The Big Bang Theory

Chapter 1

Sam shifted the paper bag of take out on to his hip so he could rap his knuckles on the door again. It still bothered him that the building she lived in didn't have a working buzz in, any psycho- murdering rapist could walk in here. After a minute or so of no response he again cursed her building for making him haul his ass up four flights of stairs only to find she wasn't even home.

The muffled sound of bare feet slapping against hardwood floors and the click of a lock proved otherwise. The door flew open and Sarah Nankervis appeared before him, and as always his breath caught in his throat a little. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a sloppy ponytail, and any make-up had been scrubbed free of her face.

Taking in the rest of her appearance, body hidden beneath an old zip up hooded sweater and plaid pyjama pants folded over at the waist band, he concluded that today had not gone well.

“Hey” he offered “I bought dinner.” He pointlessly gestured to the bag that was quickly becoming see through with grease, there were still some places in L.A that sold real food.

Sarah rolling her eyes reached for the bottle of Chardonnay in his left hand and turned making her way back into her apartment, Sam took that as his queue to follow her in.

She flopped down on the couch while he made his way over to the kitchen and began unpacking the food containers on the counter next to what was left of a six pack. Sam glanced around. There was no sign of the emergency Grey Goose, hopefully it was still in the freezer, vodka equalled the end of the world, beer? Beer just meant she was pissed, beer he could deal with.

“I'm not hungry Sam” the back of her head called to him.

“I am.”

He saw her body swivel to plant her feet on the couch as she lay down.

“Well can you bring me a glass...and a corkscrew in the top drawer?”

He snorted, then the words were tumbling out before he even realised his mouth was moving, “What, your legs don't work?” His breath stuttered in his lungs and his head snapped up to catch her reaction. She was still laid flat on her back, head turned to the T.V so he couldn't see her face. Slowly she rose, turning to eye him over the back of the couch.

The way her eyes narrowed at him he half expected her to launch the bottle of wine at his head, but instead, in a split second or less, the mirth in her eyes slipped into amusement and she shook her head as she laughed.

“Fine!” Throwing her hands up into the air, and then grabbing the bottle she jumped up from her seat and playfully stomped her feet as she joined him in the kitchen. “I'll get it myself” she huffed, reaching into the cupboard behind him and slamming two glasses down on the counter next to him.

She was standing right beside him now, and he could feel the warmth of her body through their layers of clothes. It always made him a little dizzy being this close to her, but he'd had close to a year of practice at perfecting a nonchalant response.

“You know..” she peered up at him, eyes wide and lips pouty, distracting him so he couldn’t care too much that her left hand was creeping its way to the drawer handle positioned directly in front of his crotch... “You can be really mean sometimes.” He was pretty sure if he hadn't read the flash of mischievous intent in her eyes, all the blood in his body would have rushed straight to his dick. Instead he jumped back from the counter at the exact moment she yanked the drawer open. Sarah reached inside pulling out a corkscrew, face the picture of innocence.

Yeah right. He rolled his eyes in defeat. “Okay I guess I deserved that.”

“Yes you did.” She smirked as she poured the wine handing him a glass.

“Thanks.”

“Here’s to you Dr Samuel Cohen,” she raised her glass in a toast “ At least one of us gets to do what they love.” He winced as their glasses clinked together, “That bad huh?”

She sighed and he followed her over to the couch. Taking another sip of wine Sarah shrugged, “Same old, same old. First round of auditions, great, but when it comes down to it, I'm too old and technically I...I just cant compete.”

The resignation in her voice gripped his heart, just like any other time she felt bad, or was upset and he hated that the disappointment he used to see in her eyes had manifested in to something new, into acceptance.

When Sarah was 11 she was diagnosed with Perthes disease. The fact that she was a girl and a pre-teen already against her it seemed that on a scale of one to ten the severity of her condition easily punched way above a twenty. A recurring hip problem would have an on impact anyone’s life, but for someone who had her heart set on being a dancer since she could walk, it threw a major spanner in the works.

He studied her profile as she slowly sipped her wine, and wished there was something he could do to make this better for her, hell he'd give her his own hip if he didn't need it for rounds and surgerys...Instead he placed a hand on her shoulder and mustered up his best authoritarian voice, it sounded suspiciously like his moms.

“Hey, don't give up okay? You've worked too hard.” He was interrupted by her head dropping heavily on to his shoulder.

“ I know, I know, I'm not giving up I just...I don't know. I guess I'm just so tired of this whole damn process, since college its been five years of the same cycle, I go to class, I go to auditions, I get turned down because of the hip thing, which then gives out because I pushed to hard to catch up from the last time, then its back to physio for a couple months before it starts all over again.” She threw back the contents of her wine glass and continued in her rant. “I'm just so tired of going round in the same fucking circle, and if I could have just gotten this one job it would've made it worth it y'know? Three months in Tokyo would have been so perfect, just to get away and do something different.”

