rostalgia

[rostalgia]

There's just something about sheldon in this scene when he winked at penny.

[rostalgia]

Wrote this during the pandemic

July, 1996. 『Baja, Mexico』

“Fuck!” Kate cried out, sat in the passenger seat, her hand shielding her eyes from the morning sunlight searing her face as Leo pulled over to park his rental black convertible, terribly dazed and hungover, her stomach roiling from last night’s exertion.

Turning off the car’s engine, Leo turned to her, concern apparent in his blue eyes as he witnessed her awful state; almost regretting his headstrong persistence last night. “Sweetheart, hey,” he called, “I’m gonna call old Jim and tell him you’re not feeling well today, then I’ll drive you back, alright?”

“No!” She lamented, slowly unclosing her weary eyelids, “but you look really sick, sweetheart.” He countered, truly adamant to get her to rest to recuperate.

“I’ll be fine, Leo. I’m sure the Advil will kick in soon.” She spoke in a fruitful attempt to give him the assurance she knew he needed as she fiddled in her seat to stumble upon a comfortable posture. “Just give me, like,” she sighed wearily, resting her troubled eyes yet again, “five minutes to gather.”

He bit his lips, his eyes focused on her. “Okay, but you have to promise to tell me if you don’t feel like you can. Alright?”

She gave him a nod, her head still resting on the headrest with her eyes closed, “yes, absolutely.”

And so they silently sat in the velvet covered car seats, his sight never leaving her jaded figure, which was illuminated by the sun. His hand so gingerly brushed a strand of her red coloured hair away from her eased face.

Some minutes passed and the pair traipsed down the ordinarily busy pavements of Fox Baja Studios en route to Leo’s trailer by the coast. His one arm platonically wrapped around her curvy waistline in assistance and his hand held a half-filled water bottle on the other side, whilst she walked with crossed arms, still slightly reeling.

Staff and crews were everywhere, running errands about the place; people hoisted up on cranes on their right, leisurely replicating wooden hulls of the Titanic, whilst People pushed steel trolleys with carry-ons on their left. Polite smiles on both their faces as they exchanged ‘hellos’ and ‘how are yous’ on their walkabout.

Passing two more blocks to the left, they finally landed in Leo’s trailer. The exterior was ordinarily white, it almost looked identical to every other trailer set up in the same area, only more spacious than the rest as it was the best available accomodation on set.

Leo quickly unlocked the door, revealing its wooden interiors and a carpeted floor. White horizontal blinds overlaying the window panes and blocking the sunlight, the soft golden light from his sconce lamp emblazoning the place instead. Atwarth to her right, centers a small galley kitchen island adjacent to a french door fridge and a four-seater dining set, abreast to it was his TV set atwarth to a white couch.

He stepped aside, ushering her in, “get in, sweetie, make yourself comfortable and get some rest. I just have to meet with (Danny) Nucci, but I’ll be quick.”

She gave him a nod, “okay, darling, just wake me up and could you bring me my usual coffee on your way back, please?” She requested, her eyebrows raised, daringly.

“Sure, Kitkat.” He chafed with a laugh, fully aware of her strong dislike for that nickname, “oh, fuck off!” She exclaimed playing along, he then gave her a kiss on the forehead before closing the door, humour still evident in his face.

Kate walked down the narrow aisle, in between the kitchen island and the square dining set, directing to a two step stair leading to the demure bedroom area. Polished cabinets mounted above his unmade bed, flanked by a narrow wooden nightstand on each side, which held his telephone on the right and a nightstand lamp on the left.

Doffing her spiked heeled boots, she placed them on the side of the stairs, before she settled into bed, leaning into the stillness.

Shortly, Leo heedfully walked through the door with two cups of decaf coffee in a disposable carrier in his hand, placing them along with his wallet in the galley island.

As Exhaustion passed him, he ran his fingers through his luscious hair, the movement repositioning his thin headband, with a yawn, he set foot in the bedroom area where Kate napped snuggly in the right side of the bed on her side.

Leo perched precariously on the landing, dousing his Nike trainers off prior to settling down into bed next to her, “Hey sweetie, how are you feeling?” he whispered tenderly as he leaned in, his large hand fondling on her shoulder, “I’ve brought coffee.” Kate uttered a moan, placing her diminutive hand atop his, leaning her head towards his direction, “what time is it?” she asked groggily, having Leo give his silver wristwatch a quick glance, “well, sweetie, it’s about nine o’clock and we have to be in the hair and makeup by ten.” He reared from his leaning position, “okay, I’m getting up,” Leo assisted her as she mounted from the commodious bed, the blanket and the sheets, in disarray.

They descended the room, their synonymous sized bare feet softly pelting against the carpeted floor. “Here, sweetheart.” He pulled the chair for her from the island, where the cup of coffees lay, “thank you, darling.” She gave him a smile of gratitude, subsequently he reclined next to her.

