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FIC: The Star Turtle Embarkation (Chapter 1)
(Crossposted to the Sheldon_Penny LJ community at http://community.livejournal.com/sheldon_penny/173520.html)
Well, here's my first attempt at a BBT fic.
Title: The Star Turtle Embarkation – Chapter 1: A Trio Down To Two
Spoilers: None specific, but may be mild general spoilers through season two.
Rating: PG-13 (Future chapters may sneak up to R for Mildly Mucky)
Word Count: 1093 (Ch 1)
Disclaimer: The Big Bang Theory is property of Warner Brothers and CBS, Discworld is property of Terry and Lyn Pratchett. All other IP property of their respective owners, no challenge is intended or financial gain made. The story is fictional, but some of the people aren’t entirely; I’d like to say no resemblance to people living or dead is intended, but you can’t have everything.
Summary: When his other friends drop out, Sheldon is stuck taking Penny to the Discworld Convention in England. It may not be the first time Penny’s made Sheldon blue, but definitely the first time she’s been so literal about it...
A/N: Teaser takes place mid-first season; remainder late second season.
“All righty then,” said Sheldon, hitting a series of keystrokes that would send the confirmation page to both the printer and the PDF archive on his external admin drive. “It’s booked. Three tickets” – he shot a glare at Raj – “to the Discworld Convention in Birmingham, England. And Raj, I think it shows a remarkable lack of foresight, letting your sister’s wedding fall on that weekend. It’s thoughtless.”
“Please, like you’d be able to stand up to Missy if she was getting married and wanted you to attend, dude.”
Sheldon rolled his eyes.
“I would have no trouble whatever standing up to her.” He picked the sheet of inkjet paper out of the printer and blew it gently dry with the carbon dioxide duster on his desk. “Apart from anything else, if she wants me down there, it typically means she’s not here.”
He cocked his head, as though suddenly realising something.
“Speaking of which, your sister’s in Mumbai. The chances of effective retribution at that distance are slim to none.”
Raj snorted, pitching his empty takeaway carton into the bin.
“Clearly you’ve never met my sister. She makes Machiavelli look like a Care Bear.”
“He’s right, Sheldon,” Leonard chimes in from his desk. “She’s like the... the you of evil and scheming. I think she’s already got a hollow volcano sitting somewhere.”
“Hey!” Raj spun, trying for indignant. “That’s my sister you’re talking about!” But then he fidgeted awkwardly and turned back to Sheldon, who was already engrossed in his computer again. “But yes, she kind of is.”
“Fascinating.” Sheldon’s gaze never left the screen.
“Koothrappali’s sister the evil genius is fascinating?” Howard glanced up. “Are we talking, you know, anatomically?”
“Fascinating,” Sheldon clarified, “that you believe I’m still interested in the conversation.” He glanced at the credit card propped up across the F5-F8 keys and typed in the last four digits. “And while you three were uselessly digressing into whatever it was, I finalised our travel arrangements. You should prepare your suitcases and in-flight kits so you’re ready to go.”
The other three exchanged a look.
“Uh, Sheldon...” Leonard began. “The Con’s not for seven months yet.”
“Precisely. With emergency drills, packing tests and backup measures, that’s barely enough time to prepare a full preparedness plan.” He brought up a report template in Word and started typing furiously. “Six months, twenty-nine days, and three hours... Birmingham, here we come.”
* * *
Very nearly seven months later...
* * *
My work is, without doubt, important. I am humanity’s best hope for scientific advancement in any worthwhile field, but I am hampered at every turn by mediocre minds getting in the way with distractions and inanities.
In this particular instance, I was very close to a breakthrough on gluon impactors in a Bose-Einstein condensate. But my calculations were constantly interrupted by a nagging whispering from behind me.
“You’ve got to tell him.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing...”
“Leonard.”
“No, it’s fine, it can wait.”
“Tell him.”
“The distraction hasn’t got here.”
“Leonard, it’s next week.”
