fic amnesty! fic amnesty! fic amnesty!
Today is National Fic Amnesty Day because I say it is, that's why! I have a few lingering BBT fics that I know I'm never, ever going to complete, so. (All of these are at least a year and a half old, since I"m 99% sure I wrote them before I moved.) Here they are!
bbt crack fairytale au, wherein penny wakes up one morning and she's a princess! (s/p, pg-13, 1600 words)
----
As soon as she wakes up, she knows that something is wrong. She hasn’t even opened her eyes yet and something is off, not quite right, and starting to seriously freak her out. She can hear birds chirping and singing sweetly instead of horns blaring and people thudding down the stairs and the blast of the drill from the construction crew outside who are making her life a living hell. It should sound like Pasadena, not some woodland fairy forest.
Well, fuck.
Penny doesn’t even open her eyes, she just pulls the covers over her head and goes back to sleep.
--
When she finally wakes up enough to take a walk around the room, throw open the blinds and look outside, she comes to a set of startling conclusions.
1 // She’s sure as hell not in Pasadena anymore. At least judging by the looks of the snow-capped mountains on the horizon, and the moat and drawbridge just outside.
2 // Because yeah, apparently she’s in a castle. Or a prison with really well manicured lawns.
3 // She’s not entirely sure, but-judging by the calls of the people currently banging on the locked door of her now seriously blinged-out bedroom-she’s pretty sure she’s a princess.
No, seriously.
--
Penny’s huddled in the corner, chin on her knees, when a majorly curvy woman with frizzy red hair comes flying through the door, followed closely by what Penny has to guess are-no, really-a dozen ladies in waiting. Or handmaidens. Or some other old term she doesn’t remember from that time the guys broke her down and dragged her to a Ren Faire.
The redhead stops, arms spread wide, and surveys Penny with a warm but critical eyes before opening her mouth and yelling, “Out!”
Penny winces so hard her teeth chatter, but the woman keeps yelling, “Out!” She pushes the ladies in waiting (probably) back out into the hallway before shutting the door and firmly locking it from the heavy key ring clutched in her hand. When the room is empty and shut up tight, she turns back to Penny and says, “Honey, what in Holy Florence’s name is wrong with you?”
Penny doesn’t say anything, just looks the woman up and down from her position on the floor. She’s got her wild red hair braided all around her head and curled into a bun at the nape of her neck. She’s busty-oh my god, she’s so busty-with a long brown skirt that she clutches tightly in her hands as she leans down and meets Penny’s eyes. “Princess?”
At the mere mention of the word, Penny jumps up, pushing herself off the wall and leveling Red with a glare that’s part shock, part “what is this fuckery?”, and entirely confused. She finds her voice and says (yelps), “What the hell is going on?!”
Red just cocks her head and narrows her eyes, and Penny continues, “Firstly, I’m not a princess. Secondly, how did I get here? Thirdly, where IS here? And fourthly, I’m not a princess!”
She’s met with a blank stare until the other woman grins widely and laughingly says, “Princess Penelope, we don’t have time for all of that today.” She starts toward Penny, arms outstretched, but Penny backs away right into the edge of the bed. “Princess, why are you-?”
“If you call me Princess one more time, I’ll scream!” Penny yells. “Where the hell am I and what the fuck is going on?”
Red gets another look on her face, a tolerant, patient look that Penny well remembers from her childhood. The other woman puts her hands on her hips and says in a slow and measured voice, “Well dear, we’re in the Castle Deena, home to King Eliot and Queen Joanna and the King’s daughter, Penelope. That would be you.” She takes a step toward Penny and continues, “This is the Kingdom of the Wild Woods, and I’m your maidservant Maria, who’s no longer in the mood for your foolish games. Now you really need to get dressed because the tournament starts in an hour.”
Penny plops down onto the bed and runs her hands over her knees. She picks at the hem of her nightgown for a minute (it’s satin, and there are feathers) and then looks up and meets Maria’s eyes. “Are you sure this isn’t a bad dream?”
Maria takes a step forward and reaches out, tucking a strand of hair gently behind Penny’s ear. “Even if it is a dream, what in heavens makes you think that it’s a bad one?”
--
Penny decides to ride it out, at least for a little while. Maybe she’s really hungover, or she ate some bad Chinese food. Whatever the cause, hysterics will clearly solve nothing, so she decides to stay calm, play along, and see what happens.
She very nearly changes her mind when her ladies come back in and she sees just how much underwear they want her to put on.
--
Somewhere between the first and fifteenth layer, Maria and the other ladies (who all have names like Demelza, and Gwendolyn, and what sounded like but hopefully wasn’t Rapunzel) fill her in on the details of the tournament.
Which is when things get even weirder.
Maria’s lacing up her back and saying, “It’s a competition, really. The eligible sons from the Kingdom come all the way to the Castle Deena to prove themselves in a series of mental and physical tasks. It’s grueling and arduous and thrilling.”
She pulls the strings too tightly in her excitement and Penny just manages to wheeze out, “But what are they competing for?”
The ladies all start to snicker and giggle, and Demelza says, in a cutesy, cloying voice, “For you, of course.”
(Still, this is not the weird part.)
Everyone fills her in on the different events that will take place over the next two weeks, the Gauntlet of Ghoulish Gusto and the Trial of the Twin Terrors and the Feverish Rite of the Twelve-en Swords. It all sounds medieval and horrifying and kind of awesome.
Maria’s lacing up Penny’s boot when she says, “But the favorites are the Four Sons, of course, though I’d be hard-pressed to pick a favorite from among them.”
There’s something teasing in her tone and Penny latches onto it immediately. “Why? Oh god, what’s wrong with them? Four heads? Three noses? Are they-” she swallows-“human?”
The ladies all laugh and Maria says, “Human enough. They’re nice enough lads, I suppose, just. Different.” She straightens up and sets to fixing Penny’s hair. “They are the Four Sons of the Four Corners of the Kingdom, each tied to a pretty piece of land. Leonard of the North Halverston Hofstadters. Howard of the Wolowitz’s of the Western Woods. Rajesh of the Far Eastern Koothrapali’s. And Sheldon of the South Seaward Coopers. One of whom I’m sure will win your hand.
(That’s the weird part.)
Penny just stares open-mouthed as she tries to process Maria’s words. Leonard, Howard, Raj, and Sheldon, all here and coming to fight for her. She doesn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified, so she doesn’t say anything while Maria braids her hair.
She can hear trumpets outside, and the swell of voices from the lawn. The tournament is starting.
--
“There are, like, a frillion people out here.” Penny shields her eyes against the noon sun (there’s no way she’s going to make it through the day in all these clothes) and scans the crowd, bustling and surging eagerly on the vast south lawn. There are flags of every color flapping in the breeze, and men and women dragging children along behind them. Over their heads she can see the beams of what looks to be the largest arena, flanked of either side by smaller arenas and all decorated with streams of brightly dyed cloth. It’s beautiful and nauseating and really, really loud.
People stop and stare as she walks past, and gape and point and whisper. She’s surrounded on all sides by guards, young men with swords and bows and arrows. It all feels like Age of Conan, except for the 50 pounds of wool she’s wearing, and the overwhelming urge to turn and haul ass as far away as she can.
They make their way to the center arena, Penny, Maria, all the ladies, and all the guards. They pass tents and stands, make-shift shops and food carts. The people around her bow as she passes, and it’s all completely surreal.
When they reach the shadow of the arena and head inside-where there is finally (thank Jesus) some shade-Maria takes her arm and pushes her toward a rickety set of steps leading up into a covered area overlooking the arena, surrounded by unshaded benches already half-full. Maria’s grip is forceful on Penny’s arm, not hard enough to bruise but firm enough to get Penny’s undivided attention. “Now,” Maria says, guiding them both up the steps, “please don’t try this act with the King and Queen. They will surely be less amused by it than I am.”
Penny looks around, her face a mixture of “oh sweet Jesus” and “kill me now,” and scans the crowd for all the splendor and regalia she’d expect to find on royalty. She keeps looking around so curiously she doesn’t even brace herself before she slams into the back of someone sturdy and solid.
“I’m sorry,” she cries, and as the person in front of her turns around, Maria nudges her hard in the ribs. Penny suddenly finds herself staring into the hard, dark eyes of-oh, holy fuck. “Kurt?!” She’s face to face with her ex-boyfriend only-not. It’s almost Kurt, but he looks different, still recognizable but definitely not the same. It’s like she only saw him out of the corner of her eye, or through a glass of water or something. Kind-Of-Kurt gives her a look, smarmy and smooth (and yeah, that’s definitely more like the Kurt she knows), and the flat, frozen expression on his face fades away.
----
&
bbt high school teachers au, wherein the gang are all (you guessed it!) teachers at a local high school! (s/p, pg-13, 7200 words)
----
It starts as a fight over auditorium time. Mr. Cooper wants it for his AP Physics class, something about demonstrating the transfer of velocity and the inadequate spatial dimensions of his classroom that Penny doesn’t really try to understand.
“But that’s the drama club’s time in the auditorium,” she says, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I added that practice specifically to prepare for our competition this weekend.”
Mr. Cooper lets out a derisive snort and she can see him tighten his hands behind his back. “I hardly think someone whose main occupational obligation is making sure this school’s sloppy joes are at an edible consistency-which, I might add, they are not-should be given preference over some of this school’s brightest-though still admittedly mediocre-minds.”
Principal Andrews just rolls her eyes and shakes her head and Penny knows she’s lost this one. She tries one last time anway. “Can’t one of us use the gym instead, and P.E. can go outside just for that class period?” She takes a step forward, closer to the desk and Mr. Cooper, and he looks down his nose at her and draws back his shoulders. Her hands itch to reach up and muss his hair, shove his shoulders and get in his face, but she can’t afford to get fired from another job for insubordination so she keeps her mouth closed and her hands at her sides.
Principal Andrews just tilts her head and smiles sadly, saying, “I’m sorry, Ms. Barnett, but I’m going to give the auditorium to Mr. Cooper’s physics class.” Penny keeps her eyes on the floor for the rest of the explanation, but when she does look up Mr. Cooper’s eyes are light and his expression is smug.
When they’re dismissed, Penny can’t help it if she shoves his shoulder a little on her way past him and out of the office. She makes sure the swing of her ponytail is as angry as she is when she walks away.
