team building exercises {tbbt - penny, sheldon}
Title: Team Building Exercises
Fandom: The Big Bang Theory
Characters/Pairings: Penny, Sheldon. Shipper-ish.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,415
Author's Note: For Week One @ the Paradox-O-Rama that sheldon_penny is holding. Picture #2. Posted to my journal because it was too long to post in a comment.
Summary: Penny wasn't a cheerleader.
Penny wasn’t a cheerleader.
Everybody always just assumes; it’s the blonde and the boobs and the generally peppy attitude that she manages most of the time.
She’s dated a string of ex-football players, one of whom seemed to treat her as a method of reliving his glory days. Glory days that were all of four years ago (these were jocks, after all, and she’s talking high school football).
Wrong fantasy, buddy.
She was a cheerleader for Halloween, her fourth year in the apartment. Red and white uniform with a skirt that she actually kept pulling down, pom-poms that were bigger than her head, ponytail high and bouncy. If she had been auditioning for Bring It On 15 or whichever one they were on, she probably would’ve felt right at home.
The last part was right; she was at home. Technically, in the hallway outside of her home. Apartment. Whatever.
Convincing Sheldon to let her use his and Leonard’s apartment, in addition to her own had been fun.
(“But yours is bigger,” she’d half-whined, half-pleased.
Leonard was on the couch doing this thing where he would look up every ten seconds or so and try to meet Sheldon’s gaze, lock eyes and lay down the law and all of that, except he kept copping out on the count of, well, one.
The part where she giggled behind a closed fist and only thought ‘that’s what she said’ probably didn’t help her case.
She offered to do his laundry for a month.
He let her use their apartment, at least the living room part of it because “no one can be in my bedroom”, under the condition that she made sure “the heathens” didn’t touch any of his things. And that she didn’t touch his laundry.)
Unfortunately, that part had been more fun than the actual party.
Whoever tried to grab her ass when she was moving between apartments was lucky that she didn’t know where that baseball bat of hers was at.
Seriously. She got enough of that shit at the Cheesecake Factory.
Sheldon was plastered against the wall, not dressed up - he felt it would distract from his self-assigned job of making sure no one reordered the cereal boxes or erased his whiteboard or whatever it was that he was so worried about - and she guessed he had his personal space invaded enough tonight that the action of grabbing a hold of his arm and standing on tiptoe to whisper something to him was met with absolutely no reaction. He just stood. Calmly. Eyes on the people mingling.
“Do me a favor?”
He pulled back to look at her dead-on. She blinked rapidly; her mascara was flaking and she really needed to invest in a decent brand next time. Or put less on. “Haven’t I already done you enough favors tonight?”
“Just one more.”
“What?”
“Come get me in fifteen minutes?”
“Come get you?” He asked, and she let go of him, started down the hall. “From where?”
She gave him a raised eyebrow with her hand on the doorknob of his bedroom. And then she let herself in and closed it definitively.
Penny wasn’t chancing hiding in Leonard’s room, not if there was any chance at all of him hooking up with someone. He was a nice enough guy and some of her friends were pretty loose and a lot of their friends were even looser. It would just be wholly awkward.
There were already people making out in her bedroom. She’d checked.
So. Sheldon’s. No chance of anyone crossing that threshold.
She just needed more than a foot on all sides of her that wasn’t occupied by another person. A breather.
Parties were fun, until a point, and that point was when there were too many people she didn’t know and didn’t have any interest in knowing. Grabby hands, for example.
Just fifteen minutes.
She got ninety seconds and then Sheldon was joining her on the other side of the door.
“You’re abandoning your post, soldier, aren’t you afraid you might get court-martialed for that?”
He looks at her rather oddly.
“It’s a joke, Sheldon. I know you can’t detect sarcasm but seriously.”
And then she flops down on his bed, sideways because god forbid she gets glitter on the pillows. He might forgive her for the bedspread.
He makes a noise that sounds like a sharp little whistle through his teeth, followed by a long-suffering, “Penny.”
“Come on, you’re hiding out with a cheerleader right now. That’s like street cred with some of those people.”
“Why?”
“Because…” she stops herself - not going there. Not having the ‘they probably think we’re making out’ conversation. She hasn’t had anything to drink but vodka and cranberry juice an hour and a half ago.
Sheldon starts up again before she can say anything else. “Also, they would be incorrect. You weren’t a cheerleader, despite what your costume suggests. Rather disproportionately, might I add; the cheerleading outfits I saw at the multitude of football games I was dragged to in my youth were considerably more modest.”
“Yes, but this is a sexy cheerleading costume.” She’s not saying it’s sexy. She’s just repeating what the tag said. Also, score one for the physicist for actually listening when she talked about her high school days, instead of just assuming.
“Why?”
He doesn’t appear to be asking to be an ass; he looks truly perplexed.
