TBBT Fic: Cloudburst
Title: Cloudburst
Author: clumsyghost
Fandom: The Big Bang Theory
Pairing: Leonard / Sheldon / Leonard
Rating: PG / PG-13
Word Count: 1,501
Warnings: Fluff, established relationship
Summary: Sheldon reflects on past anniversaries.
Steady breathing. Sheldon listens to the slow intake and exhale of air, careful not to stir. One little movement could disturb his sleeping partner from his REM cycle; Leonard had the uncanny ability to sense when Sheldon was absent from bed. There was fifteen minutes left until his standard waking time; Sheldon uses those moments to mentally prepare himself for the day ahead.
For today is June third, a moment in time etched forever into his eidetic memory ever since five years ago when Leonard had joined him on the couch for a round of Friday Night Gamers’ Competition.
Five years earlier…
“Do you know what day it is?” Foolish Leonard, asking questions when he already knew the answer.
“Yes. I know the numerical date, the day of the week, what current Gregorian month, and what year we are residing in. Are you referring to anything specific?” Sheldon reached down to flip the on switch.
Leonard took the bait. “Today’s June third. What happened on June third in the past, hmmm?” One dark eyebrow rose over the top of his frames.
“The parameter of your question is not narrow enough. The best I can say is quite a number of events happened. For example, asteroid number 3767 was spotted in 1986. Mount Unzen erupted in Japan in 1991. If you are referring to earlier events, in 1921 a cloudburst killed over a hundred people in Colorado.”
Visibly disappointed, Leonard shook his head. “No! It’s our anniversary. God, Sheldon… did you really think about cloudbursts killing people rather than our relationship?”
“This relationship has no scientific impact on the universe outside of our personal lives,” Sheldon pointed out. He reached for the controller on the coffee table.
“Hmph…” Leonard grumbled over the intro music to Sith Fighters3000. Sheldon booted up his saved data only to pause in surprise.
“My rebel outposts!” Sheldon protested. Hours of strategic plotting, and now his ruthless warriors were housed in one big “I love you” message across the world map.
“Relax, I didn’t save over your original data,” Leonard smiled. Sheldon’s anger softened into mild condescension as he studied his partner’s handiwork. “I suppose this is better than receiving allergy-inducing flora. Or sappy derivative letters expressing one’s metaphorical infinite affection.”
“Er. I wouldn’t say that quite yet,” Leonard wrung his hands nervously.
“Oh, good. Yet another victim of Hallmark. I suppose you’ll insist on my tolerance for this situation?” Sheldon inquired with an unhappy frown.
“Actually, I guess technically you’re getting both the flora and the love letter. It’s not mutually exclusive. I made you a tree. A binary tree,” Leonard explained, laughing at his own joke.
Then Leonard had dragged out his creation, a four-foot laminated cutout in the form of a leafless tree. Zeros and ones covered the entire structure, giving the bizarre impression of being a Matrix movie reject.
“Oh, clever! A pun on the plant and binary code, even if this isn’t actual data structure,” Sheldon remarked, finally getting Leonard’s amusement.
The taller physicist spent the next seventeen minutes methodically typing the string of code into an online translator after Leonard refused to tell him what the tree said. Sprawled on the couch, the man watched with twinkling eyes as Sheldon’s shoulders tensed. “What’s it say?” he sang out.
Cheeks flushed pink, Sheldon’s eye began to twitch. “You…you’re a scientist! You should not be using sentimental principals over logic,” Sheldon grumbled.
Leonard smiled. “Happy anniversary, Shelly.”
The next year found the two boys in downtown Pasadena. Neither scientist was particularly thrilled about spending an undefined quantity of hours at the tourist-infested carnival, but Leonard had promised Penny they would attend. Most people would be upset that their significant other had forgotten their anniversary when making plans, but Sheldon was more concerned about the sanitary issues of the funnel cake stand. In his ever-loving impatience, Leonard had tried to distract Sheldon from the prospect of campylobacter attacks by promising to win him the stuffed Boba Fett from the tossing booth. The booth was of the Freakishly Annoying Type, in which random plastic ducks popped up right when you were sure your ball was going to sink the hole. Coupled with a mobile target, the game was a money-sucking frustration for the majority of the players. Faced against the brilliant minds of two physicists, however, the duck guards did not stand a chance.
