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damalurbackupTITLE: Your Endgame Must Be Suicide (2/3)
CHARACTERS: Sheldon/Penny
RATING: R
NOTES: The comic book referenced is Invincible Iron Man vol. 1 #172. It's worth googling for a laugh; the cover really does look like Marvel Comics meets Gone with the Wind by way of Queer as Folk. Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins inspired Penny's backstory (kudos if you guess the song!). Sheldon quotes Ranier Maria Rilke's "Pietà." As always, this sits firmly in the realm of experiment.
SUMMARY: AU. She was twenty-one and gorgeous when she transferred to Professor Cooper's class.
Prelude | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
YOUR ENDGAME MUST BE SUICIDE
— Part 2
1.
The bell rang.
The bell rang, and she sauntered to the front of the empty classroom, confident on stilettos that boosted her level with his mouth. She set two fingers on his tie; the invasion of his personal space was not a thing to be taken lightly, but she'd made up her mind and she'd worn the shoes and there was no turning back now.
He swallowed.
"Professor," she said, and struggled for words. No explanation came, so she kissed him, full on the mouth, two fingers hooked under his tie and the other hand pressed to his clavicle for balance.
He jerked back, his mouth very red against his pale skin; so she attacked again, yanked him down by his tie and kissed him and kept kissing him until something gave way and he sagged against her and his hands crept to her waist and he wrested control from her.
They pulled apart to breathe.
"Penny," he said, "this is not - "
"Shut up," she said, and kissed him again.
2.
She blew him in his office before class, and when he came one hand yanked at her hair and the other scrabbled for purchase on his desk, knocking over chess pieces like dominoes.
3.
"This," he said, "is a gross breach of protocol."
She ran her hand down his back and watched his eyes flutter shut. Then why do you was on the tip of her tongue, but she sensed that even so small a weight could upset their fragile equilibrium.
4.
"Tell me about yourself."
It wasn't a request so much as a command. Penny tugged at the sheets; they were both flat on their backs in his bed, shoulders barely brushing. The position lacked intimacy, particularly after what they'd just done, but for him to ask about her life - he might as well have slid his fingers back into her and brought her off again.
"I have brothers," she said. "But I don't see them a lot. My dad left my mom when - well, I was pretty little, and he took the boys with him. It was just me and Mom and whatever loser of the week she dragged home." She paused. "Mom waitressed at this diner, and I'd have to go straight there after school." The mattress dipped, and when she turned her head she found him looking back at her.
"Continue," he said. " - Please."
"When I was fifteen I started working at the diner with Mom, and then I kept working at the diner 'til I got sick of it. I applied for - geez, every student loan I could dig up, and came here. That's about it, really."
He was silent, and she took his silence to study the ceiling. The cover on the light was plain, but it softened the shadows into something almost friendly. "I wanted to be an actress."
She could feel his eyebrow lift. "Why?"
"Why? Because it's what I wanted to do, it was - look, it was just what I wanted to do. But we never had enough money. So, business." She shrugged one shoulder. "My mom had this fur coat, right? She saved up for, God, years, put aside all her tips and everything, finally got enough money to buy it. It was this huge ugly thing, but she was so proud of it. Genuine rabbit fur."
The light flickered. She tried to synchronize their breathing, but matching his even exhalations left her short of breath. "And I...all I could think was, If she hadn't bought that coat, I could have taken acting lessons."
He was silent; her story spilled into his silence. "I mean - it's stupid, right, but I was only a little kid. There was, I just felt so confused and angry and guilty, because she never did anything like that for me, and I was her daughter - "
He was silent.
5.
Five minutes later, still silent, he rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom. She heard the shower start, and then he pushed the door shut.
She spent ten of the intervening minutes lolling in bed, but curiosity seized her; she shook out the neat folds of his dress shirt and slipped it on, buttoning the front haphazardly. His bedroom was as neat as she'd expected, but oddly sterile. There was a picture of a dark-haired woman about her own age on his dresser, and Penny wondered -
She set the frame down and turned around quickly, too quickly; her foot hit something solid under the bed and she went down, twisting to land on her side. No pain, not really, but the air was knocked from her.
She blinked.
The entire space below his bed was lined with boxes, identical white boxes with uniform lids, each about the height of a hardback book. Dust coated her hand when she touched the top. She hooked her fingers into the cutaway handle, pulled, and grunted with surprise; the box was longer than she'd thought and heavy.
