Title: Moments

Disclaimer: I do not own TBBT or its characters and I make no profit from this. It's just for fun.

Spoilers: None

Pairing: Sheldon/Penny

Summary: In the beginning, small moments in their lives don't seem to mean much...until Penny realizes, when viewed all together, they point toward an inevitable conclusion.

Not only do those moments mean everything—they'll build the foundation to last a lifetime.

Author's note: I truly had no intention of writing another BBT story but this came to me and I decided to share it. Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed my last BBT story because it gave me the confidence to post this one. I hope those who read this enjoy it as much I enjoyed writing it.

[Edited & updated 7/7/24]

XXXXXX

It starts slowly and without any warning (as these things often do). Penny finds herself in Leonard and Sheldon's kitchen one morning, scouring their refrigerator for something to eat, because she has nothing remotely edible in her apartment, and she's starving.

It's not that she forgot to go shopping, it's that after paying all the bills this month, she has literally $2.27 left over to last her three days until her next paycheck.

So she kind of has to get food from her neighbors. Either that or steal from work. It's embarrassing, but she'll never admit it, and she knows her friends would never turn her away (well, Sheldon might try, but he'd be overruled by Leonard if it came to that).

Besides, as she usually does when she's in this situation, she plans to avoid suspicion by cooking breakfast for the three of them. Then she has a legitimate reason to help herself, because it'd be rude to refuse a plate to the person who went to the trouble of cooking, right?

It's worked for nearly two years, at any rate.

As she's searching through the fridge, debating whether to make scrambled eggs and bacon, or French toast (or maybe all of it…she's really hungry this morning), Sheldon shuffles into the kitchen.

They've been in this exact situation before. Generally, he lectures her on 'breaking into' their apartment. (No matter how many times she reminds him that Leonard gave her a key, that clarification is usually lost on Sheldon—or maybe he just doesn't care, which is more likely.)

Instead of launching into a speech about how she is (in his eyes) a scant two escalating crimes away from appearing on America's Most Wanted, he merely stands behind her, surveying the contents of the fridge over her shoulder.

Then—the unthinkable—he places a hand on her shoulder to balance himself as he leans slightly around her to grab the milk. As if that weren't odd enough, he then repeats the motion in order to grab a box of cereal from the top of the fridge, before moving away to get a bowl from the cabinet.

Penny's certain she hasn't breathed during the entire 10 second ordeal, letting the fridge door shut as she turns to face him.

Sheldon is mixing cereal and milk in perfect proportions while she watches him in silent contemplation. What just happened? To the average person, it would seem minor, a completely normal interaction that wasn't even worth noticing, let alone commenting on.

But Sheldon has never been any version of 'normal' and Penny won't simply forget it.

"What was that?" Her question is sharper than she intends, watching him grab a spoon from the drawer.

Sheldon isn't looking at her. "To what are you referring?"

She's momentarily distracted. "Why are you getting cereal when you know I'm here to cook breakfast?"

"Penny." He gives a sigh one could only attribute to the long-suffering. "Whenever you cook for us, there is a 90% probability you'll burn whatever you attempt to make. Since you have long refused my help in preparing edible food, I'm forced to resort to other measures." He holds up the bowl of cereal as evidence and goes to sit on the couch.

She shakes her head, reminding herself that his like or dislike of the food she makes isn't what she's questioning. "I meant two minutes ago, when you reached to get the milk and cereal. You touched me! What was that about?"

He drops his spoon into the bowl and glances over at her, a look of total confusion on his face. "I don't know what you're talking about. I remember no such event."

Either he's suffering from short-term amnesia, he's been possessed, or she's overreacting to something that's completely meaningless. She decides on the last explanation, simply because she can't imagine Sheldon Cooper allowing himself to succumb to amnesia or possession—either by aliens or demons. They'd be in his body for 10 seconds before fleeing in terror at his normal thought processes.

"Alright…" she says suspiciously, deciding to let it go.

The incident has thrown her so much that she's about to leave, her hand on the doorknob, when Sheldon stops her. "Aren't you going to eat breakfast?"

"Well…" she stops, embarrassed, and tries to cover. "You're already eating cereal so there's no need for me to cook."

Sheldon takes a moment to respond. "Leonard hasn't eaten yet and I think I heard him rising. For God knows what reason, he loves your French toast, dreadful as it is. I'm sure he'd be disappointed if I told him you were here and didn't make it."

