FIC: Make a Record of My Heart, AU [Bandverse]

Title: Make a Record of My Heart
Author: Meg / juniperlane / betternovembers
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sex, swearing, lyrics, mentions of Pitchfork.
Pairing: Penny/Sheldon
Summary: The continuing adventures of a certain lead singer, and her band. In this installment: a road trip adventure to Cincinnati.
Word Count: 7278.
Disclaimer: The Big Bang Theory and various song lyrics do not belong to me. I can promise you that.
Notes: This was supposed to be a short little story. Obviously, that did not happen. Previous knowledge is required to play in this 'verse. Read Every Chorus Was Your Name & My Love Like a Voice by allthingsholy first. Then come back. I'll wait. Endless thanks to allthingsholy for the beta, answering my completely random questions at all hours, and for letting me play in her sandbox. Additionally, many thanks to all the rest of you who had to listen to me babble about this for the past week. Your patience is inspiring and much appreciated.



Even though they haven't been on the bus in months, Penny's always still slightly surprised every time she wakes up in an actual bed, a flat steady surface that doesn't shudder and lurch with every turn and pothole. She wakes up confused and with a decent head start into hangover territory, and somewhere there is a phone ringing. Her face is pressed against Sheldon's bare back, and she tries to wipe her hand across where she's drooled on him. It's best to avoid his lectures before she's even seen coffee, let alone ingested it.

“Sheldon,” she mumbles. “Make it stop.”

“It's your phone, Penny.” He doesn't budge.

“You're closer.”

Sheldon huffs, but props himself up on an elbow and reaches over to his bedside table. He nabs her phone and passes it back over his shoulder, and promptly collapses back against the pillows. Penny has to blink a few times before she's able to recognize the photo on the caller ID, and she settles her forehead against Sheldon's shoulder as she touches the screen to answer.

“Bernadette. You know the rules.”

Bernadette's voice is cheery and far too loud. Even Sheldon moans a little when she starts talking, and he's not the one with the phone pressed to his ear. Penny is convinced her eardrum will never recover.

“First off, Penny, it is after noon on a Tuesday, and you are a lazy asshole, and absolutely zero rules have been violated. Secondly, since I can assume you are still in bed, that means you have yet to check the band email today?”

There's only one person not actually in the band who has access to the band email account, and that's Bernadette. She manages to take care of a lot of the shit Penny doesn't want to touch with a ten foot pole, but it's just good to have someone else checking it when they're out on the road, and she forgets or the signal sucks or she simply doesn't have the time.

“No, Bernadette, I haven't. We had a late rehearsal.”

“And by 'late rehearsal' you mean, you guys had a normal rehearsal that turned into a drunken Wii Bowling session?”

Penny would laugh if her head wasn't so fuzzy. “Yeah, pretty much.” All she really needs is a cup of coffee, and she'll be fine. She scoots back on the bed a little so she can bring her left hand up to nudge at Sheldon. All he does in response is grunt, and dig his shoulder under his pillow a little bit more.

“Hold on a second, I just want to-” she takes the phone off of her ear and presses it to her chest. “Sheldon. Sheldon. Coffee? Please? And maybe bring the Advil in here while you're up?”

He turns his head just enough so he can see her out of the corner of his eye, and she gives him a pleading look (he's immune to it, but she still does it anyway, out of habit).

“Your addiction to caffeine is troubling,” he says matter-of-factly, but he's already swinging his legs off the bed. He can be pretty perfect sometimes.

Penny rolls over into the middle of the bed and brings the phone back up to her ear, and rubs at her eyes with her free hand. She's already feeling a bit more human, but she really needs to learn that every time she tries to match Sheldon drink for drink, she's always the one that loses.

“All right, what was so important, Bernadette?”

“Remember when we submitted all those CDs and press kits to some media, like, oh, Pitchfork and Stereogum and all the places we could only dream about getting the band featured?”

“Yeah,” Penny drags out the word. Pitchfork actually terrifies Penny, because it can make or break you, and she's not sure their last CD is good enough to escape with a decent rating. Plus, it's pretty much full of hipster bullshit, and that's not really what they're about at all. They're a little too earnest for Pitchfork, is what it comes down to.