Sam ignored the guilt he felt curling in the pit of his stomach over the fact he may have sent a little prayer to God not to take her away from him for three months, he was pretty sure the big guy had more pressing issues to deal with over his selfish request.

“ It just so frustrating” Sarah said as she reached to the coffee table to refill her glass. “Yes, that's exactly it frustrating, mentally, emotionally...sexually...”

Being mesmerised by the fire that danced in her eyes, she had the most expressive eyes, big and bright and this weird green colour that changed depending on her mood... yeah anyway, being mesmerised by all of that Sam almost missed that last thing she said.

“God, I cant even remember the last time I got laid.” She bit her lip in concentration and continued “ Maybe that's what I need, just to shake things up a bit?” Pulling her feet up under her her butt, her knees fell against his leg. She was gripping his shoulder with one hand and he felt like his skin was burning underneath his shirt as she spoke the next pant stretching words.

“Just one night, no, 24 hours of mind melting, naked all day, sweaty, back breaking, limb twisting, holy shit I can't walk tomorrow, friction burned sex!”

She was looking at him all wide eyed and mouth slightly open, he could feel the slight sting of her nails in his shoulder and she let out a half breath half sigh that made the skin across his neck erupt into goosebumps.

As he held her gaze what little blood was left in his head was alerting him to the fact that there were was no way to hide the situation going on in his pants without drawing attention to the damn thing...as long as their eyes were locked she'd be unaware of the unapologetic impact her words had had on his body, but what was he going to do, keep eye balling her for the next 20 minutes? He searched his brain for something coherent to say but it seemed the only words he could remember were “naked” “sweaty” and “friction”.

Naked...sweaty...

“Sam?”

Friction...naked...

“Sam?” She whispered.

Sweaty...

He felt her other hand resting on his thigh and it sent shock waves straight up his spine and back down to his toes. Sam would never say he was particularly adept at reading people, hell he spent the better part of his teenage years seemingly lacking the component required for successfully navigating his way through everyday social situations. But when Sarah’s gaze dropped to his mouth, even someone as inexperienced as himself could read the intent behind it. Still it didn't mean he was ready to react accordingly when her lips pressed against his.

For a second he honestly thought his heart had fucking stopped. Or time had stood still, or maybe the world actually did fall off its axis? His mind went blank briefly as his lips catalogued the feel of hers. They were warm and moist from the wine, a gentle suction drawing him further into the kiss. Then just as his body was beginning to relax into the kiss his mind caught up to what was happening and proceeded to fuck him over royally.

“Wait! Sarah, I'm sorry, we can't” he leaped to his feet out of her reach “I cant.”

She looked up at him from where she remained seated, her lips pressed together. “Oh really?” He caught her meaning when her eyes rolled down to his crotch and the now undeniable hard-on making itself known to them both. She uncurled her legs to stand in front of him, her fingers slipping through he belt holes in his jeans, tugging him close as she breathed against the shell of his ear, “I think you can.”

Before she could kiss him again he caught her wrists holding her out at arms length, “Sarah, really we shouldn’t do this, its a bad, bad idea.”

Her face blanched in confusion “Was it the kiss? I thought..It was good right?”

Good? Good? Sam couldn't believe it, here he was practically shooting his load in his pants and she was asking if her kiss was good? Man if he couldn't get it together over a kiss there was no way this was going any further.

“No, I mean yes! It was...ugh just slow down a sec”

“Why?” She giggled.

“Because we, we're friends?”

She raised an eyebrow silently asking him to elaborate. “It'll screw us up”

“No it won't.”

He released her and stepped away, stumbling as the back of his legs bumped the coffee table. “Why me huh? There's hundreds of guys out there, you could have anyone you want!” He thanked his legs for putting distance between them as he rounded the back of the couch.

“I don't want anyone, I want someone I trust, and can be myself with and...”

“No Sarah”

“Oh what, like you have ass to spare? Sam, in the year we've been hanging out I don't remember you getting laid once!” There was that fire in her eyes again, and he had to admit there was a big part of him that was over the freaking moon it was because of him. “C'mon” she whined as she climbed on to the couch drawing herself up to match his height, her hand found its way to that spot on his shoulder again burning the already scalded skin. “You’re cute, I'm hot, it'll be great, and if its bad...well hey at least we can just laugh about it afterwards.” Sam was pretty sure she'd be the only one laughing.

“Look I'm sorry...”

“Oh God, Sam! Why are you're being such a pussy about this?”

“BECAUSE I NEVER HAD ANY ALRIGHT!” He'd never yelled at her before and he knew it wasn't really her fault, how could she know how deep her words cut if he'd never told her the truth? But still he couldn't help but feel a little angry she'd forced him out of the proverbial closet for the sake of a meaningless fuck.

“ I've never had sex, I'm a twenty eight year old Jewish doctor and I've never been laid, I'm a fucking walking t.v sitcom. So yeah we could have sex and you'd get your laugh” and here it was the absolute gut punching truth “But as far as back breaking, and friction burns go? I am so not the guy you need.”