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The Stairwell Postulate	By : Keen Category: 1 through F > The Big Bang Theory Views: 10098 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Guess what….I don’t own The Big Bang Theory! Shocker, I know. But I wrote this and created the characters not of the show. And I make no money, so they have no reason to sue me. Right? Right.

Chapter List
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            “How do I look?”
            Deirdre turned and faced her partner
as he fidgeted with his collar. She smacked his hands away and undid the first
three buttons, laying the soft blue collars against the lapels of his jacket.
Stepping back to take him in with her eyes, Deirdre found she was getting
jealous.
            They both came fresh off a double
shift, running on fumes and whatever gelatinous black ooze was left in the
coffee maker and yet he looked like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine. She
on the other hand, looked like she just came off a thirty six hour day, running
on fumes and mystery coffee.
            She stopped grooming him to run a
hand over her own hair, pulling what was a nicely styled do at the day’s start
into a decent looking ponytail. “You look good, Fe. Where are your flowers?”
            “I didn’t bother. I figure I’m
present enough.”
            “You cheap bastard,” she tsked. “Did you even think to bring a present for her
friend?”
            “Did you?” he asked accusingly,
marching up the steps. He groaned seeing her flash a bottle of wine, a shining
and multi-looped bow attached to its neck. “When did you get that?”
            “Off a wino on
sixth. Fortunately it was still corked so all I had to do was add the
bow.”
            “And that came from?”
            “Peggy,” she said, sprinting ahead
of him.
            “Of course…” Peggy, the dispatch
officer who decorated her desk with kittens that said ‘hang in there’ and troll
dolls. Felix flashed a grin, “I should have known.”
            “Yes you should have.”

            Deirdre paused as she set foot
inside the bar. Quiz’s was a clean and futuristic looking place. It had
gleaming chrome bars everywhere, long panels of glass that bubbled water
illuminated with coloured lamps. The plastic chairs were stylised after
something in the Jetsons and the tables silver topped
and martini glass shaped. She started to weave her way through the maze of
people and furniture when the bartender shouted out a ‘hey.’
            “You can’t bring that in here,” he
said pointing to the bottle in her hand.
            “It’s for the birthday boy,” she
yelled back, straining to be heard over the thumping music.
            “Oh, you’re with the Hofstadter
party?” she nodded and he motioned with his thumb over his shoulder. “In the back.”
            Felix and Deirdre nodded their heads
in appreciation and moved toward the double doors in the far wall. Felix walked
through first and was greeted with a loud but happy squeal.
            “You made it!” Penny beamed, her
arms outstretched. They where horribly late, missing the ‘surprise’ of the
surprise party by two hours, but all seemed forgiven—perhaps overly so? Penny
flung her arms around the muscularly built detective with a squee.
            Felix, for his part, was surprised
she was so happy to see him but didn’t question it. He hugged the woman back,
lifting her from the floor easily and hefting her against his broad chest. At
his side, Deirdre hunched slightly, blinking as she moved her jaw to pop ease
her suddenly ringing ears.
            Penny’s squealing became
overwhelmingly louder as he lifted her up. If she was trying to get everyone’s
attention, it worked. All eyes shifted to them and a few bodies started over to
where they stood, including one curious one that she did not recognise. He
moved with a smile but his face carried no real hint of happiness. He was
transfixed on Felix and Penny’s display but still moved as if he was coming to greet
her, his hand out, ready to shake.
            This
was the ex-boyfriend,
Deirdre surmised. Possibly the boyfriend
re-instated…
            The woman detective looked at Penny
with a grimace. This mousey looking fellow was who the woman was being loud for
and damn if the trick didn’t work. Deirdre had to step directly in the man’s
line of sight before he even batted an eye at her.
            “This is for you, Leonard.”
            Taken back, the man blinked and
actually focused on the stranger in front of him. His smile suddenly turned
genuine. “Ho-how did you know my name?”
            “Wild guess,” Deirdre introduced
herself fully, including her rank. “Happy Birthday.
Some turn out you have here.”
            “Yeah. My
friends set this up. I see—,” he paused looking over to the canoodling couple
and then over her shoulder, “You brought some friends as well.”
