The Paternal Catalyst 16
The Paternal Catalyst
Rating: PG
Word Count: Over 44,000 in all
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize except California. That I rule.
Spoilers: Up to the Maternal Congruence
Summary: Because of Penny's father, Penny finds herself hiding in the laundry room while Sheldon constructs a dating formula and Leonard performs human experiments.
Author's Note: In this fic, Bernadette and Howard are broken up. I originally had a subplot that revolved around their break-up and make-up. However, I couldn't really work it in without disrupting the flow. I MAY write it as a companion piece but as of now, consider this fic AU in that respect.
(This fic was beta'd by the charming talkingmetaphor without whom I would still have the shoddy grammar that comes from writing while an insomniac)
Thanks everyone for your comments/criticism!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
16
Penny
‘I’m here,’ I said into the phone.
‘Penny,’ scolded Sheldon’s voice and his sharp intake of breath signaled a long speech. I set the phone down so I could navigate the parking lot with both hands. It seemed like every single person walking around was so full of smarts they couldn’t bother to pay attention to the red sedan that just nearly knocked them over. When I crooked the phone back into my ear, Sheldon was still talking. ‘. . . greeting, not address your location or the subject of your calling. Furthermore--’
I cut him off. ‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. Listen, are you standing out here anywhere? I can’t see you.’ I peered at the eclectic groups of scientists. I’d figured all smart people dressed similarly. Meaning, like Sheldon and Leonard. Maybe like Raj. But then again, nobody else dressed like the fifth Beatle. It was so diverse I instantly thought of high school.
‘No I am still in my office.’
‘Well how much longer are you going to be?’
There was some muffled sounds of paper shuffling and he said, ‘Fifteen minutes, eighteen seconds. Seventeen. Sixteen.’
‘Sheldon,’ I practically whined. ‘It’s hot out here.’ Last week my air conditioning crapped out and I hadn’t had any money to fix it. Californian weather is said to be very moderate and that is true… when you get closer to the ocean, where the wind blows cold off the water. Further in, you get heat waves just like anybody else. Pasadena, unfortunately, was a good drive from the ocean.
A gust of static. ‘So long as you aren’t distractive, you may park and wait in my office.’
‘But Leonard . . .’
‘He works in a different building. Parking is assigned over here, but you may park in my spot. Assuming you are at the proper building, it is on the north-west side, against the building, near a rather formidable bush.’
‘I . . .’ I tried, driving slowly to look at the signs at the head of each parking space.
‘Take the nearest door and go straight in sixteen and a half feet. Turn right down the hallway. You’ll find yourself in a break room. The door farthest from you will lead you to hallway B. My office is on the right. Goodbye.’ Then he hung up.
I’d barely gotten any of that, on account of not wanting to commit vehicular homicide today. I was so busy trying to remember what he’d said that I’d passed Sheldon’s spot before I noticed it. Doubling back, I pulled in, wondering how someone with no car could get such an amazing spot. I walked through the set of double-doors, the blast of AC was orgasmic. Okay, he’d said to go straight . . . I found a hallway and walked down there. Forever. I was just worried I’d gone the wrong way when I walked past a set of doors that lead into a cafeteria area. A few people were seated at tables, none of them familiar looking fortunately. Not only did the employees remind me of students, the building reminded me of the hallways of Central High. Sure, yeah I knew Cal-tech was a school but I’d expected it to be more . . . I don’t know, collegiate. These people were all geniuses . . . I don’t know.
I’d forgotten the directions from there, but remembered Hallway B. However, these weren’t labeled. Finally, I did spot someone familiar, if only vaguely. ‘Uh, hey,’ I called out, having forgotten his name.
The man immediately turned and waited for me to catch up. His eyes leered at me. ‘Hewwo again,’ he greeted.
His dirty look and the dried sweat made me want a shower more than I’d wanted anything else. ‘Listen, um . . .’
‘Kwipky,’ he said, the smile never leaving his face. ‘Bawwy Kwipky. You’we Woxanne, wight?’
Oh, what the hell. ‘I’m a bit lost. Do you know where Sheldon’s office is?’
His expression immediately grew annoyed. ‘Coopah? Yeah, fowwow me.’ He pouted the entire way but fortunately, I’d only been a hallway off. When I saw a nameplate bearing Sheldon’s name, I honed in on it like it was home base. ‘Thank you,’ I said to Barry.