“You know, I want someone to look after me.” Kate imparted a raw thought as she stirred her coffee with a disposable stir stick, Leo faughed, before he took a sip of his coffee “no, you don’t. You’re completely and absolutely good at being independent.” She halted her motions, “well, I do, I want a boyfriend and I wanna have a baby,” she dragged on her truths, seriousness to a full degree now, “what? now?” he bolted, placing his drink on the back on the island, his head snapped to her direction, eyes wide, drawing on her to fall back laughing at his aghast reaction, her catching laughter had him cackling as well until the pair ended toppling on the floor abreast,their back leaning against the wooden high chairs.

Leo flicked a strand of his blonde hair as he regained his composure, before elevated his right foot, “Hey, sweetie, foot to foot,” A new sense of laughter already evident on his face, she held her foot up to his, and it drove him into another contagious laughing fit, how their foot equal in size, after all, he was six foot, one and she was five foot, six. “They are your canoes!” He exclaimed, face flushed from the laughing, his headband already on the floor.

[rostalgia]

I do love them together.

[rostalgia]

"Hey Sheldon?" A slightly inebriated Penny asked, twirling her fork in her leftover spaghetti. "Did you ever have your first kiss?"

"Yes. Though I should note that none were initiated by me," Sheldon said matter-of-factly. "Three separate women have kissed me without warning. Two women from work were apparently enticed by my uniqueness before laughing behind my back, and Beverly Hofstadter while intoxicated."

Penny's fork clattered against her plate, her drunken state amplifying the vision. She knows it all too well. How dare anyone take advantage of her whackadoodle.

"Penny?" Sheldon looked up at the sound, only to find her staring at him, eyes brimming with tears. "Have I said something wrong?"

"They made fun of you," she whispered, her voice thick. "They all made fun of you, then just... just decided they could kiss you whenever they wanted?"

"Well, yes. Though I fail to see why this upsets you. People generally find me disagreeable until they require my assistance with something."

A tear slipped down Penny's cheek. "Oh, sweetie..."

"Now you're crying. I don't understand." He shifted uncomfortably. "These incidents occurred years ago."

"I'm crying because you think it's normal!" Her voice cracked. "Because my brilliant, wonderful whackadoodle just accepts being treated like... like some toy people can mock and then use whenever they feel like it!"

"I wasn't a toy, Penny. I was working."

More tears fell. "That's even worse. You don't even see..." She had to stop, overwhelmed by protective fury and heartache for her friend. "They had no right to treat you that way. No right to touch you without asking, especially not after being mean to you!"

Sheldon tilted his head, genuinely puzzled by her distress. "But everyone wants something from me eventually. That's how social relationships work."

"No!" Penny reached across the table, stopping just short of touching his hand. "That's not... God, Sheldon, is that what you think friendship is? People being mean until they need something from you?"

He blinked at her tears. "You seem very emotional about this."

"Because somebody should be! Because you deserve better than people who only want you when it's convenient for them!"

Sheldon was quiet for a moment, studying her tear-streaked face with growing confusion. "You're crying... for me?"

That innocent question only made her cry harder.

"Oh dear." He carefully slid his napkin toward her. "I didn't mean to distress you."

"I'm not distressed, I'm mad!" But even as she said it, she was wiping her eyes with his offered napkin. "I'm mad at anyone who ever made you think you weren't worth basic respect and... and consent!"

"Penny..."

"No, listen to me." She took a shaky breath. "You are not a toy. You are not a... a vending machine that people get to be mean to until they want something from you. You are my best friend and you deserve so much better than that."

Sheldon sat very still, processing this. "I've upset you."

"You didn't upset me, sweetie. They did." She gave him a watery smile. "And if anyone ever tries to kiss you without asking again..."

"You'll 'go Nebraska' on them?"

"Damn right I will."

Sheldon watched another tear roll down her cheek, and something uncomfortable twisted in his chest. He didn't understand why she was so upset about things that had happened years ago, but seeing her cry - over him, for him - was somehow worse than all those unwanted kisses combined.

Before he could overthink it, he stood up and walked around the table. Penny looked up at him in confusion, her eyes still wet.

"Sheldon?"

"I find," he said carefully, "that I don't like seeing you cry. Especially not about me." Then, with movements that were only slightly stiff, he bent down and wrapped his arms around her.

Penny froze for a moment, shocked. Sheldon didn't initiate hugs. Ever. But here he was, holding her awkwardly but determinedly, trying to offer comfort in a way that was far outside his comfort zone.

"Oh, sweetie," she whispered, carefully returning the hug.

"I don't understand why this upsets you so much," he murmured against her hair. "But I don't like it. Please stop crying?"

That only made fresh tears spill over, but she managed a wobbly smile he couldn't see. "You're kind of making it worse by being so sweet."

"That seems counterproductive."

She gave a watery laugh and squeezed him gently. "Thank you, Sheldon."

"For making you cry more?"

"For being you.”