To get Elena's attention, Penny didn't say a word. Instead, she stepped close and playfully bumped her hip against Elena's, a lingering, cheeky nudge that broke the professional air Elena had been holding. With a slow, deliberate tilt of her head, Penny signaled with her eyes toward the bedroom, her lips curving into a daring smile.
"So," Penny said, her voice dropping into a playful, sultry register. "The apartment is clean, the guys are busy, and I'm feeling a lot more sober than I was last night." She held Elena's gaze, the fire in her eyes unmistakable. "Do you think we could go back in there? I'd really like to explore those toys of yours... properly this time."
Elena's breath hitched. The "Alpha" who had just lectured the room on individual responsibility felt her own control slip for a fraction of a second. She reached out, her hand finding the small of Penny's back, guiding her toward the bedroom.
Penny had left a Tupperware of cheesecake in the fridge with a sticky note: "For my lovely genius. Don't forget to take a break. Love, P."
Elena stared at the loopy handwriting, the "honeymoon feel" returning with a painful, sharp edge. Penny was pure—she believed in a world where the biggest problem was a bad shift at work or a broken elevator. She was the kind of woman who left notes and believed in "someday."
Elena looked back at the schematics on her laptop. The reports from Angie were getting worse; three more disappearances in the last three days, all of them teenagers.
A tear pricked Elena's eye, but she blinked it back, her jaw setting. The kinder Penny was, the more Elena realized she had to preserve her edge. She had to prepare herself and maybe even her friends. If Penny was the light, then Elena would find a way to preserve that light.
The first week of August brought a heatwave to Pasadena and a discreet change in power to 2311 Los Robles. While the legal transfer was the biggest Investment Elena ever made, she kept quiet about it. While She didn't really care about her friends knowing, they didn't need to know, so—the "Landlord" was a nameless holding company.
A formal notice appeared on the lobby bulletin board: Under New Management. Renovations to Begin Immediately. Please Direct Rent to [Account 402-X].
"New landlord," Leonard noted, squinting at the paper. "Think they'll finally fix the elevator?"
"If I were you, I would hope they don't find residue of the rocket fuel you brought into our apartment and I had to dump into the elevator," Sheldon remarked, heading up the stairs.
Later that evening, the apartment was quiet. Penny was draped across Elena's sofa, her feet in Elena's lap, looking exhausted after a double shift.
"Penny," Elena said softly, tracing circles on Penny's ankle. "I have a confession. And a proposal."
Penny opened one eye. "If the confession is that you didn't leave me any cheesecake, I already know."
"Hey! But no, Not that," Elena smiled. "I bought the building. All of it."
Penny sat up so fast she nearly fell off the cushions. "You what? Elena, that's... that's insane! How much do you make on those mobile games?"
"Enough," Elena smiled. "And I want to do something for you. As of today, your rent is zero. Live here, stay in 4B, use the money for acting classes, headshots, whatever you need. While I don't believe you would quit your job and rely on me fully, I really want to reduce the burden on you." She paused, watching Penny's expression soften, and added, "But if you would focus solely on your career, I would love to support you fully."
Penny didn't answer immediately. She looked around her apartment—the place she had struggled to keep for years. "Elena... that's the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me. I don't know if I can just stop working, but knowing I don't have to worry about the rent... thank you, honey."
Penny leaned in, kissing her deeply, the weight of the city seeming to lift off her shoulders. "You're incredible. You know that, right?"
Elena enjoyed the intimacy and, after a long, deep kiss, added, "I am not done, quite yet. You know the comic idea I offered Stuart? I was thinking one of the protagonists could have your likeness. Would you be okay with that? I was thinking we could make some recordings for the game later with your voice and you could get some earnings from the sales. And if it goes as well as I hope, we will at some point make a movie out of it – well, that may take a few years still. But who would be better than the voice actor for the role? But I need your agreement before Stuart really starts drawing. What do you think?"
Penny pulled back just an inch, her eyes searching Elena's. "My likeness? You mean, people would be playing a game... as me? Looking like me?"
"A version of you," Elena clarified, her voice soft but certain. "Stronger, perhaps a bit more cybernetic, but with your fire. I want to build the brand around you, Penny. If the character becomes a hit, no studio in Hollywood could justify casting anyone else for the film. It's a backdoor to the A-list."