Bernadette hears the hesitation in her voice. “Oh, it's not Pitchfork, don't freak out. It's good news, Penny. Good news.”

“Okay, so who reviewed us?”

“We're not getting a review. It's an interview request.”

“Bernadette, if you don't tell me in the next ten seconds who the hell it's with, I am going to reach through this phone and throttle you.”

“WOXY. You're going to be on WOXY. The whole lounge act thing in Cincinnati and everything.”

She can hear Sheldon running the water in the kitchen to make coffee, the thump of the cupboard doors and the clink of mugs. He's probably making tea for himself. She wants to call out his name, for him to run in here and tackle her to the bed in joy when he finds out, but that's not him. So she takes a second to savor the moment herself, to remember how far she's come from Nebraskan farmlands, how she's swapped out the calluses from helping her dad with the combine to ones from steel guitar strings.

"Are you still there?" Bernadette sounds confused, but still pretty happy. Like she wants to say, this is exciting, why aren't you fucking excited? She helps them out a lot, mostly for free, although they always try to swing her a few extra bucks when they can afford it. Penny likes having another female presence around to balance out the boys. Penny's been plotting to set her up with Howard for awhile now; she's seen the way the two of them hole up in a corner of the bar after shows, or their heads bent together behind the merch table. But Penny loves how Bernadette frequently seems more pumped about good news than the band. She needs a cheerleader, some days.

"Yeah, still here. Just letting it sink in."

WOXY means more ears for their music, opening doors, blog mentions and hipsters telling their friends to illegally download their last album. More buzz, more people knowing their name, until the right person happens to hear it. WOXY is something the band can namedrop without feeling like pretentious douchebags. God, they could even get some little stickers made for the album that they're going to record in a few months. As heard on WOXY.com: The Future of Rock and Roll. She likes the sound of that.

Bernadette is talking again, and Penny stops daydreaming to tune back in for the details they have so far. "Well, they want you pretty soon. Early next month. Looks like someone else they had booked had to change some tour dates around, and had to reschedule, and we were next on the list, so."

It's too early to start thinking about all the work that's going to have to go into planning a trip to Cincinnati—they'll have to book some shows out on that side of the country if they can manage it, to try and break even. Going back out on the road, maybe testing out some of the new songs. The excitement is starting to coil in her stomach.

"Can you do me a favor? Start looking at a map, maybe work up a list of cities around there that we could manage to dig up some last minute venues? I'll call Greg in a while, see if he knows anyone heading out in that direction that needs an opener. We'll start trying to cover all the bases."

"Okay, sure. How far East are you willing to go?"

"I don't know yet. I'll have to talk it over with the guys."

"So, just brainstorming at this point?"

"Yeah, exactly. Hey, do you think you could swing time off at work, come out there with us?"

"You know the Factory. Unless I'm dead, I'd better be there."

"Well, if you can make it happen—"

"Yeah. Maybe one of these days. All right, I'll let you get back to—oh wait, absolutely nothing. Let me know what you find out from Greg."

"I'll email you once I know anything. I'll email WOXY to let them know we're in, we're just working out the details."

"Sounds like a plan. I'll talk to you later."

"Thanks, kid." She reaches over and puts the phone back on Sheldon's night stand, and sinks back into the pillows. She can feel her smile stretch every muscle on her face. She feels like she could burst.

It's another minute before Sheldon walks back into his bedroom, holding her coffee and sipping at his tea. It pains her to put off the coffee intake any further, but the news trumps her need to mainline some caffeine.

"Come here," she tells him, gesturing with one hand to put the mugs down on the night stand. He crawls back into bed, and permits her to wrap herself back around him. He curls his arm around her shoulders.

"What did Bernadette have to say?" Penny tries to stay focused, not get distracted by his morning voice, which is rough around the edges, his accent coming out when he isn't awake enough to hide it deep down under aloof, finicky syllables.

"We... have an interview."

He mm-hmms, and she can feel it in his chest under her ear. She's sort of in love with him.

"WOXY. Lounge Act."

She feels the vaguest hint of a physical reaction, but he controls himself pretty well.

"We should call Leonard." He pauses. "And Rajesh and Howard. We're going to have to clear schedules."

