A/N: So, here's the REWORKED chapter one of this fiction. I've deleted all the old chapters from the old story, so I hope my old alertists and whatnot get the news! Hooray! If you're familiar with the original, it's similar to the first version but has been updated to be slightly AU before the season 4 episode The Roommate Transmogrification. If you're a new reader, welcome and I hope you like it! Enjoy, and as always, please review and tell me what you think!
Always up for a laugh, she's a pain in the ass
Every time that we meet, I skip a
"Heartbeat," Scouting for Girls
The Gravitational Dynamism Revelation
Written by Amputation
Sheldon glowered for perhaps the hundredth time within the past half hour, shooting a crazed and twitchy glare at the door. It was bad enough that his food had gone cold, but the incessant thudding that came from his blonde ignoramus of a neighbor's apartment was slowly driving him insane. Ever since her—as Wolowitz put it—"messy" schism from Leonard, she had become more secluded, to say the least. Aside from her weekly "girls' nights" with both Amy Farrah-Fowler and Bernadette, Sheldon rarely saw her aside from rare occasions, like the Bathroom Emergency. Leonard had begun seeing Pria—their relationship being the reason he'd needed to see Penny during the Bathroom Emergency—and it was a relationship Sheldon found uninteresting, pointless, and annoying; just like the homunculus' field of work was.
Despite the loss of his roommate's company, he felt comfortable in the solace of his own companionship; unless one of his incredibly obtuse neighbors suddenly decided that playing ridiculous music far above reasonable decibel levels was socially acceptable. Sheldon felt the familiar tic around his left eye and the twitching of his upper lip as his face twisted into an expression of unadulterated irritation. This raucous disruption of his working time required instantaneous cessation!
Sheldon switched his XPS laptop into sleep mode and stood from his work desk, stalking like a predacious praying mantis to the door of his apartment. Heading across the hall, he paused in front of the door from which the loud sounds emanated. His eye persisted in its twitching and he felt the veins under his skin pulse dangerously as his ire continued to rise.
Her music is decibels above any socially acceptable level.
He knocked thrice in rapid succession, "Penny!" Repeat the tri-knock, "Penny!" Repeat again, "Penn—"
The door slowly swung inward, a soft creak releasing from the obviously un-oiled hinges and leaving Sheldon standing awkwardly with his fist in the air. The theoretical physicist scowled as his aggravation increased exponentially.
Really? Penny, you have—once again—frustrated me. Have I not often and repeatedly explained to you the simple, yet incredibly important social norm of locking one's own door?
Sheldon stuck his head into her apartment, a tirade spewing from between his lips before he even was aware he had one to begin with.
"Penny, you have left your apartment unsecured, and thus I am now present to explain that your music is far too—" Sheldon's eyes widened at the scene before him and his words died in his throat.
The "beautiful mind" of Dr. Sheldon Cooper, PhD was rendered into a state of shock as it was a purely visceral response to the signals his retinas were sending to his brain. The blonde woman was dancing around her apartment, completely unaware of his presence. Her wavy, golden hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, the shimmering strands going back and forth with each sway and grind her body performed. The motions sent shivers up his spine, causing him to look around for a drafty or open window for a logical explanation of his body's sudden reaction usually only brought about by a chill.
He was unsure of why he was unable to remove his gaze from her lascivious motions as her body convulsed in a way that seemed reminiscent of primal mating dances he had seen performed by other mammals on the National Geographic channel. It made his breath catch in his throat—he felt around his pockets for his emergency inhaler on instinct—the way her eyes closed gently and her lips parted so she could breathe through another orifice to provide better oxygen to her muscles. Sheldon's scientific mind soon became lost to the primal side that rarely was accessed. He continued to stare. She was sweating, indicative that her activities had been going on for some time. The time frame in which she participated in said activity was also signified by her accelerated inspiration and expiration rates and the glowing flush of her body.
Sheldon observed her attire and found himself surprised, although a bit red in the face. Was he feverish? He pressed the back of his hand to his forehead to check his temperature as he gazed at Penny. She wore a tight, faded blue t-shirt with the Superman symbol stretched over her substantial—and braless, he noted from her protruding nipples—bosom, matched with a pair of light cerulean undergarments with the symbol repeated on the front and the words "his woman" in all caps stretched across her gluteus maximus. Her feet were clad in white tube socks that were reminiscent of the style he wore.
He contemplated for a moment as to where and when she had obtained both the shirt and socks, referencing his mental calendar and the dates he knew Penny to have gone shopping before he realized he was staring at a full-grown, non-related, and socially-dictated-attractive female without her knowledge. Immediately, Sheldon panicked; his heart palpitating madly in his chest as he bolted from her apartment, shutting the door quietly and leaning against it.
Good lord! What has just transpired? Is that concupiscent combination of chaos and form what she calls dancing?
Sheldon forced himself to take deep breaths as he waited for his heart rate to drop back down to normal. He assumed his asthma was acting up when he struggled to breathe as he recalled her movements. She called such an act "dance?" Surely she didn't; waltz was dance, pure and organized … that was merely chaotic and without rhyme or reason! He ran a hand over his face, as though the motion could remove the images from his mind—which obviously was impossible, he told himself, as he had an eidetic memory.