He nodded and stomped off.
I rapped three times on the door and, because I thought it might be amusing (to me), I said, ‘Sheldon,’ and rapped three more times. I repeated the process twice more before I heard his voice say, ‘Come in.’
Behind a large desk, Sheldon was hunched over papers, scribbling with mechanical ease. He looked up when I entered with a slight, required smile. ‘Oh, hello, Penny. Have a seat.’ He gestured with his pen toward the chair in front of his desk and I obeyed willingly. His office, much like his apartment, was kept very cool and I reclined back, soaking it in, letting it take me further away from heat stroke.
Sheldon immediately fell back into his work, blocking me out. I tried looking around but there wasn’t anything interesting to see. The whiteboards had the same mumbo-jumbo on them as his ones at home, and the book cases contained large volumes of things, some which seemed to be titled in Greek. ‘So,’ I tried, ‘this stuff is cool. You know, your work and . . . office.’
‘Penny.’ It was all he said and gave me a meaningful look. For the first time, I really noticed his eyes. Sheldon looked for the entire world like he truly held the universe’s secrets behind those baby blues. ‘You have really pretty eyes,’ I said.
He rolled them and glared at me.
Of course, it’s impossible to compliment Sheldon. ‘Sorry, I’ll shut up.’ I wasn’t sure why I even bothered.
Now, instead of looking for something to entertain me, I studied Sheldon. Along with the eyes, other features came into focus. For instance, his hair seemed to be slightly mussed, as if he’d been gripping handfuls of it in frustration. He was wearing an off-white pinstriped shirt that was open at the top two buttons. His blue tie was loosened. What was most surprising was he had a bit of a five o’clock shadow showing. Somehow I’d assumed his face was always so clean-shaven because he hadn’t the need to shave. He was so particular about his looks and hygiene and I’d assumed nothing would come between him and his health. But as he wrote away, so sure in his work, so… at ease with it all, I knew his job could very well do that.
I remembered the girl, Ramona and my shock when she’d called Sheldon cute. It wasn’t that I ever thought he was ugly or anything; he just didn’t fit my definition of someone . . . attractive. I guess I hadn’t seen him as possible for a romantic interest. Now, I wondered if she’d just seen what I had yet to see. Had she come into his office and caught him putting his brilliance to work? Not spouting off facts or babbling about physics, or even scheming with the others. No, just sitting, in his own bubble, doing brilliant things. Had he looked unkempt as he did before me? Because I could see it, see how he could be attractive. It wasn’t how I usually labeled guys as attractive. I mean, they had strong jaws, nice tans, a muscular back and mischievous grin. But something about Sheldon’s confidence, the ease he wrote with . . . how he wasn’t being neurotic or complaining . . . I still didn’t agree with Ramona’s assessment of calling him ‘cute’. I’d rather go for sexy.
Shouldn’t I feel dirty thinking that? I wondered. The office, actually a decent space, seemed too small and far, far too warm. I wanted Sheldon to hurry up and finish so I could be reassured in his craziness. The sick part of me couldn’t look away and wished he’d stay this version of himself. Apparently it had been far too long since I’d last had sex. At that thought, I suddenly imagined a whiplash of events. The feel of Sheldon’s soft shirt as I tiptoed out of his bedroom, how warm his body had been as I’d pressed against him. His hands frozen on my right breast, not kneading or groping or rubbing: just sitting there innocently. At least it had felt innocent at the time, now it felt anything but. I remembered the feel of his long fingers grazing my thighs as he’d pulled my shorts up. It must have been there when he looked at my courage tattoo. Had he touched it, too? I couldn’t remember and it was getting increasingly important that I know.
I was on my feet so fast the chair wobbled from the sudden loss of weight. I stood by the bookshelf behind the door, as far from Sheldon as I could get. I could feel Sheldon watching me curiously but I pointedly didn’t look at him. Instead I spent the rest of the time studying the books there with such intensity I wouldn’t have been surprised if one started to slide out toward me.
‘Whenever you’re done, I’m ready to leave.’
I jerked and whipped my head up. Sheldon stood next to me, far too close. But his interest was on the bookshelf, not me.