Penny let out a shaky breath, a laugh bubbling up. "God, you really don't do anything halfway, do you? You buy the building, you cancel my rent, and now you want to turn me into a digital icon." She paused, her expression turning earnest. "You really believe in me that much? Even when I'm just serving cheesecake and crying after a failed interview?"
"I don't invest in things I don't believe in," Elena replied, her hand coming up to cup Penny's cheek. "And I believe in you more than I thought I would in anyone."
Penny's gaze intensified, her eyes shimmering with something deeper than just gratitude. "How could I say no to that?" she whispered, leaning into Elena's hand. "I've spent my whole life looking for someone to see me—really see me—the way you do. I trust you."
The air in the room changed. The talk of business faded, replaced by a sudden, electric tension. Penny stood up, but she didn't move away. Instead, she looked down at Elena with a look of playful, hungry authority that Elena rarely saw outside of their private hours.
"My big, powerful landlord," Penny whispered, her voice dropping an octave. "Making moves in secret, managing the boys, taking care of me... you must be exhausted from all that responsibility."
Elena felt that familiar, delicious thrill pull at her chest. Her proactive mind shut off, replaced by a deep desire to simply be led.
Without breaking eye contact, Penny walked to the apartment door. She turned the deadbolt with a slow, deliberate click and slid the security chain into place. The sound echoed in the quiet room.
She walked back to Elena, reaching down to take her hand. Her grip was firm—the "Nebraska farm girl" strength coming to the fore.
"I think it's time you let someone else make the decisions for a while," Penny said, tugging Elena up from the sofa.
Elena didn't resist, letting her body lean into Penny's lead. As they moved toward the bedroom, the mask of the strategist slipped away, replaced by the simple, grounding need to be led. They had found a rare, wordless rhythm together; sometimes it was Elena who provided the direction her life demanded, but tonight, she was more than happy to trade roles. Behind that locked door, they traded the power back and forth, each taking turns being the anchor the other needed to finally let go.
---
The following weeks passed in a mechanical blur of grinding metal and the rhythmic thrum of progress. To the outside world, 2311 Los Robles was just another Pasadena apartment building undergoing a noisy face-lift. To Elena, it was a tactical expansion.
Replacing the old, broken elevator was the perfect smokescreen. While the official crew worked on the visible shafts, Elena deployed her own "specialists" during the night.
Deep beneath the basement floor, four-legged excavation robots—whisper-quiet and guided by Angie—clawed into the California bedrock. They weren't just digging; they were sophisticated masonry units. As they carved out the space, they stabilized the walls with reinforced concrete and bricks, creating a structural shell that was virtually undetectable from the surface.
The complexity was staggering. She had to coordinate the delivery of mortar, water, and thousands of extra bricks without raising a red flag with the city inspectors.
The human workers provided the biggest challenge, but also the best cover.
"Ma'am," the foreman said one Tuesday, wiping sweat from his brow as he pointed to the near-empty supply pallet. "I'm telling you, someone is stealing your materials. We're short another three pallets of bricks, and your waste container was overflowing again this morning. It looks like the whole neighborhood is using it as a private dump."
Elena looked at him, deliberately softening her gaze to appear slightly overwhelmed. "Oh dear. Again? I… I don't want any trouble with my new neighbors. Then the paperwork... the delays..."
"But you're paying for all this, Miss," the foreman pressed, his tone shifting from professional concern to a hint of patronizing pity.
"I'll just order more," Elena sighed, waving a dismissive hand. "As long as the elevator reaches the roof as soon as possible, I'm happy. Let them have some bricks."
As the foreman walked away, shaking his head and muttering to his crew about the "rich girl with more money than sense," Elena's expression instantly flattened back into cold calculation. Let them think she was a pushover. If they thought she was incompetent, they wouldn't look closer at the sheer volume of dirt being moved.
She had already reached Sub-Level 6. The "construction waste" filling ten containers instead of two was 80% bedrock from her secret sanctum.
As the elevator work peaked, Elena redirected the crew to the exterior. The notice on the lobby bulletin board was phrased with professional courtesy:
NOTICE: New management is installing internal access for the dual-sided waste disposal system. To complete the indoor hookups, workers will require access to all units between 9:00 AM and 4:00 PM next Tuesday or Wednesday. If you cannot be home, please leave your key with the building liaison, Elena (Unit 5A), who has volunteered to supervise the contractors.
"Oh, thank god," Leonard sighed as he read the flyer, leaning against the wall with two leaking bags of trash in his hands. "A waste chute. Do you have any idea how much I hate carrying down the garbage?"
