A/N: I just couldn't help it - I had to write my own pregnancy-test-fic after this week's episode. Set somewhere around the first few episodes of season 6.

Surprisingly, it's Sheldon of all people who inadvertently alerts Penny to the fact that she's late.

"Never mind," he says, interrupting her rant as they eat and holding up his hands in mock surrender. "We can revisit the topic in three to five days when you're less hormonal."

Penny's anger swells.

"Sheldon, I am not on my –"

Oh. Crap.

Shouldn't she be? She counts the days. Yup.

Crap.

Her eyes fly to Leonard to see if he noticed her sudden change in demeanor, but instead he had picked up correcting Sheldon where she'd left off, and was now lecturing him on acceptable conversation topics. ("You just can't say that sort of thing, Sheldon!" "Well obviously I can, it's a matter of social convention that says I shouldn't.")

Penny just gives Leonard a thankful smile when he turns back to look at her, and then swiftly changes the topic at the next available chance.

She sleeps restlessly that night, and feigns sleep the next morning when Leonard quietly gets up from beside her to prepare for work. Normally she loves getting ready together, usually (okay – always) sneaking in extra kisses before they go their separate ways for the day, but her uneasiness from the evening before has transformed into a near full-on panic.

Besides, it isn't unusual for her to sleep in on a day off, she reminds herself to soften the guilt from avoiding him.

Penny listens as he moves from her bathroom to the rest of the apartment, and then his opening and closing of her kitchen cabinets. When he returns a few minutes later she concentrates on keeping her breathing slow and steady, and is surprised when she feels him press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"Love you," he whispers, and Penny isn't sure how much longer she can maintain this fake-sleep thing (did he always do this when she slept in?), but then he moves to gather his things, and she hears the apartment door open and close and the sound of his key in the lock from the other side.

Her eyes open but she forces herself to wait in bed for just a little longer, slowly counting to sixty in case he realizes he forgot something and returns. As soon as the minute is up she jumps out of bed and quickly gets dressed.

There is half a pot of coffee waiting for her in the kitchen, as she knew there would be, and she pours a cup and has it halfway to her mouth before freezing.

Caffeine is bad for the baby. If there is a baby. Is she supposed to start eliminating caffeine when she doesn't even know if she was pregnant yet?

Rather than debate the topic with herself further, Penny decides she doesn't have time for coffee right now anyway.

The nearest drugstore is only a few minutes away, and Penny recites lines for an upcoming audition as she drives in an attempt to keep her mind occupied. She is in and out of the store in less than two minutes, after grabbing the first familiar brand she sees, and all too soon she is back in her apartment, the bathroom door locked against the rest of the world.

She rips open the box and reads the instructions – in a nutshell, the same as always, pee and wait.

So she pees. And now she waits.

Three minutes to go.

Her mind flashes to the handful of pregnancy tests she's taken in the past. Rather than nerves, she remembers feeling a naïve confidence – a belief that she couldn't be pregnant because her plan was to move to Hollywood and become famous, and a baby did not fit into that plan.

She's terrified now.

Because a kid is like, a really big deal, and she understands that more now, and realizes that there's no guarantee or proof that this will all go away.

And she still hasn't even admitted to Leonard that she loves him yet. She's beyond the point of denying it to herself, but still the thought of telling him scares her for reasons she can't quite explain. So how is she supposed to tell him she's pregnant?

If she's pregnant.

Two minutes.

She closes her eyes. Images pop into her mind of Leonard as a child – old photos that his sister had uploaded to Facebook not long ago. Chubby fingers, a mop of dark curly hair, even at two his eyebrows drawn in concentration as he hovers over a book. Before she can stop herself she pictures a similar boy with blond hair, and she's surprised at the longing that surges through her.

Leonard would be an amazing dad, she has no doubt about that. And they're in a good place right now, better than they ever were the first time around.

But it's still too soon. Way too soon.

One minute.

She could really use a glass of wine right now.

Oh god. If she's pregnant she can't have wine for nine months.

She just wants a pregnancy that's planned so she and the father can eagerly wait for the test results together, and she can prepare for the loss of alcohol rather than being forced to quit cold turkey.

(Penny knows it's ridiculous, but focusing for the moment on the alcohol and not the potential baby is helping to keep her from spiraling further into panic.)

The timer on her phone beeps.

Holding her breath she reaches for the test, and she's thinking of the pictures of Leonard again, and how he was making faces at that baby last week in the Cheesecake Factory when he thought she wasn't looking, and oh God please just not yet.

It's negative.

Penny lets the air out of her lungs in a whoosh.

Not yet.

Yeah, she's going to need that wine now.

She moves to drop the test into the trash, but there's no way she wants to risk Leonard finding it, and the stress of the morning has exhausted her to the point where the thought of the walk down to the garbage bins and back up is simply unbearable. She wonders where to hide it, then smiles for the first time all day as she thinks of the perfect place.

The box isn't exactly hidden, just buried under clothes in her closet, but nearly three years in and Leonard has yet to find it, so Penny's confident her secret is safe. She drops the test in among the assortment, telling herself she'll retrieve it later to throw it out.

She never does.