Good Lord, they could get shrill sometimes. I quicksaved the MathCAD file I was working on and turned around.
“I said I’m busy,” I reminded them, “not deaf. Leonard, you’ve got to tell me what?”
“Uh, I bought you that Star Trek starship art compendium you wanted. It just hasn’t got here yet.”
“Oh.” I had no recollection of any appropriate occasion, which made the putative gift-giving highly suspect. My gaze settled on the Batman cookie jar on the counter. “What is the awkward blow you’re trying... the impact of which you’re trying to soften?”
Leonard looked back at Penny, but she crossed her arms and glared at him. Curious. Had he upset her? I would have to investigate and correct his behaviour...
Even curiouser. Where had that thought come from? I started to ponder why Penny being upset bothered me, but by that point Leonard had turned back to me. He was fidgeting.
“I’m not going to the Con. Stephanie’s parents have invited me and her –”
“‘Her and me’,” I corrected him; where people were unreliable, grammar was certain and absolute.
“– us up to Portland for her uncle’s birthday. It’s a sort of family reunion thing.”
“No. That is unacceptable.”
Absurd. What possible reason would someone have to spend a week with their ‘girlfriend’ and her parents, when the alternative was an excursion to the hallowed ground of a Discworld convention?
“Uh...” Leonard frowned; whether he was recollecting or fabulating was unclear. “In return, Stephanie promised she’d arrange a full functional MRI for you when you get back. As a sort of goodwill... thing.”
I considered this. It was an acceptable gesture. But if I acceded immediately, it would train them to expect concession, so an alteration would be necessary.
“And a full blood panel, plus a voucher for three sputum cultures of my choice at a date to be determined by me in the future.” I opened a new document with a contract template and briskly typed out a few simple terms. “One week after my return at the earliest, three months after the inevitable cessation of your relationship at the latest. Do we have a contract?”
Leonard executed the downtrodden shrug that indicated that he would sooner or later accept. Sooner, in this case.
“Fine.”
“Excellent.” I hit Control-P, sending the contract to the printer. “Sign that, and initial paragraphs three, seven, eleven, thirteen and seventeen.”
He snatched the sheet of paper and signed it.
“There,” he said, with more venom than I thought necessary. “Happy?”
What did my happiness have to do with any of this? “As happy as can be expected, under the circumstances. A minor degree of digestive distress, but that can probably be explained by your cooking. But what’s that got to do with-”
“I’m going to Stephanie’s.” He picked up his car keys and opened the door.
I looked up, curious at this sudden turn.
“You will of course provide a replacement to take your spot on the trip.”
“That’s not in the contract,” he said with a frankly lupine grin. “Good night, Sheldon.”
And he had left.
It was true; I had neglected to include a clause about alternates in the contract. If only he hadn’t rushed me.
Lessons learned: correctly proofread all contracts before signing.
For now, though, I had a more important problem. I had to find someone to take Leonard’s place in the next five days. Raj would be away, Leonard had deserted, Kripke was frankly not an option, and –
“Sheldon?”
– and... Wait. She was still here?
“Penny. You’re still here.”
Comments very welcome. Incidentally, if anyone wants to help me beta the rest of the story, please drop me a line - I'm running a bit low on ideas to string the scenes together...
Well, here's my first attempt at a BBT fic.
The Star Turtle Embarkation
Title: The Star Turtle Embarkation – Chapter 1: A Trio Down To Two
Spoilers: None specific, but may be mild general spoilers through season two.
Rating: PG-13 (Future chapters may sneak up to R for Mildly Mucky)
Word Count: 1093 (Ch 1)
Disclaimer: The Big Bang Theory is property of Warner Brothers and CBS, Discworld is property of Terry and Lyn Pratchett. All other IP property of their respective owners, no challenge is intended or financial gain made. The story is fictional, but some of the people aren’t entirely; I’d like to say no resemblance to people living or dead is intended, but you can’t have everything.
