Role Reversal

Summary: Sheldon posed the concept of there being many universes, in all of which, he existed in some capacity. But I don't think he considered this one….

Dr. Penelope Taylor blew a stray strand of her godforsaken blonde hair out of her eyes, pushed her glasses up her nose and stared angrily at the door leading to 4B.

Loud bangs, muffled shouts and the miscellaneous curse word had infiltrated her apartment some hours ago. She was thisclose to a break through and she couldn't concentrate on her whiteboard for more than 30 seconds without hearing some vile noise related interruption.

She stormed across the hall, arms crossed in front of her. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and raised her hand.

Knock Knock Knock "Sheldon!"

Knock Knock Knock "Sheldon!"

Knock Knock Knock "Sheldon!"

She heard a break in the noise, followed by footsteps. A moment later, the door swung open and there stood the chief offender.

Sheldon Cooper, or "Coop" as he was known to his friends, well over 6' tall. His long legs were encased in dark denim, and a black hoodie screaming out the word "Misfit" covered his top half.

He observed the small woman standing before him, seething with anger.

She wore a bright green T-shirt with Hello Kitty emblazoned across the front and some hideous part of tweed slacks. Her chunky glasses were sliding off her face and her blonde hair was pulled back In a tight pony tail.

"What's up?" He asked, leaning against the door frame. He'd just had a crazy long day at Cheesecake Factory, where he bartended on weekends, along with his friends, Len, Raj and Howie.

The aforementioned counterparts joined their tall friend at the door, making Dr. Taylor feel incredibly anxious.

"I didn't want to have to come over here and mention this yet again, but Section 4, Paragraph 3 of our lease clearly indicates that noise levels are to be substantially reduced after 9 pm. It is no w 9:05. I am perilously close to a break through and in order to focus my thought process I'm going to need you to move your game playing to Tuesday nights." She informed them, crossing her arms over her chest.

Howie poked his head out. "Oh yeah, is Tuesday your girls night out? You and friends go out and get all drunk and slutty?!" He questioned, leering suggestively at the young woman.

She was used to his come-ons at this point. She'd been eating at the Cheesecake Factory on Thursdays for as long as she could remember and since she was unwilling to change tables, Howie was always her waiter.

She rolled her eyes. "No, Tuesday night is when my sewing club meets. This week we're sewing aprons." She announced smugly, as though they were jealous of her big sewing plans.

"Yeah, well sounds exciting. Tuesdays aren't good for us. I work late and Len closes, he got promoted to assistant manager." Coop retorted, jerking his head in the direction of his khaki clad friend.

"Congratulations on accomplishing the status of mediocre." She told him. It would have been funny if she had been being sarcastic, but according to her, "Sarcasm is a way of saying how you really feel whilst sounding as though you're joking, it's pathetic."

"So, what does that make us then??" Raj whispered to Howie. Even though he knew she was nothing special, she was still a woman….

She picked up on his stage whisper. "It makes you all a waste of energy, space, and matter." She shot back.

"Listen here DOCTOR TAYLOR, we have lives, we have things going on, we aren't going to change it all up so you can concentrate on your little drawing board. Maybe you should think about rearranging your "life" instead." Coop suggested, arching an eyebrow at the blonde before slamming the door in her face, causing her to jump a bit.

She raised her hand to knock again, but dropped it, defeated. She was tired of having this fight every night.

She dragged herself back across the hall where she could lick her wounds in private. After surveying her immaculate apartment, she plopped down in her spot, feeling more than a little frustrated.

After sitting through half of a 'Dr. Who' repeat, she decided a shower would help sooth her anger. She padded to the bathroom, turned on the taps and proceeded to submerge herself in the steamy waters.

Coop couldn't help it. He felt bad. He'd treated her coldly. After about 45 minutes of berating himself, he decided to fix the situation. He owed her an apology. He waited til his friends left and until Len had retreated to his room. He unfolded his lanky frame from the couch and headed next door.

The good doctor was fresh out of the shower and wrapped in a fluffy robe, her still wet blonde hair clinging to her neck and face. She had just smoothed on her face cream and lotion when someone knocked at the door.

She glanced at her Hello Kitty clock. It was nearly midnight. It could only be one person.

Sighing heavily, she headed to the door, not even bothering to grab her glasses. She swung it open and stood there, hand her on hip, starting pointedly at her now speechless neighbor.

"Yes Sheldon? " She questioned, raising her eyebrows.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I came over here for a reason, but I can't remember now…." He trailed off, his eyes traveling up and down her slightly damp, towel covered body.

She leaned provocatively against the door and….

"BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPP!!" Screamed Sheldon's alarm.

Sheldon vaulted into the sitting position instantaneously, his eyes wide with shock and confusion.

A moment later, a hand settled across his hips.

"Too early moonpie, back to sleep." His sleeping girlfriend muttered.

He glanced over at her. She was facing him, her eyes closed, her blonde hair messy from sleeping.

"Penny, have you ever owned a white board?" He questioned as he allowed himself to be pulled back down.

"Sheldon, for the millionth time, it's just a dream. In no universe will I ever be the smart one!" She exclaimed sleepily before turning over.

Sheldon nodded to himself and closed his eyes once again, allowing the feeling of sleepiness to overcome him.

Right before he drifted off entirely, he could have sworn he heard Penny whisper "Section 4, Paragraph 3" in her unconscious state.

"Just a dream… Just a dream…."