Chapter Text
Part I
It was hot. Extremely hot on this late afternoon at the US West Coast.
Even for September, which was a summer month in San Francisco, it was so crushing that there were no one who does not groaned under the climatic conditions of this year. A heavy smog hovering over the city, and the clouds which had gradually gathering shone the sky in a phosphor-yellow, which announced that soon a heavy storm would pour over the pacific-metropolis.
Sheldon Lee Cooper, bearer of two doctorate-titles and blessed with an IQ of 187 got out of the elevator of the apartment building where he lived, and took out the key of the door 6E. His thoughts still revolved around his work of the day he-even he already made longer-felt it as not completed sufficient.
Sheldon was a theoretical physicist and employed at the “San Francisco State University”. His field was the study of the”string-theory” which was his undivided interest since his earliest youth, and he had vowed to prove it someday.
Certainly- not an easy goal -...... but it behaved so that his work was the only thing for what Sheldon had (let us call it) a kind of passion, and he cherished no doubt that he would make it someday to be able to prove this theory (a holy Grail of science) empirically.
Regarding the achievement of its ambitious goal he had -apart from the fact that he was one of the brightest minds of his generation- his discipline, his extremely pronounced sense of order and his almost fanatical pedantry on his side, on which based both his work and his daily routines.
The disadvantage of this-if you wanted to call it so, ... he himself would not have it certainly, -was that these strengths usually went on the expense of his professional and social environment.
All in all, it would have been an understatement to call Sheldon difficult. In view of his high intelligence and the resulting self-assurance from it, he inclined to be often ruthlessly open towards other people, in spite of the possibility he stepped with it them too near or not.
His actions reached from bare objections about improvements and instructions up to quick-tempered word-battles which he continued so long, until his opponent either withdrew or agreed to his view.
These properties made him surely to a capricious character which was not easy to manage-at least if someone did not know how had to “take him.”
Besides, it was actually not Sheldons intention to offend somebody or to injured, but to revise merely view-technical mistakes, or to extend if necessary the horizon of the other what, for usual, did not recognize.
The problem which his colleagues had with him: He knew everything better, and was still always right, which led to the result that, with regard to his specialist knowledge and his abilities, he led high respect- because of his eccentric kind socially as much as possible was avoided. Nevertheless, this did not pose particular problems to him, had none of his present colleagues the necessary conditions or interests they would have legitimized an amicable relation to him. At his previous activity place, the “Caltech” in Pasadena, this had been different. However, this dated about one year now back, and his priorities had become others.
Just Sheldon had unlocked his door, when he heard, some meters to his rights, the voice of his neighbor.
“Hello, Doctor Cooper.”
Sheldon turned his head and looked in the smiling face of Tiffany (he not knew her surname) which left just her flat.
“Good evening,“ he answered by the way.
The young, not particularly largely grown, dark-haired woman closed her door, and walked over the hall-lamp, which flickered for a few days, in the direction of the lift. She wore a top, hot pants, and quite high-heeled shoes with which she probably persecuted the intention to seem bigger.
She always left late her apartment to go to her work, from which Sheldon had no notion and also-to tell the truth- did not interest him.
“Have you considered it,”she asked when she went past to him.
"Considers what?“
“Well, you already know. The offer which I have recently made to you. “
“Oh yes,” he answered lost in thought. It had been very friendly what she had offered him, but at the moment not inevitably.
“Well, it is a pity,“ she said after his answer, and went to the lift.
„It still applies,“ she shouted, and grinned at him mischievously, while the doors shut.
He shook the head.
‚Why does this woman make such a fuss around a possible favor?’
Sheldon laid his key on the little cupboard beside the door, and walked in his small living-room which was separated only by a narrow room divider from the kitchen.
On his couch table lay a jubilee-edition of “The Flash-The fastest man of the world“.
He had read out it already two days ago, after he got it from his mailbox and however -he did not know why- not yet properly had accommodated.
