning loudly as his head skittered over her folds before he found the right angle and pushed in. She was so wet that it was effortless, but she let out a loud cry nonetheless at the penetration, pushing back against him as he settled his weight onto her back. Then he began the steady, rhythmic movement, finding her special spot—again! How did he do that?!—and not letting up, and Penny's eyes glazed out as the world went white.

Leonard had set his daily alarm on his phone, and it woke him at six-thirty as it always did. He hastened to shut it off, hoping to let Penny sleep, but the unavoidable noise of his movement as he collected his clothes seemed to nudge her out of her dreams. "Leonard?" she said muzzily.

"Hey, beautiful." Leonard knelt down beside the bed, putting his phone in his pocket. Sunlight was spilling in past the blinds, and it made her hair glow gold in the light. He was unable to keep a smile off his face. Sleepily, she returned his smile, reaching up with one hand to stroke the scratches and bite marks she'd left on his chest and shoulders—he hadn't had a chance to put his shirt on yet. He shuddered. "Oh, man. Please, Penny, don't make this harder than it is."

"But I like making things hard," she murmured seductively, and snickered when his flush deepened. She let out a sigh. "This time you really are leaving, aren't you."

"I have to," he said apologetically. "I have to pick up Sheldon and drive us to work. Believe me, you have no idea how much I want to stay here, I just—I really, really can't."

"I know." She sighed again. "But before you go—come here." She held up her arms. He bent down, planning to bestow a single gentle kiss on her lips, but she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a deep, open-mouthed, ongoing embrace. Only his need to breathe finally drove him to break away, and even then, she kept her arms around his neck.

"Thank you. For the most amazing night I've had in a long, long time," she murmured, and kissed him once more.

"Thank you," he whispered back, stroking her forehead. She smiled and closed her eyes, the delicate caress lulling her back to sleep. Leonard finished dressing and checked his phone. Still a few minutes to spare. He looked at Penny's blissfully slumbering form and smiled. If the corner coffee shop was open, there might be time enough to put together one last thank-you gift . . . and, as it turned out, the shop was. He made some preparations for Penny, scribbled a quick note and, with a wrench in his chest he'd never dreamed he'd ever feel, left the room and let the door close quietly behind him. He hadn't quite been able to muster the nerve to ask So can I see you again? during that final exchange, but at least his note would tell her how to reach him.

Of all the days to have booked a half-day off in the afternoon, rather than the morning, he thought morosely as he walked down the street, turned left and headed for home, most of his mind still back there in that motel room. Still, the class he had to teach didn't allow for short-notice rescheduling, so he and Sheldon hadn't had much choice—

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and hit his forehead. Oh, God, and today was the day they were supposed to visit the high-IQ sperm bank and try to make a sale; that was why they'd booked the afternoon off in the first place. Parts of Leonard's anatomy contracted in a dry, painful wince. So much for that T1 line installation.

But really, in the end, he couldn't regret that.

Penny woke slowly, smiling, wrapped in a dreamy fog of warmth and satiety. It took a moment for the unfamiliarity of the bed to sink in, but when it did, she sat up, a little freaked out—where was she? Then the previous night came back to her. Her smile returned and blossomed into a grin, which widened even further when she realized she didn't even have a hangover. Leonard's remedy had worked after all.

Leonard. Oh my God, Leonard. Who would have thought one drunken impulse hookup, one shy little geeky guy in a bar, would have made for such an awesome night? She shook her head, replaying every moment since they'd entered this room. She hadn't felt this happy, this satisfied, in . . . over a year, she realized.

Her smile faded. Had she really just not known how bad with things Kurt had gotten, even before she caught him that unforgiveable last time? How long they'd been that bad? She didn't want to think she'd been that blind . . . but if even a one-night stand with Leonard could show up Kurt so badly—heck, if it could show up pretty much every other one-night stand she'd ever had . . .

. . . then maybe it could be more, she thought slowly. Maybe it deserved to be more. The most wonderful moment of the night came back to her: not any of the climaxes, but that look in Leonard's eyes after their first round, that tender, passionate, devoted adoration that was completely and solely hers. That look of . . . .

The only word she could think of left her poleaxed: Love.

Oh my God, she mouthed. Was this what love was supposed to be? Despite the example of her parents, a thoroughly active sex life in her adolescence and her years with Kurt, she'd never really quite made sense of the idea that some single other person was somehow supposed to become utterly vital to who you were. Dreamy crushes, aching horniness, cuddling, affection, fun, loyalty and even the pain of betrayal, she knew and understood all that. But this sudden feeling that part of her had left with Leonard, that something vital and profound was just gone if he wasn't here, like a physical hollowness inside her—she'd never felt anything like that, ever: not with Kurt, not with anyone, and if someone had described such a feeling to her she would have said, "That doesn't sound healthy. Get help." God, she felt that way now and it still frightened her.

"I have to talk to him," she said aloud. She rolled over and grabbed for her phone on the nightstand, and only then did it hit her like an express train in the face: they hadn't swapped phone numbers. Oh, God, she didn't even know his full name! Penny wracked her brain, trying to remember; hadn't his big friend Frank called him Doctor Something, at least once, last night? He had, she was sure he had . . . but she'd been drunk, and it was hours ago, and Leonard had told him to stop right away and he hadn't done it again. The name would not come to mind. Bonhoffer? Houseman? Crap, crap, crap. She remembered he'd said he worked at CalTech, he was . . . some kind of scientist—but beyond that her mind was blank. She groaned and slapped her forehead. God, she was such an idiot.