--
Raj tries to keep up with her diatribe, but he’s busy rifling through the papers on his desk and only turns one ear toward her rant. “It’s not fair that the academic extracurriculars are always getting the shaft! If I needed the auditorium for the football team, they’d probably make Cooper’s class come and carry our bags for us. The only reason she said yes to him was because he’s such a gigantic pain in the ass.” Raj gives a half-hearted mmhmm as he turns over another stack of file folders. “What are you looking for anyway?”
Raj groans as a pile of papers slides off the desk and onto the floor and lets out a string of curse words under his breath in some foreign language Penny doesn’t understand. “I can’t find the grading key for yesterday’s vocabulary test,” he answers, slumping into his chair. “I swear, if Bobby Newton’s been going through my things again and stealing test materials, I’m getting his ass expelled.”
Penny tilts her head and then reaches forward, lifting a copy of The Merchant of Venice off the corner of the desk and grabbing the paper beneath it. “You mean this grading key?” When Raj reaches forward, eyes wide, she yanks it back just out of reach. “I’ll only give it back if you agree to chaperone the drama competition this weekend.”
“Penny, I can’t-”
“No,” she interrupts, “the only other faculty volunteer I had was Mr. Wolowitz and there is no way you are making me deal with him for a whole day by myself.”
Raj snorts and leans back in his chair. She knows she has him when he narrows his eyes and breathes out slowly, and her smile is wide as he holds his hand out for the key. “Howard is harmless,” he says, “but fine, I’ll go.” Penny comes around the desk to help him pick up the tests still scattered across the floor. “But next time we go for fro-yo, you’re totally buying.”
--
It’s not like she dreamed about being a lunchlady when she was a kid. But then Kurt blew his knee out and they had to move back home and the high school was hiring and she needed the money. It started as just part-time cafeteria work, but then they wanted to hire a full-time substitute and she’d been thinking about going back to school for her teaching certificate anyway. And now here she is, Ms. Barnett of Roosevelt High School, full of ungrateful troublemakers who look down their noses at her. Even the ones who are shorter than she is.
At least they asked her to help out with the drama club. She really likes her kids, and it keeps her out of the house.
And she always did kind of want to be an actress.
--
When she gets home, Kurt’s asleep on the couch. The TV’s got some courtroom show on it, and when she reaches over to turn down the volume, Kurt shakes himself awake and tightens his hand around the remote control. “I’m watching that,” he says automatically, reaching up to rub sleep out of his eyes.
Penny puts her hands on her hips, eyes scanning the room. There are soda cans strewn across the coffee table, and an empty frozen dinner tray on top of her playbooks. “You ate without me?” she asks, poking at a fallen magazine with one toe.
Kurt turns the volume on the TV down and then sits up, shifting to face her. “Just a snack. I thought we’d get pizza from Lello’s for dinner?”
“I really don’t want to order in.” She walks around the table and drops down on the couch beside him. He puts his hand on her back, rubs a wide circle around her shoulder blades, but it’s just habit now and she can see his gaze slide over her shoulder and settle on the TV. She moves into his line of sight and raises her voice. “How about we cook something instead? Save money?”
It’s not that they’re broke. The University covered Kurt’s medical bills and the cost of the rehab, but they also ended his playing contract and suspended his scholarship, and after that the decision to quit school was pretty much made for the both of them. She does alright at the high school, makes half of what’s enough to get by, and Kurt manages the grocery store in town and picks up some mechanic’s work when he can. She pays all the bills on time, even manages to put some money away each month, and there are a few designer labels in her closet, even if they are all knock-offs.
And it’s not that he’s not good to her. They fight more than they used to, and don’t talk quite as much, but his hands are still strong at her waist when he pulls her toward him, and his smile still sets her blood near to boil. When she looks at it just right, she knows she’s happy, and if sometimes Kurt’s not where he says he’ll be, or with who he says he was, well. She doesn’t ask about that.
“I wouldn’t think you’d want to cook tonight,” Kurt says. “Didn’t you cook all day?”
Penny just sighs and runs a hand through her hair, settling a side against the couch. “I thought maybe you could cook this time.”
Kurt pulls his gaze from the screen long enough to give her a look and says, “It’s Wednesday, pizza buffet at Lello’s is only eight bucks anyway.” He snaps off the TV and throws the remote onto the coffee table, and then pulls forward and slides her knees toward him so she’s half lying down on the couch. He runs a hand up her thigh and leans down at her, and smiles that smile that usually is the end to all their arguments. She rests her hands at his elbows and feels heat spread through her chest. Kurt shifts, covers her body with his, and whispers in her ear, “Of course, we don’t have to go just yet.”
--
The drama competition goes well. A few of her kids place and Raj manages to keep himself between her and Howard Wolowitz, so all in all, it could’ve been much worse. She asks Kurt to come and watch some of the kids, but Tom calls for help with a radiator and busted suspension, and Penny does her best to ignore the hint of relief in his voice when he tells her he can’t come.
The bus ride back is quiet, the kids chattering softly in the back. Raj’s eyes have been closed since they pulled out of the parking lot, and Penny fixes her gaze at the horizon and watches the sun go down.
“Excellent showing today, if I do say so myself,” Howard suddenly says from behind her. Penny jumps a little bit and turns to see Mr. Wolowitz leaning over the seat back and toward her, eager eyes darting furtively all over her body. “But with a drama coach like you, I’m not surprised.”
Penny leans away from him and puts on her fakest smile. “You know, as the shop teacher I didn’t think you had any interest in drama. But I do appreciate your coming today. It’s nice to see a teacher so willing to support the kids.” She widens her grin, hoping this will be the end of it, but Howard makes a move to stand and join her in her seat.
“No standing on the bus,” Raj says from across the aisle. He’s got one eye open, his arms tight in front of his chest as he leans against the window. Howard slinks back into his seat. There’s a devilish smile on Raj’s face that Penny knows well, and he asks, closing his eyes again, “Did Howard tell you he teaches home ec, too? His counted cross stitch is the best in the district.”
Penny remembers when she first met Raj, when she was living with Kurt at the University. He worked at a coffee shop, a quiet, vaguely creepy guy who kept mostly to himself, scribbling on an ever-present pad of paper between customers. It took a year of ordering nonfat lattes before he finally had a full conversation with her, and even then he kept his eyes down and mumbled most of the way through it. Back then he was a rhetoric major struggling to make his grades, and painfully timid as well. He’d come to America to pursue his literary dream, and instead all he’d gotten was a part-time job and academic probation.
Mumbled conversations turned to genuine confidences, and it’s still the closest friendship Penny’s ever had. When Kurt got hurt and lost his scholarship, it was Raj who held her hand and told her she’d find her way through it. And it was Penny who turned Raj onto teaching, who helped him rework his class schedule so he’d only graduate a year behind, and helped him get a job at the high school. She smiles to see him so much more open, good-natured and outspoken.
They rib Howard the rest of the way home, ask him for his best snickerdoodle recipes and if he’s ever suffered any knitting needle injuries. He plays along for the most part, and when they pull up to the high school, Penny’s almost sad to see the day end.
--
It’s a regular Tuesday morning staff meeting when Principal Andrews makes the announcement. The school is going to try a new mentoring program, a way for the faculty to work more closely with the students to check progress, keep them in line, make sure individual needs are being met. Of course it’s Mr. Cooper who throws the biggest fit, entertaining them all with a speech on his precious time and its more valuable uses, and listing off a multitude of reasons this program is beneath him.
When she first started at Roosevelt, Penny was amazed Mr. Cooper hadn’t been fired yet. He was condescending to teachers and staff alike, and his social skills were nonexistent. He failed students and angered parents, and was generally impossible to work with. But begrudgingly, she had to admit that he was an exceptional teacher. His AP students hated him, it was true, but they also achieved some of the highest test scores statewide, and he was recognized by the school district for his methods.
That didn’t keep him from being a total ass.
“And lastly, Friday mornings are when I prepare my next week’s lesson plan,” Cooper concludes.
Principal Andrews gives a patient nod and a resilient smile. “You can surely find another time to do that, so that we can better serve our students.”
His smile falters. “But I prepare my lesson plans on Friday.”
Obviously unaccustomed to being overruled, he’s fidgety and sullen while the advisor assignments are given out. Two teachers are paired together with 10 students, to meet once a week and talk about their schoolwork, extracurriculars, or any other problems they are having in school. When Principal Andrews is finished, Penny’s name hasn’t been called. She waits until after the meeting and then approaches the older woman.
“Mrs. Andrews, I wasn’t assigned any advisees.”
“For the last time, Penny, my name is Debra.”
Penny smiles quickly and starts again. “Sorry. Debra. I wasn’t assigned any advisees.”
Debra turns and smiles, clutching a folder to her chest. “I thought it best that we leave you available to fill in for other teachers as needed. That way we know there will always be someone to step in, just in case.” Her smile is strong and brooks no resistance, and Penny nods as she turns away.
It’s always surprising how much she’s hurt by being passed over. She figures she’d be used to it by now.
--
The get a new teacher the next week. He’s coming to fill in for Mrs. Harper, who’s on maternity leave. Penny’s glad she won’t be stuck subbing a chemistry class for an entire semester; she’s better when she sticks to English and history, and she can cover most of the math classes if she gets the materials a day in advance. Chemistry and physics are her two sore spots, so she’s relieved to see a nice-looking-if somewhat short-man walk through the doors of the staffroom.
“If you’re looking for the creamer, it’s in that cabinet,” Penny says. He’s rooting through the fridge, coffee cup gripped precariously in one hand, muttering something about milk. She takes a step forward and extends her hand, her smile wide. “I’m Penny Barnett. Substitute. Drama coach. You must be Mrs. Harper’s replacement?”
He straightens up and smiles and takes her hand, grip just a little too tight. “Yes,” he says. He looks nervous and Penny gives him her warmest smile. “I’m Leonard Hofstadter.”
Penny smiles again and waits a long beat for him to continue, and she laughs a little to herself when he just stares at her. “Okay. Well. Like I said, the creamer is in that cabinet. They buy the non-dairy, which is kind of lame, but it’s cheaper I guess.”