She can’t tell if that means he doesn’t find her attractive or thinks that she’s attractive regardless of the attire.
She definitely doesn’t want to ask that question.
Instead, she just settles for, “because boys are stupid.” She catches his eye. “You excluded. And usually Leonard. And where the hell are Howard and Raj anyways?”
“Leonard and I thought it best if Howard was left unaware, so as to keep him from potentially causing the destruction of several of your friendships. Also Raj is trying to stay away from alcohol after he nearly ended up with alcohol poisoning at your last party.”
“Right.” Good call on everyone’s part. She kicks off her shoes and bends her knees, feet flat against the bedspread. “So I take it you’re not having any fun tonight?” His lack of an answer is a suitable one. “Sorry.”
“It’s to be expected. Communicating on an intellectual level with some of these people is more of a challenge than it’s worth.”
It’s not really a smile that graces her face, more of a sad twist of her lips, but at the beginning it feels like it might be one. “I am those people.”
He laughs, that quiet little bubbling of noise that passes for a laugh with him. “With a loss of more than a few IQ points, potentially yes.”
“You don’t know my IQ.” Hell, she doesn’t know her IQ. Except what that test online gave her. She’s pretty sure those things are wildly inaccurate though.
“Do you use an integral or a differential to solve for the area under a curve?”
She bites her lip and thinks, answering in a slightly unsure voice. “Integral.”
“Correct,” he says and when she looks at him from upside down he seems rather pleased.
“Got it in one.” Now there’s a smile on her face. He told her that a while ago, or more accurately showed her how like it was something of utmost important. It’s simple recall but it’s one of the many things she’s picked up from these guys.
And, hey, having the mental capacity to even learn these things is half the battle anyway.
She’s no cheerleader. At least not one of the stereotypical ones.
“You know you can sit down. You don’t have to hold the door up.” He furrows his brow. Yeah. Sarcasm again.
He sits tentatively on the edge, like his own bed might bite him. It’s funny to watch him, shifting and ramrod straight, his thigh six inches from her feet, and after a moment she sits up and pulls at his arm. He goes down easy. She’s pretty freaking strong when she wants to be and he’s not much of a fighter, at least with her.
“Penny?” He questions, tentative. They’re side by side on the bed, enough space between them that it doesn’t feel intimate. It just feels nice.
“Just fifteen minutes, Sheldon.”
“But it’s been six already.”
“Then just fifteen more.”
She counts until his breathing syncs up with hers and even then she still doesn’t let go of her hold on his arm.
Fandom: The Big Bang Theory
Characters/Pairings: Penny, Sheldon. Shipper-ish.
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,415
Author's Note: For Week One @ the Paradox-O-Rama that sheldon_penny is holding. Picture #2. Posted to my journal because it was too long to post in a comment.
Summary: Penny wasn't a cheerleader.
Penny wasn’t a cheerleader.
Everybody always just assumes; it’s the blonde and the boobs and the generally peppy attitude that she manages most of the time.
She’s dated a string of ex-football players, one of whom seemed to treat her as a method of reliving his glory days. Glory days that were all of four years ago (these were jocks, after all, and she’s talking high school football).
Wrong fantasy, buddy.
She was a cheerleader for Halloween, her fourth year in the apartment. Red and white uniform with a skirt that she actually kept pulling down, pom-poms that were bigger than her head, ponytail high and bouncy. If she had been auditioning for Bring It On 15 or whichever one they were on, she probably would’ve felt right at home.
The last part was right; she was at home. Technically, in the hallway outside of her home. Apartment. Whatever.
Convincing Sheldon to let her use his and Leonard’s apartment, in addition to her own had been fun.
(“But yours is bigger,” she’d half-whined, half-pleased.
Leonard was on the couch doing this thing where he would look up every ten seconds or so and try to meet Sheldon’s gaze, lock eyes and lay down the law and all of that, except he kept copping out on the count of, well, one.
The part where she giggled behind a closed fist and only thought ‘that’s what she said’ probably didn’t help her case.
She offered to do his laundry for a month.
He let her use their apartment, at least the living room part of it because “no one can be in my bedroom”, under the condition that she made sure “the heathens” didn’t touch any of his things. And that she didn’t touch his laundry.)
Unfortunately, that part had been more fun than the actual party.
Whoever tried to grab her ass when she was moving between apartments was lucky that she didn’t know where that baseball bat of hers was at.
Seriously. She got enough of that shit at the Cheesecake Factory.
Sheldon was plastered against the wall, not dressed up - he felt it would distract from his self-assigned job of making sure no one reordered the cereal boxes or erased his whiteboard or whatever it was that he was so worried about - and she guessed he had his personal space invaded enough tonight that the action of grabbing a hold of his arm and standing on tiptoe to whisper something to him was met with absolutely no reaction. He just stood. Calmly. Eyes on the people mingling.
“Do me a favor?”