The only things which Sheldon,beside physics, honored were the fantasy epics of Tolkien, Roddenberry, Lucas, as well as virtual empires Ala “Age of Conan“ and the heroes of the drawn worlds whose adventure he always pursued meticulously.
He had collected certainly more than a thousand copies of the “DC” and “Marvel” stories in the course of the years. On account of the restricted possibilities of his flat he had to stow away the majority at the basement of the building. Of course chronologically regularly, and packs in airtight foils.
Sheldon took the volume of the table and proceeded in his bedroom lying next door,...because the most important and expensive for him he still kept in his immediate nearness.
He passed his bed, and took the lid of a big cardboard which stood on his chest of drawers.
The first what appeared in it, was a plastic cover which nevertheless contained no comic, but a napkin which had been given to him some time ago at Christmas.
This piece held quite occupied a special place in his inside which would have filled by nothing else or would have become substituted. Also, not by the new volume in his hands.
Sheldon took out the cover, and laid the comic on the pile which was under it. Then he placed the napkin, like before, above that and closed the cardboard again.
When he came back to his living-room, he looked at his wristwatch.
16:55 o'clock
65 minutes up to the Blu-ray which it was matter to fill.
Once, evenings like this had always been booked for the common play of a classic videogame with his friends, but these times-how mentioned- were over.
Indeed, he could also have begun alone a play (what he had done during former years also always)but, however, the dispersion had got lost to him more and more without equal partners.
Like the whole last months, Sheldon devoted himself, instead of this, to his big Whiteboard to continue the calculations of the day.
He straightened to himself a chair, caught a black pencil and started to write formulae on the white surface which had to seem to every average citizen like messages from another world. However, for Sheldon it was the most normal what there was.
Intently he stared at the calculations, while behind his forehead the most complicated lines of thought took their run.
He hated it if things which he tackled did not come to an end, and his slope to the perfect did him then always to continue until the goal was reached.
However, today it did not want so really work. How much he exerted himself, he did not continuously to focus what riled him severely and brought his corners of mouth to nervous twitching.
Finally, he leaned back, and admitted himself that his mind was too exhausted evening to achieve the desired result at the today's evening.
What might this only lie with? Was he possibly. . .revised ?
Once work had never taken him beyond all measure or had got him tired.
However, apparently it was a fact, and it made no sense to fight against it. It was illogically to try to go on working in this state.
Tomorrow he would continue. Although it was Saturday then, but he would miss nothing if he devoted himself the free day about his formulae.
A last time he looked muttering at the Board and closed the pencil in his hand.
It so was out of character, unusual. Even embarrassingly.
But in this case, the will had to bend against an exhaustion-induced lack of neurochemical capacity.
He was even more puzzled when he looked at his watch for the second time.
6:15
Sheldon was a person with iron habits. He kept to a strictly regulated daily routine and abhorred it if this mixed up.
‚ Fifteen minutes over the time. ’
“Hmm. Again. “
Also such a thing had never happened to him once,.... but because it had happened in favor of the science, it was more than forgivable.
What was next on the agenda?
His brain called away: 'Friday evening. Diner at the Chinese restaurant “Hongs”. 19:00 o'clock. ’
Another 35 minutes up to the departure if he wanted to go the way as usual comfortably.
Something new to read he did not have. For the intended episode of “Star Trek:The next generation“ on Blu-ray the time was also too short.
Briefly he thought, and in consideration of the temporal circumstances, he got, to bridle, his Theremin from the cupboard.
A few days ago, after long time, he resumed to play on it, because it calmed his nerves well, and after these strenuous musings this was all right to him.
Before he began, he closed, as a precaution, the windows, because the last time his other neighbor Mister Norris, had knocked after ten minutes and asked if he was just about to torment a cat.
“I torment no cat, but I play on a Theremin,“ had Sheldon answered.
