Author's Note: Little fluff piece to take a break from the angst in my other story. Shouldn't be any particular spoilers here. This is just a little peak into the hidden moments of the relationship between Leonard and Penny when they struggle with coordinating different schedules. Anyways, this is more reflective than dialogue driven, and the timeframe is very vague but hopefully it's not too tedious to read.

The Second Harmonic

Penny rarely woke before Leonard.

It was just something that she had accepted at first, like one of the laws of the universe the boys would talk about. She slept in. Leonard woke up first. That was it. Working the late shift at the restaurant brought in the best tips, but it kept her out late. She'd asked for extra hours, but hadn't expected such a drastic response. She barely had a day off anymore. Penny cringed when she had to tell Leonard, feeling guilty that this meant she'd be leaving late afternoon and coming back in the early hours of the morning. She'd lose the lazy evenings hanging around 4A, and suddenly, their work hours barely overlapped at all.

Leonard's initial response immediately made him rise in Penny's opinion. "Well, just send me a text and I'll head over when you get home." He'd said before kissing her gently. He kept his word, too. 1am, 3 am, it hadn't mattered to him. Time didn't seem to dull his enthusiasm. There was a cynical side of Penny that doubted this would last, but night after night there he was – and his smile didn't seem to lessen in intensity when he saw her. The late hours took their toll though – and while Penny suspected that at first Leonard had used her work hours as an excuse to stay up and play games on his computer, there were nights where she guessed that her text had woken him. Adorably sleepy, he still never failed to respond to her texts, and no matter how drowsy he look when he shuffled over in his pyjamas. His morning routine was pretty much carved into stone though. Penny blamed Sheldon for that, although she didn't bring it up, she wondered why he didn't just blow the other physicist off and sleep in late with her. Sheldon could get to work on his own if he had to. But that was typical Leonard; giving 110% of himself to the people he cared about while he ran himself into the ground.

Self-sacrifice had its limits though. A week of dark circles under his eyes went by before he admitted it to her. Penny guessed that he was going to tell her that they couldn't do this anymore, but he had another solution. She remembered how tenderly he pressed a copy of his apartment key into her hand. It had been so warm from him clutching it tightly. At the time she'd wondered how long he'd been holding it as he built up the courage to give it to her. Both the gesture and the intimacy behind it were precious to Penny. Just because of who Leonard was; it meant so much more to her. There was a special thrill that came with sneaking in quietly after work to Leonard's apartment. She'd tiptoe across the living room as quietly as she could, slipping silently down the hallway. No matter how quiet she tried to be, Leonard's warm brown eyes were usually open by the time she got to his bedroom, squinting across at her as she shut the door again. Sometimes there was evidence that he'd tried to stay up and wait for her: scientific papers with writing that looked like alphabet soup strewn across the pages would be hastily dropped to the side of the bed. Penny always felt so powerful when she walked towards his bed. Watching him watch her gave her such a thrill. He could be so innocently unaware of the effect that the raw desire in his eyes had on her. Those nights usually ended passionately. Other times he'd just sleepily pull her in close to him, wrapping his arms around her possessively before contentedly falling back asleep. Either way, everything would be right with her world when she snuggled into the warm blankets beside him. Something protective and tender rose within her when she could drift off with an arm around him.

Mornings were different. Penny hated mornings.

She was pretty much a zombie before she'd gotten her coffee. She needed her sleep, dammit. When the morning was still measured in single digits she did not want to be awake. Penny could occasionally recall a hazy protest to Leonard getting up when she wasn't ready to face consciousness just yet. But when she fully woke up, she was always alone in a quiet apartment. It didn't matter if it was her room or his. Leonard's side of the bed would be neatly made - and without fail there would be a cold cup of coffee on the night-table next to her.

Things had suddenly changed when he needed to book time with lab equipment overnight, switching to an overnight shift for the entire week.

It had been strange to go to bed without him. She hadn't expected to get used to him as a boyfriend so fast. Her room felt empty. She felt empty. Penny tossed and turned restlessly. She tried curling up next to her stuffed animals, but they couldn't replace Leonard's warmth. She crossed her fingers that he'd be done with the fancy laser soon.

Penny tried his place. She felt strange, using his key without him there. His bed smelled like him – his shampoo, his cologne - and surrounded by his stuff it was easier to pretend that he could come back at any time. She curled herself around his pillow and fell into a heavier sleep than she expected. In the morning she woke up to a warm arm tucked around her body. Leonard's presence was comforting. His breath was soft against her shoulder. He was as tightly pressed against her as he could be, chest against her back, hips to her hips, even his knees tucked up behind hers. She felt a smile spread across her face. They fit together so perfectly. There were definite advantages to dating guys close to her height.

Somehow, going to sleep alone didn't seem too bad if she could trade it for waking up with him there beside her. It still was sort of shock when she opened her eyes to sun streaming through the blinds and having Leonard inches away on the pillow, relaxed and still in a deep sleep. She'd wanted to freeze time right there. Instead she tried to etch it into her memory. She reached out gently, touching the curls that frothed around his head. He must not have bothered to slick them down after his shower. She didn't know why he didn't leave them looser more often. It was almost a Jim Morrison halo. While he slept she could trace her eyes over his collarbones, his chest, before he got caught up in the sort of self-conscious nonsense she couldn't talk him out of.

Here he was hers. All hers. She didn't have to share him with his own neurotic defences. She knew that as soon as he woke up he'd pull on clothes as quickly as possible: shirt boxers and socks before he got out of the bed, further obscuring his figure in a bathrobe. Slick his hair down. He'd start to get that worried self-conscious energy.

She didn't know how to say that she was attracted to him and have him believe it. Sure, at first she probably would have passed him over. Did, she remembered guiltily. But now... there was something about this face that made her feel content. The faint smile lines around his eyes. The way he'd break into a smile that captured her heart in a vice-grip and wouldn't let go until she felt like her chest would break with all the feelings that he pulled out of her. So Penny treasured these moments when she woke up first, letting the golden sunlight puddle around the drapes in her bedroom, giving a warm golden glow to the bed. It was the only time she'd really seen him truly look like he was at peace.

She couldn't stop smiling.

She could learn to like mornings.