Inside lay a long row of - somethings, each something sealed into a plastic sleeve. She worked one of the somethings out - they were packed tight - and found, preserved and packaged with a cardboard backing, a comic book.
Comic books. Boxes and boxes of comic books. The one in her hand was dated July, with no year, but the price was only sixty cents; it had to have been from years or even decades ago. On the cover a man wearing a blue mask cradled another man, this one dark-haired and unconscious. She clamped down a giggle; it looked like gay erotica, not, as the title loudly proclaimed, THE INVINCIBLE IRON MAN.
The shower shut off, and her heart leapt. She slid THE INVINCIBLE IRON MAN and his paramour back into what she hoped was the right spot, fumbled the lid on, and shoved hard until the whole box slid under the bed. When the door opened and he emerged in a cloud of steam, she was again sprawled across the bed, one hand under her head while the other toyed with the shirt's buttons.
He tilted his head and said, quite calmly, "Penny. You're wearing my shirt. You can't be wearing my shirt."
She didn't know what she expected, but it certainly wasn't this.
6.
So when Kurt asked her out to dinner, she didn't struggle with her answer.
She said yes, of course.
7.
Friday afternoons always felt slow to her, with morning classes long over with and the excitement of the evening not yet begun. She slipped into his office out of boredom more than anything; he must have been in a similar predicament, because the white board that dominated one wall was wiped blank and he was bent over his chess board.
"Hello, Penny," he said, absently. "Would you care for a game?"
"No," she said. "No, thanks. I don't play chess. I thought we covered that."
He looked up at her. "Forgive me. I was under the impression that extending an invitation for inclusion was the proper custom, but - "
"No. Yes." The two chairs were pushed so far under his desk that the backs of the seats touched the desk's edge; she yanked one out and collapsed into it. "Sorry. Still not in the mood for chess, though." And anyway, she wouldn't be able to match him, even if the point was to lose all your pieces instead of keep them.
She watched as he exchanged two of the pieces, and then jotted a note on a legal pad. "Are you eager for your date tonight?" he asked.
"...You know about that, huh."
He sighed his impatient with the universe sigh. "I am neither particularly attentive to nor interested in the vagaries of human behavior, but please, Penny, I have an IQ of one hundred eighty-seven. Give me some credit."
"Well, gee," she said. He made another note, edged one of the pieces towards her with a fine-boned finger. "I don't, it isn't - it doesn't mean anything," she tried. His eyebrows arched. "It's only dinner, and it's nice to be around a guy my own age, and anyway, I don't have to answer to you."
The top of his pen began to weave in circles. "How old do you think I am?"
She shrugged. "I have no idea. Thirty? Thirty-five? Why, is it important?"
"I'm twenty-four."
"Holy crap." The world snapped into focus. "Twenty-four? Really?" He nodded. "Holy crap, that' s only - "
"Yes."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
The top of his pen dipped. "Would it have mattered?" The question was distant, answering an expectation but without any emotional investment behind it.
She looked away.
8.
Her date with Kurt went great.
Thanks for asking.
9.
After mid-terms, she finally had time to wonder.
"So," she said, spread face-down and naked across his desk. He was slumped over her, his breath still coming in great heaves. "What's a genius like you doing in a place like this?"
He stiffened, but her timing caught him off-guard. "It became," he searched for a word, "...imperative for me to work. I cut short my course of study and took the first available job, which was regrettably at an institution more noted for keg parties than cutting-edge research."
"Why?"
Something light kissed the nape of her neck: His lips, or maybe the breeze from the cracked window.
"I had to take care of my younger sister," he said.
10.
They were alone in the room before class started, he early from habit, she for no particular reason.
She told herself that, anyway, no particular reason. It sounded good.
"Penny," he said, and cleared his throat. "Would you like to join me for dinner?"
She gaped.
"Tonight?" he added.
"Yes!" They both jumped, equally startled by the vehemence of her response. "Or - no. Yes, but not tonight, I'm busy, and - will you ask me again?"
"Busy," he said. "With Kurt?"
"Maybe," she said. "You've never asked me out before. You never done anything but - " fuck me.
His face went flat. "Dein Herz steht offen, und man kann hinein," he muttered. "Das hätte dürfen nur mein Eingang sein."
"...Your heart stands...open?" she said. "And one can - "
"You speak German?"