            “Yeah, the five ladies behind me are
from my department. I told them about your party before I skipped out of a
meeting so they decided to come with. I hope that’s ok, Penny said we should
bring friends.”
            That
we would need to, she remembered from the blonde’s phone call. Looking at
the wildly varied crowd, she could understand why. It was clear who the friends
of Penny where and whom where Leonard’s.
            The man failed his hands in a
dismissing gesture, “No, no, no.” he smiled tightly, “The more the merrier, as
the saying goes. So you’re friends are fine, whoishe?”
            Leonard pointed over her shoulder
and Deirdre snickered. The man struggled and yet failed miserably to be
indirect. “The one with his mouth wrapped around her head is my partner, Felix
Marshall. He helped collar that purse
snatcher.”
            “And is apparently enjoying a
healthy reward,” Raj smiled widely. Deirdre turned quickly with a gasp, her
hand on her chest.
            “Good Lord, it speaks!”
            Raj chuckled as she eyed him
critically, as if he had sprouted another head. “I get that a lot,” he said,
with a sheepish smile. “But once I have a drink I can talk and talk and talk,
even to pretty ladies like yourself...Hello,” he said offering his hand with
suavity. Deirdre took it with a laugh.
            “Nice to meet you,” she said warmly.
She turned when someone cleared their throat behind her. Her smile fell when
she saw it was the purse thief’s second vic. “Doctor Cooper,” she said blandly.
“Your nose is looking better.”
            He touched the barely there bruise
and nodded appreciatively. “Yes. No thanks to you or your partner, Detective
Bowen. I waited a full twenty six minutes before I received any kind of medical
attention.”
            Blame
the wanton lovers,
is what she wanted to say. Felix’s ‘questioning’ took longer than it should
have, but she wasn’t about to offer the man in front of her any new targets.
            “I gave you my hanky Doctor Cooper,
which you still have not returned to me, so I might just be cross with you as
well.”
            “Real
medical attention,” he said, rolling his eyes. “From the big
building in the centre of town with the helipad and the vans with the flashing
lights? I was talking about-”
            “Do you have my hanky or no?” she
interrupted. Sheldon let out a scoffing breath and Deirdre cut him off before
he could speak, “Then I am cross with you too. So we are even. Excuse me?”
            Sheldon watched her give Raj a
friendly pat on the shoulder as she passed him, making her way to the open bar,
“That woman is insufferable. I can never seem to complete my sentences when she
is around because she always rudely cuts me off!”
            “I rather like her for that reason.
And the guy too,” Raj smiled. He drunkenly turned to look lopsidedly at his
friend, as if noticing something utterly new about him and then announced his
discovery proudly. “Sheldon, you talk too much.”
            It wasn’t anything the physicist
hadn’t already heard, not that he liked hearing it again. He rolled his eyes,
“at least I can do so without the aid of alcohol and fermented beverages.”
            Raj raised his glass, “Don’t hate,
Bro.” he smiled, dancing off into the crowd of ladies from the precinct.

            Deirdre bumped into Leonard at the
bar. He was pretending to get a drink and she could tell he was pretending
because he did not see the mess he was making while he poured the can of soda
on the table and not in his cup. Fortunately the cloth soaked it up before it
could spill over onto the floor and become a reason for slipping.
            She crossed her arms, brushing the
lip of her glass against her mouth as she came to stand next to him. “Ok. I
have to ask. What is the story between you two?”
            The sound of a voice so close
startled him. He flinched and dropped the cup in his hand, spilling ice
everywhere. “Aw geeze,” he hushed, noticing the mess
under him. Leonard so preoccupied himself with paper towels and dabbed at the
soda that he forgot the woman’s question, but it didn’t matter.
            A leggy brunette with softly curled
hair stood next to Deirdre, watching as Leonard bumbled to clean up with a
pitying tsk.
            “Honey don’t
ask,” she said, with a charming southern lilt. “Just know whatever it was, she
is making him pay for it ten fold.”
            “I can see,” Deirdre said, watching
Penny and Felix on the dance floor. They didn’t so much dance as they held one
another tightly, kissing every once and again between whispers. It was almost
too sickeningly cute and obviously too much for Leonard to take. The three of
them watched on for a moment, the women talking for a spell, before the jilted
lover bolted.