"It is a nice upgrade," Sheldon admitted, though he looked suspicious. "However, I am uncomfortable with 'workers' in my apartment and you were perfectly fulfilling your duties. Do you really want to lose your purpose?"
But Elena knew, it was only about Strangers being in his apartment. "I'll be there the whole time, Sheldon," Elena said, leaning against her doorframe with a cup of tea. "I'll make sure they don't touch a single comic book. You guys just need to drop your key off on your way to the university."
While Sheldon didn't say anything, Leonard didn't even hesitate. "Done. Elena, you're a lifesaver."
The installation was a masterpiece of hidden intent. Deep in the bedrock of Sub-Level 6, her excavation robots worked in a constantly, and thanks to the workers noise, No one heard a thing till they were deep enough to muffle the sounds of breaking rocks. They created a bucket system that carried waste up and dumped it to the trash chute. If she limited to bots, the apartment building simply had a bit more garbage than another one. But no one cared about things like that. She hoped.
Elena spent the afternoon in 4A, ostensibly "supervising" the plumber and the drywaller. She watched as they worked, their movements sloppy and their attitudes dismissive toward her.
"Hey, lady," the plumber called out, wiping his greasy hands on his pants. "The owner of this place must be loaded. This is a lot of money to spend so a bunch of people don't have to walk to the curb."
"I suppose everyone values convenience differently," Elena replied with a polite, vacant smile.
"Yeah, well, easy money for us," he chuckled to his partner. "The owner's paying for the premium 'silent-seal' chutes. Overkill for a place like this, but hey, I'll take the money."
Elena nodded, her mind already calculating the decibel levels. The "silent-seal" wasn't for the trash; it was to ensure that when she was running experiments in the lab six stories down, no one would hear a thing through the pipes.
By Friday, the work was done. Leonard was thrilled, tossing a bag of trash down the chute with the glee of a child at a theme park.
As the contractors packed up their heavy tools and loaded the last of the debris onto their trucks, the lead worker gave Elena a respectful, if slightly condescending, nod. To him, she was the perfect client: a wealthy, slightly eccentric tenant who was so distracted by her own "vision" that she hadn't noticed how much extra he'd cashed in on the side. Between the "replacement" bricks she'd paid for and the extra fees for clearing the "mystery" construction waste, he was walking away with a much larger bonus than he'd initially quoted the management company.
"We're doing a final testing of the elevator with the city inspector tomorrow morning," he told her, checking his clipboard with a satisfied smirk. "Once the permit is signed and we've confirmed it works as it should, the tenants are free to use it."
"Good," Elena said. "I think we're all ready for some peace and quiet."
But as the door closed, Elena's mind was already six floors down. With the chute system operational, she no longer had to worry about the "stolen" bricks or the overflowing containers. She could ramp up the excavation speed.
"Angie," she whispered into her comms once she was back in 5A. "Status on the primary lab floor?"
"The walls and ceiling of first room is done, El. We need to do something about ventilation. The dust from construction is affecting the robots and the cleaning work reduces efficiency significantly."
Elena stood by the window, watching the sunset reflect off the glass of the nearby skyscrapers. Her mind, however, was mapping the internal veins of 2311 Los Robles.
"The fake gutters are a go, Angie," Elena murmured. "We'll integrate the intake vents into the decorative molding of the conservatory. It'll look like architectural flair, but it'll give us the high-volume air exchange we need to keep the sub-levels pressurized and dust-free."
"Acknowledged, El," Angie's voice smoothed over the comms. "I'll adjust the masonry robots to leave the conduit gaps in the shaft tonight. Also, the first batch of the custom power cells has completed its final stress cycle. Would you like the telemetry?"
"Run the report," Elena commanded.
Her laptop screen flickered to life, displaying a series of glowing blue graphs.
Project: 'CNT batteries' (Carbon Nanotube Series 1.0)
Energy Density: 550 Wh/kg.
Charge Cycle Efficiency: 99.8% with zero thermal runaway detected at 150°C.
Structural Integrity: Field-proofed against high-impact kinetic shock
Longevity: Projected 20-year lifespan under 100% load.
"The performance is exceptional," Angie reported. "The CNT lattice structure allows for almost instantaneous discharge without the typical heat signature. In short, El: they are silent, they are incredibly dense, and they are incredible robust. It will give your R2 and any future robot about 3 to 4 times longer runtime."