It only took three minutes to time the event factors, argue over the calculations for the best trajectory, and cough up fifty cents for the two chances. Leonard took the ball and lined up his shot with confidence, watching the soft spherical-like “ball” sail towards the target… and bounce off the corner of the winning hole.
“I told you that a thirty-degree angle approach was insufficient. Watch and learn,” Sheldon scoffed, snatching the last ball from the shorter physicist’s hand and letting it fly. Unbelievably, the ball shot true, sailing into the hole with seconds to spare. Both the guard duck and the sleepy-looking booth attendant popped up in surprise.
A smug smile. “Thirty-one point seven degrees. I believe the colloquial term ‘in your face’ applies to this situation. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find a restroom to sanitize my hands, providing that they have paper towels in stock, which I sincerely doubt possible.”
Leonard rolled his eyes. “Get your prize first.”
“Ah, yes. The spoils of victory.” Sheldon’s eyes had stared hard at the display of brightly smiling plushies, listing aloud his reasons for rejecting each until the booth attendant was drumming his fingers impatiently. “Which mass-produced, cheap cartoon character would you prefer, Leonard?”
Confused, Leonard shook his head. “I thought you wanted the Boba Fett?”
“I did. But as you did not win the game, I am not getting it. Which do you prefer?” Sheldon repeated.
Surprised, Leonard hastily glanced at the prize board, his eyes drawn to a large white shape smushed in the bottom right corner. Huge blue anime eyes had been stitched into the lump; black thread curled the figure’s mouth into a number three turned ninety degrees. It was some sort of pillow, Leonard had realized, and inexplicably pointed towards it.
Mr. Booth Attendant plucked the stuffed object from the pile and shoved it into Leonard’s arms before Sheldon could question the pick.
The two ventured away from the game with Leonard holding his prize; Sheldon tried in vain to determine the species of the stuffed animal, but the other man was being selfish.
“Honestly, Leonard,” Sheldon sighed when his partner finally held out the object. “A cloud pillow? You turned down Boba Fett and Link for a generic… cloud pillow?”
Leonard had a sudden fascination with his shoes and all Sheldon can see is the top of his dark wavy hair. Sheldon has a hard enough time reading people’s expressions, but the task was impossible if he couldn’t even see their faces. Leonard’s shoulders are shaking, and Sheldon can’t help the confusion in his voice.
“Leonard?”
“I’m s-sorry, Sheldon. Clouds, remember? I thought about you.” Leonard was laughing, clutching the ridiculous pillow, and suddenly Sheldon understood that everything was ok.
Year three was spent at a hotel conference room, Leonard one of many dressed up scientists waiting for Dr. Cooper to begin his presentation. They had tried to celebrate earlier, but Sheldon was twitchy at the thought of the looming public speaking event, and Leonard didn’t press dinner.
After the presentation had come to an end, Leonard watched as the other scientists surrounded Dr. Cooper, commenting enthusiastically about the merits of his research. Sheldon glowed with the praise and attention, but the social interactions soon wearied his spirits. Breaking away from the crowd, Sheldon’s eyes swept across the room, gaze landing on the man in the bright red suit. Leonard’s got this weird little smile on his face, and Sheldon doesn’t know what to make of it.
“I’m proud of you,” Leonard stated huskily as Sheldon approaches. His hand reached up to flatten Sheldon’s tie, tugging the other man down instead. Sheldon obeyed without complaint, allowing Leonard to kiss him right in the middle of the conference room.
Their quadrennial anniversary fell on a workday. If Howard and Raj had thought that their playful teasing had begun to dwindle, they were presented with fresh material as Sheldon and Leonard sat their trays down on their usual cafeteria table. Each man sported a shiny black band on their left ring finger.
“Lonsdaleite,” Sheldon had explained with pride. Fragments of space, connecting the universe with the one human being who cared for him completely. Harder than any diamond, heavy to hold.
He had quickly adjusted to the ring’s presence, and no longer found the sensation strange, just as he had grew used to Leonard’s body pressing against his. Warm. Comforting. Heavy and reassuring.
Stirring groggily, the man beside him mumbles something into his pillow.
“Happy anniversary, Leonard.”
Leonard rolls over and squints up at Sheldon, his face breaking into a smile.
