Chapter 5
Sheldon paced his room as Penny lay unconscious on his bed. Under his covers. Her skin cells sloughing onto his sheets. Oh what fresh hell is this! He shook his head quickly. That mindset was merely habit; in no way were such thoughts helpful. She had been shivering uncontrollably after she lost consciousness so, against his better judgment, Sheldon had levitated her to his room rather than manhandling her there. If this was what he thought it to be (not that he had the slightest experience in the matter), the whole process was proceeding differently from normal. Not surprising as this was an Earth human. There was no telling if the transference would even be successful. Obviously, they he saw her as suitable mate or his endocrine system would never have initiated the sequence. Human neural physiology was so different, however, that there was no guarantee of success.
Sheldon had stopped pacing, staring slack-jawed at the wall. From a scientific standpoint, this was simply fascinating. He heard a soft sigh and pulled himself out of his stupor. He stared at the woman who had somehow become his closest friend (though he was contractually obligated to leave the title "best friend" to Leonard. This was Penny. Penny was not an experiment. Penny was the only being he'd ever allowed himself to love. Not that he'd allowed it in the slightest. As soon as he had realized what was going on, he had panicked and withdrawn from her company entirely. It had taken all of an hour for Penny to realize something was wrong. He'd hated hurting her, but it was unavoidable. Just a single touch could possibly initiate a genetic transference. Normally his sub-species required both partners to desire the other as a mate before the process could begin. He'd had no illusions at the time that Penny could ever love him (Penny loves me?), but he wasn't sure how the differences between the subspecies would factor into the equation. Perhaps the usual limitations would not apply in this situation. The last thing he'd wanted to do was force any sort of change on her. He couldn't risk it. To his dismay, all his attempts to avoid this exact circumstance had failed.
He sat down gently next to Penny and tentatively reached out to brush the golden strands from her face. He had lived with his mysophobic cover story for so long that he felt a vague sense of panic at the action. After the first couple of years here, he had experienced enough unintentional contact with Earth humans to be sure he couldn't initiate a transference without at least him experiencing an emotional connection, but had maintained his cover story for his own ease within human society. Since (at least one-sided) bonding desire was still required with this subspecies, the likelihood of any issues arising was extremely low, but he had always felt safer with a certain distance between himself and others. He had been chosen for this position partly due to his failure to ever forge any sort of close bond. It made him uniquely qualified to aid in the exchange of information between the subspecies with little chance for… difficulties. He recalled the problems ambassadors had created on another planet when it turned out that no sort of connection was required to begin the transference process. A simple touch was all it took. What a mess that had been.
Sheldon felt relief as Penny stirred on the bed. He'd been so concerned for her, debating taking her to a doctor. Who knew if that would do her more harm than good now. He lightly grasped her hand in his, his thumb rubbing circles on her skin. If their subspecies were compatible, it was too late to change the outcome of what had happened. If the transference proved ineffective, there was no reason to avoid her touch. Either way, Sheldon felt freed by the knowledge that the course was hopelessly set.
Penny loves me.