Summary: When his other friends drop out, Sheldon is stuck taking Penny to the Discworld Convention in England. It may not be the first time Penny’s made Sheldon blue, but definitely the first time she’s been so literal about it...
A/N: Teaser takes place mid-first season; remainder late second season.
“All righty then,” said Sheldon, hitting a series of keystrokes that would send the confirmation page to both the printer and the PDF archive on his external admin drive. “It’s booked. Three tickets” – he shot a glare at Raj – “to the Discworld Convention in Birmingham, England. And Raj, I think it shows a remarkable lack of foresight, letting your sister’s wedding fall on that weekend. It’s thoughtless.”
“Please, like you’d be able to stand up to Missy if she was getting married and wanted you to attend, dude.”
Sheldon rolled his eyes.
“I would have no trouble whatever standing up to her.” He picked the sheet of inkjet paper out of the printer and blew it gently dry with the carbon dioxide duster on his desk. “Apart from anything else, if she wants me down there, it typically means she’s not here.”
He cocked his head, as though suddenly realising something.
“Speaking of which, your sister’s in Mumbai. The chances of effective retribution at that distance are slim to none.”
Raj snorted, pitching his empty takeaway carton into the bin.
“Clearly you’ve never met my sister. She makes Machiavelli look like a Care Bear.”
“He’s right, Sheldon,” Leonard chimes in from his desk. “She’s like the... the you of evil and scheming. I think she’s already got a hollow volcano sitting somewhere.”
“Hey!” Raj spun, trying for indignant. “That’s my sister you’re talking about!” But then he fidgeted awkwardly and turned back to Sheldon, who was already engrossed in his computer again. “But yes, she kind of is.”
“Fascinating.” Sheldon’s gaze never left the screen.
“Koothrappali’s sister the evil genius is fascinating?” Howard glanced up. “Are we talking, you know, anatomically?”
“Fascinating,” Sheldon clarified, “that you believe I’m still interested in the conversation.” He glanced at the credit card propped up across the F5-F8 keys and typed in the last four digits. “And while you three were uselessly digressing into whatever it was, I finalised our travel arrangements. You should prepare your suitcases and in-flight kits so you’re ready to go.”
The other three exchanged a look.
“Uh, Sheldon...” Leonard began. “The Con’s not for seven months yet.”
“Precisely. With emergency drills, packing tests and backup measures, that’s barely enough time to prepare a full preparedness plan.” He brought up a report template in Word and started typing furiously. “Six months, twenty-nine days, and three hours... Birmingham, here we come.”
* * *
Very nearly seven months later...
* * *
My work is, without doubt, important. I am humanity’s best hope for scientific advancement in any worthwhile field, but I am hampered at every turn by mediocre minds getting in the way with distractions and inanities.
In this particular instance, I was very close to a breakthrough on gluon impactors in a Bose-Einstein condensate. But my calculations were constantly interrupted by a nagging whispering from behind me.
“You’ve got to tell him.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s nothing...”
“Leonard.”
“No, it’s fine, it can wait.”
“Tell him.”
“The distraction hasn’t got here.”
“Leonard, it’s next week.”
Good Lord, they could get shrill sometimes. I quicksaved the MathCAD file I was working on and turned around.
“I said I’m busy,” I reminded them, “not deaf. Leonard, you’ve got to tell me what?”
“Uh, I bought you that Star Trek starship art compendium you wanted. It just hasn’t got here yet.”
“Oh.” I had no recollection of any appropriate occasion, which made the putative gift-giving highly suspect. My gaze settled on the Batman cookie jar on the counter. “What is the awkward blow you’re trying... the impact of which you’re trying to soften?”
Leonard looked back at Penny, but she crossed her arms and glared at him. Curious. Had he upset her? I would have to investigate and correct his behaviour...
Even curiouser. Where had that thought come from? I started to ponder why Penny being upset bothered me, but by that point Leonard had turned back to me. He was fidgeting.