“Happy anniversary, Sheldon.”
Author: clumsyghost
Fandom: The Big Bang Theory
Pairing: Leonard / Sheldon / Leonard
Rating: PG / PG-13
Word Count: 1,501
Warnings: Fluff, established relationship
Summary: Sheldon reflects on past anniversaries.
Steady breathing. Sheldon listens to the slow intake and exhale of air, careful not to stir. One little movement could disturb his sleeping partner from his REM cycle; Leonard had the uncanny ability to sense when Sheldon was absent from bed. There was fifteen minutes left until his standard waking time; Sheldon uses those moments to mentally prepare himself for the day ahead.
For today is June third, a moment in time etched forever into his eidetic memory ever since five years ago when Leonard had joined him on the couch for a round of Friday Night Gamers’ Competition.
Five years earlier…
“Do you know what day it is?” Foolish Leonard, asking questions when he already knew the answer.
“Yes. I know the numerical date, the day of the week, what current Gregorian month, and what year we are residing in. Are you referring to anything specific?” Sheldon reached down to flip the on switch.
Leonard took the bait. “Today’s June third. What happened on June third in the past, hmmm?” One dark eyebrow rose over the top of his frames.
“The parameter of your question is not narrow enough. The best I can say is quite a number of events happened. For example, asteroid number 3767 was spotted in 1986. Mount Unzen erupted in Japan in 1991. If you are referring to earlier events, in 1921 a cloudburst killed over a hundred people in Colorado.”
Visibly disappointed, Leonard shook his head. “No! It’s our anniversary. God, Sheldon… did you really think about cloudbursts killing people rather than our relationship?”
“This relationship has no scientific impact on the universe outside of our personal lives,” Sheldon pointed out. He reached for the controller on the coffee table.
“Hmph…” Leonard grumbled over the intro music to Sith Fighters3000. Sheldon booted up his saved data only to pause in surprise.
“My rebel outposts!” Sheldon protested. Hours of strategic plotting, and now his ruthless warriors were housed in one big “I love you” message across the world map.
“Relax, I didn’t save over your original data,” Leonard smiled. Sheldon’s anger softened into mild condescension as he studied his partner’s handiwork. “I suppose this is better than receiving allergy-inducing flora. Or sappy derivative letters expressing one’s metaphorical infinite affection.”
“Er. I wouldn’t say that quite yet,” Leonard wrung his hands nervously.
“Oh, good. Yet another victim of Hallmark. I suppose you’ll insist on my tolerance for this situation?” Sheldon inquired with an unhappy frown.
“Actually, I guess technically you’re getting both the flora and the love letter. It’s not mutually exclusive. I made you a tree. A binary tree,” Leonard explained, laughing at his own joke.
Then Leonard had dragged out his creation, a four-foot laminated cutout in the form of a leafless tree. Zeros and ones covered the entire structure, giving the bizarre impression of being a Matrix movie reject.
“Oh, clever! A pun on the plant and binary code, even if this isn’t actual data structure,” Sheldon remarked, finally getting Leonard’s amusement.
The taller physicist spent the next seventeen minutes methodically typing the string of code into an online translator after Leonard refused to tell him what the tree said. Sprawled on the couch, the man watched with twinkling eyes as Sheldon’s shoulders tensed. “What’s it say?” he sang out.
Cheeks flushed pink, Sheldon’s eye began to twitch. “You…you’re a scientist! You should not be using sentimental principals over logic,” Sheldon grumbled.
Leonard smiled. “Happy anniversary, Shelly.”
The next year found the two boys in downtown Pasadena. Neither scientist was particularly thrilled about spending an undefined quantity of hours at the tourist-infested carnival, but Leonard had promised Penny they would attend. Most people would be upset that their significant other had forgotten their anniversary when making plans, but Sheldon was more concerned about the sanitary issues of the funnel cake stand. In his ever-loving impatience, Leonard had tried to distract Sheldon from the prospect of campylobacter attacks by promising to win him the stuffed Boba Fett from the tossing booth. The booth was of the Freakishly Annoying Type, in which random plastic ducks popped up right when you were sure your ball was going to sink the hole. Coupled with a mobile target, the game was a money-sucking frustration for the majority of the players. Faced against the brilliant minds of two physicists, however, the duck guards did not stand a chance.