“I’m lactose intolerant, actually, so that’s helpful on my digestive tract. Otherwise, one glass of milk and I am zero fun to be around. Because of the … digestive distress.” His words are a jumble and he winces to himself, and looks away. “That was too much information. Sorry.”
Penny breathes out a laugh and nods her head toward the hallway. She remembers being new, having to prove herself to strangers and she knows the shoes he’s filling are exceptionally large. “You have time for a tour?”
Leonard nods his head while taking a sip of coffee and sloshes some on his hands. He winces again and Penny can’t help but smile, feeling instantly piteous and determined to help. “Come on, teach,” she says, taking his coffee from him and placing it in the sink. “I’ll show you the ropes.”
--
The first half of the semester passes smoothly, and she falls into the routine of things. At the school at 7 to start prepping lunches, waiting for word of teachers calling in sick. Drama club on Tuesdays and Thursdays, an hour and a half after school of helping kids learn lines and project emotion. Some days she fills classes as needed and helps supervise exams or day trips away from campus. Other days she stands over a buffet line and spoons beefaroni onto paper plates. Last year she got the superintendent to green light a districtwide reduction on styrofoam, so. That’s something.
Kurt gets a fifty cent raise at the market, and things at home are going smoothly enough. She catches him leaning over a counter at Zale’s one night at the mall, eyeing rings and other shiny things, but a month later he still hasn’t asked her to marry him. She figures she’ll wait it out until Christmas, and then figure out a way to have The Talk.
She introduces Leonard to Raj and the three of them are fast friends, eating lunch together in the staffroom when they can, bemoaning their sorry lives and lack of funding. Leonard makes moony eyes at her for approximately the first month of their friendship, but she mentions Kurt enough times that he backs off gallantly and it’s quickly forgotten. Things are actually picking up, it seems. Her drama kids take home a few more ribbons. She even finds a great pair of suede boots for half off.
Then it’s October, and things change overnight.
It starts with a fight she overhears between Mr. Cooper, Mr. Wolowitz, and Principal Andrews. She’d stayed behind in the lunchroom kitchen at the end of a particularly bad day when she hears voices from the hallway leading out to the main school corridor.
“It’s unjust that a mind like mine should be saddled with an inferior intellect!” There’s no mistaking the plaintive drawl of Mr. Cooper, and she edges closer to the hallway to try and catch a glimpse of whoever he’s arguing with. She peeks her head around the corner and sees Principal Andrews, mouth pinched tight and hands on her hips; Mr. Wolowitz, arms folded crossly in front of him and mouth opening and closing in disbelief; and Mr. Cooper, hands firmly clenched behind his back and nose pointed primly in the air. “It’s a travesty that I have to participate in this insipid program at all, let alone with someone whose intellectual merit can be outshone by my three-year-old niece.”
“I beg your pardon-” Wolowitz starts, but Principal Andrews-Debra, Penny corrects herself-raises her hands between the two of them and interrupts.
“Mr. Cooper, that’s an inappropriate and unprofessional way to speak about a colleague. Mr. Wolowitz is a perfectly adequate teacher, and by all accounts he’s done a satisfactory job advising the students the two of you were assigned.”
“Oh, that’s resounding praise. ‘Perfectly adequate.’ The toilets in the staff bathroom are doing a perfectly adequate job of removing liquid and solid waste from their bowls, let’s have them advise students too!”
“I’ll have you know,” Howard starts, raising a finger and stepping toward Mr. Cooper, “I was commended by my last school district for exemplary work in my field!”
“A district you were no doubt forced to leave due to your dubious behavior toward your female colleagues,” Cooper fires back, taking his own step forward. Penny bites her cheeks and grimaces. It’s true that Howard’s more than a little forward with the female staff, but he shies away when batted on the nose enough times and Penny’s even found herself enjoying his company in the rare, rare, rare moments he forgets she’s the owner of a vagina and two shiny breasts. It’s unfair of Mr. Cooper to go there, and her hands ball into fists at her side. She was already having a shitty day-there’s juice on the bottom of her shoes, and she smells like grease and fried meat-and her temper’s never very far from the surface these days anyway.
Penny sees Principal Andrews pinch the bridge of her nose, and when she speaks it’s through gritted teeth. “Okay,” she starts. “If the two of you really can’t work together, we’ll reassign Mr. Wolowitz to a different advisor group and pair you with someone you can work with instead. Are there any faculty members you’d be willing to partner with?” Penny can’t actually see inside Debra’s head, but she’s sure the older woman is mentally weighing the value of Mr. Cooper’s test scores against how much she’d like to punch him in the throat.
Mr. Cooper takes a step back and raises his chin. “Mrs. Harper is an acceptably worthy candidate.”
“Mrs. Harper is currently on maternity leave,” Debra counters. “Pick someone else.”
Mr. Cooper’s shoulders drop. “I don’t see why that’s necessary. There are other species of mammal that have recovery times of mere hours after giving birth. Allowing Mrs. Harper five months seems excessive.”
“Mrs. Harper will be back at the beginning of next semester. Until then, pick someone else.”
It’s then that Penny leans too far forward, picking her foot off the ground. The sticky sweet sound of the juice stuck to the bottom of her shoe pulling away from the laminated tile makes the three teachers turn their heads toward the kitchen, and Penny’s forced to make a split second decision and act like she was just rounding the corner, as natural as can be.
“Oh, hey,” she starts. “You guys looking for leftovers from today? Chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes are always a crowd pleaser so I’m afraid we’re all out.” Her smile is too wide, her voice too loud. Maybe there’s a reason she didn’t try to become an actress after all.
Penny’s greeted by three sets of narrowed eyes as she tries to move quickly past, and she gives Howard a sympathetic look as she walks by him. She’s stopped cold by Principal Andrews’ voice from behind her. “Penny, you expressed an interest in the advisor program if I recall correctly?”
She freezes with her back to them and twists her face in exasperation. When she collects herself and turns to face them, Sheldon’s got his hands up in front of his chest, a look of sheer horror on his face.
“Oh, no. No! There’s no possible way I will be paired with the school lunchlady. Even Lascivious Mr. Wolowitz is preferable to that alternative. To put it in language you’ll understand, I believe the colloquialism is: over my dead body.”
“Hey!” Penny squeaks.
“I’m sorry, but do you even have a teaching license? A bachelor’s degree?” He’s leaning down toward her, face full of superiority, and she can’t even muster the attitude to meet his gaze.
“I have an associate’s degree from John Adams College and, and-”
“You also have potato salad in your hair,” he answers.
It’s the last straw on an already bad day, but when the tension snaps, she feels herself pull inward, all her anger and frustration falling down until all she is is sad. She clenches her jaw and her eyes start to fill, and when she speaks her voice is barely louder than a whisper. “You can’t treat people like that.” She looks up to meet his eyes and his expression is oddly blank, his features drawn in, contemplative. “I know you think you’re ten times smarter than everyone else in this school, and maybe you are, but you work here just like we do, and you can’t treat people like they’re not worth your time.” She pulls her arms in front her chest, protective, and digs her nails into her skin. “You don’t care more about these kids than I do, and if you did, you’d quit complaining about having to spend more time with them and try to help them instead.”
They all spend a few tense moments just breathing, and Penny keeps her eyes firmly set on her soiled shoes. It’s finally Principal Andrews who breaks the silence. “Mr. Cooper, I will try to think of someone to partner with you for the advisor program. Until then-”
“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupts. His voice is different, lower, and Penny raises her head to find his eyes locked on hers. “Ms. Barnett, I apologize for my earlier behavior. It was uncalled for and out of line.” He clears his throat and raises his chin and turns to face Principal Andrews. “Pairing me with Ms. Barnett is an acceptable solution. We will meet tomorrow morning to discuss scheduling and any necessary details?”
Debra just nods her head, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. She looks back and forth from Penny to Mr. Cooper, who nods once in Penny’s direction and says, “That is acceptable. Excuse me.” He brushes past the rest of them, and Penny opens and closes her mouth a few times as she watches him walk away. When she turns back, everyone’s eyes are wide and unbelieving.
“Yeah,” Howard finally says, stretching the word out long. “I don’t understand what just happened.”
Penny doesn’t say anything, just swallows hard and looks around, but she feels the same way.
--
She tries to tell Kurt about it, about the way Mr. Cooper tried to talk to her, about how she kind of lost it and almost started to cry. She tries to tell him about the expression on his face, the way his eyes kind of softened and widened at the same time, how he was suddenly apologetic and changed. Different.
She tries to tell Kurt about it, but it’s Monday night and there’s football on and he probably wouldn’t care anyway.
--
Penny realizes that she’s nervous at about the same she realizes that she is wholly unprepared for this meeting. She got to school at 7, like she usually does, but instead of heading for the kitchen she went to the physics classrooms, where she now stands wordlessly, waiting for Mr. Cooper to show up. Her stomach is a knot as she takes a seat at one of the lab tables, fingering the handle of a gas outlet and counting in her head all the reasons this is a bad idea. She’s sure working with him is going to be impossible because he’s still a gigantic pain in the ass, his rare flash of humanity aside, and maybe these new students will hate her and he’s right, she probably isn’t qualified. She’s so focused on all the reasons this is already a disaster that she misses Mr. Cooper’s entrance into the room, and she starts at the sound of him clearing his throat for what is undoubtedly not the first time, if his annoyed expression is any indication.
He turns away from her, and she’s insulted for a moment before she realizes that she is meant to follow him, and when she catches up, she’s missed the first part of his sentence. “-But you were on time at least,” he concludes.
“I always get here at 7,” she replies. “I don’t really have to be here until 7:30, but I don’t want to be late and get behind on lunches. 700 servings of chicken fingers aren’t going to cook themselves.” She’s chattering nervously and she knows it; he doesn’t once look at her while they walk, and she doesn’t stop talking until they reach the door of what must be his office. She waits quietly while he unlocks it and then he motions her inside.
It’s as meticulously clean as she knew it would be, but with more personal touches than she was expecting. There’s a photograph on his desk of dark-haired women, three generations of wide, willing smiles that she cannot imagine seeing stretched across his face. There’s another of what must be his immediate family, two of the women from before and two men, father and brother. He’s posed like the rest of them, dressed just the same, but he still doesn’t quite fit, she notices, as she passes the photos to take a seat in front of his desk.