            “Excuse me,” Leonard said quickly,
pushing away from the table. He bumped hard into the Sheldon as he did, nearly
making the man spin to the floor.
            “What is his problem?” he grit,
dusting off his red polo shirt and inspecting the white arms of his long sleeve
undershirt.
            “Isn’t it obvious,” Deidre shrugged.
            “If it was, I would not have posed
the question now would I?”
            She rolled her eyes and the snippy
retort and ladled more of the punch into her cup. “He still wants her. ‘There’s
another kitty enjoying his bowl of milk and now he’s feelin’
thirsty again.’” she chuckled to herself.
Sheldon was visibly not as amused.
            “I am interested to know where in this spatial
plane is a response such as that is not only accepted but also expected.”
            “You asking where I’m from?” she
said, pouring yet more punch into her glass. Much more…
            Sheldon shook his head, “Not
necessarily. The place I am speaking of and where you were born may be
indiscriminate to one another.”
            “Anybody ever tell you that you
think too much?”
            “Only those I confuse.”
            “Florida,” she interjected.
            “Excuse me?”
            “Florida is where I came from,” she
explained. “And you’re right, it’s not accepted or expected there. I actually
picked up that little gem here, from that woman over there.”
            Sheldon looked at the leggy Brunette
she pointed to and sighed. “Well that explains enough,” he said dismissively.
“However I am still unclear as to why Leonard is affected by seeing Penny with
her new beau. He is the one who left her.” Deirdre’s jaw dropped.
            “Really?” She tried to imagine
mousy, bashful little Leonard refusing the buxom, bouncy and lively Penny. “It
seems like he would like to ride that train until the wheels feel off.”
            Sheldon himself agreed but said
nothing to that effect. “For reasons I have yet to understand, Leonard chose to
consign himself as a friend instead of her lover.”
            “I imagine they were friends first?”
Sheldon nodded and Deirdre continued, analysing the situation like a case file.
“Then he values her for more than just her body. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to
think he would not want to sever those bonds created during their friendship
just because their romantic relationship did not work out. It’s actually sweet
if you think about it.”
            “I have had time to think about it and I see nothing ‘sweet’ about
it,” Sheldon snapped, irritated that she did not think he too had analysed the
situation thoroughly. “If anything, it’s a step backward. Becoming her friend
has made this entire courtship process less than efficient and thusly a waste
of time.” he tilted his head with a slight frown. “Also, he seems to have made
him more agitated than usual.”
            “Because he’s human, unlike some of
us,”
            Sheldon noticed her eyeing him
questioningly and stiffened his posture, clasping his hands behind his back.
“Excuse me, but just what are you implying?”
            “That you have the emotional
capacity of an android.”
            “I resent that.”
            “You could, if it weren’t the
truth.”
            “You know absolutely nothing about
me. At best we spoke a total of fifty words to one another and if-”
            “Ok, prove me wrong then. Ask her to
dance,” Deirdre said, intentionally interrupting what promised to be a long
winded speech. She was growing bored with him and his haughtiness, but she
would attempt to play nice for Felix’s sake. Her partner begged it of her.
            Sheldon looked to the woman she
pointed at and sighed wearily. It was the leggy brunette again. “That woman is
my sister,” he said tersely. The Detective’s jaw dropped again.
            “Missy?
Really?,” she gasped. She pointed to the woman and
then him, “You and she are related?”
            Sheldon’s brows knit. The woman made
it sound like he was some how less than his sister.
It was Missy who should thank her lucky stars she could call him brother. “Why
is that so inconceivable?” he demanded.
            “Because she’s so
well adjusted and down to earth and you’re….well, you.” Sheldon opened
his mouth to retort and Deirdre cut him off again. “Anyway, I didn’t say sleep
with her. I said ask her to dance. So go.”
            “She is my sister,” he repeated, his
brows rasied.
            “Which should make
asking her easier, unless you’re afraid of your blowing your circuitry, Data.”
            “The Star Trek reference, while
utterly surprising coming from someone like you, is completely uncalled for.”
            Deidre tossed her head from side to
side, “Yadda, yadda, yadda. Are you going to ask her or not?”