I gestured lamely to a book. ‘I, uh, was just interested by um . . .’ I picked a title at random. ‘The Time Machine by H.G. Wells. I love time-travel stories.’ At least, I did when they included romance and/or the Victorian Era.
‘Oh, it’s a fascinating story. Herbert Wells is often credited for the popularization of time-travel stories. That much is debatable but it’s incontrovertible that he invented the very term time machine and the idea of a contraption used to purposefully navigate time. H.G. Wells is also the father of science fiction. Have you read it?’
I shook my head. I didn’t tell him that most of my reading, if any, is chick-lit.
Then he reached in front of me to grab the book. Or I assumed that was what he was doing. I was too distracted by the closeness and how his collar gaped. He smelled good, like fresh linen and something else. Crisp. Then my vision was blocked by a worn paperback book. The Time Machine the cover said.
Sheldon was holding it out to me. ‘I understand it’s the accepted convention within the friendship paradigm to supply various items in ones possession on a temporary basis.’
When I first met him and Leonard, I would not have gotten this. But through the years of knowing them I’ve sort of gotten used to their lingo. Okay and I invested in a dictionary but I was able to use context clues (Mrs. Wells, my second grade teacher would be proud) most of the time. It just took me a while to get that he was lending the book to me. I was still a bit put off by his proximity to think about anything. So I just said, ‘Thanks’ and took the book.
In the car, I finally snapped. I’d just looked over at him and forgot to look at the road. At that point I asked him to please button up his shirt and tighten his tie. If he made the connection, he probably didn’t know the reason. But he actually apologized and did as asked. Watching him do these things was almost as dangerous. Fortunately that little kid ran quite fast across the street.
When we got to my apartment, he easily followed me in, carrying his laptop with him. He apparently had time to bring up a three-hundred-and-sixty-two question questionnaire for me to fill out, to test both my IQ (great) in different areas and gauge my personality traits. He said the online dating profile he’d filled out was what he based his original profile of me on, but he understood people changed so he wanted a more updated version. At least that’s what I thought he said. There were a lot of 4-syllabled words. He was buttoned up and being his neurotic self, so it was easier to focus. I was disturbed that I still had to make an effort, though.
Chapter 17
Rating: PG
Word Count: Over 44,000 in all
Disclaimer: I own nothing you recognize except California. That I rule.
Spoilers: Up to the Maternal Congruence
Summary: Because of Penny's father, Penny finds herself hiding in the laundry room while Sheldon constructs a dating formula and Leonard performs human experiments.
Author's Note: In this fic, Bernadette and Howard are broken up. I originally had a subplot that revolved around their break-up and make-up. However, I couldn't really work it in without disrupting the flow. I MAY write it as a companion piece but as of now, consider this fic AU in that respect.
(This fic was beta'd by the charming talkingmetaphor without whom I would still have the shoddy grammar that comes from writing while an insomniac)
Thanks everyone for your comments/criticism!
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
16
Penny
‘I’m here,’ I said into the phone.
‘Penny,’ scolded Sheldon’s voice and his sharp intake of breath signaled a long speech. I set the phone down so I could navigate the parking lot with both hands. It seemed like every single person walking around was so full of smarts they couldn’t bother to pay attention to the red sedan that just nearly knocked them over. When I crooked the phone back into my ear, Sheldon was still talking. ‘. . . greeting, not address your location or the subject of your calling. Furthermore--’
I cut him off. ‘Yeah, yeah, whatever. Listen, are you standing out here anywhere? I can’t see you.’ I peered at the eclectic groups of scientists. I’d figured all smart people dressed similarly. Meaning, like Sheldon and Leonard. Maybe like Raj. But then again, nobody else dressed like the fifth Beatle. It was so diverse I instantly thought of high school.
‘No I am still in my office.’
‘Well how much longer are you going to be?’
There was some muffled sounds of paper shuffling and he said, ‘Fifteen minutes, eighteen seconds. Seventeen. Sixteen.’
‘Sheldon,’ I practically whined. ‘It’s hot out here.’ Last week my air conditioning crapped out and I hadn’t had any money to fix it. Californian weather is said to be very moderate and that is true… when you get closer to the ocean, where the wind blows cold off the water. Further in, you get heat waves just like anybody else. Pasadena, unfortunately, was a good drive from the ocean.