But even more than the photographs, what surprises her are the books. He’s got three book shelves crammed along the tiny walls of his office, and there’s hardly a free space to be found. She sees encyclopedias, scientific journals, and textbook after textbook on all sorts of subjects: zoology, history, poetry, astronomy. There’s also half a whiteboard sticking out from one of the bookshelves, and she sees part of a complicated formula sketched out in cramped writing.
He clears his throat again, and she turns back to him, embarrassed at being caught staring. He levels her with a barely tolerant look and says, “You know that advisor meetings take place first period Friday mornings, correct?”
She nods her head and then finds her voice. “Yes,” she answers, “I know.”
“We will be supervising a group of ten students, all from the sophomore class.” He hands her a print-out with ten names on it, as well as a list of the classes and extracurriculars of each student. “Any questions so far?”
“No, Mr. Cooper, I think I’ve got it.” He sounds like he’s talking to one of his high schoolers, and she’s remembering very quickly why this is a giant mistake. She’s about to make a pointed remark on his tone when he interrupts her.
“Sheldon.”
She pulls back, surprised. “What?”
“My name is Sheldon. Since we will be working together as colleagues, I believe it is expected we forego formal titles and adopt a more informal greeting, is it not?” He looks at her expectantly and she nods. “Okay then. We’ll begin by-”
“Penny,” she interrupts. He looks at her quietly, eyes cast down a moment as if remembering now that social decorum requires him to ask her name, too. She smiles quickly to herself, not quite as fearful as she’d been just moments before.
“Penny.” He clears his throat and turns back to the paper in his hand. “Noted.”
--
Raj and Leonard are both sympathetic when she tells them about her new partnership at lunch that afternoon. “It’s going to be fine,” she reassures them for the third-or thirtieth-time. “We met this morning and it actually wasn’t that bad.”
Raj gives Leonard a look that says plainly I do not believe this will not end in the death of all involved and then asks her, voice low, “I know you want to prove yourself to Andrews, but aren’t there any other ways?”
“Yeah,” Leonard says, pushing bits of corn around his plate. “Like eating glass, or walking over hot coals?”
“Seriously, you guys,” Penny pleads. “Stop talking about it like it’s the end of the world or you’re going to freak me out about it too.” She knows they have her best interests in mind, but really, she’s a little disappointed in them for not thinking she can handle this. She doesn’t need her doubts reaffirmed at all, let alone by two of her closest friends. She doesn’t say anything, though, just takes a bite of her tuna salad and steals a few of Raj’s chips.
She’s interrupted a moment later by Howard Wolowitz as he seats himself beside her and scoots his chair closer to hers. “Penny, thank you so much for yesterday. You really took a hit for me.” Penny’s smile is tight when she looks at him, at the sawdust clinging to the fabric of his turtleneck and the nervous play of his fingers over the thimble in his hand. “I couldn’t take another meeting with Mr. Annoying Cooper and all his rants! Inappropriate conduct this, incorrect Star Trek canon that, and god, if he didn’t shut up about-”
“Enough!” Penny’s voice is loud enough to turn more than a few heads in the lunchroom, and she gives them all a small smile before looking back to Howard. “No more talking about how terrible Sheldon Cooper is and how much it’s going to suck when I work with him. Now Howard, you may sit, but you may not speak or look directly at me if you’re going to address any part of my body but my face, okay?”
The guys all look properly chastised and sit quietly a moment before Leonard asks, “So, Star Trek, huh? What did you think of the new movie?”
From then on out it’s 100% sci-fi geekdom and she can only be expected to hold her own for so long, but at least they aren’t telling her she’s going to totally regret this anymore, so. That’s something.
--
“Baby, where did I leave my brown jacket? The one with the collar and the buttons?” Penny’s rooting around under the bed for her other brown boot, eyes darting quickly to the clock on the nightstand. They’re going to be late for the movie at this rate, and Penny doesn’t want to hear it if Kurt doesn’t get to watch things explode and hot girls run around beating people up. Not that she doesn’t want to see the movie too. She likes things exploding just fine.
Her hand closes around the heel of her shoe and she calls out, “It’s in the closet, in the back.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve checked the closet.”
“It’s in there, just-hang on, I’ll be right there.” She pulls her boot on and straightens her hair, grabs Kurt’s jacket and they’re out the door.
The movie is slightly less terrible than she was expecting, but it’s by no means a cinematic marvel. Kurt keeps his hand on her knee most of the time, and she spends part of the movie watching him watch the screen, which she knows he hates but she does anyway. He gets a look on his face when he laughs, a crinkle just around the eyes, that he’s had since they were kids, and it hits her square in the chest every time she sees it. She knows he isn’t perfect, that there are things about their relationship that leave a lot to be desired, but she’s known him since the tenth grade and that counts for something too. He knows the way she takes her coffee, and the spot on her neck that’s always tight with frustration, and his fingers are always gentle as they fall against her skin. There is a comfort in knowing so well the man she’s sharing her life with, but-when she lets herself-Penny sometimes wonders if that’s the only thing that’s keeping them together.
There’s another explosion on screen and someone goes flying, and Kurt laughs again. Penny lays her hand over his and they stay like that until the lights come on.
--
“So Jamie told Tommy that I said that Val and Rachel weren’t going to his party, because they were going to Austin’s instead, and then Tommy and Rachel got into this huge fight and broke up, and now Rachel and Val won’t even talk to me. And I didn’t ever say anything to Jamie because I was in Burmington with my dad all weekend and I left my phone at my mom’s!”
Nobody talks for a second, and when Penny looks over at Sheldon, he’s sitting with his hands on his knees and his mouth hanging open just a little. She smiles to herself and then nods at Sarah. “Well, it sounds to me like there’s something going on between you and Jamie. Did anything happen with you guys?”
Sarah dips her head and shrugs her shoulders, saying loudly, “It’s not my fault that Rachel asked me to go to Florida with her family instead of asking Jamie! Even if they had been best friends since fourth grade!”
The rest of the meeting continues in pretty much the same vein. A few of the kids are struggling with classes, and there are friendship problems and girlfriend problems. One boy’s parents are getting divorced, and one girl’s grandmother has cancer, but Penny handles herself well and by the time the kids all leave, no one’s crying or dropped out of school.
It hasn’t escaped her attention that Sheldon has stayed quiet nearly the whole time. When she looks at him as she closes the door behind the last student, he is busy shuffling the papers on his desk, his head dipped and eyes low.
“So,” she says, taking a seat on the desk at the front of the classroom, “is that what your meetings are usually like?”
He clears his throat and pulls out his chair, taking a seat and settling his hands on his desk. “Previous meetings have been markedly less talkative. I will admit I am unaccustomed to dealing with such disparate emotions from the students.” Penny supresses a smile. Of course the students didn’t feel comfortable talking to Cooper and Wolowitz, she thinks to herself, and a sense of pride blooms in her chest knowing that she did some real good this morning. “I believe your presence was … helpful.”
She knows it is the highest praise she’s likely to receive, so she smiles and stands, moving to the door. “Thank you,” she says, turning back to him, one hand on the knob. “I’ll see you next week to prep Friday’s meeting?”
He is already focused on something else, his eyes narrowed at the paper in his hand. “That is acceptable,” he says without looking up. She shakes her head and sighs as she goes.
--
It’s two weeks before Sheldon opens his mouth at all during one of their mentoring meetings, and it’s three before he says anything that’s actually useful.
“I’m going to fail math,” Bobby Newton says.
“You aren’t going to fail math,” Penny assures him. She’s talked to Ms. Walker; Bobby’s grades are low, but adequate, and it’s not for lack of trying. She’d tell him that some people just aren’t good at math, but she knows it’s no help, since the class is required.
She’s surprised to hear Sheldon pipe up from beside her. “What is the subject material that is proving too difficult?”
Bobby looks at Penny, his eyes questioning, but then he swallows hard and turns back to Mr. Cooper. “It’s geometry. The proofs. I don’t understand.”
Sheldon tightens his hands on his knees, narrows his eyes and gives the boy a once-over. He must be satisfied with what he sees, because he nods his head just slightly and says, “Bring your textbook and notes to me after school and I’ll go over them with you.” Off Penny’s pointed look, Sheldon just stares at her and raises his eyebrows, so she adds, “If that time is open in your shedule.”
She’s not there for the after-school meeting that day, but the next week Bobby doesn’t complain about his math grades any more, and Sheldon frowns in confusion a little bit less. Penny stops him to ask about it, but Sheldon just gives her a look and says, “The work of Euclid and Pythagorus is accessable to even the basest of mathematical minds, if presented in the proper way.” She still doesn’t quite understand, but he’s already turned back to his gradebook, so she leaves it at that.
--
“I’m just saying it would be nice if you would visit your brother.” Penny’s hand tightens around the receiver, and her mother’s voice bounces around the room, tinny and far away. “I know he’d like to see you.”
Penny sighs and runs her hand through her hair. She can hear Kurt banging around in the kitchen, and she turns away and lays her head back against the couch cushion. “Mom, I’m busy,” she lies, shutting her eyes and stretching her neck out long. “Maybe next week.”
“We never see you! You live ten miles away and only come over on days when the banks are closed!” her mother says. Penny knows that she doesn’t go home enough, that she doesn’t visit or babysit enough, that she keeps a certain distance between her family and her life that she is loathe to alter. There are too many things at home Penny can do without, so she keeps her distance and puts up with the phone calls instead. It seems like a fair trade-off, but it’s still hardly a win-win.
Her mother keeps going, on and on about her brother and her sisters and her father and the farm, but Penny doesn’t say anything, just swallows hard and keeps listening.
--
It’s a Wednesday the first time it happens. Driver’s Ed starts up and some of the classes shift, and Sheldon walks into the teacher’s loungue just as she’s sitting down to lunch with Howard and Leonard and Raj. She sees Sheldon walk over to the fridge, reaching in to grab a neatly packaged and profusely labeled lunch, and then turn and scan the room for an empty seat. Howard’s halfway through a story about a Maxim model he met at some party last weekend, and she takes a deep breath and interrupts, “Alright, don’t get mad at me for what’s about the happen.”
The three guys all look at her quizically as she stands up and calls out, “Mr. Cooper, there’s a chair over here.” He turns his head and finds her eyes and she makes an effort to smile extra brightly, pulling out the hard plastic chair beside her.