“I’m not going to the Con. Stephanie’s parents have invited me and her –”
“‘Her and me’,” I corrected him; where people were unreliable, grammar was certain and absolute.
“– us up to Portland for her uncle’s birthday. It’s a sort of family reunion thing.”
“No. That is unacceptable.”
Absurd. What possible reason would someone have to spend a week with their ‘girlfriend’ and her parents, when the alternative was an excursion to the hallowed ground of a Discworld convention?
“Uh...” Leonard frowned; whether he was recollecting or fabulating was unclear. “In return, Stephanie promised she’d arrange a full functional MRI for you when you get back. As a sort of goodwill... thing.”
I considered this. It was an acceptable gesture. But if I acceded immediately, it would train them to expect concession, so an alteration would be necessary.
“And a full blood panel, plus a voucher for three sputum cultures of my choice at a date to be determined by me in the future.” I opened a new document with a contract template and briskly typed out a few simple terms. “One week after my return at the earliest, three months after the inevitable cessation of your relationship at the latest. Do we have a contract?”
Leonard executed the downtrodden shrug that indicated that he would sooner or later accept. Sooner, in this case.
“Fine.”
“Excellent.” I hit Control-P, sending the contract to the printer. “Sign that, and initial paragraphs three, seven, eleven, thirteen and seventeen.”
He snatched the sheet of paper and signed it.
“There,” he said, with more venom than I thought necessary. “Happy?”
What did my happiness have to do with any of this? “As happy as can be expected, under the circumstances. A minor degree of digestive distress, but that can probably be explained by your cooking. But what’s that got to do with-”
“I’m going to Stephanie’s.” He picked up his car keys and opened the door.
I looked up, curious at this sudden turn.
“You will of course provide a replacement to take your spot on the trip.”
“That’s not in the contract,” he said with a frankly lupine grin. “Good night, Sheldon.”
And he had left.
It was true; I had neglected to include a clause about alternates in the contract. If only he hadn’t rushed me.
Lessons learned: correctly proofread all contracts before signing.
For now, though, I had a more important problem. I had to find someone to take Leonard’s place in the next five days. Raj would be away, Leonard had deserted, Kripke was frankly not an option, and –
“Sheldon?”
– and... Wait. She was still here?
“Penny. You’re still here.”
Comments very welcome. Incidentally, if anyone wants to help me beta the rest of the story, please drop me a line - I'm running a bit low on ideas to string the scenes together...
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CCA
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Hmm. If Penny comes... does this mean I have a rival in the short blonde not wearing very much stakes? How will they be able to cope with the bar? the random singing? Will Howard have to be resurrected after he encounters that many corsets? (not to mention the Seamstress' Guild) Will Sheldon attempt to take over the Hedgehog race? Tune in next time, same bat-channel...
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By the way, I just posted a response to the latest Sheldon/Penny challenge. See what you think: http://community.livejournal.com/sheldon_penny/173089.html?thread=2406177#t2406177
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'Hey, how come she gets to wander around in a miniskirt and bikini and I have to wear all this armour?'
'That's Conina. Certain costumes have a 'I got there first' quality about them. For instance, no-one would dare to try doing Granny Weatherwax. She got dibs on Conina.'
'And fanbases.'
'Howard, ew.'
But go on, Howard meeting the Seamstress' Guild, you know you want to.
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O'course, she could go as Angua after transforming back to human, but that would be a whole different story.
As for Howard... you're almost tempting me to resolve his airport difficulties. Howard + DWCon Corsetry + Seamstresses... Dammit, you're right. It's too good to pass up.
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(msn and skype dislike me, they won't work on my machine)
Loud, bossy, flirty, moving at speed? Talking with a relatively posh accent but very very fast and bouncing?
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Ah, the joy of computers, eh? Well, PM me your email address and I'll send you a draft of the story when your cameo comes up. :-)
Oh, and you forgot "complaining vehemently about bad grammar". I rather enjoyed that conversation; there aren't enough people suitably rabid about SPaG. :-D
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