A gust of static. ‘So long as you aren’t distractive, you may park and wait in my office.’
‘But Leonard . . .’
‘He works in a different building. Parking is assigned over here, but you may park in my spot. Assuming you are at the proper building, it is on the north-west side, against the building, near a rather formidable bush.’
‘I . . .’ I tried, driving slowly to look at the signs at the head of each parking space.
‘Take the nearest door and go straight in sixteen and a half feet. Turn right down the hallway. You’ll find yourself in a break room. The door farthest from you will lead you to hallway B. My office is on the right. Goodbye.’ Then he hung up.
I’d barely gotten any of that, on account of not wanting to commit vehicular homicide today. I was so busy trying to remember what he’d said that I’d passed Sheldon’s spot before I noticed it. Doubling back, I pulled in, wondering how someone with no car could get such an amazing spot. I walked through the set of double-doors, the blast of AC was orgasmic. Okay, he’d said to go straight . . . I found a hallway and walked down there. Forever. I was just worried I’d gone the wrong way when I walked past a set of doors that lead into a cafeteria area. A few people were seated at tables, none of them familiar looking fortunately. Not only did the employees remind me of students, the building reminded me of the hallways of Central High. Sure, yeah I knew Cal-tech was a school but I’d expected it to be more . . . I don’t know, collegiate. These people were all geniuses . . . I don’t know.
I’d forgotten the directions from there, but remembered Hallway B. However, these weren’t labeled. Finally, I did spot someone familiar, if only vaguely. ‘Uh, hey,’ I called out, having forgotten his name.
The man immediately turned and waited for me to catch up. His eyes leered at me. ‘Hewwo again,’ he greeted.
His dirty look and the dried sweat made me want a shower more than I’d wanted anything else. ‘Listen, um . . .’
‘Kwipky,’ he said, the smile never leaving his face. ‘Bawwy Kwipky. You’we Woxanne, wight?’
Oh, what the hell. ‘I’m a bit lost. Do you know where Sheldon’s office is?’
His expression immediately grew annoyed. ‘Coopah? Yeah, fowwow me.’ He pouted the entire way but fortunately, I’d only been a hallway off. When I saw a nameplate bearing Sheldon’s name, I honed in on it like it was home base. ‘Thank you,’ I said to Barry.
He nodded and stomped off.
I rapped three times on the door and, because I thought it might be amusing (to me), I said, ‘Sheldon,’ and rapped three more times. I repeated the process twice more before I heard his voice say, ‘Come in.’
Behind a large desk, Sheldon was hunched over papers, scribbling with mechanical ease. He looked up when I entered with a slight, required smile. ‘Oh, hello, Penny. Have a seat.’ He gestured with his pen toward the chair in front of his desk and I obeyed willingly. His office, much like his apartment, was kept very cool and I reclined back, soaking it in, letting it take me further away from heat stroke.
Sheldon immediately fell back into his work, blocking me out. I tried looking around but there wasn’t anything interesting to see. The whiteboards had the same mumbo-jumbo on them as his ones at home, and the book cases contained large volumes of things, some which seemed to be titled in Greek. ‘So,’ I tried, ‘this stuff is cool. You know, your work and . . . office.’
‘Penny.’ It was all he said and gave me a meaningful look. For the first time, I really noticed his eyes. Sheldon looked for the entire world like he truly held the universe’s secrets behind those baby blues. ‘You have really pretty eyes,’ I said.
He rolled them and glared at me.
Of course, it’s impossible to compliment Sheldon. ‘Sorry, I’ll shut up.’ I wasn’t sure why I even bothered.
Now, instead of looking for something to entertain me, I studied Sheldon. Along with the eyes, other features came into focus. For instance, his hair seemed to be slightly mussed, as if he’d been gripping handfuls of it in frustration. He was wearing an off-white pinstriped shirt that was open at the top two buttons. His blue tie was loosened. What was most surprising was he had a bit of a five o’clock shadow showing. Somehow I’d assumed his face was always so clean-shaven because he hadn’t the need to shave. He was so particular about his looks and hygiene and I’d assumed nothing would come between him and his health. But as he wrote away, so sure in his work, so… at ease with it all, I knew his job could very well do that.