"Sheldon, it can wait an hour. Can't we just be happy for ourselves for a little bit first?"

"I suppose they are most likely still asleep."

"It's fine." She swings her leg over his thigh, tucks her hand around his side, and takes his nipple in between her teeth and bites, with the exact amount of pressure he likes.

"Oh," Sheldon says. "I see."







Penny remembers the first time she got on the bus, and the way she tried to fill it up with chatter as they drove off to their first tour date. Now, it's an old friend: she knows who caused all the stains, she's responsible for most of the digs on the little counter that serves as their kitchen from where she's popped the caps off of beers for her and the boys when they can't find a church key, and the vague smell of stale sweat and beer and greasy food is actually vaguely comforting instead of disgusting.

The boys seem almost as relieved as she is, and they all settle into their usual seats, with Leonard taking the first shift at the wheel. Sheldon carefully settles into his spot and strokes the arm rests, presses his back against the cushion and stretches his long legs out as much as he can. Penny watches a small grin pass over his face before he's back to his usual appearance of complete indifference.

She curls up next to him and puts her head on her knees, and tries to remember all the times she sat here watching Sheldon trying to write his song, in the days before everything settled into place. Before she kissed him in Detroit. It seems like a lifetime ago.

They've got a solid two day drive ahead of them, straight up I-40 for what feels like forever before they even come close to Ohio, but no one minds it. They're all used to the routines of drive-thrus and battles over radio control, trying to sleep in the bunks and on crappy hotel beds, weaving like a drunk person in the narrow aisle on the bus, the stupid bullshit conversations at 3 AM after a gig that always seem deep and meaningful.

Penny sort of zones out until they hit I-15, half-watching Sheldon and half-watching the scenery out their window. It's when Leonard has finally had enough and glances back at them, all sitting quietly in their own little worlds, and harrumphs with annoyance. "What the hell are you people doing back there? Why is everyone so quiet?" Penny shrugs, and Sheldon doesn't even glance up from the notebook he's looking at. Leonard grabs his iPhone and flicks through his music until he hits the song he's looking for. "Obviously, there is only one solution to this morale issue."

He pushes play and cranks the volume dial, and glances back at them with a shit-eating grin when they all realize what he's put on. Penny always lets Howard sing the first few lines, and he does them with his usual gusto and general tone-deafness. But it's a band rule (she made Sheldon put it in the touring behavior contract for this go-round, section 21.B.VI) that everyone has to sing along on the chorus, even Sheldon.

I'm a lot like you so please
Hello, I'm here, I'm waiting
I think I'd be good for you
And you'd be good for me

She always gets in his face in the chorus, because secretly, she sort of thinks of it as a little theme song for the two of them. She catches him tapping his foot, and pretends not to notice, for his sake. It's become their own little language, this back and forth of her and Sheldon, him giving the tiniest sign he's secretly loving whatever she's forcing him into, her catching it and saying nothing. Penny likes to think of it as expanding his horizons.

How stupid is it? Rivers Cuomo asks. I gotta sing about it, and make a record of my heart. Penny presses her forehead to Sheldon's shoulder, and wraps a hand around his bony elbow, right above where he's got his sleeve tidily rolled up. He closes his notebook with his free hand, turns his head, and she can feel the barest hint of his lips on her forehead. She watches from the corner of her eye as Sheldon reaches over with his right hand and plays along with the chorus, imaginary notes against her thigh. Sheldon's composing in his mind, adapting the guitar line, adding a series of notes Penny would know anywhere. It's her melody, from Detroit, the one she hummed for days on end until Sheldon solved it - he changes the tempo so it works, but still, it's there. His fingers mark her from knee to hip, and she hears every note perfectly in her head.

She has a pretty good feeling about this trip.

Outside, California is fading behind them. They will eat up the miles of road ahead, arrive sleep-deprived and punchy and excited, and Penny can't wait.







“Penny,” Sheldon hisses. “Your gum.”

Her headphones are already on; the guy in the booth (and how unprofessional is it that she has already forgotten his name) is currently ass-up under the control board patching wires, and she's too antsy to bring the fact that she's forgotten to spit out her goddamn gum to his attention. She doesn't want to swallow it either, and there's no trash can in sight. So she does the only thing she can think of. She spits it out into her palm and surreptitiously sticks her hand under the end of Sheldon's keyboard.