----
Does this count as official fandom retirement? Do I still need to fill out forms or something?
bbt crack fairytale au, wherein penny wakes up one morning and she's a princess! (s/p, pg-13, 1600 words)
----
As soon as she wakes up, she knows that something is wrong. She hasn’t even opened her eyes yet and something is off, not quite right, and starting to seriously freak her out. She can hear birds chirping and singing sweetly instead of horns blaring and people thudding down the stairs and the blast of the drill from the construction crew outside who are making her life a living hell. It should sound like Pasadena, not some woodland fairy forest.
Well, fuck.
Penny doesn’t even open her eyes, she just pulls the covers over her head and goes back to sleep.
--
When she finally wakes up enough to take a walk around the room, throw open the blinds and look outside, she comes to a set of startling conclusions.
1 // She’s sure as hell not in Pasadena anymore. At least judging by the looks of the snow-capped mountains on the horizon, and the moat and drawbridge just outside.
2 // Because yeah, apparently she’s in a castle. Or a prison with really well manicured lawns.
3 // She’s not entirely sure, but-judging by the calls of the people currently banging on the locked door of her now seriously blinged-out bedroom-she’s pretty sure she’s a princess.
No, seriously.
--
Penny’s huddled in the corner, chin on her knees, when a majorly curvy woman with frizzy red hair comes flying through the door, followed closely by what Penny has to guess are-no, really-a dozen ladies in waiting. Or handmaidens. Or some other old term she doesn’t remember from that time the guys broke her down and dragged her to a Ren Faire.
The redhead stops, arms spread wide, and surveys Penny with a warm but critical eyes before opening her mouth and yelling, “Out!”
Penny winces so hard her teeth chatter, but the woman keeps yelling, “Out!” She pushes the ladies in waiting (probably) back out into the hallway before shutting the door and firmly locking it from the heavy key ring clutched in her hand. When the room is empty and shut up tight, she turns back to Penny and says, “Honey, what in Holy Florence’s name is wrong with you?”
Penny doesn’t say anything, just looks the woman up and down from her position on the floor. She’s got her wild red hair braided all around her head and curled into a bun at the nape of her neck. She’s busty-oh my god, she’s so busty-with a long brown skirt that she clutches tightly in her hands as she leans down and meets Penny’s eyes. “Princess?”
At the mere mention of the word, Penny jumps up, pushing herself off the wall and leveling Red with a glare that’s part shock, part “what is this fuckery?”, and entirely confused. She finds her voice and says (yelps), “What the hell is going on?!”
Red just cocks her head and narrows her eyes, and Penny continues, “Firstly, I’m not a princess. Secondly, how did I get here? Thirdly, where IS here? And fourthly, I’m not a princess!”
She’s met with a blank stare until the other woman grins widely and laughingly says, “Princess Penelope, we don’t have time for all of that today.” She starts toward Penny, arms outstretched, but Penny backs away right into the edge of the bed. “Princess, why are you-?”
“If you call me Princess one more time, I’ll scream!” Penny yells. “Where the hell am I and what the fuck is going on?”
Red gets another look on her face, a tolerant, patient look that Penny well remembers from her childhood. The other woman puts her hands on her hips and says in a slow and measured voice, “Well dear, we’re in the Castle Deena, home to King Eliot and Queen Joanna and the King’s daughter, Penelope. That would be you.” She takes a step toward Penny and continues, “This is the Kingdom of the Wild Woods, and I’m your maidservant Maria, who’s no longer in the mood for your foolish games. Now you really need to get dressed because the tournament starts in an hour.”
Penny plops down onto the bed and runs her hands over her knees. She picks at the hem of her nightgown for a minute (it’s satin, and there are feathers) and then looks up and meets Maria’s eyes. “Are you sure this isn’t a bad dream?”
Maria takes a step forward and reaches out, tucking a strand of hair gently behind Penny’s ear. “Even if it is a dream, what in heavens makes you think that it’s a bad one?”
--
Penny decides to ride it out, at least for a little while. Maybe she’s really hungover, or she ate some bad Chinese food. Whatever the cause, hysterics will clearly solve nothing, so she decides to stay calm, play along, and see what happens.
She very nearly changes her mind when her ladies come back in and she sees just how much underwear they want her to put on.
--
Somewhere between the first and fifteenth layer, Maria and the other ladies (who all have names like Demelza, and Gwendolyn, and what sounded like but hopefully wasn’t Rapunzel) fill her in on the details of the tournament.
Which is when things get even weirder.
Maria’s lacing up her back and saying, “It’s a competition, really. The eligible sons from the Kingdom come all the way to the Castle Deena to prove themselves in a series of mental and physical tasks. It’s grueling and arduous and thrilling.”
She pulls the strings too tightly in her excitement and Penny just manages to wheeze out, “But what are they competing for?”
The ladies all start to snicker and giggle, and Demelza says, in a cutesy, cloying voice, “For you, of course.”
(Still, this is not the weird part.)
Everyone fills her in on the different events that will take place over the next two weeks, the Gauntlet of Ghoulish Gusto and the Trial of the Twin Terrors and the Feverish Rite of the Twelve-en Swords. It all sounds medieval and horrifying and kind of awesome.
Maria’s lacing up Penny’s boot when she says, “But the favorites are the Four Sons, of course, though I’d be hard-pressed to pick a favorite from among them.”
There’s something teasing in her tone and Penny latches onto it immediately. “Why? Oh god, what’s wrong with them? Four heads? Three noses? Are they-” she swallows-“human?”
The ladies all laugh and Maria says, “Human enough. They’re nice enough lads, I suppose, just. Different.” She straightens up and sets to fixing Penny’s hair. “They are the Four Sons of the Four Corners of the Kingdom, each tied to a pretty piece of land. Leonard of the North Halverston Hofstadters. Howard of the Wolowitz’s of the Western Woods. Rajesh of the Far Eastern Koothrapali’s. And Sheldon of the South Seaward Coopers. One of whom I’m sure will win your hand.
(That’s the weird part.)
Penny just stares open-mouthed as she tries to process Maria’s words. Leonard, Howard, Raj, and Sheldon, all here and coming to fight for her. She doesn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified, so she doesn’t say anything while Maria braids her hair.
She can hear trumpets outside, and the swell of voices from the lawn. The tournament is starting.
--
“There are, like, a frillion people out here.” Penny shields her eyes against the noon sun (there’s no way she’s going to make it through the day in all these clothes) and scans the crowd, bustling and surging eagerly on the vast south lawn. There are flags of every color flapping in the breeze, and men and women dragging children along behind them. Over their heads she can see the beams of what looks to be the largest arena, flanked of either side by smaller arenas and all decorated with streams of brightly dyed cloth. It’s beautiful and nauseating and really, really loud.
People stop and stare as she walks past, and gape and point and whisper. She’s surrounded on all sides by guards, young men with swords and bows and arrows. It all feels like Age of Conan, except for the 50 pounds of wool she’s wearing, and the overwhelming urge to turn and haul ass as far away as she can.
They make their way to the center arena, Penny, Maria, all the ladies, and all the guards. They pass tents and stands, make-shift shops and food carts. The people around her bow as she passes, and it’s all completely surreal.
When they reach the shadow of the arena and head inside-where there is finally (thank Jesus) some shade-Maria takes her arm and pushes her toward a rickety set of steps leading up into a covered area overlooking the arena, surrounded by unshaded benches already half-full. Maria’s grip is forceful on Penny’s arm, not hard enough to bruise but firm enough to get Penny’s undivided attention. “Now,” Maria says, guiding them both up the steps, “please don’t try this act with the King and Queen. They will surely be less amused by it than I am.”
Penny looks around, her face a mixture of “oh sweet Jesus” and “kill me now,” and scans the crowd for all the splendor and regalia she’d expect to find on royalty. She keeps looking around so curiously she doesn’t even brace herself before she slams into the back of someone sturdy and solid.
“I’m sorry,” she cries, and as the person in front of her turns around, Maria nudges her hard in the ribs. Penny suddenly finds herself staring into the hard, dark eyes of-oh, holy fuck. “Kurt?!” She’s face to face with her ex-boyfriend only-not. It’s almost Kurt, but he looks different, still recognizable but definitely not the same. It’s like she only saw him out of the corner of her eye, or through a glass of water or something. Kind-Of-Kurt gives her a look, smarmy and smooth (and yeah, that’s definitely more like the Kurt she knows), and the flat, frozen expression on his face fades away.
----
&
bbt high school teachers au, wherein the gang are all (you guessed it!) teachers at a local high school! (s/p, pg-13, 7200 words)
----
It starts as a fight over auditorium time. Mr. Cooper wants it for his AP Physics class, something about demonstrating the transfer of velocity and the inadequate spatial dimensions of his classroom that Penny doesn’t really try to understand.
“But that’s the drama club’s time in the auditorium,” she says, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I added that practice specifically to prepare for our competition this weekend.”
Mr. Cooper lets out a derisive snort and she can see him tighten his hands behind his back. “I hardly think someone whose main occupational obligation is making sure this school’s sloppy joes are at an edible consistency-which, I might add, they are not-should be given preference over some of this school’s brightest-though still admittedly mediocre-minds.”
Principal Andrews just rolls her eyes and shakes her head and Penny knows she’s lost this one. She tries one last time anway. “Can’t one of us use the gym instead, and P.E. can go outside just for that class period?” She takes a step forward, closer to the desk and Mr. Cooper, and he looks down his nose at her and draws back his shoulders. Her hands itch to reach up and muss his hair, shove his shoulders and get in his face, but she can’t afford to get fired from another job for insubordination so she keeps her mouth closed and her hands at her sides.
Principal Andrews just tilts her head and smiles sadly, saying, “I’m sorry, Ms. Barnett, but I’m going to give the auditorium to Mr. Cooper’s physics class.” Penny keeps her eyes on the floor for the rest of the explanation, but when she does look up Mr. Cooper’s eyes are light and his expression is smug.
When they’re dismissed, Penny can’t help it if she shoves his shoulder a little on her way past him and out of the office. She makes sure the swing of her ponytail is as angry as she is when she walks away.