I remembered the girl, Ramona and my shock when she’d called Sheldon cute. It wasn’t that I ever thought he was ugly or anything; he just didn’t fit my definition of someone . . . attractive. I guess I hadn’t seen him as possible for a romantic interest. Now, I wondered if she’d just seen what I had yet to see. Had she come into his office and caught him putting his brilliance to work? Not spouting off facts or babbling about physics, or even scheming with the others. No, just sitting, in his own bubble, doing brilliant things. Had he looked unkempt as he did before me? Because I could see it, see how he could be attractive. It wasn’t how I usually labeled guys as attractive. I mean, they had strong jaws, nice tans, a muscular back and mischievous grin. But something about Sheldon’s confidence, the ease he wrote with . . . how he wasn’t being neurotic or complaining . . . I still didn’t agree with Ramona’s assessment of calling him ‘cute’. I’d rather go for sexy.
Shouldn’t I feel dirty thinking that? I wondered. The office, actually a decent space, seemed too small and far, far too warm. I wanted Sheldon to hurry up and finish so I could be reassured in his craziness. The sick part of me couldn’t look away and wished he’d stay this version of himself. Apparently it had been far too long since I’d last had sex. At that thought, I suddenly imagined a whiplash of events. The feel of Sheldon’s soft shirt as I tiptoed out of his bedroom, how warm his body had been as I’d pressed against him. His hands frozen on my right breast, not kneading or groping or rubbing: just sitting there innocently. At least it had felt innocent at the time, now it felt anything but. I remembered the feel of his long fingers grazing my thighs as he’d pulled my shorts up. It must have been there when he looked at my courage tattoo. Had he touched it, too? I couldn’t remember and it was getting increasingly important that I know.
I was on my feet so fast the chair wobbled from the sudden loss of weight. I stood by the bookshelf behind the door, as far from Sheldon as I could get. I could feel Sheldon watching me curiously but I pointedly didn’t look at him. Instead I spent the rest of the time studying the books there with such intensity I wouldn’t have been surprised if one started to slide out toward me.
‘Whenever you’re done, I’m ready to leave.’
I jerked and whipped my head up. Sheldon stood next to me, far too close. But his interest was on the bookshelf, not me.
I gestured lamely to a book. ‘I, uh, was just interested by um . . .’ I picked a title at random. ‘The Time Machine by H.G. Wells. I love time-travel stories.’ At least, I did when they included romance and/or the Victorian Era.
‘Oh, it’s a fascinating story. Herbert Wells is often credited for the popularization of time-travel stories. That much is debatable but it’s incontrovertible that he invented the very term time machine and the idea of a contraption used to purposefully navigate time. H.G. Wells is also the father of science fiction. Have you read it?’
I shook my head. I didn’t tell him that most of my reading, if any, is chick-lit.
Then he reached in front of me to grab the book. Or I assumed that was what he was doing. I was too distracted by the closeness and how his collar gaped. He smelled good, like fresh linen and something else. Crisp. Then my vision was blocked by a worn paperback book. The Time Machine the cover said.
Sheldon was holding it out to me. ‘I understand it’s the accepted convention within the friendship paradigm to supply various items in ones possession on a temporary basis.’
When I first met him and Leonard, I would not have gotten this. But through the years of knowing them I’ve sort of gotten used to their lingo. Okay and I invested in a dictionary but I was able to use context clues (Mrs. Wells, my second grade teacher would be proud) most of the time. It just took me a while to get that he was lending the book to me. I was still a bit put off by his proximity to think about anything. So I just said, ‘Thanks’ and took the book.
In the car, I finally snapped. I’d just looked over at him and forgot to look at the road. At that point I asked him to please button up his shirt and tighten his tie. If he made the connection, he probably didn’t know the reason. But he actually apologized and did as asked. Watching him do these things was almost as dangerous. Fortunately that little kid ran quite fast across the street.
When we got to my apartment, he easily followed me in, carrying his laptop with him. He apparently had time to bring up a three-hundred-and-sixty-two question questionnaire for me to fill out, to test both my IQ (great) in different areas and gauge my personality traits. He said the online dating profile he’d filled out was what he based his original profile of me on, but he understood people changed so he wanted a more updated version. At least that’s what I thought he said. There were a lot of 4-syllabled words. He was buttoned up and being his neurotic self, so it was easier to focus. I was disturbed that I still had to make an effort, though.
Chapter 17