"You speak German," she returned. "I had two semesters of it. What was that?"
A tint spread across his cheekbones. "Rilke."
"...Poetry? You?"
"Yes, well," he said, and his voice was back to that familiar shrewish tone. "I don't typically indulge in frivolous flights of fancy, but Rilke was a favorite of my - my father."
"I didn't know you knew German," she said. "Or quoted poetry."
This time he was the one to look away. "I imagine," he said, "that there are many things you don't know."
The bell rang.
Coda.
Six years later, they met again at a train station. She wore another man's ring on her fourth finger.
— Part 3
CHARACTERS: Sheldon/Penny
RATING: R
NOTES: The comic book referenced is Invincible Iron Man vol. 1 #172. It's worth googling for a laugh; the cover really does look like Marvel Comics meets Gone with the Wind by way of Queer as Folk. Jenny Lewis & The Watson Twins inspired Penny's backstory (kudos if you guess the song!). Sheldon quotes Ranier Maria Rilke's "Pietà." As always, this sits firmly in the realm of experiment.
SUMMARY: AU. She was twenty-one and gorgeous when she transferred to Professor Cooper's class.
Prelude | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
YOUR ENDGAME MUST BE SUICIDE
— Part 2
1.
The bell rang.
The bell rang, and she sauntered to the front of the empty classroom, confident on stilettos that boosted her level with his mouth. She set two fingers on his tie; the invasion of his personal space was not a thing to be taken lightly, but she'd made up her mind and she'd worn the shoes and there was no turning back now.
He swallowed.
"Professor," she said, and struggled for words. No explanation came, so she kissed him, full on the mouth, two fingers hooked under his tie and the other hand pressed to his clavicle for balance.
He jerked back, his mouth very red against his pale skin; so she attacked again, yanked him down by his tie and kissed him and kept kissing him until something gave way and he sagged against her and his hands crept to her waist and he wrested control from her.
They pulled apart to breathe.
"Penny," he said, "this is not - "
"Shut up," she said, and kissed him again.
2.
She blew him in his office before class, and when he came one hand yanked at her hair and the other scrabbled for purchase on his desk, knocking over chess pieces like dominoes.
3.
"This," he said, "is a gross breach of protocol."
She ran her hand down his back and watched his eyes flutter shut. Then why do you was on the tip of her tongue, but she sensed that even so small a weight could upset their fragile equilibrium.
4.
"Tell me about yourself."
It wasn't a request so much as a command. Penny tugged at the sheets; they were both flat on their backs in his bed, shoulders barely brushing. The position lacked intimacy, particularly after what they'd just done, but for him to ask about her life - he might as well have slid his fingers back into her and brought her off again.
"I have brothers," she said. "But I don't see them a lot. My dad left my mom when - well, I was pretty little, and he took the boys with him. It was just me and Mom and whatever loser of the week she dragged home." She paused. "Mom waitressed at this diner, and I'd have to go straight there after school." The mattress dipped, and when she turned her head she found him looking back at her.
"Continue," he said. " - Please."
"When I was fifteen I started working at the diner with Mom, and then I kept working at the diner 'til I got sick of it. I applied for - geez, every student loan I could dig up, and came here. That's about it, really."
He was silent, and she took his silence to study the ceiling. The cover on the light was plain, but it softened the shadows into something almost friendly. "I wanted to be an actress."
She could feel his eyebrow lift. "Why?"
"Why? Because it's what I wanted to do, it was - look, it was just what I wanted to do. But we never had enough money. So, business." She shrugged one shoulder. "My mom had this fur coat, right? She saved up for, God, years, put aside all her tips and everything, finally got enough money to buy it. It was this huge ugly thing, but she was so proud of it. Genuine rabbit fur."
The light flickered. She tried to synchronize their breathing, but matching his even exhalations left her short of breath. "And I...all I could think was, If she hadn't bought that coat, I could have taken acting lessons."
He was silent; her story spilled into his silence. "I mean - it's stupid, right, but I was only a little kid. There was, I just felt so confused and angry and guilty, because she never did anything like that for me, and I was her daughter - "
He was silent.
5.
Five minutes later, still silent, he rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom. She heard the shower start, and then he pushed the door shut.