Sheldon's eyes are wide and horrified, and even Leonard looks pretty grossed out. She shrugs, then glances back at the booth. The guy's got his back to them as he's finally waving to Howard to get his levels over in the drum room. She gives Sheldon a smile that she hopes he manages to interpret successfully as: I know I have just pushed every button that you have, but you will not say anything because we are about to go live on the air and you will not fuck this up by going on one of your rampages.

Sheldon looks as if he's just been informed the zombie apocalypse has started—half shell-shocked, half ready to go into a battle frenzy. Penny's actually starting to feel a little nervous, that Sheldon's going to short circuit before the interview even starts, until the guy—Evan, Evan! Oh, thank god—calls his name for levels, and Sheldon's head reluctantly swivels to the mic in front of him.

She's totally counting this one as a victory, not that she's keeping score or anything. When she turns to look at Leonard, he pretends to be tuning the Gibson with the reluctant B-string, even though he's already restrung it this morning and tuned it like twelve times since he took the damn thing out of its case.

Raj gives her a thumbs up though. Thank god for him, too. Sometimes, she feels like Raj is the only one who really gets the way her brain works.

Sheldon doesn't soundcheck like the rest of them, with their one-two, one-two, check, check, checks that drive all sound guys insane. He likes to recite passages from memory, and Penny knows he's a little nervous and off his game when he's back to his old standby of the Star Trek intro spiel.

A click in her right ear, then Evan's voice, “All right, Sheldon, I've got you. Can I get all of you to just run through something? We'll make sure everyone's got the right levels in their headsets, you know the drill. Shout out what you need.”

“Sure, Evan,” she says into her microphone, then, as a peace offering, “Sheldon, why don't you pick?”

It seems to do the trick in getting both feet back underneath him. His lips disappear into one of those thin, tight smiles that she always translates into “It's on, bitch.” And then he launches into "You Belong With Me," which he knows she can't stand playing, the bastard. He watches her for a reaction, but she keeps her smile firmly in place and strums along, and tries to put a little extra kick into the lyrics, really plays up the twang. It's just soundcheck, and she reminds herself – it's soundcheck for WOXY. She makes sure she can hear everything clearly, skips a couple of lines when she asks for more of Sheldon's keys, and everyone else is pretty much all set. The band trails off before the chorus, and Evan is telling them they've got a minute or two, and then they'll be starting, so Penny spins on her heel and keeps playing the chords, and sings the words right at Sheldon.

If you could see that I'm the one that understands you
Been here all along, so why can't you see you belong with me?

God, she really hates this song (actually she hates everything about Taylor Swift), but Sheldon loves pulling this cover out when she's giving him a hard time. She strums a funny little pattern on the last D chord, then blows Sheldon a kiss while she takes off the capo and checks one last time that she's in tune. It's business time.

Penny: 2, Sheldon: 0, she thinks. Fuck it. She totally will keep score, and so far she is kicking ass.



The first song goes well—they're playing clean, tight, everything locked into place. Now that the recording light is on, all the joking around and nerves have been erased, and they're down to playing some songs, just like always. Usually she likes to watch the boys, keep an eye on Leonard for the chord changes, smirk at Raj to keep him on his toes—but "Block the Light" is one of her favorites off the last album. She closes her eyes, tries to pour everything she has into the line that goes "you are what I've been waiting for." Her voice cracks a little at the height of the chorus, but it's in a good way, and she knows she's nailing it. Raj is keeping his vocals restrained, letting her do all the heavy lifting, letting her open up and take the song to a place she's never really gone before. When the song ends, she finally opens her eyes and discovers Sheldon, Raj, and Leonard looking at her with something she would almost classify as wonder.

Sheldon nods at her once, and that's probably the only comment she'll get from him on this performance, but it's enough. It's always enough.