Penny bites her lip before giving in and returning to the kitchen, pulling out the ingredients for French toast.

What Sheldon said isn't a lie, but he certainly worked hard to come up with a reason for her to stay, and for him…it's close enough to a lie to give her pause. She won't question it because she's grateful (and seriously hungry), and besides that, he's being tactful for once.

He's normally never this way, but Penny swears that sometimes… When it comes to her…

She meets his eyes a few minutes later as she's cracking eggs, smiling widely at him in her version of 'thanks'. His smile back to her is so brief that she could almost convince herself she imagined it, if she wanted to.

But she doesn't want to.

Penny's able to completely forget that morning for about two weeks, but then something else happens out of the ordinary.

She's at work on the night the guys come to The Cheesecake Factory for their usual dinner (though half the time she's convinced they only come to make her night all the more miserable—Sheldon, especially).

Case in point: Sheldon sends his meal back three times with different complaints. Penny's about to hand their table off to another co-worker in fury, but when he accepts the fourth plate she brings him with total courtesy, she refrains for only one reason—she needs this job.

Unfortunately, her boss Derek has noticed all the issues at one particular table, so he pulls her aside after she finally brings Sheldon a 'satisfactory' order. Derek berates her for a solid five minutes about the way she treats customers (who are always right) and reminds her that she's incredibly close to losing her job for failing to provide the superior service that he apparently believes The Cheesecake Factory is famous for.

The whole humiliating ordeal happens in an alcove that's not entirely hidden from all the customers—Penny can still see the guys' table, and most certainly everyone within 30 feet could hear Derek lecturing (and threatening) her.

Penny would normally defend herself, or yell back that he's obviously still pissed she turned him down for a date two weeks ago, but she's completely blindsided and near tears by the time Derek's done with her. Did she mention she needs this job?

When she returns to her friends' table, they all avoid her eyes uncomfortably, obviously having seen (and heard) her boss's scathing remarks. All except Sheldon, that is, who meets her eyes unflinchingly and deliberately thanks her for her wonderful service that evening.

His remark is what pushes her over the edge and she quickly goes off to refill their drinks before any of them can notice the tears in her eyes. It doesn't help that Sheldon is the one who got her in trouble in the first place—the fact that he's being so nice to her all of a sudden means she can't even get mad at him for his earlier actions (no matter how much she wants to).

When she comes back to the table, Sheldon is missing. As she gives them their drinks, she asks where he's gone, and Leonard looks away guiltily. Raj, as usual, mutely stares at her.

Howard is the one who speaks up. "He went to talk to your boss." He points across the room where Sheldon is, indeed, speaking to her boss.

Penny's certain, in that moment, that her employment is going to be terminated, so she might as well give up right now. She sits down in Sheldon's vacant seat and stares miserably at Leonard.

"Why didn't you stop him?" she asks, but it's without any passion. She already accepted her fate.

"You know how Sheldon is." Leonard glances nervously at Raj and Howard. "He wanted to…set some things straight."

Penny sighs helplessly, eating some of Sheldon's fries and sipping the soda she just brought for him. He would no doubt refuse to touch the rest of his meal if he knew how she contaminated his food, but she thinks he owes her. She's already spinning images of the future where she has no steady income. The money she earns from this job barely covers living expenses, so what's she going to do without it? Where else could she possibly work with little experience, and on such short notice?

She's deep in a well of self-pity by the time Sheldon returns. He watches her eating his food, but (miraculously, for him) refrains from commenting on it. "Penny, there's no need to thank me."

"For getting me fired? Gee, thanks, Sheldon." She stands up so he can sit down again, but she takes his soda with her and morosely sips it. He cost her a job—the least he can do is give her his $2 soda.

"What are you talking about?" Sheldon retakes his seat across from Leonard, but he never looks away from her. "I merely had a chat with your boss about your worth to this establishment."

"Huh?" she asks, quite ineloquently.

"Okay, perhaps 'worth' is the wrong word since any 15-year-old high school drop-out could perform the job that you do," Sheldon clarifies.

Penny's seriously thinking about pouring the rest of Sheldon's drink over his head when he starts talking again.

"Fortunately, Derek agreed with me—about your value, that is—when I gave him a list of the six health code violations I found at this establishment in the dining area alone. Leonard, why do we still eat here?"