She spent ten of the intervening minutes lolling in bed, but curiosity seized her; she shook out the neat folds of his dress shirt and slipped it on, buttoning the front haphazardly. His bedroom was as neat as she'd expected, but oddly sterile. There was a picture of a dark-haired woman about her own age on his dresser, and Penny wondered -
She set the frame down and turned around quickly, too quickly; her foot hit something solid under the bed and she went down, twisting to land on her side. No pain, not really, but the air was knocked from her.
She blinked.
The entire space below his bed was lined with boxes, identical white boxes with uniform lids, each about the height of a hardback book. Dust coated her hand when she touched the top. She hooked her fingers into the cutaway handle, pulled, and grunted with surprise; the box was longer than she'd thought and heavy.
Inside lay a long row of - somethings, each something sealed into a plastic sleeve. She worked one of the somethings out - they were packed tight - and found, preserved and packaged with a cardboard backing, a comic book.
Comic books. Boxes and boxes of comic books. The one in her hand was dated July, with no year, but the price was only sixty cents; it had to have been from years or even decades ago. On the cover a man wearing a blue mask cradled another man, this one dark-haired and unconscious. She clamped down a giggle; it looked like gay erotica, not, as the title loudly proclaimed, THE INVINCIBLE IRON MAN.
The shower shut off, and her heart leapt. She slid THE INVINCIBLE IRON MAN and his paramour back into what she hoped was the right spot, fumbled the lid on, and shoved hard until the whole box slid under the bed. When the door opened and he emerged in a cloud of steam, she was again sprawled across the bed, one hand under her head while the other toyed with the shirt's buttons.
He tilted his head and said, quite calmly, "Penny. You're wearing my shirt. You can't be wearing my shirt."
She didn't know what she expected, but it certainly wasn't this.
6.
So when Kurt asked her out to dinner, she didn't struggle with her answer.
She said yes, of course.
7.
Friday afternoons always felt slow to her, with morning classes long over with and the excitement of the evening not yet begun. She slipped into his office out of boredom more than anything; he must have been in a similar predicament, because the white board that dominated one wall was wiped blank and he was bent over his chess board.
"Hello, Penny," he said, absently. "Would you care for a game?"
"No," she said. "No, thanks. I don't play chess. I thought we covered that."
He looked up at her. "Forgive me. I was under the impression that extending an invitation for inclusion was the proper custom, but - "
"No. Yes." The two chairs were pushed so far under his desk that the backs of the seats touched the desk's edge; she yanked one out and collapsed into it. "Sorry. Still not in the mood for chess, though." And anyway, she wouldn't be able to match him, even if the point was to lose all your pieces instead of keep them.
She watched as he exchanged two of the pieces, and then jotted a note on a legal pad. "Are you eager for your date tonight?" he asked.
"...You know about that, huh."
He sighed his impatient with the universe sigh. "I am neither particularly attentive to nor interested in the vagaries of human behavior, but please, Penny, I have an IQ of one hundred eighty-seven. Give me some credit."
"Well, gee," she said. He made another note, edged one of the pieces towards her with a fine-boned finger. "I don't, it isn't - it doesn't mean anything," she tried. His eyebrows arched. "It's only dinner, and it's nice to be around a guy my own age, and anyway, I don't have to answer to you."
The top of his pen began to weave in circles. "How old do you think I am?"
She shrugged. "I have no idea. Thirty? Thirty-five? Why, is it important?"
"I'm twenty-four."
"Holy crap." The world snapped into focus. "Twenty-four? Really?" He nodded. "Holy crap, that' s only - "
"Yes."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
The top of his pen dipped. "Would it have mattered?" The question was distant, answering an expectation but without any emotional investment behind it.
She looked away.
8.
Her date with Kurt went great.
Thanks for asking.
9.
After mid-terms, she finally had time to wonder.
"So," she said, spread face-down and naked across his desk. He was slumped over her, his breath still coming in great heaves. "What's a genius like you doing in a place like this?"
He stiffened, but her timing caught him off-guard. "It became," he searched for a word, "...imperative for me to work. I cut short my course of study and took the first available job, which was regrettably at an institution more noted for keg parties than cutting-edge research."
"Why?"
Something light kissed the nape of her neck: His lips, or maybe the breeze from the cracked window.
"I had to take care of my younger sister," he said.
10.
They were alone in the room before class started, he early from habit, she for no particular reason.
She told herself that, anyway, no particular reason. It sounded good.
"Penny," he said, and cleared his throat. "Would you like to join me for dinner?"
She gaped.