--
Raj tries to keep up with her diatribe, but he’s busy rifling through the papers on his desk and only turns one ear toward her rant. “It’s not fair that the academic extracurriculars are always getting the shaft! If I needed the auditorium for the football team, they’d probably make Cooper’s class come and carry our bags for us. The only reason she said yes to him was because he’s such a gigantic pain in the ass.” Raj gives a half-hearted mmhmm as he turns over another stack of file folders. “What are you looking for anyway?”
Raj groans as a pile of papers slides off the desk and onto the floor and lets out a string of curse words under his breath in some foreign language Penny doesn’t understand. “I can’t find the grading key for yesterday’s vocabulary test,” he answers, slumping into his chair. “I swear, if Bobby Newton’s been going through my things again and stealing test materials, I’m getting his ass expelled.”
Penny tilts her head and then reaches forward, lifting a copy of The Merchant of Venice off the corner of the desk and grabbing the paper beneath it. “You mean this grading key?” When Raj reaches forward, eyes wide, she yanks it back just out of reach. “I’ll only give it back if you agree to chaperone the drama competition this weekend.”
“Penny, I can’t-”
“No,” she interrupts, “the only other faculty volunteer I had was Mr. Wolowitz and there is no way you are making me deal with him for a whole day by myself.”
Raj snorts and leans back in his chair. She knows she has him when he narrows his eyes and breathes out slowly, and her smile is wide as he holds his hand out for the key. “Howard is harmless,” he says, “but fine, I’ll go.” Penny comes around the desk to help him pick up the tests still scattered across the floor. “But next time we go for fro-yo, you’re totally buying.”
--
It’s not like she dreamed about being a lunchlady when she was a kid. But then Kurt blew his knee out and they had to move back home and the high school was hiring and she needed the money. It started as just part-time cafeteria work, but then they wanted to hire a full-time substitute and she’d been thinking about going back to school for her teaching certificate anyway. And now here she is, Ms. Barnett of Roosevelt High School, full of ungrateful troublemakers who look down their noses at her. Even the ones who are shorter than she is.
At least they asked her to help out with the drama club. She really likes her kids, and it keeps her out of the house.
And she always did kind of want to be an actress.
--
When she gets home, Kurt’s asleep on the couch. The TV’s got some courtroom show on it, and when she reaches over to turn down the volume, Kurt shakes himself awake and tightens his hand around the remote control. “I’m watching that,” he says automatically, reaching up to rub sleep out of his eyes.
Penny puts her hands on her hips, eyes scanning the room. There are soda cans strewn across the coffee table, and an empty frozen dinner tray on top of her playbooks. “You ate without me?” she asks, poking at a fallen magazine with one toe.
Kurt turns the volume on the TV down and then sits up, shifting to face her. “Just a snack. I thought we’d get pizza from Lello’s for dinner?”
“I really don’t want to order in.” She walks around the table and drops down on the couch beside him. He puts his hand on her back, rubs a wide circle around her shoulder blades, but it’s just habit now and she can see his gaze slide over her shoulder and settle on the TV. She moves into his line of sight and raises her voice. “How about we cook something instead? Save money?”
It’s not that they’re broke. The University covered Kurt’s medical bills and the cost of the rehab, but they also ended his playing contract and suspended his scholarship, and after that the decision to quit school was pretty much made for the both of them. She does alright at the high school, makes half of what’s enough to get by, and Kurt manages the grocery store in town and picks up some mechanic’s work when he can. She pays all the bills on time, even manages to put some money away each month, and there are a few designer labels in her closet, even if they are all knock-offs.
And it’s not that he’s not good to her. They fight more than they used to, and don’t talk quite as much, but his hands are still strong at her waist when he pulls her toward him, and his smile still sets her blood near to boil. When she looks at it just right, she knows she’s happy, and if sometimes Kurt’s not where he says he’ll be, or with who he says he was, well. She doesn’t ask about that.
“I wouldn’t think you’d want to cook tonight,” Kurt says. “Didn’t you cook all day?”
Penny just sighs and runs a hand through her hair, settling a side against the couch. “I thought maybe you could cook this time.”
Kurt pulls his gaze from the screen long enough to give her a look and says, “It’s Wednesday, pizza buffet at Lello’s is only eight bucks anyway.” He snaps off the TV and throws the remote onto the coffee table, and then pulls forward and slides her knees toward him so she’s half lying down on the couch. He runs a hand up her thigh and leans down at her, and smiles that smile that usually is the end to all their arguments. She rests her hands at his elbows and feels heat spread through her chest. Kurt shifts, covers her body with his, and whispers in her ear, “Of course, we don’t have to go just yet.”
--
The drama competition goes well. A few of her kids place and Raj manages to keep himself between her and Howard Wolowitz, so all in all, it could’ve been much worse. She asks Kurt to come and watch some of the kids, but Tom calls for help with a radiator and busted suspension, and Penny does her best to ignore the hint of relief in his voice when he tells her he can’t come.
The bus ride back is quiet, the kids chattering softly in the back. Raj’s eyes have been closed since they pulled out of the parking lot, and Penny fixes her gaze at the horizon and watches the sun go down.
“Excellent showing today, if I do say so myself,” Howard suddenly says from behind her. Penny jumps a little bit and turns to see Mr. Wolowitz leaning over the seat back and toward her, eager eyes darting furtively all over her body. “But with a drama coach like you, I’m not surprised.”
Penny leans away from him and puts on her fakest smile. “You know, as the shop teacher I didn’t think you had any interest in drama. But I do appreciate your coming today. It’s nice to see a teacher so willing to support the kids.” She widens her grin, hoping this will be the end of it, but Howard makes a move to stand and join her in her seat.
“No standing on the bus,” Raj says from across the aisle. He’s got one eye open, his arms tight in front of his chest as he leans against the window. Howard slinks back into his seat. There’s a devilish smile on Raj’s face that Penny knows well, and he asks, closing his eyes again, “Did Howard tell you he teaches home ec, too? His counted cross stitch is the best in the district.”
Penny remembers when she first met Raj, when she was living with Kurt at the University. He worked at a coffee shop, a quiet, vaguely creepy guy who kept mostly to himself, scribbling on an ever-present pad of paper between customers. It took a year of ordering nonfat lattes before he finally had a full conversation with her, and even then he kept his eyes down and mumbled most of the way through it. Back then he was a rhetoric major struggling to make his grades, and painfully timid as well. He’d come to America to pursue his literary dream, and instead all he’d gotten was a part-time job and academic probation.
Mumbled conversations turned to genuine confidences, and it’s still the closest friendship Penny’s ever had. When Kurt got hurt and lost his scholarship, it was Raj who held her hand and told her she’d find her way through it. And it was Penny who turned Raj onto teaching, who helped him rework his class schedule so he’d only graduate a year behind, and helped him get a job at the high school. She smiles to see him so much more open, good-natured and outspoken.
They rib Howard the rest of the way home, ask him for his best snickerdoodle recipes and if he’s ever suffered any knitting needle injuries. He plays along for the most part, and when they pull up to the high school, Penny’s almost sad to see the day end.
--
It’s a regular Tuesday morning staff meeting when Principal Andrews makes the announcement. The school is going to try a new mentoring program, a way for the faculty to work more closely with the students to check progress, keep them in line, make sure individual needs are being met. Of course it’s Mr. Cooper who throws the biggest fit, entertaining them all with a speech on his precious time and its more valuable uses, and listing off a multitude of reasons this program is beneath him.
When she first started at Roosevelt, Penny was amazed Mr. Cooper hadn’t been fired yet. He was condescending to teachers and staff alike, and his social skills were nonexistent. He failed students and angered parents, and was generally impossible to work with. But begrudgingly, she had to admit that he was an exceptional teacher. His AP students hated him, it was true, but they also achieved some of the highest test scores statewide, and he was recognized by the school district for his methods.
That didn’t keep him from being a total ass.
“And lastly, Friday mornings are when I prepare my next week’s lesson plan,” Cooper concludes.
Principal Andrews gives a patient nod and a resilient smile. “You can surely find another time to do that, so that we can better serve our students.”
His smile falters. “But I prepare my lesson plans on Friday.”
Obviously unaccustomed to being overruled, he’s fidgety and sullen while the advisor assignments are given out. Two teachers are paired together with 10 students, to meet once a week and talk about their schoolwork, extracurriculars, or any other problems they are having in school. When Principal Andrews is finished, Penny’s name hasn’t been called. She waits until after the meeting and then approaches the older woman.
“Mrs. Andrews, I wasn’t assigned any advisees.”
“For the last time, Penny, my name is Debra.”
Penny smiles quickly and starts again. “Sorry. Debra. I wasn’t assigned any advisees.”
Debra turns and smiles, clutching a folder to her chest. “I thought it best that we leave you available to fill in for other teachers as needed. That way we know there will always be someone to step in, just in case.” Her smile is strong and brooks no resistance, and Penny nods as she turns away.
It’s always surprising how much she’s hurt by being passed over. She figures she’d be used to it by now.
--
The get a new teacher the next week. He’s coming to fill in for Mrs. Harper, who’s on maternity leave. Penny’s glad she won’t be stuck subbing a chemistry class for an entire semester; she’s better when she sticks to English and history, and she can cover most of the math classes if she gets the materials a day in advance. Chemistry and physics are her two sore spots, so she’s relieved to see a nice-looking-if somewhat short-man walk through the doors of the staffroom.
“If you’re looking for the creamer, it’s in that cabinet,” Penny says. He’s rooting through the fridge, coffee cup gripped precariously in one hand, muttering something about milk. She takes a step forward and extends her hand, her smile wide. “I’m Penny Barnett. Substitute. Drama coach. You must be Mrs. Harper’s replacement?”
He straightens up and smiles and takes her hand, grip just a little too tight. “Yes,” he says. He looks nervous and Penny gives him her warmest smile. “I’m Leonard Hofstadter.”
Penny smiles again and waits a long beat for him to continue, and she laughs a little to herself when he just stares at her. “Okay. Well. Like I said, the creamer is in that cabinet. They buy the non-dairy, which is kind of lame, but it’s cheaper I guess.”
“I’m lactose intolerant, actually, so that’s helpful on my digestive tract. Otherwise, one glass of milk and I am zero fun to be around. Because of the … digestive distress.” His words are a jumble and he winces to himself, and looks away. “That was too much information. Sorry.”