Her perspiration was rather heightened, as was her breathing pattern, and more than likely her pulse as well … her shirt clung nicely to her boso—
Sheldon felt his heart rate increase and he shut his eyes tightly, focusing on another aspect.
—Superman? I for one never would have assumed she was a fan of the man of steel. And matching undergarments? When did she go out for clothing? She never did for that sort of thing, I would have known. She only went shoe shopping with Amy Farrah-Fowler and Bernadette as of late. Obviously, that shirt belonged to someone else as well as the socks. I did lose my extra small Superman shirt a while back, along with a few pairs of socks. …does she have my clothes? A woman has the nerve to be wearing my clothing?
Sheldon's eyes widened and he felt his heart race at the notion, suddenly feeling budding warmth in his stomach that was unfamiliar. He banished his thoughts.
Why? It potentially is exercise. Perhaps the primal nature of it—pheromones, perspiration, respiration—is what creates an image of venereal, coital activities. Dare I say it arouses erotic preconceptions?
Sheldon became more flustered, feeling warmer by the second as a fire seemed to be alit in his stomach while images of Penny dancing in her undergarments flooded his mind.
Why alone? For practice?
He groaned and dragged his hand down his face, skulking back to his own apartment, questions and curiosities flying around his head at a million miles a second. He shut the door more firmly than necessary, pressing his head against the wood in a feeble attempt to clear his mind. He settled down at his computer, fully intent on ignoring all the chaos swirling unchecked in his psyche. He remained seated for all of a minute before he stood and began pacing the floor like a man gone mad. The thoughts would not leave him alone, quite like when he had a lead on proving string theory. He turned, glaring at his whiteboard, actually contemplating on erasing his current work and writing down his emotional turmoil. He shook his head as though the motion could eliminate such an impulsive urge. As much as he was loath to admit it, he required female opinion. His gaze shot back to his laptop and he once again sat in his computer chair. He needed to request the assistance of Amy Farrah-Fowler via web chat.
"Sheldon, I didn't expect a call from you," she said, adjusting her thick-rimmed glasses on her nose.
"I apologize, Amy, but I unfortunately require your advice. You did not get 'cray-zay' last night, did you?" he raised an eyebrow.
"No, I did not, although I appreciate the menial inquiry that could imply small-talk …so, Sheldon, what subject did you need advice on?"
"I have experienced some strange symptoms recently …"
She bent away from the laptop, revealing the poster behind her of a brain with all the parts labeled. He blinked, studying it for a moment until his friend reappeared on the screen.
She revealed a small notepad and a clicked open a pen, squinting at him expectantly, "And they are?"
He listed them off as though reading a grocery list, "Mild dyspnea, tachycardia, increased blood pressure, feverish chills, hyperhidrosis, and a strange feeling in my stomach; it was almost like a somewhat-pleasant nausea."
Amy finished scribbling, her gaze darting over the words she had written. She looked up and stared at him, pushing her drooping spectacles back up her nose. Her eyes dropped down to the notepad and then back to him.
"Sheldon, do you remember when I experienced a physical attraction to the ex-partner of my bestie?"
He paused, the memory coming easily to mind.
"Of course I do, Amy. I have an eidetic memory. What does that have to do with my situation?"
"I believe you are experiencing a similar reaction."
He was flabbergasted. How could he possibly be physically attracted to anything? He, a homo novus, was showing signs and symptoms of physical attraction toward a homo sapien? It seemed impossible to his scientific mind. His only love was theoretical physics, and she was a demanding mistress. He was about to rebuff his comrade-in-science when a strange inspiration hit him.
"If you experienced something similar, was it perhaps the primal aspects of what you witnessed that drew you to Penny's … ex?"
Amy blinked back at him, "Yes, I believe so. Why?"
"It can be assumed that such aspects have the same or similar effects on members of the opposite sex?"
She nodded, "It's highly probable, more than likely true. Perhaps you should experiment to prove such an assumption?"
Sheldon's blue eyes lit up as a strangely creepy grin found its way across his face, one eyebrow rising as he plotted.
"I shall test this hypothesis and I, Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper, will learn to dance like Penny."
"Wait, you walked in on my bestie dancing?"
Sheldon shot her a look that clearly said "I don't want to talk about it" and bid farewell, exiting Skype. Gathering his laptop, he retreated to his bedroom in order to devise a proper protocol and process.
Raj, Howard, and Leonard sat in the living room while Pria stood in the kitchen with an amused expression as the trio barely held onto their sanity as the song "Sexy Bitch" started over once again. The Indian pulled at his hair, staring at Leonard with a pleading gaze and tone.
"What is with Sheldon? It is Halo night! Why is he listening to this and locked in his room?"
Howard scowled, obviously irritated with the excessive repetition of the popular dance song.
"Yeah. As much as I appreciate the lyrics of this fine piece of art, he has been locked in his room listening to it for HOURS!" the short man snapped, glaring darkly down the hallway that led to the perpetrator's room.
Leonard groaned, resting his head on his propped up arms and slouching in the armchair; he was distressed and worn down from the incessant repetition. Pria came up behind him and rubbed his back as he spoke.
"The hell if I know. All he said was that it was for an experiment."
A/N: If you didn't read the top A/N you probably should. Please review!