Penny stares at him in confusion while she tries to process what he's saying. Did he just save her job by threatening to report the restaurant for code violations?

Sheldon reaches over to take his drink from her hand. "You're welcome, Penny."

That, she realizes, is exactly what he did.

She smiles broadly at him. "Sheldon, your meal is on the house. I'm sure Derek will approve." She glances across the room at her boss, who had been glaring at her, but he abruptly returns to the kitchen when she looks his way.

Raj grudgingly hands Sheldon a $20 bill, Howard snickers, and Leonard shakes his head in reluctant admiration.

"I truly thought you had no way of getting a free dinner from Penny tonight," Leonard's saying to Sheldon. "I underestimated you."

"As usual," Sheldon says smugly, surprising everyone at the table when he turns back to Penny and holds out the $20 bill. "Your tip tonight, courtesy of Koothrappali."

That $20 is a lot more than 20% of their bill (especially after Sheldon's comped meal) and Penny swallows when she takes it from him, whispering her thanks.

Sheldon lifts his drink slightly towards her, taking a sip when she smiles, and even though she knows she should, Penny doesn't care in the slightest that they bet on her.

She's suddenly really glad she has friends who like to visit her at work.

It's around 7pm on Sunday, barely a week later, when Penny heads over to Leonard and Sheldon's apartment. She finally has an evening off after working the three most hectic nights in a row—Thursday, Friday, and Saturday—so all she wants to do is relax.

Why she chooses Leonard and Sheldon's apartment to relax in is something she doesn't think twice about. At some point over the past year, hanging out in their free time became their usual thing. (Among their friend group, they don't even ask each other anymore, they just…do it.)

Penny brings over two romantic comedies she'd been wanting to see for a while, but when she crosses the threshold of their apartment, she catches Leonard putting Star Trek—the 2009 movie version—into the Blu-ray player.

"Honestly, Leonard, we've seen that at least two dozen times," she groans, falling onto the sofa between Howard and Raj. She can quote every line of dialogue in that movie by now—for every single character.

"But it's awesome!" he protests (with way too much excitement for a movie they've seen that many times).

Sheldon walks over with a large bowl of popcorn and a stack of smaller, empty bowls, setting everything on the coffee table. He doesn't have to do anything but give Raj a meaningful look to get him scrambling out of his preferred spot on the couch. Raj collapses onto the floor in front of Howard while Sheldon reclaims his spot on the couch, right next to Penny, and turns to her.

"Penny, are you trying to say that the newest theatrical version of Star Trek—though wrought with its fair share of problematic plot twists—is not worth watching?"

Penny sighs at Sheldon's question. She knows nothing she could say would detract from their enjoyment of the film, or convince them not to watch it. She tries anyway.

"I'm just saying you've all seen this movie enough that it's imprinted on your brains!" She waves her movies at them while everyone helps themselves to the popcorn. "Why not try something new?"

Sheldon nearly chokes on his popcorn when he laughs. "Penny, please," he scoffs, "we're interested in real movies, not the latest Jennifer Aniston or Katherine Heigl excuse for a 'movie' which is nothing more than treacly romance alongside zero plot or character development."

"Hey," Raj protests, liberally sipping from his third beer of the evening, "I really enjoyed 27 Dresses. Just when you think Katherine is going to remain a bridesmaid forever, she finds her true love…"

They all stare at him, but he gives them a look as if daring them to challenge him. Sheldon, of course, is the one who takes him up on it.

"This is why you lost your privilege to have a vote in what movies we watch," he admonishes Raj. "I refuse to be subjected to the horrors of What Happens in Vegas." He shudders, as if for effect, but Penny can't help laughing at the revulsion written all over his face.

"Come on, Sheldon," she cajoles, "leave your comfort zone of deep space to experience the earthly pleasures of No Reservations."

He actually recoils when she shoves one of the movies she brought at him, but she doesn't care, because his reaction is too hilarious.

"Penny, I would rather jump off our roof than watch that excuse for a—a—movie!" He says the word as if her choices don't have enough merit to qualify as 'movies' in Sheldon Cooper's mind. (And they probably don't.)

"Fine," she concedes dramatically, though she knew the moment she crossed the hall that she'd have no choice about her evening's entertainment—it had something to do with space 97% of the time. "I'll watch Star Trek, yet again."