Penny breathes out a laugh and nods her head toward the hallway. She remembers being new, having to prove herself to strangers and she knows the shoes he’s filling are exceptionally large. “You have time for a tour?”
Leonard nods his head while taking a sip of coffee and sloshes some on his hands. He winces again and Penny can’t help but smile, feeling instantly piteous and determined to help. “Come on, teach,” she says, taking his coffee from him and placing it in the sink. “I’ll show you the ropes.”
--
The first half of the semester passes smoothly, and she falls into the routine of things. At the school at 7 to start prepping lunches, waiting for word of teachers calling in sick. Drama club on Tuesdays and Thursdays, an hour and a half after school of helping kids learn lines and project emotion. Some days she fills classes as needed and helps supervise exams or day trips away from campus. Other days she stands over a buffet line and spoons beefaroni onto paper plates. Last year she got the superintendent to green light a districtwide reduction on styrofoam, so. That’s something.
Kurt gets a fifty cent raise at the market, and things at home are going smoothly enough. She catches him leaning over a counter at Zale’s one night at the mall, eyeing rings and other shiny things, but a month later he still hasn’t asked her to marry him. She figures she’ll wait it out until Christmas, and then figure out a way to have The Talk.
She introduces Leonard to Raj and the three of them are fast friends, eating lunch together in the staffroom when they can, bemoaning their sorry lives and lack of funding. Leonard makes moony eyes at her for approximately the first month of their friendship, but she mentions Kurt enough times that he backs off gallantly and it’s quickly forgotten. Things are actually picking up, it seems. Her drama kids take home a few more ribbons. She even finds a great pair of suede boots for half off.
Then it’s October, and things change overnight.
It starts with a fight she overhears between Mr. Cooper, Mr. Wolowitz, and Principal Andrews. She’d stayed behind in the lunchroom kitchen at the end of a particularly bad day when she hears voices from the hallway leading out to the main school corridor.
“It’s unjust that a mind like mine should be saddled with an inferior intellect!” There’s no mistaking the plaintive drawl of Mr. Cooper, and she edges closer to the hallway to try and catch a glimpse of whoever he’s arguing with. She peeks her head around the corner and sees Principal Andrews, mouth pinched tight and hands on her hips; Mr. Wolowitz, arms folded crossly in front of him and mouth opening and closing in disbelief; and Mr. Cooper, hands firmly clenched behind his back and nose pointed primly in the air. “It’s a travesty that I have to participate in this insipid program at all, let alone with someone whose intellectual merit can be outshone by my three-year-old niece.”
“I beg your pardon-” Wolowitz starts, but Principal Andrews-Debra, Penny corrects herself-raises her hands between the two of them and interrupts.
“Mr. Cooper, that’s an inappropriate and unprofessional way to speak about a colleague. Mr. Wolowitz is a perfectly adequate teacher, and by all accounts he’s done a satisfactory job advising the students the two of you were assigned.”
“Oh, that’s resounding praise. ‘Perfectly adequate.’ The toilets in the staff bathroom are doing a perfectly adequate job of removing liquid and solid waste from their bowls, let’s have them advise students too!”
“I’ll have you know,” Howard starts, raising a finger and stepping toward Mr. Cooper, “I was commended by my last school district for exemplary work in my field!”
“A district you were no doubt forced to leave due to your dubious behavior toward your female colleagues,” Cooper fires back, taking his own step forward. Penny bites her cheeks and grimaces. It’s true that Howard’s more than a little forward with the female staff, but he shies away when batted on the nose enough times and Penny’s even found herself enjoying his company in the rare, rare, rare moments he forgets she’s the owner of a vagina and two shiny breasts. It’s unfair of Mr. Cooper to go there, and her hands ball into fists at her side. She was already having a shitty day-there’s juice on the bottom of her shoes, and she smells like grease and fried meat-and her temper’s never very far from the surface these days anyway.
Penny sees Principal Andrews pinch the bridge of her nose, and when she speaks it’s through gritted teeth. “Okay,” she starts. “If the two of you really can’t work together, we’ll reassign Mr. Wolowitz to a different advisor group and pair you with someone you can work with instead. Are there any faculty members you’d be willing to partner with?” Penny can’t actually see inside Debra’s head, but she’s sure the older woman is mentally weighing the value of Mr. Cooper’s test scores against how much she’d like to punch him in the throat.
Mr. Cooper takes a step back and raises his chin. “Mrs. Harper is an acceptably worthy candidate.”
“Mrs. Harper is currently on maternity leave,” Debra counters. “Pick someone else.”
Mr. Cooper’s shoulders drop. “I don’t see why that’s necessary. There are other species of mammal that have recovery times of mere hours after giving birth. Allowing Mrs. Harper five months seems excessive.”
“Mrs. Harper will be back at the beginning of next semester. Until then, pick someone else.”
It’s then that Penny leans too far forward, picking her foot off the ground. The sticky sweet sound of the juice stuck to the bottom of her shoe pulling away from the laminated tile makes the three teachers turn their heads toward the kitchen, and Penny’s forced to make a split second decision and act like she was just rounding the corner, as natural as can be.
“Oh, hey,” she starts. “You guys looking for leftovers from today? Chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes are always a crowd pleaser so I’m afraid we’re all out.” Her smile is too wide, her voice too loud. Maybe there’s a reason she didn’t try to become an actress after all.
Penny’s greeted by three sets of narrowed eyes as she tries to move quickly past, and she gives Howard a sympathetic look as she walks by him. She’s stopped cold by Principal Andrews’ voice from behind her. “Penny, you expressed an interest in the advisor program if I recall correctly?”
She freezes with her back to them and twists her face in exasperation. When she collects herself and turns to face them, Sheldon’s got his hands up in front of his chest, a look of sheer horror on his face.
“Oh, no. No! There’s no possible way I will be paired with the school lunchlady. Even Lascivious Mr. Wolowitz is preferable to that alternative. To put it in language you’ll understand, I believe the colloquialism is: over my dead body.”
“Hey!” Penny squeaks.
“I’m sorry, but do you even have a teaching license? A bachelor’s degree?” He’s leaning down toward her, face full of superiority, and she can’t even muster the attitude to meet his gaze.
“I have an associate’s degree from John Adams College and, and-”
“You also have potato salad in your hair,” he answers.
It’s the last straw on an already bad day, but when the tension snaps, she feels herself pull inward, all her anger and frustration falling down until all she is is sad. She clenches her jaw and her eyes start to fill, and when she speaks her voice is barely louder than a whisper. “You can’t treat people like that.” She looks up to meet his eyes and his expression is oddly blank, his features drawn in, contemplative. “I know you think you’re ten times smarter than everyone else in this school, and maybe you are, but you work here just like we do, and you can’t treat people like they’re not worth your time.” She pulls her arms in front her chest, protective, and digs her nails into her skin. “You don’t care more about these kids than I do, and if you did, you’d quit complaining about having to spend more time with them and try to help them instead.”
They all spend a few tense moments just breathing, and Penny keeps her eyes firmly set on her soiled shoes. It’s finally Principal Andrews who breaks the silence. “Mr. Cooper, I will try to think of someone to partner with you for the advisor program. Until then-”
“That won’t be necessary,” he interrupts. His voice is different, lower, and Penny raises her head to find his eyes locked on hers. “Ms. Barnett, I apologize for my earlier behavior. It was uncalled for and out of line.” He clears his throat and raises his chin and turns to face Principal Andrews. “Pairing me with Ms. Barnett is an acceptable solution. We will meet tomorrow morning to discuss scheduling and any necessary details?”
Debra just nods her head, eyes wide and lips parted in surprise. She looks back and forth from Penny to Mr. Cooper, who nods once in Penny’s direction and says, “That is acceptable. Excuse me.” He brushes past the rest of them, and Penny opens and closes her mouth a few times as she watches him walk away. When she turns back, everyone’s eyes are wide and unbelieving.
“Yeah,” Howard finally says, stretching the word out long. “I don’t understand what just happened.”
Penny doesn’t say anything, just swallows hard and looks around, but she feels the same way.
--
She tries to tell Kurt about it, about the way Mr. Cooper tried to talk to her, about how she kind of lost it and almost started to cry. She tries to tell him about the expression on his face, the way his eyes kind of softened and widened at the same time, how he was suddenly apologetic and changed. Different.
She tries to tell Kurt about it, but it’s Monday night and there’s football on and he probably wouldn’t care anyway.
--
Penny realizes that she’s nervous at about the same she realizes that she is wholly unprepared for this meeting. She got to school at 7, like she usually does, but instead of heading for the kitchen she went to the physics classrooms, where she now stands wordlessly, waiting for Mr. Cooper to show up. Her stomach is a knot as she takes a seat at one of the lab tables, fingering the handle of a gas outlet and counting in her head all the reasons this is a bad idea. She’s sure working with him is going to be impossible because he’s still a gigantic pain in the ass, his rare flash of humanity aside, and maybe these new students will hate her and he’s right, she probably isn’t qualified. She’s so focused on all the reasons this is already a disaster that she misses Mr. Cooper’s entrance into the room, and she starts at the sound of him clearing his throat for what is undoubtedly not the first time, if his annoyed expression is any indication.
He turns away from her, and she’s insulted for a moment before she realizes that she is meant to follow him, and when she catches up, she’s missed the first part of his sentence. “-But you were on time at least,” he concludes.
“I always get here at 7,” she replies. “I don’t really have to be here until 7:30, but I don’t want to be late and get behind on lunches. 700 servings of chicken fingers aren’t going to cook themselves.” She’s chattering nervously and she knows it; he doesn’t once look at her while they walk, and she doesn’t stop talking until they reach the door of what must be his office. She waits quietly while he unlocks it and then he motions her inside.
It’s as meticulously clean as she knew it would be, but with more personal touches than she was expecting. There’s a photograph on his desk of dark-haired women, three generations of wide, willing smiles that she cannot imagine seeing stretched across his face. There’s another of what must be his immediate family, two of the women from before and two men, father and brother. He’s posed like the rest of them, dressed just the same, but he still doesn’t quite fit, she notices, as she passes the photos to take a seat in front of his desk.