They do the interviews right there, with their instruments, and Penny tries to keep her hands still on her guitar. She tries to remember there's a webcam pointed at them, and people are watching her every move. It's not that she's nervous, exactly, but she wants to look relaxed and confident—even if she's not quite there yet. Although Evan is helping in that regard: his questions are good ones, and he banters with them easily about their songs, touring life, what they want to accomplish as a band, and bullshit sort of stuff too, like who snores (which, of course, leads to the boys piling on her, and Sheldon trying to diagnose her with sleep apnea on the air). Penny's secretly impressed Howard is behaving himself, especially without the rest of the band in the room to glare at him every time he opens his mouth to answer a question. The last time they had a radio interview, it had been on a fairly well-known morning talk show out in San Diego, and Howard had actually uttered the words “hanging brain” live on the air. To say that the band would never be invited back on that program would be a safe bet. So far this time though, Howard's kept it clean, family-friendly even.

Leonard and Raj get into an overly complicated technical explanation of some guitar effect with Evan, and then Leonard's babbling happily about his influences, Echo and the Bunnymen, The Edge, the big anthemic rock sounds from the '80s and more modern, melodic guitar parts like Interpol, and he's in his corner, stomping on pedals and sampling just what he can do with his guitar.

“And what about you, Penny?” Evan totally just caught her tuning out and fingering the chords to the next song, and she struggles to remember what the boys were just discussing. Fortunately, Evan realizes she's a little lost. “We know Sheldon has a classical background, with a lot of time on the symphony circuit in his younger days, but I mean, I don't think I have as much of a read on you. You answered an ad for a lead singer on a bulletin board? Where were you coming from musically when you joined the band?”

“Yeah, it was an ad, that's how I ended up with these guys, but I grew up on a farm in Nebraska, originally—so I think I'm coming from a pretty different place, although, I mean, we're all over the place really. Sheldon with the classical, Leonard bringing the East Coast indie vibe, Howard and his classic rock influences, Raj bringing a lot of world music into the band. For me, it was a lot of country, a lot of roots music growing up, a little gospel too. I didn't really even get into pop music until high school, I guess?”

“And who are your biggest influences now? In soundcheck, you guys were playing a little Taylor Swift here—”

“Evan! You'll ruin our reputation!” She laughs, “Not that we don't do enough of a job of that ourselves. We like to cover some pretty—well, I think most people would call them 'guilty pleasure' songs, we'll leave it at that.”

Raj butts in, baiting her, “Oh Penny, admit it, you love covering Lady Gaga.”

“The girl can write some pop songs, is all I'm saying!” Penny says while Evan is busy making disgusted faces in the booth. “Oh hush,” she tells him. “Can the people on the internet see you, Evan? Or can they only see us? If you can't, he's—oh, he's pretending to vomit right now. Lovely, Evan. You want me to tell you all my indie street cred bands? Will that make you love me again?”

“Yes, please, save us from the Gaga!” he pleads, only half-joking from what Penny can tell.

“Well, Leonard's been trying to get me to listen to a lot of the Canadian bands off of the—” she racks her brain, but she can't remember the name of the label to save her life right now.

“Arts and Crafts,” Leonard supplies, looking pleased.

“Right! Thank you, the Arts and Crafts label. You know, Stars, Metric, Broken Social Scene, that whole crew.”

Evan sighs in relief. “Some names WOXY listeners should be familiar with.”

“Plus, from what I hear, the Canadian government is all, 'Oh, eh, here's some money, go make a record.' I mean, the government really considers their music art, which I think is so fantastic, but I would love support like that. It's a little hard not to be jealous, or to threaten the band with a plan to move to Canada and become citizens so we get funding like that.”

Raj is shaking his head at her.

“You have something to add, Raj?” she asks, an eyebrow cocked.

“I vote no Canada. Indian people don't like the cold. There's a reason why I moved to California.”

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he's about to give her the finger back when he remembers about the webcam. Busted.

Evan chuckles. “All right, before we get too off topic here, we've got you down for another song. And you told me it's going to be a new one?”

“Yes,” Penny nods, then glances back to Sheldon to make sure he's ready to go. This one is really all them, and she's glad the rest of the boys didn't mind her adding it to their tiny set list. “Come on, Evan, we had to bring WOXY something special.”

Evan's voice slides into his real DJ voice, and he intones, “And here's a brand new one from Jupiter Logic: "Silver Road," coming to you live from the Lounge on WOXY.com.”