"Tonight?" he added.
"Yes!" They both jumped, equally startled by the vehemence of her response. "Or - no. Yes, but not tonight, I'm busy, and - will you ask me again?"
"Busy," he said. "With Kurt?"
"Maybe," she said. "You've never asked me out before. You never done anything but - " fuck me.
His face went flat. "Dein Herz steht offen, und man kann hinein," he muttered. "Das hätte dürfen nur mein Eingang sein."
"...Your heart stands...open?" she said. "And one can - "
"You speak German?"
"You speak German," she returned. "I had two semesters of it. What was that?"
A tint spread across his cheekbones. "Rilke."
"...Poetry? You?"
"Yes, well," he said, and his voice was back to that familiar shrewish tone. "I don't typically indulge in frivolous flights of fancy, but Rilke was a favorite of my - my father."
"I didn't know you knew German," she said. "Or quoted poetry."
This time he was the one to look away. "I imagine," he said, "that there are many things you don't know."
The bell rang.
Coda.
Six years later, they met again at a train station. She wore another man's ring on her fourth finger.
— Part 3
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 06:27 am (UTC)<3
I love this. Love, love, love.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 06:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 06:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 06:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 06:52 am (UTC)"Holy crap." The world snapped into focus. "Twenty-four? Really?" He nodded. "Holy crap, that' s only - "
I don't know why I find this almost as hot as the sex scenes, but I totally do.
Also, EW, Penny! Get some other man's ring off your finger! I must see this resolved! I hope more comes soon!
no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 06:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 06:57 am (UTC)Now I wonder who you have her marrying. If it's an OC, that's cool, but the idea of Sheldon stealing her from Kurt or Leonard? Pretty awesome.
I really can't get over how great it is that he's twenty-four. I can totally see someone who has never met this Sheldon assuming him to be much older. Without the comic book shirts, he comes off as geriatric. But in a disturbingly attractive, vintage kind of way. He transcends age.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 07:00 am (UTC)He does transcend age! He has the sort of face that makes it hard to pinpoint exactly how old he is; I was surprised when I learned that Jim Parsons was in his mid-thirties.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 07:05 am (UTC)Yeah, it's also the tenor of his voice and the posture. He's just so old-fashioned even when programming robots and RFID tagging his clothing. That's what old people would do with an understanding of technology, not twenty-somethings. So, when you put him with even more academia and having to wear suits (which, I don't know if you mentioned, but obvs involve tweed half the time, I'd guess) it's SO believable.
I can't wait for more!
no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 08:25 am (UTC)In a less creepy note, and as
I HAD to look for the poem he quoted, of course. And the translated quote makes this chapter all the more amazing.
I cannot wait to read more of this!
no subject
Date: 2009-04-25 03:55 am (UTC)I'm thinking about quoting the whole poem before or after the last chapter; I think it works really well for this universe, particularly since, in my head, Sheldon's parents were still both rigidly religious.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 12:31 pm (UTC)And I know what Jenny Lewis song it is. "Rabbit Fur Coat" (Right?)
no subject
Date: 2009-04-25 03:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 05:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-25 03:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 07:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-25 03:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-23 07:26 pm (UTC)This is a great fic. I love the whole set-up. I love the format and that INFURIATINGLY TEASING TRAIN STATION AND WHOSE RING IS SHE WEARING?
Have I mentioned that you have a great way of telling a story? No? Well, you do.
no subject
Date: 2009-04-25 03:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-24 03:45 am (UTC)Sheeeesh! Could someone open a window, it's steamy!
Pardon my terrible joke as I commend your amazing fic.
I call for a round of applause! *claps*
Wonderful!!!
no subject
Date: 2009-04-25 03:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-08 12:15 pm (UTC)Please tell me there's gonna be more! Please don't tell me you've got a flighty muse!
no subject
Date: 2009-06-08 07:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-09 10:43 am (UTC)Yay! Really looking forward to part three (and anything else that might follow :) ).
O.O
Date: 2009-06-12 03:55 pm (UTC)Keep up the great work and wonderful writing style so goooooooooooooood
no subject
Date: 2009-07-28 07:52 am (UTC)I loved this so much. That Rilke quote at the end was a great idea. :)
But I just need to know what happens! *flail*
no subject
Date: 2009-08-04 04:11 pm (UTC)Seriously, I am in love. I really, really hope you decide to continue this just so I know how it ends.