Chapter 7: Penny's Visit
POV: Penny
Penny had expected a lot of things when she finally made it to Stuart's comic book shop on a Thursday afternoon. She'd expected the musty smell of old paper, maybe some action figures gathering dust, probably a few socially awkward guys who would either ignore her completely or stare in ways that made her skin crawl. She'd expected to feel out of place, like a tourist visiting a country where she didn't speak the language.
What she hadn't expected was to walk into what felt like someone's really cool living room.
The space was clean, well-lit, and organized in a way that actually made sense. Instead of intimidating walls of comics arranged by mysterious systems only true believers could understand, everything was grouped by themes and recommendations. Hand-written shelf talkers explained why certain titles were worth reading, written in language that assumed intelligence without requiring a PhD in comic book history.
"Penny!" Stuart looked up from behind the counter, his face lighting up with genuine pleasure rather than the desperate gratitude she sometimes got from Leonard's friends. "You actually came."
"I said I would," she replied, looking around with growing appreciation. "This place is nothing like what I pictured."
"What did you picture?"
"Honestly? Dark, cramped, maybe a little creepy. Like the shop from The Simpsons, you know? But this is..." She gestured at the warm lighting, the comfortable reading chairs, the coffee machine in the corner. "This is actually inviting."
Stuart's smile carried a hint of pride mixed with self-deprecation. "I figured if I was going to spend most of my waking hours here, it should feel like a place people actually want to be. Plus, intimidating customers isn't exactly a sustainable business model."
Penny moved toward one of the displays, running her fingers along spine of graphic novels she'd never heard of. "So where do I start? I mean, I've seen the superhero movies, but I have no idea what's actually worth reading."
"Depends what kind of stories you like," Stuart said, coming around the counter to join her. "Are you more interested in adventure, romance, comedy, drama? Do you prefer contemporary settings or fantasy worlds?"
The questions were delivered without a hint of condescension, like he was genuinely curious about her preferences rather than testing her worthiness to enter his domain. Penny found herself relaxing in ways she hadn't expected.
"I like stories about people," she said after thinking for a moment. "Characters who feel real, who have actual problems to solve. I don't really care about the setting as much as whether I believe in the people."
Stuart's eyes lit up. "Perfect. Follow me."
For the next hour, he guided her through a curated tour of graphic storytelling that completely rewrote her understanding of what comics could be. He showed her manga with strong female protagonists navigating complex relationships and career challenges. He introduced her to graphic novels that dealt with immigration, family dynamics, and the struggle to maintain identity in rapidly changing worlds.
"This one," he said, pulling out a volume called Persepolis, "is about a girl growing up during the Iranian Revolution. It's funny and heartbreaking and completely authentic. The author based it on her own experiences."
Penny flipped through a few pages, immediately drawn to the simple black-and-white art and the honest voice of the narrator. "This doesn't feel like a comic book. It feels like... literature."
"That's because it is," Stuart said simply. "Comics are just another medium for storytelling. Same way movies can be mindless action flicks or profound artistic statements. The medium doesn't determine the quality—the creator's vision does."
Something in his tone made Penny look up from the book. Stuart was watching her with an expression she couldn't quite read—not the hungry attention she got from most men, but something deeper. Like he was actually interested in her thoughts rather than just waiting for his turn to talk.
"You really love this stuff," she observed.
"Yeah," he said, and the simple admission carried more weight than most people's passionate speeches. "I love stories that help people understand each other better. Comics, movies, books, TV shows—when they work, they create empathy. They let you experience life from perspectives you might never encounter otherwise."
Penny was about to respond when the shop door burst open with enough force to make the bell above it sound like an alarm. Howard Wolowitz strutted in with Raj trailing behind him, both clearly on some kind of mission.
"Stuart, my friend!" Howard announced in a voice three times louder than the intimate conversation required. "I was just telling Raj about your legendary business instincts, and—" He stopped mid-sentence as his brain processed the scene in front of him. "Oh. Oh my."