            Sheldon narrowed his eyes at the
woman. He was all out of excuses and they both knew it, so he would resort to
the last weapon in his arsenal: denial.
            “This is absolutely ridiculous,” he
snorted. “I am a theoretical physicist. I do not dance.”
            “Thank you for proving my point.
Have a nice life.”
            “Have a nice life?” Sheldon echoed.
“What does that mean? Excuse me, I am talking to you…”
            “No you’re not,” Deidre said over
her shoulder as she moved towards the dance floor.
            She downed the punch like a shot,
the gulp sickeningly audible. Her plan was to grab the first guy she saw and
ask him to dance to escape but Howard jumped in her path, stopping her at the
table’s end beside the punchbowl. She was not
going to dance with him. His hands already caressed his chest in a sleezy way as he looked out over the crowd, she’d have to
shoot him if he did that to any part of her anatomy.
            “Thanks for bringing more bodies to
the party,” he said, licking his lips. “Hot bodies.”
            Deirdre stopped ladling more punch
into her cup to snap her fingers in front of him to capture his attention,
“Watch yourself,” she warned. “These women are armed
and can disable you with their bare hands if they have to. They are members of
the woman’s police guild I belong to.”
            “Hm,”
Sheldon wrinkled his nose. He had caught up to her and overheard the start of
the conversation. “Are there really that many women cops that they have their
own group? I find that surprising.”
            Howard made a silent hand movement
about the neck, but Deirdre pressed on, “And why are you so surprised there are
so many women cops?”
            “I don’t see how the fairer sex
could be just as effective in a situation that necessitates authority.”
            There was marked silence in the
party room. Howard volleyed his gaze between the two taller people and took a
tentative step to the side, “Yea. I’ll be…gone,” he said zooming away.
            Deidre paused mid-sip, her eyes wide
with shock. She was thoroughly expecting him to be rude, but his thoughtless
comment was like a punch from left field, “Excuse me?”
            “Studies have shown that people are
more likely to obey commands from a person who speaks in a lower register,” he
said, making the woman clench her fist. “The percentage is increased if said
person is above a certain height. I have yet to meet a woman who has the
requisite qualities, but then again, I do not know if I would be able to
recognise her as such if she did.”
            Deirdre put her hand on her hip,
“Usually when people see the gun they listen.”
            “I am sure they do, however I am
fairly certain your partner has an easier time getting others to comply,” he
said, stepping closer. His voice took on an excited tone, his eagerness to
divulge knowledge he possessed apparent. “Take for instance the incident with
Penny’s purse thief. I imagine if Detective Marshall had turned with weapon
drawn and used an authoritative tone, the thief would have stopped by that
alone. You on the other hand had to resort to violence because past experience
has likely taught you most of your perpetrators do not respond to your commands
the first time you give them.”
            “Or maybe I just liked kicking him in the stomach.” Her
rasping tone made him focus.
            Sheldon looked at her body’s stance
and swallowed thickly. It suddenly occurred to him he may have touched a nerve
with the woman. Her mouth was no longer upturned with the beginnings of a smile
but a hard line that slashed the lower half of her face. Her brows were
furrowed as well and she formed a fist with her free hand.
            For his safety alone, Sheldon
decided to change the topic. “I am parched,” he announced, clearing his throat.
“Would you mind handing me a glass and a can of soda. Diet coke...please.”
            “Only because you managed to say
‘please’,” she growled. Deidre turned and snatched up a cup. She moved to pick
up a can of coke only to find there were none. “Here,” she said, pushing the
paper container at him.
            Sheldon looked down and made an
exasperated sound, “I asked for a diet coke. This looks like punch.”
            “Because that is what it is. There
are no more cokes, sprites or whatever this blue stuff is that your buddy
Howard brought.”
            “He is not my buddy and I do not want this.”
            “How do you know? You haven’t even
tried it.”
            “I do not need to try it to know I will
not like it. Howard was in charge of drinks so this is likely something of his
creation ergo I do not want it.”
            “I dare you to take a sip,” Deirdre said, leaning in.
            Sheldon tsked
audibly, “Your juvenile devices will not work on me, Detective Bowen.”
            Yea,
they would. “I double dare you,”
she edged, stepping closer.
