Chapter 2: An Impulse of Heroism
Back in the apartment, Leonard was wired. He paced the living room like a caffeinated squirrel, unable to sit still. "We should invite her over! Right? As a welcome thing? Maybe lunch? That's normal, right?" He was asking them but mostly talking to himself.
Sheldon picked up the DVD case for 'Battlestar Galactica' Season Two and immediately shut down the idea. "No. Our plan is to watch the Season Two commentary track. This is a scheduled activity."
"But we've already seen the episodes," Leonard protested, his eyes drifting toward the door like he had X-ray vision.
"Commentary tracks provide director, writer, and actor perspectives—a completely different cognitive experience from the episodes themselves. They're not interchangeable." Sheldon clutched the DVD like he was defending the Constitution.
David watched this unfold like a live sitcom. He chimed in, "Leonard's got a point. Being neighborly is just good manners. You guys never invited... what was his name, Louis? The guy who used to live across the hall?"
"Exactly," Leonard seized the opening. He frowned slightly, like he was having a moral awakening. "We've failed our basic neighborly duties. This indicates we need to expand our social circles."
"My social circle is extremely broad," Sheldon declared with pride. "I have 212 friends on MySpace."
"Yeah, but you've never actually met any of them, Sheldon," Leonard shot back.
"That's precisely the advantage of online social interaction—it eliminates awkwardness, germs, and the time-wasting nature of unnecessary face-to-face contact." Sheldon saw absolutely no problem with this.
Eventually, with David's subtle backup and Leonard's persistence, Sheldon reluctantly agreed to this "social circle expansion."
Leonard took several deep breaths like he was preparing for combat and knocked on Penny's door again.
She answered, still flushed and sweaty from moving. "Hey, Leonard, what's up?"
"So, um," Leonard nervously rubbed his hands together. "We just ordered Indian food, and it's way too much... you know, moving is exhausting, and we thought... maybe you could use some fuel? I mean, if you're not busy or if you're even interested..."
"Indian food?" Penny's face lit up instantly. She rubbed her stomach. "Oh my God, you guys are lifesavers! I'm starving and these boxes are killing me! I love you guys! Absolutely! Thank you!"
Leonard hadn't expected such an enthusiastic yes. Thrilled, he quickly invited Penny into their apartment.
Before lunch started, Sheldon delivered an extensive lecture about sofa seating arrangements involving thermal efficiency, cross-ventilation angles, and optimal TV viewing geometry. He successfully convinced Penny, who'd innocently sat on the far right cushion, to vacate his "designated spot."
They laid out the food and the aroma filled the apartment.
Leonard tried making conversation to keep things light. Penny was chatty, sharing her story between bites: originally from Omaha, Nebraska, working as a waitress at the Cheesecake Factory, dreaming of making it as an actress, even writing a screenplay...
"So this script you're writing—is it based on your life?" Leonard asked curiously.
"Oh, kind of? It's about this girl from Nebraska who moves to LA to chase her dreams and ends up waiting tables." Penny waved her fork. "But I'm from Omaha, and in the script it's Lincoln. Close enough!"
Sheldon ate methodically beside them, occasionally looking up to inject "objective observations" that killed the conversation dead.
When Penny mentioned cheesecake and Leonard agreed he liked it, Sheldon immediately reminded everyone that Leonard was lactose intolerant. Leonard quickly clarified, "I don't appreciate its flavor so much as acknowledge its rational existence as a dessert concept."
But the most classic moment came when Sheldon attempted compassion.
Seeing Penny looked tired from moving, he said earnestly, "I understand moving is stressful. I've read that good food and companionship provide comfort during stress. Additionally, curry contains natural laxative properties, and I imagine I don't need to elaborate—a... well... clean colon means one less thing to worry about, correct?"
The table went silent. Leonard looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor.
David barely suppressed his laughter, shoulders shaking. Penny's eyes went wide, food frozen mid-chew, clearly shocked by this aggressively practical concern.