But even more than the photographs, what surprises her are the books. He’s got three book shelves crammed along the tiny walls of his office, and there’s hardly a free space to be found. She sees encyclopedias, scientific journals, and textbook after textbook on all sorts of subjects: zoology, history, poetry, astronomy. There’s also half a whiteboard sticking out from one of the bookshelves, and she sees part of a complicated formula sketched out in cramped writing.
He clears his throat again, and she turns back to him, embarrassed at being caught staring. He levels her with a barely tolerant look and says, “You know that advisor meetings take place first period Friday mornings, correct?”
She nods her head and then finds her voice. “Yes,” she answers, “I know.”
“We will be supervising a group of ten students, all from the sophomore class.” He hands her a print-out with ten names on it, as well as a list of the classes and extracurriculars of each student. “Any questions so far?”
“No, Mr. Cooper, I think I’ve got it.” He sounds like he’s talking to one of his high schoolers, and she’s remembering very quickly why this is a giant mistake. She’s about to make a pointed remark on his tone when he interrupts her.
“Sheldon.”
She pulls back, surprised. “What?”
“My name is Sheldon. Since we will be working together as colleagues, I believe it is expected we forego formal titles and adopt a more informal greeting, is it not?” He looks at her expectantly and she nods. “Okay then. We’ll begin by-”
“Penny,” she interrupts. He looks at her quietly, eyes cast down a moment as if remembering now that social decorum requires him to ask her name, too. She smiles quickly to herself, not quite as fearful as she’d been just moments before.
“Penny.” He clears his throat and turns back to the paper in his hand. “Noted.”
--
Raj and Leonard are both sympathetic when she tells them about her new partnership at lunch that afternoon. “It’s going to be fine,” she reassures them for the third-or thirtieth-time. “We met this morning and it actually wasn’t that bad.”
Raj gives Leonard a look that says plainly I do not believe this will not end in the death of all involved and then asks her, voice low, “I know you want to prove yourself to Andrews, but aren’t there any other ways?”
“Yeah,” Leonard says, pushing bits of corn around his plate. “Like eating glass, or walking over hot coals?”
“Seriously, you guys,” Penny pleads. “Stop talking about it like it’s the end of the world or you’re going to freak me out about it too.” She knows they have her best interests in mind, but really, she’s a little disappointed in them for not thinking she can handle this. She doesn’t need her doubts reaffirmed at all, let alone by two of her closest friends. She doesn’t say anything, though, just takes a bite of her tuna salad and steals a few of Raj’s chips.
She’s interrupted a moment later by Howard Wolowitz as he seats himself beside her and scoots his chair closer to hers. “Penny, thank you so much for yesterday. You really took a hit for me.” Penny’s smile is tight when she looks at him, at the sawdust clinging to the fabric of his turtleneck and the nervous play of his fingers over the thimble in his hand. “I couldn’t take another meeting with Mr. Annoying Cooper and all his rants! Inappropriate conduct this, incorrect Star Trek canon that, and god, if he didn’t shut up about-”
“Enough!” Penny’s voice is loud enough to turn more than a few heads in the lunchroom, and she gives them all a small smile before looking back to Howard. “No more talking about how terrible Sheldon Cooper is and how much it’s going to suck when I work with him. Now Howard, you may sit, but you may not speak or look directly at me if you’re going to address any part of my body but my face, okay?”
The guys all look properly chastised and sit quietly a moment before Leonard asks, “So, Star Trek, huh? What did you think of the new movie?”
From then on out it’s 100% sci-fi geekdom and she can only be expected to hold her own for so long, but at least they aren’t telling her she’s going to totally regret this anymore, so. That’s something.
--
“Baby, where did I leave my brown jacket? The one with the collar and the buttons?” Penny’s rooting around under the bed for her other brown boot, eyes darting quickly to the clock on the nightstand. They’re going to be late for the movie at this rate, and Penny doesn’t want to hear it if Kurt doesn’t get to watch things explode and hot girls run around beating people up. Not that she doesn’t want to see the movie too. She likes things exploding just fine.
Her hand closes around the heel of her shoe and she calls out, “It’s in the closet, in the back.”
“No, it’s not. I’ve checked the closet.”
“It’s in there, just-hang on, I’ll be right there.” She pulls her boot on and straightens her hair, grabs Kurt’s jacket and they’re out the door.
The movie is slightly less terrible than she was expecting, but it’s by no means a cinematic marvel. Kurt keeps his hand on her knee most of the time, and she spends part of the movie watching him watch the screen, which she knows he hates but she does anyway. He gets a look on his face when he laughs, a crinkle just around the eyes, that he’s had since they were kids, and it hits her square in the chest every time she sees it. She knows he isn’t perfect, that there are things about their relationship that leave a lot to be desired, but she’s known him since the tenth grade and that counts for something too. He knows the way she takes her coffee, and the spot on her neck that’s always tight with frustration, and his fingers are always gentle as they fall against her skin. There is a comfort in knowing so well the man she’s sharing her life with, but-when she lets herself-Penny sometimes wonders if that’s the only thing that’s keeping them together.
There’s another explosion on screen and someone goes flying, and Kurt laughs again. Penny lays her hand over his and they stay like that until the lights come on.
--
“So Jamie told Tommy that I said that Val and Rachel weren’t going to his party, because they were going to Austin’s instead, and then Tommy and Rachel got into this huge fight and broke up, and now Rachel and Val won’t even talk to me. And I didn’t ever say anything to Jamie because I was in Burmington with my dad all weekend and I left my phone at my mom’s!”
Nobody talks for a second, and when Penny looks over at Sheldon, he’s sitting with his hands on his knees and his mouth hanging open just a little. She smiles to herself and then nods at Sarah. “Well, it sounds to me like there’s something going on between you and Jamie. Did anything happen with you guys?”
Sarah dips her head and shrugs her shoulders, saying loudly, “It’s not my fault that Rachel asked me to go to Florida with her family instead of asking Jamie! Even if they had been best friends since fourth grade!”
The rest of the meeting continues in pretty much the same vein. A few of the kids are struggling with classes, and there are friendship problems and girlfriend problems. One boy’s parents are getting divorced, and one girl’s grandmother has cancer, but Penny handles herself well and by the time the kids all leave, no one’s crying or dropped out of school.
It hasn’t escaped her attention that Sheldon has stayed quiet nearly the whole time. When she looks at him as she closes the door behind the last student, he is busy shuffling the papers on his desk, his head dipped and eyes low.
“So,” she says, taking a seat on the desk at the front of the classroom, “is that what your meetings are usually like?”
He clears his throat and pulls out his chair, taking a seat and settling his hands on his desk. “Previous meetings have been markedly less talkative. I will admit I am unaccustomed to dealing with such disparate emotions from the students.” Penny supresses a smile. Of course the students didn’t feel comfortable talking to Cooper and Wolowitz, she thinks to herself, and a sense of pride blooms in her chest knowing that she did some real good this morning. “I believe your presence was … helpful.”
She knows it is the highest praise she’s likely to receive, so she smiles and stands, moving to the door. “Thank you,” she says, turning back to him, one hand on the knob. “I’ll see you next week to prep Friday’s meeting?”
He is already focused on something else, his eyes narrowed at the paper in his hand. “That is acceptable,” he says without looking up. She shakes her head and sighs as she goes.
--
It’s two weeks before Sheldon opens his mouth at all during one of their mentoring meetings, and it’s three before he says anything that’s actually useful.
“I’m going to fail math,” Bobby Newton says.
“You aren’t going to fail math,” Penny assures him. She’s talked to Ms. Walker; Bobby’s grades are low, but adequate, and it’s not for lack of trying. She’d tell him that some people just aren’t good at math, but she knows it’s no help, since the class is required.
She’s surprised to hear Sheldon pipe up from beside her. “What is the subject material that is proving too difficult?”
Bobby looks at Penny, his eyes questioning, but then he swallows hard and turns back to Mr. Cooper. “It’s geometry. The proofs. I don’t understand.”
Sheldon tightens his hands on his knees, narrows his eyes and gives the boy a once-over. He must be satisfied with what he sees, because he nods his head just slightly and says, “Bring your textbook and notes to me after school and I’ll go over them with you.” Off Penny’s pointed look, Sheldon just stares at her and raises his eyebrows, so she adds, “If that time is open in your shedule.”
She’s not there for the after-school meeting that day, but the next week Bobby doesn’t complain about his math grades any more, and Sheldon frowns in confusion a little bit less. Penny stops him to ask about it, but Sheldon just gives her a look and says, “The work of Euclid and Pythagorus is accessable to even the basest of mathematical minds, if presented in the proper way.” She still doesn’t quite understand, but he’s already turned back to his gradebook, so she leaves it at that.
--
“I’m just saying it would be nice if you would visit your brother.” Penny’s hand tightens around the receiver, and her mother’s voice bounces around the room, tinny and far away. “I know he’d like to see you.”
Penny sighs and runs her hand through her hair. She can hear Kurt banging around in the kitchen, and she turns away and lays her head back against the couch cushion. “Mom, I’m busy,” she lies, shutting her eyes and stretching her neck out long. “Maybe next week.”
“We never see you! You live ten miles away and only come over on days when the banks are closed!” her mother says. Penny knows that she doesn’t go home enough, that she doesn’t visit or babysit enough, that she keeps a certain distance between her family and her life that she is loathe to alter. There are too many things at home Penny can do without, so she keeps her distance and puts up with the phone calls instead. It seems like a fair trade-off, but it’s still hardly a win-win.
Her mother keeps going, on and on about her brother and her sisters and her father and the farm, but Penny doesn’t say anything, just swallows hard and keeps listening.
--
It’s a Wednesday the first time it happens. Driver’s Ed starts up and some of the classes shift, and Sheldon walks into the teacher’s loungue just as she’s sitting down to lunch with Howard and Leonard and Raj. She sees Sheldon walk over to the fridge, reaching in to grab a neatly packaged and profusely labeled lunch, and then turn and scan the room for an empty seat. Howard’s halfway through a story about a Maxim model he met at some party last weekend, and she takes a deep breath and interrupts, “Alright, don’t get mad at me for what’s about the happen.”
The three guys all look at her quizically as she stands up and calls out, “Mr. Cooper, there’s a chair over here.” He turns his head and finds her eyes and she makes an effort to smile extra brightly, pulling out the hard plastic chair beside her.
----
Does this count as official fandom retirement? Do I still need to fill out forms or something?