Howard's entire demeanor shifted with the speed of a computer switching programs. His shoulders squared, his voice dropped to what he probably thought was a sexy register, and his smile transformed from genuine enthusiasm to something that looked like it belonged in a toothpaste commercial.
"Well, hello there," Howard said, approaching Penny with the predatory confidence of a pickup artist who'd read too many bad books about attraction. "I don't believe we've had the pleasure. I'm Howard Wolowitz, aerospace engineer and part-time Renaissance man."
Penny felt the familiar internal sigh that accompanied these interactions. "Penny."
"Penny," Howard repeated, like he was tasting wine. "Beautiful name for a beautiful woman. You know, I was just telling my colleague here about the physics of human attraction. Did you know that when two people make eye contact, their pupils dilate due to increased noradrenaline production? It's like your body's way of saying—"
"Howard," Stuart interrupted gently, "Penny and I were discussing graphic novels."
"Graphic novels!" Howard pivoted without missing a beat. "I happen to be quite the expert on sequential art myself. In fact, I've been thinking about creating my own comic series—'The Adventures of Dr. Love,' starring a brilliant scientist who uses his intellect to solve crimes while simultaneously romancing—"
"That sounds..." Penny searched for a diplomatic response, "interesting."
Meanwhile, Raj had positioned himself near the manga section, clearly wanting to join the conversation but physically unable to speak in Penny's presence. He kept opening and closing his mouth like a fish, occasionally making small frustrated sounds that made Penny feel genuinely sorry for him.
The contrast between Stuart's earlier natural conversation and Howard's desperate performance art was almost painful to witness. Where Stuart had asked about her interests and listened to her answers, Howard was essentially performing a one-man show titled "Why You Should Find Me Attractive." Where Stuart had treated her like an intelligent person capable of forming her own opinions, Howard was explaining things she hadn't asked about and describing accomplishments she hadn't expressed interest in.
"You know what," Penny said, cutting through Howard's monologue about his latest engineering project, "I should probably get going. I've got a shift tonight."
"Of course," Stuart said, walking her toward the register. "Did you want to take anything with you?"
She looked down at the copy of Persepolis still in her hands, then at the small stack of recommendations Stuart had pulled for her. "Actually, yes. This one, and maybe a couple others you mentioned."
As Stuart rang up her purchases, Howard continued his campaign. "If you're ever interested in learning more about the fascinating intersection of science and storytelling, I'd be happy to give you a personal tutorial. I have an extensive collection of science fiction that explores themes ranging from—"
"Thanks," Penny said politely, "but Stuart's already got me covered on the reading material front."
The look that crossed Howard's face was equal parts confusion and wounded pride. He glanced between Stuart and Penny, clearly trying to calculate what variable he'd failed to account for in his approach.
"Poor guy," Penny thought. "He has no idea that trying so hard makes him completely unappealing. Stuart didn't even try, and that's exactly why he's interesting."
Stuart handed her the bag with a genuine smile. "Hope you enjoy them. And feel free to come back anytime if you want to talk about what you read, or if you want more recommendations."
"I will," she said, meaning it. "This was really fun, Stuart. Thanks for... you know, treating me like a person instead of a walking stereotype."
As she headed for the door, she caught Howard's bewildered expression and felt another pang of sympathy. He was trying so hard to be impressive that he'd forgotten to be human.
"Maybe that's the difference," she mused as she walked back to her car. "Stuart acts like talking to me is a privilege he's grateful for, not a challenge he needs to conquer."
POV Shift: Stuart
After Penny left, the shop fell into an awkward silence broken only by the sound of Howard muttering calculations under his breath like he was trying to solve a particularly challenging equation.
"I don't understand," he finally said, looking at me with the expression of a scientist whose experiment had produced impossible results. "I deployed my most effective conversational strategies. I demonstrated intellectual superiority, professional success, and cultural sophistication. Why did she respond more positively to your... whatever that was?"
"Conversation," I said simply. "I had a conversation with her."
"So did I!"
"No, you performed for her. There's a difference."