Howard counts it off, and the click-click-click of his drumsticks instantly settles whatever nerves she has about playing this song before it's one hundred percent. The chords are easy enough, F, C, A minor, C, and the intro is just her and her guitar, until Sheldon comes in to provide the bass notes in the first verse. She already loves this song, and she knows a few things will end up being changed at the recording studio (it always happens – the lyrics need tightening, maybe extending Leonard's solo) but it's already sounding like something great—transcendent even. At least to her. It's probably the best thing she's written so far this summer.

Sheldon takes over on the chorus, and she sings harmony. Their voices weave around each other, and on the third line – the slight pause, the kick drum, and there's the rest of band coming in to fill out the spaces in between her guitar and Sheldon's keys. Leonard's making those chimey guitar sounds he's so obsessed with—clear, ringing notes an octave above them all. Raj is laying down a steady beat, leaning into the mic every time he joins her on the oohs, and she's got the sound of Howard's cymbals on the eights in her ear.

Leonard catches her eye and nods. He knows to take over on the chords during the next chorus, and he knows Penny always double-checks to make sure he remembers. She's done with her guitar part already, so she slides hers around on her back and grabs the mic with both hands. She mugs for the webcam a little, puts a little extra swing into her hips as she moves with the song. She's got two more lines until the bridge, and she's used to being next to Sheldon when they tackle it. She makes the executive decision it's fine to take the mic off the stand—even though she hasn't cleared it with Evan (after she does it, she waits and watches for a second for a reaction for him, but he's still nodding along watching the levels on the board, so awesome).

She gets right beside Sheldon at his keyboard, puts a hand on his back, and waits for the band to build up to the bridge, and then for everything to drop out except his keys. She can feel the way his muscles tense and relax with every movement under her hand, under his shirts, and once again she is grateful for his solid, steady presence. They sing the bridge together, and she swings her guitar around so she can stand back to back with him, and she leans her weight against him. He bears it easily, and doesn't miss a note. This is totally her new favorite song.

The rest of their time in the lounge, Penny tries to capture the tiny moments—she'll get a tape of everything later, but it's the shit like Raj jumping up and down when they mash-up "You Make My Dreams" into their last song, and watching Evan snap his fingers along in the booth that she wants to remember forever. "Listen to this!" she calls out. Leonard's bobbing his head back and forth, and when he hits her favorite part, when he has the quick up/down strokes before the second chorus, he grins right at her, and she bursts right back into their song, the band right there with her.

The second half of the interview is shorter, and she plugs the upcoming shows. They're testing out the East Coast for the first time, mostly sticking to the Mid-Atlantic. They've managed to find some local acts to play with, mostly due to Bernadette trolling Myspace and going through friends of friends of Greg. None of them pay very well, but if they play their cards right, they should just break even. Penny knows they'd do it even if they were losing money. They can't afford to pass up the sort of exposure that WOXY will get them.

"One last question for all of you," Evan promises, "then you shall be released from our clutches."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure it's more like, 'If you don't leave when we tell you to, we'll be forced to call security.'" Penny jokes. "We could stay here forever, if we didn't have a show tomorrow night."

"Well, you've got the six shows coming up this next week-and-a-half, but you also toured for a few months last spring. Favorite place you've played so far?"

"Detroit," Sheldon supplies, almost instantly, even though he's been pretty quiet this entire time. Sometimes he'll run over an interviewer if he thinks they're getting bad questions, or if Penny's getting hit on too much, but he tends to sit back and let Penny take the lead if he thinks it's going well. Penny glances back at him, a little surprised, and he stares back at her with a strange intensity she's not quite sure how to decipher.

The rest of the boys say Kansas City, which makes sense. Their last show was their best, and it all came together so perfectly. And Sheldon, with his song. She's really surprised he's picked Detroit, even if it's because of the kiss (she thinks it's because of the kiss—it is really the only logical reason for him to pick Detroit, since the actual show for him was a mess).

"How about you, Penny?" Evan's voice drags her out of her mental wanderings.

