54Hey Yall, this is my newest BBT fic.
This is a sort of playlist fic. Each chapter is based loosely on a song by the Beatles. Every chapter has it's own song that will tell one big story lol.
Hope you like it, lemme know. Reviews make me happy!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Big Bang Theory or The Beatles lol.
Penny and Sheldon's Beatle Medley
I Want To Hold Your Hand
Her entrance was both sudden, and ungraceful. It was customary for her to wander into their apartment at any given time during the day, and sometimes the night, without knocking or alerting them in anyway. However, never had she done it while holding an almost empty bottle of vodka, and staggering so completely that Sheldon was beginning to feel the onsets of vertigo. In alarm he rose to his feet as she leaned heavily on the end of the couch, smiling. She was worse off than he'd ever seen her, taking whatever hardship or heartache she'd encountered that day, far harder than any previous to it.
"Hiya Moon Pie." She said as she carefully made her way around the edge of the couch.
"Penny, I believe I've requested numerous times that you cease calling me by that particular pet name." He said glaring, her inebriated state not lessening his distaste for her disregard to his demand.
"Calm down, I was just kidding." She slurred as she plopped on the couch, slouching, the bottle tucked neatly under her arm.
Sheldon observed her as she sat there, staring at the screen of his laptop that he'd just sat aside. The headset was still on his head, since he'd just been playing Age of Conan. Her jeans were tight and slung low on her hips. Her shirt was white and hugged her curves, riding up when she'd slid down the leather material of the couch, revealing more skin than he supposed she'd wanted. He blushed and pulled his eyes away to reclaim his seat.
"If you're here for Leonard then I'm afraid you've just missed him. He just left to see Leslie Winkle." Sheldon almost spat as he picked up his laptop gingerly and sat it in his lap.
"I didn't come to see Leonard. I just didn't want to be alone." She took a sip from the bottle but the taste was beginning to repulse her. "I'm having a bad night."
"Is it the social norm between friends for me to now inquire as to the reason for your current state of inebriation?"
"I got dumped."
"And you've come here seeking comfort?" Sheldon asked, placing his laptop on the table once again.
"I guess."
There was silence. Penny leaned unsteadily across Sheldon's abandoned lap, for the remote on the arm of the couch. For the few brief moments that she was almost sprawled on his lower extremities Sheldon couldn't breath. She'd not noticed of course but instead was focused completely on the task at hand, to keep from falling over. When she finally had the illusive black plastic box, she roughly stabbed at the buttons until the television came to life. She leaned back again, her body suddenly much closer to his than it'd been only moments ago.
She seemed unaware of his stiffness and rigidity as she snuggled into the cushions and began lazily flicking through the channels. The bottle now in her lap was cold and inviting once more. She sipped again, the liquid burning and raw against her throat, but she pushed the annoying after taste out of her mind and drank more. When the warmth hit her veins she smiled lazily and turned to look up at him.
"Hey."
"I believe we've already exchanged this greeting Penny." He said, suddenly wondering if she hadn't hit her head earlier and was suffering from temporary short-term memory loss.
"I know, but you got so quiet." She mumbled. "I don't want to hear the quiet."
"Is there something I can offer you then Penny, to possibly make your situation better?"
"Yeah. I think there's something you can do."
He sat expectantly staring at her, waiting for whatever it was that would make her feel better and in essence rid him of her so he could continue his game. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy Penny's company; he just liked his peace and quiet. It would be hard to continue his game with her sitting there watching whatever inane shows she found on his television, much too loud. But after a moment she didn't speak. His brows knit together in frustration when something else drew his attention.
Her fingers were touching his skin, the underside of his hand, brushing along his palm. He was too astounded to do or say anything. The feel of her skin on his was strange, for her fingers never lingered in the same spot for long. Then they were pushing, separating his long fingers to slip between them, tickling the skin on the back of his hand as she clasped down. Her grip was loose and he was sure if he moved his hand at all he'd easily be able to slip his hand from hers, but he was still too taken aback to move.
She was staring at him, smiling that lazy smile still, as if there was nothing wrong with the picture. His hand was still motionless though hers was warm and soft against it. What was the protocol for this situation? What did one do when their hand was suddenly being, for lack of a better word, molested? His mind demanded answers. Was this what she'd need to feel better? Why would this make anyone feel better? After a moment he regained some composure and gently cleared his throat.
"Penny, what are you doing?" he asked plainly.
"Holding your hand." She said as she turned her attention to the old black and white movie she'd found on one of the channels she couldn't get at her apartment.
"Why?"
"Because it makes me feel better." She whispered.
"Why?"
"Because Sheldon, I want to hold your hand. When I touch you I feel happy, I don't feel alone."
"Do you feel any better?" he asked shakily.
"A little," she relented after taking another numbing sip. "But you aren't holding my hand back. Sheldon, hold my hand."
"Penny I must confess that I'm not at all comfortable with this."
"Please Sheldon." She begged, whining his name so softly.
Rarely did her attempts to get what she wanted from them work on him. He'd always been strangely immune to her cute ways, batting of eyelashes and what not. Always the levelheaded one of the bunch he'd refused her many whiny requests, but this time it was different. The way she said his name seemed to do something to him. But apparently his decision wasn't made at a speed to her liking for she suddenly lifted her hand clutching his own and with her other pushed his fingers closed.
He stared at their intertwined fingers, and then glanced at her. "Please release me Penny."
"I want to hold you hand Sheldon. I've always wondered what they felt like." She seemed to be staring through him now, almost as if she were looking in on her own thoughts. "What your skin would feel like, and if you could even do it. Sounds funny, but some people just don't know how to hold hands."
She continued, explaining how awkward some people could be, their palms being too heated and sweaty, or their grip too tight. Then her concentration was lost and she was sipping the vodka again, her eyelids growing heavier. She would be asleep soon he was sure.
Her blond hair was in gentle curls that cascaded over her shoulders. Her body was languid and warm for the back of his hand was pressed against the naked skin of her side as it sat joined with hers between them. He could hear her breathing as it evened, and he felt her grip beginning to loosen.
"Can I do it?" he asked.
"Hmm?" her head turned just the slightest bit toward him, her eyelids lifting so he could see the watery retina of her eyes.
He lifted their joined hands, the feel of his wrist sliding against the hem of the shirt she was wearing sending shivers up his arm. The corners of her mouth lifted a diminutive amount before she closed her eyes and nodded. And she turned her head back toward the television, lowering their hands to their previous position.
It wasn't until almost an hour later, as he lay in his bed staring at the ceiling, Penny asleep on the couch with her head in his spot, that Sheldon went over the entire situation in his head. Her words, though slurred and spoken in a drunken state, couldn't be untrue, could they? She'd said that she felt happy when she touched him that she didn't feel alone, that she wanted to hold his hand.
"She wants to hold my hand." He whispered to himself as he closed his eyes.
What did it mean?
What's up next...only I know. Lol. But reviews will help yall find out faster, I swear. Thanks for reading, no go click the button lol.
Starry