“On a what?“
“A Theremin. A music instrument which has been constructed by the brilliantly Russian inventor Lew Termen. It is pursued solely by the electric capacity of the human body from what by you, how is to be seen quite clear, not more all too much exists.“
The bowed and always somewhat grumpy-looking, Mister Norris had thrown a piercing look to him and had insisted emphatically on the fact that he should not celebrate his “misery concert” kindly too loudly.
Sheldon knew which problems the other neighbors quite had with Mister Norris, and because he had not felt the desire for a renewed confrontation, he also had -because it had been quite late- renounced on another play. Today, however, with the closed windows no other Interrupts might be to be expected.
Sheldon sat down, and started to play quietly the first tacts.
This time it lasted just seven minutes, until it knocked.
Easily annoyed Sheldon put aside the instrument again and got up.
'This Mr. Noriss is not anymore at his height, but his ears are the ones of a Vulcan bat', he thought, while he went to the door.
Maybe he would become better known to appreciate if he would explain him the physical impact of the device, although Sheldon knew, actually, this would be probably wasted time.
But what the hell?
He could try it. It was no disgrace to try to close somebody gaps in knowledge. Already not if it was about physics.
He opened, and expected straight away the fierce expression of his neighbor to have before eyes, but instead of this a luminous color which made to briefly wink him jumped to his eyes.
In the next half a second his confusion still increased a little more, because what stood before his door, was unambiguously feminine.
“Hello, Sheldon“, he heard a familiar voice saying, and his next look confirmed his acceptance.
In front of him stood Penny. His former neighbor from Pasadena. The girl who had come from Nebraska to become an actress.
The day she had entered the apartment towards
of him and Leonard (Leonard Hofsteadter, physicist like him, his roommate and best friend), everything had changed. From her was the napkin which he held thus in honor.
She wore a garishly-red armless shirt and black jeans. Around her shoulder hung the brown leather handbag he knew.
“Hello”, he answered-honest in amazement.
It was a long time ago he had seen her, and the last what he had guessed that would she so suddenly stand before his front door.
She smiled to him warmly and stepped up without circumlocutions to him.
“You are difficult to be found, Sweetie, “she said, laid her arms around him to pressed him a short kiss the cheek.
According to his kind-he had problems with to let touch- his whole body became briefly stiffly what changed only again, after she had let go him.
After that she raised her eyes to him and looked into his -apparently astonished- face, because it slipped out her a short laugh.
"What’s the matter? Have I so changed that you do not recognize me anymore, Honey?“
“No,“ he answered, still standing under the effect of the surprise.
Second-long he looked at her without knowing what was to be made from this astonishing situation.
With an amused-puzzling look Penny lifted the hand and closed her nose with thumb and forefinger.
“Earth to Sheldon Cooper. Penny asks for permission to be allowed to enter your flat,“ she gave slightly squawking from herself what Sheldon got from his short stiffness.
“Excuse,“ he said, and stepped aside as Penny entered.
“Well, you are you a little glad to see me?“
He did not understand. Why should he not be pleased?
She probably noticed that she demanded him a little bit too much with this question, so she simply went on talking.
“"You pulled back quite well. It has lasted long, until I had your address. “
Indeed, Sheldon had made certain arrangements which had seemed to him, in connection with his work, sensible. Man could finally never known.
“Like a snail who has contorted in her small house“ she said and looked him slightly provoking.
“Sheldon, the snail. “
At this point he had a problem once more, because he had only conditioned understanding for comic or irony.
Normally his reaction was limited, regarding putative humorous climaxes, to a short air-entering laughing-noise which always sounded like Darth Vader shortly before the last departure.
Anyhow here it seemed inappropriate to him, and so he left it with a short embarrassed expression.
'Embarrassed? Why, ’it went into Sheldons head.
'I have made nothing wrong. ’
“Nice to see you,“ he said.
Smile was foreign to his facial-muscles, but in this case it was not difficult for him. He closed the door behind her and asked her to enter his apartment.
Is to be continued?