He pulled back to look at her dead-on. She blinked rapidly; her mascara was flaking and she really needed to invest in a decent brand next time. Or put less on. “Haven’t I already done you enough favors tonight?”
“Just one more.”
“What?”
“Come get me in fifteen minutes?”
“Come get you?” He asked, and she let go of him, started down the hall. “From where?”
She gave him a raised eyebrow with her hand on the doorknob of his bedroom. And then she let herself in and closed it definitively.
Penny wasn’t chancing hiding in Leonard’s room, not if there was any chance at all of him hooking up with someone. He was a nice enough guy and some of her friends were pretty loose and a lot of their friends were even looser. It would just be wholly awkward.
There were already people making out in her bedroom. She’d checked.
So. Sheldon’s. No chance of anyone crossing that threshold.
She just needed more than a foot on all sides of her that wasn’t occupied by another person. A breather.
Parties were fun, until a point, and that point was when there were too many people she didn’t know and didn’t have any interest in knowing. Grabby hands, for example.
Just fifteen minutes.
She got ninety seconds and then Sheldon was joining her on the other side of the door.
“You’re abandoning your post, soldier, aren’t you afraid you might get court-martialed for that?”
He looks at her rather oddly.
“It’s a joke, Sheldon. I know you can’t detect sarcasm but seriously.”
And then she flops down on his bed, sideways because god forbid she gets glitter on the pillows. He might forgive her for the bedspread.
He makes a noise that sounds like a sharp little whistle through his teeth, followed by a long-suffering, “Penny.”
“Come on, you’re hiding out with a cheerleader right now. That’s like street cred with some of those people.”
“Why?”
“Because…” she stops herself - not going there. Not having the ‘they probably think we’re making out’ conversation. She hasn’t had anything to drink but vodka and cranberry juice an hour and a half ago.
Sheldon starts up again before she can say anything else. “Also, they would be incorrect. You weren’t a cheerleader, despite what your costume suggests. Rather disproportionately, might I add; the cheerleading outfits I saw at the multitude of football games I was dragged to in my youth were considerably more modest.”
“Yes, but this is a sexy cheerleading costume.” She’s not saying it’s sexy. She’s just repeating what the tag said. Also, score one for the physicist for actually listening when she talked about her high school days, instead of just assuming.
“Why?”
He doesn’t appear to be asking to be an ass; he looks truly perplexed.
She can’t tell if that means he doesn’t find her attractive or thinks that she’s attractive regardless of the attire.
She definitely doesn’t want to ask that question.
Instead, she just settles for, “because boys are stupid.” She catches his eye. “You excluded. And usually Leonard. And where the hell are Howard and Raj anyways?”
“Leonard and I thought it best if Howard was left unaware, so as to keep him from potentially causing the destruction of several of your friendships. Also Raj is trying to stay away from alcohol after he nearly ended up with alcohol poisoning at your last party.”
“Right.” Good call on everyone’s part. She kicks off her shoes and bends her knees, feet flat against the bedspread. “So I take it you’re not having any fun tonight?” His lack of an answer is a suitable one. “Sorry.”
“It’s to be expected. Communicating on an intellectual level with some of these people is more of a challenge than it’s worth.”
It’s not really a smile that graces her face, more of a sad twist of her lips, but at the beginning it feels like it might be one. “I am those people.”
He laughs, that quiet little bubbling of noise that passes for a laugh with him. “With a loss of more than a few IQ points, potentially yes.”
“You don’t know my IQ.” Hell, she doesn’t know her IQ. Except what that test online gave her. She’s pretty sure those things are wildly inaccurate though.
“Do you use an integral or a differential to solve for the area under a curve?”
She bites her lip and thinks, answering in a slightly unsure voice. “Integral.”
“Correct,” he says and when she looks at him from upside down he seems rather pleased.
“Got it in one.” Now there’s a smile on her face. He told her that a while ago, or more accurately showed her how like it was something of utmost important. It’s simple recall but it’s one of the many things she’s picked up from these guys.
And, hey, having the mental capacity to even learn these things is half the battle anyway.
She’s no cheerleader. At least not one of the stereotypical ones.
“You know you can sit down. You don’t have to hold the door up.” He furrows his brow. Yeah. Sarcasm again.
He sits tentatively on the edge, like his own bed might bite him. It’s funny to watch him, shifting and ramrod straight, his thigh six inches from her feet, and after a moment she sits up and pulls at his arm. He goes down easy. She’s pretty freaking strong when she wants to be and he’s not much of a fighter, at least with her.
“Penny?” He questions, tentative. They’re side by side on the bed, enough space between them that it doesn’t feel intimate. It just feels nice.
“Just fifteen minutes, Sheldon.”
“But it’s been six already.”
“Then just fifteen more.”
She counts until his breathing syncs up with hers and even then she still doesn’t let go of her hold on his arm.