Howard's face went through several different expressions as he processed this feedback. Raj, meanwhile, had pulled out his phone and was typing furiously—probably texting Howard his thoughts since he couldn't speak them aloud.
"But my approach is scientifically sound," Howard protested. "Women are attracted to confidence, intelligence, and humor. I displayed all three."
"You displayed insecurity disguised as confidence, intelligence used as a weapon instead of a tool for connection, and humor that was more about impressing than entertaining," I thought, but saying it would just hurt his feelings without helping him understand.
"Maybe try asking what she's interested in instead of telling her what you think she should find impressive," I suggested. "Penny's smart. She doesn't need you to explain things to her—she needs you to care about what she thinks."
Howard stared at me like I'd just revealed the secret to cold fusion. "That's... actually not terrible advice. But how did you know to do that?"
The question hung in the air while I scrambled for an answer that wouldn't expose my impossible advantages. The truth was that I'd watched years of Penny interacting with different types of men, knew exactly what appealed to her and what made her uncomfortable. But I couldn't explain that without revealing knowledge I shouldn't possess.
"I just treated her the way I'd want to be treated," I said finally. "Like someone whose opinions matter, whose interests are worth learning about. Revolutionary concept, I know."
Raj showed Howard his phone, and Howard's eyebrows shot up. "Raj makes an excellent point. He says you're the first person he's seen successfully interact with Penny without either worshiping her or dismissing her. There might be something to this 'actual conversation' strategy."
After they left, I found myself alone with the complicated emotions that had been building throughout Penny's visit. She was everything I remembered from the show—beautiful, kind, intelligent despite her lack of formal education, genuinely funny in ways that didn't require putting other people down. But she was also more than that—more real, more complex, more genuinely appealing than any fictional character could be.
"And that's the problem," I realized, sinking into one of the reading chairs and staring at the empty space where she'd been standing. "I'm attracted to her. Genuinely, powerfully attracted in ways that have nothing to do with foreknowledge and everything to do with chemistry."
My Attractiveness power had been growing steadily over the past few months. The confidence boost from business success, the physical improvements that came with genuine achievement, the charisma that developed through authentic connections—all of it was working exactly as designed. And I could see in Penny's responses that she'd noticed the change.
The way she'd looked at me while I talked about comics. The way she'd laughed at my stories about difficult customers. The way she'd thanked me for treating her "like a person instead of a stereotype"—all of it suggested that my supernatural development was making me genuinely appealing to someone whose opinion mattered to me.
But I knew her story. I knew she was supposed to end up with Leonard eventually, after years of complicated relationship dynamics that would define both their character arcs. I knew about her struggles with acting, her eventual career pivot, her complex journey toward finding genuine happiness and stability.
Using my foreknowledge to pursue her romantically would be the worst kind of cheating—taking advantage of information she'd never chosen to share, manipulating someone who couldn't defend against advantages she didn't know I possessed.
"She's not mine to pursue," I told myself firmly. "She's a real person with her own path to follow, and my job is to be a good friend who supports her choices, not someone who tries to rewrite her timeline for his own benefit."
The decision felt both noble and heartbreaking. Penny would come back to the shop—I could see it in her genuine enthusiasm for the books I'd recommended. We would build a friendship based on shared interests and mutual respect. But I would maintain appropriate boundaries, no matter how much the growing attraction tempted me to cross them.
"This is what having ethics costs," I thought, watching the afternoon sunlight fade through the shop windows. "Sometimes doing the right thing means sacrificing what you want for what someone else needs."
The void had given me incredible powers, but it had also burdened me with responsibility for using them wisely. And wisdom, I was learning, often looked a lot like restraint.
Tomorrow, Leonard would probably ask how Penny's visit went. I would tell him she seemed to enjoy herself, that she'd bought some books, that she'd promised to come back. All true, all honest, and none of it revealing the complicated emotions that her presence had stirred up.
Because some secrets were worth keeping, and some sacrifices were worth making, and sometimes being the person you wanted to be required giving up the things you wanted most.
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