"I might have to go with Detroit, too. Don't get me wrong, there's nothing like playing for a hometown crowd back in California, and that last show in Kansas City was amazing. But Detroit was the turning point for that tour, I think." She catches Sheldon trying to hide a smile out of the corner of her eye. "It might not have been the best show, technically. But sometimes the most important thing is getting on the bus, feeling good about what just happened."

If Evan's wondering why she can't quite wipe the grin off her face, he doesn't show it. He starts into his final speech about the band, where to find them online and buy the music, reminding the listeners about their tour dates, and Penny listens just enough to know when to say thank you at the end of it. She's more focused on Sheldon, who's suddenly fascinated by the dials on the top of his keyboard. Her stomach feels like it's floating up near her chest, and at this point, she can't even tell if its from him or from the interview. Maybe a little of both.





After that, things wrap up pretty quickly. They record some bumpers for Evan, so he can use them on the site and for the WOXY app (Leonard takes out his iPhone to prove he's got it downloaded and he uses it). A photographer has been wandering around the whole time, although Penny didn't even notice the guy in the booth with them, taking photos. They pose outside the doors to the band room, arms around each other's shoulders, her in the middle between Raj and Sheldon. Usually she tries to look serious, or some version of bad ass in photos, but this time she can't help smiling.

Load-out is usually her least favorite part, since most times after the shows, it's already after midnight, and she's tired and wrung out from being on for so long. This time though, she gets her stuff taken care of and then goes to help Raj with his amp and pedal board, when Sheldon tchs at her.

"Can I help you, Sheldon?"

"I believe you left something of yours on my keyboard, Penny."

Oh, right. The gum. She walks over, and winks at Sheldon while she pries the gum off the underside of his Nord and sticks it back in her mouth. It's a little... well, firm would be an understatement, but she muscles it into something chewable while he watches, one hand coming up to cover his face in pure, unadulterated revulsion.

Three-zip. Game, set, match.






They all seem to be a weird mix of giddy and exhausted when they get back on the bus. Evan had invited them out to a little diner around the corner, and they had piled into a booth and ordered beers and breakfast for dinner. Raj is a sweetheart and had volunteered to take most of the drive to the hotel where they're staying before they continue on to make the first show of the tour in Richmond. Penny told him she'd take the back third of the drive to Roanoke though, so she's only got about four hours to crash while Raj gets them across most of West Virginia. Leonard and Howard settle themselves up front near Raj, and they both seem pretty wired, talking over the interview and what went right, what they could have worked on more, all the good one liners that are still making them laugh.

Sheldon's already collapsed in his spot and she goes over to him, leans one knee on her seat, and threads her fingers into the hair on the back of his head. She can feel the slightest hint of pressure as he leans into it. He looks up at her, and she tilts her head in the direction of the bunks, the question obvious.

Howard is watching the entire thing with an interest that she would find creepy if she didn't know him so well. When Sheldon gets up and makes his way to the back, Howard grins and nudges Leonard. He makes a circle with his first finger and thumb on his left hand, and is just about to use the finger on his right to complete the gesture, when suddenly Penny is just there with his finger clenched tight in her fist. Howard's mouth is a perfect “O” of shock. Leonard is struggling not to laugh, and he watches her with one raised eyebrow.

“Don't think you can't be replaced by a drum machine, Howard Wolowitz. Are we clear?”

He nods furiously. “Very.”

Penny releases him, and he shakes his hand out and gives her a look of bemused respect.

“All right then.” She turns and heads back to the bunks, and when she hears Howard and Leonard trying to hold in a new round of laughter, she lets them have it. She's smirking a little herself.

Sheldon's already curled up in her bunk when she gets back there, his legs folded awkwardly and resting against the wall. She slides in and pulls the curtain closed, then reaches over his head to flip on her little lamp. They're bathed in blue light that flickers with every bump of the road. There are shadows across Sheldon's face, and she adds to them as she leans down and kisses him softly.

There's a sudden increase in the music's volume from the front of the bus, and she sends a mental note of thanks to Raj. Sheldon's warm and pliant, and she rests her hand underneath the waistband of his corduroys, where his hip bone juts out and is sharp against her palm.

"You were good today," she tells him. She trails her lips under his jaw, where the first signs of stubble are growing. "Sorry about the gum."