            She was right under him now, looking
up straight in his eyes. Sheldon felt his hands moisten, the apprehension from
the growing stretch of silence finally affecting him and then, crumbling his
resolve. With shaking he brought the cup to his lips and took a barely
noticeable taste of the liquid, just enough to wet his mouth and satisfy her
challenge.
            He smacked his lips and stared off
into space a moment before looking at the cup. “This tastes a little off,” he
said swirling the drink in his hands. “Perhaps if you pour me
another?”
            “Are you seriously going to be that
difficult?” she tsked, folding her arms. “There is
nothing wrong with what you have.”
            “Taste it and tell me you do not think
it’s off.”
            “I happen to think it tastes just
fine,” she said hinting to the glass in her hand. “But then again, I’m not as
sensitive as most, which is saying something considering I am the ‘fairer sex.’”
            Deirdre threw her head back and
gulped down her third cup for the night. Triumphantly she slammed it onto the
table, upside down to show it was truly empty and then folded her arms.
            Staring down at the shorter woman,
Sheldon sensed his pride was in question. Implicit in her words was that he was
not man enough to ‘roll with the new’ as the colloquialism went. From the party
he did not want to attend, to the drink he did not want, to the company he
currently suffered among. He refused to let her be correct in her analysis as
he’d never survive the shame. Penny’s proclivities being what they where,
Detective Felix Marshall would be around for at least long enough for him to
encounter his irritating partner again. So with a breath, Sheldon took the cup
of red liquid and swallowed it in several big gulps. It burned horribly but he
fought his gag reflex to horde it all down. He brought the cup down next to
hers and smacked his lips again, trying to place the strange after taste.
            “There, are you happy?”
            It as a rhetorical question, he
could tell by her expression she was. The detective turned and smiled genuinely
at him, punching him what she must have thought was lightness in the arm. He
nearly fell over and held the table at his back to keep his feet level.
            “Well look who just arrived to the
party,” she exclaimed. Sheldon nervously moved in place when she took another
cup and filled it. “Let me see you do that again.”
            “Wait,” From nowhere, Howard came
bounding to Deirdre’s side. He watched with Raj from nearby waiting for the
woman to use her taser or at the very least her
pepper spray on the arrogant doctor, but this development was far more
interesting. “Sheldon drank from the bowl?”
            “Yep,” Deidre nodded with a grin,
“And I think he might be man enough to do it again.”
            With two pairs of eyes on him,
Sheldon felt more compelled than ever to follow through. And despite the
burning sensation afterward, it hadn’t tasted all bad. Throwing his head back,
his adam’s apple danced in his long throat as he
drank the second cup down as quickly as he did the first. He slammed the cup
down with a hiss and Howard’s face fell slack.
            “I don’t believe it,” he muttered in
awe.
            “My face feels warm,” Sheldon
remarked, heading to the bowl for another helping.
            “It’s probably the bug in your ass
dying,” Deirdre laughed watching him walk past.
            “Or something else,” Howard
snickered, skirting off, literally following the tail of some slender woman.

            “Ten o’clock,” Deirdre pocketed her
cellular in her back pocket and looked in the bathroom mirror again. There
where rings forming under her eyes. She pulled at one with a finger and then
shook her head. “Bedtime for Bonzo,” she hushed.
Felix was just going to have to get along without her.
            Deidre emerged from the bathroom,
rubbing a sheet of paper towel between her hands with a smile. After dismissing
Doctor Cooper, she had thoroughly enjoyed herself although the same could not
be said of all.
            The birthday boy himself was
conspicuously absent from most of the party after the cake was cut and even
now, he seemed reluctant to make an appearance at his own party but it was just
as well. The festivities where winding down, people stumbling out the glass
doors of the restaurant to hail cabs home, but there were still a few party
goers in the club. Oddly enough they had congregated in one corner by the
brightly lit antique juke-box. As Deirdre neared, curious to
what held their attention, her jaw dropped. The third
time for the evening.

            “Oh my gawd,”
she could hear Penny laugh against Felix’s chest. “He is so drunk!”
            “I don’t know how that could have
happened,” Leonard said emerging from his hiding spot to stand closest to the
spectacle, “Sheldon doesn’t drink. He says the burn of the alcohol is too much
for him.”