A half hour later, Penny's struggling to keep her eyes open. She's not bored (despite her complaints, she secretly enjoys the latest Star Trek movie because the actors are hot, okay?) but she's exhausted. She's been picking up extra shifts to earn more money, but the grind of working late hours night after night is taking its toll.

She starts leaning more and more to her left, until finally she gives in and rests her head on Sheldon's shoulder. For the first 30 seconds or so, she holds her breath, anticipating him sharply admonishing her, getting up as an excuse to escape, or even pushing her away.

However, much to her amazement, Sheldon Cooper does none of those things. He seems far too wrapped up in Kirk's latest predicament to even acknowledge that she's touching him. When he just keeps watching the movie, doing absolutely nothing to discourage her, Penny lets herself relax into their new position. She manages to stay awake for another half hour, enjoying the warmth of Sheldon right next to her, before she drifts off to sleep.

Several hours later, she wakes up to find Sheldon draping a blanket over her on the couch. The rest of the apartment is quiet and dark, with no one else in sight. It appears she slept through everyone else leaving, and Leonard going off to bed.

Penny stares up at Sheldon, confused.

"I didn't want to wake you," Sheldon says softly, shifting from one foot to the other. "I thought you'd be comfortable sleeping here." From his uncertainty, it seems like he expects her to jump off the couch, or maybe start yelling at him about something or other.

Instead, Penny pulls the blanket up further, settling more comfortably into the couch—and for some reason, she reaches out to take hold of his hand.

He says nothing, only watching when she holds onto him for a minute. Even more surprising, he makes no move to let go until she does.

"Thanks, Sheldon," she whispers.

"Goodnight, Penny," he says succinctly, and he's about to leave when she reaches out again to stop him. Her fingers barely brush his arm, but he pauses and turns back to her, questioning.

She doesn't speak, and as she guessed, he feels compelled to fill the silence.

"Leonard wanted to watch War of the Worlds—the 1953 adaptation," he tells her, "but I knew you would hate it. I told them we had to watch Star Trek instead."

"For me," she whispers, and it's not a question.

"You claim not to enjoy it every time we watch it, but I see the way you smile through the whole movie. You love it. That's why I considered it an acceptable choice for movie night, and one which would make everyone happy."

She blinks at his thoughtfulness, thinking about all the ways he keeps surprising her, even after years of knowing him. Something warm washes over her and she feels incredibly grateful to him, probably much more than she should for a simple movie choice, but it made her feel a lot better after a ridiculously long week—even if she did fall asleep an hour into it.

Or maybe it's his consideration, and not the movie itself, that's making her feel this way.

She doesn't dwell on it too much longer, since she doesn't stay awake very long after Sheldon returns to his room.

If she falls asleep clutching the blanket he gave her (wondering if it's her imagination that it smells like him) no one has to know.

It takes at least another month for Penny to put it all together, because at first she doesn't know quite what to make of everything (as it turns out, she has an incredible knack for explaining things away).

For example, every time Sheldon touches her, it could be absent-minded or accidental.

The time he threatened her boss might have been more about his bet with Raj than any concern for her continued job security.

And when he convinces the others to do things that would make her happy, such as rewatching Star Trek instead of some 50's sci-fi flick, it could be more about Sheldon's preferences than her own. (It would be like him to try and insist he did it for her just to cover for the fact that he wanted to watch it himself—or more likely, that he wanted to keep the others from watching their choice of movie instead of his preference.)

But as the weeks pass, and instances similar to the previous ones keep happening, Penny begins to truly question what's going on.

The only conclusion she comes to floors her so much that at first she disregards it for its sheer improbability. Because her initial conclusion is that Sheldon might feel some sort of…affection for her.

It's completely absurd, and so laughable that she goes back to reconsider all the evidence that had caused her to draw such a conclusion.

She even comes up with a list for God's sake! As it turns out, that's her ultimate undoing—seeing as she'd drawn the list on Leonard's whiteboard in Leonard and Sheldon's apartment. In her defense, though, the boys had been away at some day-long conference (the name of which she didn't remember on purpose because it was so convoluted and she didn't know what most of the words meant, anyhow).