"Please, don't remind me of - Penny, I have seen you do a lot of things I consider disgusting, but today you may have broken all previous records."

She snorts, sweeps her fingers across his hip, then up near his belly button, and he shifts closer, just by an inch or two. She kisses the point of his chin, then angles her face up and licks at his bottom lip. "I'll try and let that one stand, then."

"I would truly prefer that I never am forced to see the heights of your unsanitary behavior."

"Oh you know me, Sheldon, I dream big." It's her favorite kind of back and forth bickering with him, when they riff off one another. They're both drowsy and content, and for the first time, even though the bunk is cramped and far too tiny for the two of them, she finds it completely comfortable.

His hand strays to her waist, and his fingers are working at the button on jeans. An easy job for him, one he's done many times before, and he starts in on the zipper.

"Sheldon Cooper," she says in a voice that most definitely does not quaver when his hand starts to push her jeans off her hips, "did you or did you not put in a clause about sex on the bus?"

"I did," he replies, as she lifts her ass off the bed to make things easier.

"And if I recall, that clause expressly forbid any - and you know how I feel about this word, Sheldon - 'coitus' on said bus, correct?"

One finger curls in around the elastic of her panties. "You actually read the contract." He sounds pleased, and she's rewarded with one slow stroke of his finger against her clit.

"Of course I did. I have a copy in my suitcase, even." She reaches down and manages to skim her underwear to her knees, far enough down that she can get one foot through, and there, oh, Sheldon takes full advantage of the fact that she can now spread her legs unimpeded.

He slides his finger into her, and it's only been a couple of days, since the night before they left California, but even that's too long. She buries her face at the junction of his neck and shoulder, and bites at his collarbone through his shirt in an attempt to stay - well, at least reasonably quiet.

"You know-" Penny says into his neck, feeling his pulse race, "you know, I think you like breaking the rules just as much as the rest of us."

For that she gets another finger, pressed in tightly against the first, and she sighs with pleasure.

She knows she's not his first (he's, well—obviously not hers), but it's never been something they've talked about. Leonard's mentioned a nameless girl that Sheldon brought up one night when he was knock-down drunk, before she even knew them, but Leonard doesn't have any of the details beyond his suspicion it's someone Sheldon knew in Germany. Still, she has to wonder, when Sheldon does this thing with his fingers, a little twist and slide and it's certainly nothing she's ever taught him to do but Jesus, it does the trick every time, and then he's got his thumb on her clit and she feels her back start to arch. The pressure builds behind her belly button, and that train of thought disappears entirely, as everything is reduced to the points of contact between the two of them.

It doesn't take long after that, and Sheldon kisses her earlobe, her temple, the corner of her mouth while she comes.

When she finally opens her eyes, he puts his lips to her ear, and murmurs, "We should try and sleep now, while we can. You have to drive in a few hours. I'll keep you company."

She can tell just by the look on his face that he doesn't want reciprocation right now, and he's quick to tuck her neatly against his chest. She's far away enough from the edge of the bunk that she's pretty sure the chances of her falling half-naked onto the bus floor is at least drastically reduced, although still possible. He reaches up to click her lamp off, then wraps his arm around her. His knees press into her calves, and she digs a little closer in. He's hard, and he's languidly licking a line up the back of her neck, and—really, Sheldon—none of this is conducive to sleeping. But they don't really have enough room in here to do what she wants to do, to have him press her face down into the pillows and slip in between her thighs. It can wait for the hotel, a real bed (hopefully with a headboard and sturdy springs). Sheldon's breathing is already evening out, the steady pressure of his arm across her chest growing slack and heavy.

The bus begins a slow, steady ascent—she can feel the engine straining to maintain its steady, reliable 55 miles per hour. Each shudder presses the two of them a little closer. Penny knows nothing's going to happen overnight, that this WOXY thing isn't going to break them, they won't suddenly be opening for U2 on a stadium tour. She's not going to wake up the lead singer of a massively successful band, signed to a major label, about to have a platinum record—but she sang well today, she put everything she had into those three songs that are supposed to represent them as a band. It's been a pretty good day's work, and it's another step in the right direction. And, she thinks as she drifts off to sleep, some days that's all you can hope for.