It only took three minutes to time the event factors, argue over the calculations for the best trajectory, and cough up fifty cents for the two chances. Leonard took the ball and lined up his shot with confidence, watching the soft spherical-like “ball” sail towards the target… and bounce off the corner of the winning hole.
“I told you that a thirty-degree angle approach was insufficient. Watch and learn,” Sheldon scoffed, snatching the last ball from the shorter physicist’s hand and letting it fly. Unbelievably, the ball shot true, sailing into the hole with seconds to spare. Both the guard duck and the sleepy-looking booth attendant popped up in surprise.
A smug smile. “Thirty-one point seven degrees. I believe the colloquial term ‘in your face’ applies to this situation. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find a restroom to sanitize my hands, providing that they have paper towels in stock, which I sincerely doubt possible.”
Leonard rolled his eyes. “Get your prize first.”
“Ah, yes. The spoils of victory.” Sheldon’s eyes had stared hard at the display of brightly smiling plushies, listing aloud his reasons for rejecting each until the booth attendant was drumming his fingers impatiently. “Which mass-produced, cheap cartoon character would you prefer, Leonard?”
Confused, Leonard shook his head. “I thought you wanted the Boba Fett?”
“I did. But as you did not win the game, I am not getting it. Which do you prefer?” Sheldon repeated.
Surprised, Leonard hastily glanced at the prize board, his eyes drawn to a large white shape smushed in the bottom right corner. Huge blue anime eyes had been stitched into the lump; black thread curled the figure’s mouth into a number three turned ninety degrees. It was some sort of pillow, Leonard had realized, and inexplicably pointed towards it.
Mr. Booth Attendant plucked the stuffed object from the pile and shoved it into Leonard’s arms before Sheldon could question the pick.
The two ventured away from the game with Leonard holding his prize; Sheldon tried in vain to determine the species of the stuffed animal, but the other man was being selfish.
“Honestly, Leonard,” Sheldon sighed when his partner finally held out the object. “A cloud pillow? You turned down Boba Fett and Link for a generic… cloud pillow?”
Leonard had a sudden fascination with his shoes and all Sheldon can see is the top of his dark wavy hair. Sheldon has a hard enough time reading people’s expressions, but the task was impossible if he couldn’t even see their faces. Leonard’s shoulders are shaking, and Sheldon can’t help the confusion in his voice.
“Leonard?”
“I’m s-sorry, Sheldon. Clouds, remember? I thought about you.” Leonard was laughing, clutching the ridiculous pillow, and suddenly Sheldon understood that everything was ok.
Year three was spent at a hotel conference room, Leonard one of many dressed up scientists waiting for Dr. Cooper to begin his presentation. They had tried to celebrate earlier, but Sheldon was twitchy at the thought of the looming public speaking event, and Leonard didn’t press dinner.
After the presentation had come to an end, Leonard watched as the other scientists surrounded Dr. Cooper, commenting enthusiastically about the merits of his research. Sheldon glowed with the praise and attention, but the social interactions soon wearied his spirits. Breaking away from the crowd, Sheldon’s eyes swept across the room, gaze landing on the man in the bright red suit. Leonard’s got this weird little smile on his face, and Sheldon doesn’t know what to make of it.
“I’m proud of you,” Leonard stated huskily as Sheldon approaches. His hand reached up to flatten Sheldon’s tie, tugging the other man down instead. Sheldon obeyed without complaint, allowing Leonard to kiss him right in the middle of the conference room.
Their quadrennial anniversary fell on a workday. If Howard and Raj had thought that their playful teasing had begun to dwindle, they were presented with fresh material as Sheldon and Leonard sat their trays down on their usual cafeteria table. Each man sported a shiny black band on their left ring finger.
“Lonsdaleite,” Sheldon had explained with pride. Fragments of space, connecting the universe with the one human being who cared for him completely. Harder than any diamond, heavy to hold.
He had quickly adjusted to the ring’s presence, and no longer found the sensation strange, just as he had grew used to Leonard’s body pressing against his. Warm. Comforting. Heavy and reassuring.
Stirring groggily, the man beside him mumbles something into his pillow.
“Happy anniversary, Leonard.”
Leonard rolls over and squints up at Sheldon, his face breaking into a smile.
“Happy anniversary, Sheldon.”