            Deirdre hissed like she stubbed her
toe and looked to the nearly empty bowl of punch nearby. “I think the punch is
spiked.”
            “Really?”
Felix said, smacking his lips. “I don’t taste it.”
            “Me either,” Penny said, staring
into her glass.
            Deidre didn’t taste it either but
then again, when it came to drinking she, Felix and obviously Penny, were old
pros. With her thumb and forefinger, she took up the discarded white cup
floating in the punch bowl’s centre and poured a little on the empty metal
sandwich plate. Deirdre took the lighter from her pocket and touched the flame
to the pool of red liquid. The ensuing ball of fire nearly singed her fingers.
            “Yep. The
spiked is punched,” Raj chuckled. With each arm wrapped around two giggling
women, he swaggered to the group of aghast onlookers
with a cheeky white smile that split from ear to ear. It was clear he enjoyed
more than a few sips of Howard’s special brew as well.
            As for the engineer he, seeing
Deirdre turn an accusing glare at him, held up his hands for cuffing. “I’ll
admit it. I’ve been bad.” He leaned in, “Punish me.”
            “Back it up, Mr. Wolowitz
or I’ll put you back in holding, ” Deirdre smothered
the flames with the cup, tossing it back on the trey with a sigh. Sheldon was
still atop the table, rolling his hips with the song, warbling out note after
awfully disharmonious note.
            “This is all my
fault,” she frowned. “He told me it tasted funny and I told him to be a man and
drink up.”
            “Then it’s only fair you two take
him home,” Leonard said, tossing Sheldon’s house keys at her. “I’m sorry that
you’ll have to go home early, Detective Marshall.”
            Penny narrowed her eyes at Leonard.
If looks could kill he’d be ash but Felix, hugging her close made it vanish. “It’s ok, babe. We came in separate cars,” he said.
“Maybe D will do me a favour and take care of your
drunk friend like he wants?”
            With heavy emphasis on the word
‘favour’, Felix looked at his partner with lips pouted and eyes impossibly sad.
Leonard cursed under his breath to see Deirdre’s head drop, her hands resting
on her hips. It was clear she would acquiesce and Leonard decided it wasn’t
fair that he made the woman suffer unnecessarily. He would have accepted her
discomfort as a collateral damage if he got what he wanted, but since he did
not he was moved to make a amends.
            “Wait a minute.” Leonard abandoned
his defensive stance and turned to the woman with hand out, “Perhaps I was a
bit premature before, Detective Bowen. I’ll take Sheldon home. Most of the
guests have left anyway, the party is almost over.”
            He reached for the keys in her hand
and it surprised him when she moved them away, shaking her head. “No, you were
right. I did this to him so I ought to take him home.” She looked at her
partner and raised her eyebrow. “You owe me one, Fe.”
            “No, that’s ok,” Leonard chuckled,
“You really have no idea what a baby he can be.”
            “No. Stay and enjoy your party. I’ve
taken care of bigger babies,” she said, looking at Felix.
            “I’m sure it’s not that bad, D” her partner replied with a
chuckle. He stopped when Penny clutched to his shirt and looked up at him with
fright in her blue eyes.
            “No. It is,” she said with grave
warning of a prophetic mystic, remembering the time Sheldon was sick. The
memories of ‘soft kitty’ song and vapour rub made her shiver. “It is.”
            “Ok, ok… I believe you.” Felix
soothed with a snicker, holding her hand. He looked over to his partner, “D at
least let me help you?”
            Leonard rocked contentedly on his
heels, happy that his plan worked. However, his smile fell as seeing Deidre
shake her head no again. Penny smiled then and looked right in Leonard’s face
when she did, her satisfaction nearly palpable.
            “You stay and enjoy the party too,
Fe.” Deidre said, patting his shoulder. “He doesn’t look like he’ll be too much
trouble,” she tilted her head and watched the lanky scientist cross his arms in
rhythm with the Macarena with a laugh. “Once I get him off the table at least.”
            “Say cheese!” Howard snapped a
picture with his phone and Sheldon fled from the flash. Disoriented and off
balance, the man twisted on the table’s edge and the wobbly surface finally
broke. The entire party watched him drop, their heads moving from up where he
once stood to the ground as he descended, wincing collectively when he landed
with a thump.