Wait a minute, she suddenly thought. Had he avoided leaving his number deliberately? It was hard to believe that of him, as sweet and unassuming and kind as he'd been . . . but then again, maybe that was exactly why he'd done it. He'd known she'd just gotten out of a bad relationship, after all. Maybe he hadn't wanted to put her in a situation where she felt obliged to consider herself in a new one right away, and with a total stranger at that.

Especially, pointed out the bleak ruthless part of her that she'd never liked much, a stranger so totally different from your normal tastes—heck, call a spade a spade, Penny; he's pretty much a complete geek. Maybe he thought you wouldn't have given him the time of day, if you'd just met in a Starbucks somewhere. Maybe he thought that once you had a chance to wake up and think things over, you'd only want to move on, and he just didn't want to see you look awkward and uncomfortable when he asked if you could see each other again . . . .

Penny put her hand to her open mouth, feeling horrified and ashamed. He couldn't really have thought she would treat him so badly, could he? After what they'd shared? Sure, he'd admitted to having next to no self-confidence in his normal life, and maybe—she forced herself to be honest—maybe in her normal life, she wouldn't have taken a second look at him . . . but that was all before. Their lovemaking—yes, lovemaking—had to have changed that.

Then maybe it's even worse, rejoined that bleak inner voice. Maybe . . . it's not your embarrassment he was worried about. Maybe it was his. Maybe the Genius IQ Doctor just isn't into hanging out with somebody who never even finished community college, or watched Star Trek, or whose favourite TV show is Sex and the City. Maybe—and here the bleak voice turned to a sneer she could almost hear—maybe your problem, Penny, is that out of bed you're just another perky shallow Midwest cornhusker. Maybe your problem is that you're just . . . plain . . . boring.

At the thought, she stopped. Then shook her head. "No," she said aloud. "I'm not boring. I'm delightful. I'm adorable." She grinned, suddenly feeling better. She was doing exactly what Leonard had complained last night he always did: she was overthinking things. They'd both been tired, in an unfamiliar place with unusual routines, and neither of them had remembered that one critical thing. That was all it was. It was aggravating and disappointing as all hell, but that was all it was.

She swung her legs out of the bed, grabbed up her clothes, and headed for the bathroom, then paused as her eyes fell on the table. A thermos-style travel mug bearing the logo of a local coffee joint sat there, next to a small container of milk and some packets of sugar, a paper bag with a couple of pastries sticking out of it, a folded-open newspaper, and a scribbled note with her name prominent at the top. Heart hammering, Penny grabbed the note.

Good morning, gorgeous. The room service here is pretty much crap, so I got you something myself—I don't know how you take your coffee so you'll have to do that part, sorry. The newspaper's been opened to the rent ads; I've circled some that look like they should be in your price range.

Her heart melted, even as her lips curved up. God, he even used semicolons in his handwriting. She had never met anybody who did that. But then, she'd never met anybody who went to all this effort for her either. Her eyes blurred at the next line in the note.

Last night was, bar none, the best night of my entire life.

"The" had been underlined four times.

I hope it was at least half as good for you as it was for me. If you ever feel like doing it again—

Penny held her breath. Please tell me you put your number in my phone. Please tell me you put your number in my phone. Please tell me—

-you know my name, and you can find me in the CalTech directory. xoxo :) Leonard

She stared at the note, unable to decide if she wanted to scream or to weep. Because, of course, as far as he knew, she did know his name. He knew she'd heard it, after all. And what kind of idiot would forget somebody's name after they'd spent an entire night screwing each other's brains out?

Seriously. What kind of idiot did that?

Wholly involuntarily, her fist clenched on the note, crumpling it between her fingers.

At last, mostly for lack of anything else to do, she showered, dressed, had her breakfast, and glumly began reading over the rent ads.

In the end, Penny got another paper and found an ad herself for something she could afford. The thought of having to owe even her new home to Leonard's help, after everything he'd already done, when she couldn't even remember his name or how to find him, just made her feel like a crawling insect. 2311 North Los Robles Avenue was nearby, looked decent enough in its photographs, and was well across town from Kurt's place; she wasn't happy when the landlord told her over the phone that the elevator was broken, but in her current mood that just felt fitting. People who forgot people who'd helped them deserved to have to walk up a few flights of stairs.

She lucked into one last break: when she caught the bus back to Kurt's place (and already, she'd started thinking of it as Kurt's place rather than their place—that said it all, didn't it?) to get her car and her stuff, Kurt was still gone. Evidently nobody had bailed him out of the drunk tank yet. She grabbed as much as she could, leaving what she couldn't carry; she'd have to get her TV back later, somehow. After that it was a long afternoon of carting boxes and bags upstairs to 4B. The day was hot, so she left the door and windows open to get a cross-breeze going and to help cool off the sweat she'd built up—the landlord had promised her that her shower would be fixed by tomorrow, but that was tomorrow.

She was standing in the living room reviewing her unit handbook and rental agreement when she heard male voices coming up the stairs. Her neighbors, probably; the landlord had told her two guys shared the other unit on this floor. Maybe she'd be able to talk them into letting her use their shower. Of course, they might be gay, but even gay guys tended to like her. She was, after all, adorable. She smiled faintly, and turned slightly away so as to show herself off while still appearing engrossed in her manual.

Then the last thing in the world she'd expected happened. She recognized one of the voices.

"New neighbour?—Gllgk!"

Something hit the floor with a metallic rattle. Penny's smile fell into a gape of shock as her head snapped up, then around. Standing in the hallway over the ring of keys he'd clearly just dropped, looking just as poleaxed as she felt, with a bag of takeout in one hand and a tall, lanky guy standing next to him, was Leonard.

Holy crap on a cracker.