Work Text:
The Romance Resonance Redux
Not for the first time, Penny was worried about Sheldon.
Over the years, taking care of the great Dr Cooper had become something of a habit, be it protecting him from bullies, singing to him when he was sick, or offering him emotional guidance (whether the ungrateful Whack-a-doodle knew he needed it or not).
Leonard didn't seem that concerned, but Sheldon was so caught up in whatever crazy science stuff was currently running round his noggin, he was genuinely oblivious to his surroundings. And for someone who already had the survival instincts of a lemming, this was bad news.
So when he didn't stop outside the door to 4A and carried on up the next flight of stairs, Leonard's joking remark that he'd figure it out when he fell off the roof, hit a little too close to home.
Penny pursed her lips in frowning concern and then did what she always seemed to end up doing: went after him.
She only just got there in time, emerging through the outer door just as Sheldon, nose firmly buried in book, walked straight towards the low-enough-to-be-fatal wall.
"Sheldon! Look out!" she shrieked.
Sheldon stopped walking and briefly looked up: "Can't talk, Penny: in the zone!" His tone was dismissive and his gaze returned to his book as he changed direction.
A relief so strong it was almost nauseating swept over her. Penny clutched at her stomach, breathing through it, until she could talk again. "Sheldon, honey, I know you're into your work, but you have got to be more careful!"
This time Sheldon didn't even look up, but levelled an admonishing finger as he halted in the middle of the roof.
"Zone!"
Penny scowled at him, relief at the averted crisis rapidly giving way to anger. There she was practically dying of a heart attack, and he wouldn't even look up! Her eyes narrowed. How dare he ignore her?
All of a sudden she was determined to snap him out of his fugue.
She tilted her head, considering... and flashed back to what had come to be known as Battle of the Sexes – AKA Sheldon has his ass handed to him – night. She recalled the surprised, wondering look that had crept over his face when she'd pinned him to the ground and kissed his nose in victory.
A mischievous impulse seized her. Walking forward to where he stood, she cupped her hands around his face and stretched up on her tiptoes... just as Sheldon's head tilted up in frowning thought.
Their lips met; a shock of tingling feeling ran down her spine.
She jerked away from him as the tingling spread through her body and her stomach tried to loop the loop. Almost scared to look. she raised her eyes to his face, expecting horror, revulsion and incoming grade-A lecture on germs and irresponsibility.
Sheldon still hadn't looked up from his book.
Not sure whether to be relieved or incensed, Penny turned on her heel and fled down the stairs.
So she wasn't there to see Sheldon pry his hands free from the white-knuckled death-grip they had formed around the pages.
Sheldon's rigidly regulated, run-to-order body was in uproar, multiple organs lining up to announce anomalies.
Unaccountable moisture conglomerating on palms? Check.
Shallow respiration impacting pulmonary system? Check.
Sudden arrhythmic cardiac output? Check.
Let the angular gyrus compare physiological factors with physical surroundings and cross-reference with chronological events.
Even as his beautiful, better-than-everybody's brain assimilated all available data, it continued to stare at the page in front of it with shock-sharpened focus.
"Good grief!" he exclaimed, in mounting horror. "It's square centimetres, not square metres! This changes everything."
Then his oft-neglected amygdalae spoke up, dominating all other brain activity for the first time.
"Good grief!" he whispered, in dawning wonder. "Penny kissed me."
This changes everything.