Leonard's later complaint was spot-on: "In the context of a lunch invitation, you probably should've skipped the bowel movement discussion!"
Overall though, lunch went pretty well.
Until Penny started explaining why she'd left Omaha for LA, and the conversation shifted to her recently ended relationship. Her mood visibly tanked.
"Four years... I was with him for four years..." She set down her fork, eyes distant. "Four years. It felt like repeating high school."
"It took you four years to finish high school?" Sheldon asked, genuinely surprised, completely missing the metaphor.
Leonard kicked him under the table.
Penny didn't notice, lost in her sadness. "...I just can't believe I trusted him so much, and he..." Her voice cracked, eyes welling up.
Leonard panicked, looking desperately at David and mouthing, "What do I say? Should I say something?"
David subtly shook his head, signaling: No, you'll make it worse.
"You want to know the worst part?" Penny looked up, tears streaming. "Even though I know he's a lying, cheating bastard, and I hate him... I... I still kind of love him. Does that make me crazy?"
"Yes," Sheldon answered immediately.
"No! Not at all!" Leonard rushed to intervene. "It's... it's a paradox! Right, a paradox! Paradoxes exist throughout nature! Think about light! Huygens said light was a wave—the double-slit experiment proved it—but then Einstein discovered light also behaves like particles... wave-particle duality, see? A perfect paradox!" In a burst of inspiration, he referenced their earlier hallway discussion about photons.
This clumsy "scientific comfort" backfired spectacularly. Penny cried harder.
"Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm such a mess..." She sniffled. "And on top of feeling terrible, I'm all gross and sweaty, and my stupid shower's broken! Today is just perfect!"
"Our shower isn't broken," Sheldon offered with literal helpfulness.
"Really?" Penny looked at them through her tears like they'd thrown her a lifeline. "Would it be... weird if I asked to use it?"
"Yes," Sheldon said.
"No!" Leonard practically shouted, glaring at Sheldon. "Not weird at all! Totally normal! It's right down the hall!"
Penny smiled gratefully and went to grab clean clothes. Leonard immediately began "emergency social training" with Sheldon, telling him to absolutely stop saying "yes" to everything.
Shortly after Penny entered the bathroom, someone knocked on the door.
Howard and Raj stood outside, Howard grinning like the Cheshire Cat, Raj looking shy but equally curious. Apparently through some channel—most likely Howard hacking the lobby security camera or Raj hearing through the grapevine—they'd learned about the beautiful woman in apartment 4A.
"Heard there's a 'rare celestial phenomenon' happening here?" Howard rubbed his hands together, trying to squeeze past.
Leonard desperately blocked the doorway. "Howard, Raj, this is really not a good time!"
While they argued, the bathroom door opened. Penny emerged wearing a simple t-shirt and shorts, wet hair draped over her shoulders, skin flushed from the hot water, radiating fresh shower scent.
She saw the commotion at the door and paused. "Um... what's happening?"
Howard's eyes went wide. He immediately shoved Leonard aside, struck what he thought was a suave pose, and said in an exaggerated French accent, "Bonjour! Enchanté, mademoiselle!"
Then he smoothly switched to English: "Howard Wolowitz, Caltech Department of Applied Physics. You may have heard of some of my work—it's currently orbiting Jupiter's largest moon taking high-resolution digital photographs."
Penny looked confused by the performance and instinctively replied, "I'm Penny. I work at the Cheesecake Factory."
"Oh! Cheesecake! A magnificent creation!" Howard's eyes lit up even brighter.
Penny thanked them again for the shower and prepared to head back to continue unpacking. Before leaving, she glanced at her empty apartment and sighed. "God, I wish my TV worked. At least there'd be some background noise so it wouldn't feel so lonely. It's because of that jerk Kurt—my TV's still at his place and he's definitely not giving it back..." She was just venting casually, her tone full of resignation.
But Leonard heard opportunity. His hero complex activated instantly. He straightened up, puffed out his chest, and practically announced, "Don't worry, Penny! We've got this! We'll go get it back for you!"