            “I think that’ll do it,” Deirdre
said, slowly walking in his direction. “Come on, Stretch. Upsie-daisy…”
            She rolled Sheldon onto his back and
fought with his arms to lift him up. Leonard twittered his fingers as he slunk
beside Felix and Penny.
            “Someone really ought to help her. Sheldon may prove to be quite a handful.”
            The muscled detective shook his
head, “No, D said she’s got it so we’d better just let her go.”
            “But if you’re so concerned, you can
help her Leonard.” Penny said, snuggling closer to Felix’s chest.
            Leonard watched with marked envy as
the man folded his arms around her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. She
lifted her head and returned the intimate gesture with a soft giggle. They
kissed innocently, lips crushed sweetly against lips, and Leonard turned away
with a burp.
            “I don’t think I’d be too much use,”
he gulped. “I suddenly feel ill.”
            He took off in the direction of the
bathrooms and Penny, noticing immediately he was genuinely sick, followed after
him. Felix pursued directly, which left Raj and his newfound harem to watch the
woman detective struggle to lift Sheldon. He leaned heavily on her, his cheek
cherry red where it slammed against the floor.
            “Somebody should really lower the
tables in this place. That was one nasty fall,” he belched.
            Deirdre’s eyes widened and she
gasped with a screech. His breath was foul! It was like being hit with an
open-handed smack. “Well, feel free to take it up with the management if they
don’t charge you for breaking it.”
            Sheldon looked back at the pile of
what was essentially fire wood and then shrugged, “That could make things
difficult,” he said, slumping his head over hers. He rubbed his cheek against
her hair, nuzzling her head and then looked at her. “I think you’re hair is
overdue for a wash. It’s rather stiff.”
            “The casualty of right-on hairspray,” she grunted,
kicking the restaurant door open with her leg. “And I’d appreciate it if you
didn’t open your mouth again.”
            “It was merely an observation. I
didn’t mean it as an insult.”
            “And I didn’t take it as one. It’s
just your breath stinks.”
            Sheldon raised his free hand to his
face and heaved into it. Smelling his own funk, he started to convulse and
Deidre shuffled with him to the nearest car in the parking lot, propping him
against it as he started to vomit. Deidre was looking away but she still shuddered
at the noise. It sounded like an armful of water balloons striking concrete in
rapid succession. She leapt back, leaving him to lean pathetically against the Hyundi’s bumper alone, when some chunks splattered onto her
shoe.
            “Damn, Doc. What.
Did. You. Eat?” she hissed, scraping her boot against
the tire.
            Sheldon wiped his mouth and pushed
away from the car, “It’s more like, ‘What didn’t I digest,’” he corrected, his
finger wagging.
            Deirdre leaned back like a martial
artist, the line of her back arching like an exponential curve, her cheeks
puffed by her held breath. “Whatever,” she squeaked. “Just don’t do that in my
cruiser or you’re walking home.” Sheldon noticed her reaction to his breath and
raised his hand to check again. Deirdre pulled it away from his face by the
wrist just as he exhaled. “And don’t do that
again until we reach your house either.”
            She pulled him across the lot to her
black Crown Vic and held him against the front passenger side with her body
while she opened the door to the rear. Her plan was to toss him inside and lay
him across the back but the man would not budge.
            “I don’t sit in the back,” he said,
regaining some of his stiff composure from the nights start. He held himself
precariously upright, swaying just enough to betray his “I-am-in-control” act.
            “Then where do you sit?” she said,
impatiently.
            “Since I am obviously too inebriated
to drive—although I don’t even if I am not—and unwilling to sit in the back,
the cognisant person would see that only leaves one viable choice.”
            “The front passenger side?” she
asked sarcastically, pulling the door to the seat open.
            “Of course,” he said, ambling
inside. “Must I spell everything out for you?”
            “Only if you want to be smacked,”
she grit, slamming the door shut.
            Deirdre stalked angrily around the
front of the car and saw the man through the windshield. He pitched forward,
his head thudding against the dashboard and she shook her head. “You owe me big time, Fe,” she muttered.

A/N: Slow start, I know, but this is going where you think. Heh.
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The Stairwell Postulate