How was she to know they'd be back by 8 o'clock? That they would walk in right after she'd written, on the board (under her 'evidence'):

Possible conclusions:

1) Sheldon is playing the prank of the century on me

2) Sheldon has been possessed by some supernatural force

3) Sheldon is in love with me

When she hears the front door opening, she whirls around to find Leonard, Howard, Raj, and Sheldon, all of them watching her with equal parts curiosity and fascination. She lunges to grab the eraser and get rid of all the evidence—except in her haste, she drops it and has to dive to the floor to retrieve it, so by the time she gets up again, they've read everything.

It wouldn't help anything to erase it by that point. Except maybe to try and salvage her pride…though she'd likely lost that some time ago (probably long before the guys came home). So her only option, really, is to flee the apartment, in abject humiliation, without saying a single word.

Penny spends exactly 17 minutes wallowing on her couch and thinking of all the ways she just ruined everything. Not only with Sheldon, but all of them. Because now they probably think she's in love with him. They'll never act the same around her again.

When Sheldon knocks on her door, she considers not answering. She's never been brave about things like this—feelings and emotions and…oh God, maybe she is in love with Sheldon. (What the actual hell?!)

After five sets of his knocking, she can't take it anymore and answers her door with the utmost reluctance.

"What do you want?" she demands, hiding her embarrassment with irritation.

Honestly, she doesn't know what she expected. Maybe an apology from him for unknowingly playing with her emotions. Or an admonition, on Leonard's behalf, for erasing the formulas he'd had on his whiteboard (as if she cared about the effect of gravity on the planets). Or maybe a question, asked in complete obliviousness, about why she'd rushed out of their apartment without any explanation whatsoever.

Whatever she expected when she answered the door, it definitely wasn't for Sheldon to stare at her intensely before sweeping forward and pulling her into a kiss that literally takes her breath away—so much, in fact, that after a very long, very enjoyable moment, she has to push him back just so she can breathe again.

"Sheldon—what?" she sort of gasps, meeting his eyes and wondering what the hell's going on.

"Penny," he answers, and she hates the way he sounds completely normal, despite the breathtaking kiss they just shared. "I saw your attempt at problem-solving on Leonard's whiteboard—and I must say even your incoherent thoughts were an improvement over his worthless calculations on interplanetary gravity—but still, I feel compelled to inform you that your last hypothesis was not incorrect."

Penny stares up at him, holding her hand to his chest to keep their distance while she processes what he's telling her. "Sheldon, my last hypothesis was that…you're in love with me."

He doesn't even blink. "Did I not just say that your last hypothesis was not incorrect?"

She wants to cry, because that's the kind of emotional being she is—unlike him. Sheldon. Her Sheldon.

Her Sheldon. She wants to say she never thought of him that way, except once she admits it, she realizes she has pretty much always thought of him that way.

"Shel-" she starts to say, but he cuts her off by kissing her again, and God help her, she lets herself seriously kiss him back this time. Because that conclusion she'd drawn about him possibly being in love with her? She hadn't put the reason why she even considered that option in the first place—which is that she's in love with him.

No questions, no maybes. It's a truth she'd been blind to for quite some time, but now that she's admitting it to herself, she's shocked she never saw it before.

Penny couldn't explain exactly how she fell in love, but if she had to try, she'd name a few dozen moments. Those brief snippets in time that didn't individually amount to much, but when viewed all together, painted the picture of a man who deeply cared for her—and had for a long time.

She might have even drawn the conclusion that he loved her (and that was before he'd pretty much admitted it by kissing her senseless in the doorway to her apartment).

"Penny," he says quietly, when they break apart again, "am I to conclude from your enthusiastic reaction that you have feelings for me which match mine for you?"

She laughs, yet again, and wonders when her life had taken such an unexpected turn—but she doesn't care in the least. Instead of answering his question, she asks, "Sheldon, do you love me?"

"I thought we already established that." He sounds confused. "Was I unclear in the way I informed you of my—" He doesn't get to finish because Penny surges forward to kiss him again.

She finally lets him say it, without interrupting him, several hours later. And to hear that he loves her, in his own voice, his own words… It's as wonderful as she imagined. (From that point on, she never gets tired of hearing him say it—or of saying it to him.)

When Penny first moved into her apartment, she never would have dreamed that a series of small yet meaningful moments would lead to her falling in love with her neighbor across the hall. (But the lifetime of happy memories they share, from that day forward, makes her forever grateful that they did.)