A grin spread over Elena's face. She is in an extremely dangerous world, but she is catching up.
Weeks later the transformation of the roof was nothing short of a miracle. Elena surveyed the space, feeling a rare sense of professional pride. It looked like a smaller, more relaxed version of a high-end Arasaka jungle floor with a pool—a slice of tropical paradise perched atop a drab Pasadena apartment block.
The center of the roof now featured a sleek glass conservatory, housing lush tropical plants, a small polished bar, and comfortable lounge chairs. Outside the glass, real white sand stretched toward a rim of beach chairs, all carefully layered over complex drainage systems and mold-resistant filters.
The girls—Penny, Bernadette, Alex, and Elena—were already taking full advantage of the heat. They looked stunning in their bikinis, lounging like they had been born for this level of luxury. In stark contrast, the guys huddled together in a corner, wearing oversized t-shirts and looking distinctly out of place.
Elena came from behind the bar, balancing a tray of chilled cocktails. She moved with a predator's grace, serving the girls first with a wink. When she reached the guys, she didn't just hand over the drinks; she caught Leonard's and Howard's eyes and tilted her head, signaling for them to follow her toward the edge of the glass.
"Drink up," Elena said, her voice dropping into that blunt, clinical tone that always made them straighten their backs. She gestured to the specialized glass panels. "I learned these were calibrated to filter out eighty percent of the UV spectrum. You can slowly build a tan without bursting into flames the moment you step outside."
She paused, letting her gaze rake over them with a cold, evaluative look. "But you really should work on a tan and yourselves in general. Think about the dynamics here. What happens to insecure men who can't keep up with the physical presence of women like Bernadette or Alex? They get dumped. If you can't stand by your women as equals, you'll eventually find yourselves replaced by others who can."
The silence was deafening. Howard opened his mouth to defend himself, saw the steel in Elena's eyes, and swallowed hard.
Before any of them managed to find their voice, Elena turned back toward the girls. She raised her own cocktail high, catching Penny's bright, admiring smile.
"To the landlord!" Elena toasted loudly.
"To the landlord!" the girls cheered in unison.
"By the way," Elena added, turning back to the stunned group of men. "As I was overseeing the final walk-throughs, it turns out the landlord had the guts to terminate the agreements of those tenants who refused access for the upgrades. That means 2A, 3B, and 5B are about to become vacant. Some of you might think of moving in, even if just to enjoy this beautiful pool."
Elena took a slow sip of her drink, the ice clinking against the glass. Penny, already stretched out on a large, cushioned lounge chair, adjusted her position, sliding over to the edge to create an inviting space. She patted the warm fabric beside her, a playful, knowing spark in her eyes.
Elena didn't hesitate. She set her tray down and settled into Penny's side. She felt the radiating warmth of the sun and the soft, sun-warmed skin of Penny against her own.
From this vantage point, she watched the others. Leonard and Howard were tentatively peeling off their t-shirts, looking like Vampires suddenly exposed to the light.
"They're actually doing it," Penny whispered, leaning her head against Elena's.
Stuart approached them, looking uncharacteristically vibrant. He was still wearing a t-shirt, but he was holding a physical copy of Cyberpunk 2077: Issue #1. The cover featured the "V" likeness of Penny, neon-drenched and fierce. "The first print run sold out in four days. The digital sales are... well, they're actually high enough that I can eat meat for dinner again."
"That's amazing, Stuart!" Penny cheered, reaching out to high-five him.
Stuart looked down in direction of the empty 5B unit, then at Elena. "I heard what you said. About the vacant apartments. If the royalty checks keep coming in like this... do you think the landlord would take a chance on a comic book shop owner? I'm tired of sleeping in the shop, and honestly, the air quality up here is better for my asthma."
Elena looked at Stuart, noting with a quiet satisfaction that his usually pasty, gray-ish skin looked a bit more lively today. The stress of being one missed sale away from homelessness was fading, replaced by the glow of a man who finally had a project to be proud of. Having a bit more stable income and less worry suited him well, she thought.
"I'll ask the management if it's okay and give you a heads-up soon," Elena said. "I think this could work out well for you."
As Stuart wandered off toward the bar, looking lighter than he had in years, Penny sighed. She leaned back against Elena, watching the group. "It's a miracle getting most of them up here, but we still didn't manage to get Sheldon out of the apartment."
Elena glanced toward the elevator. "He's still downstairs?"
"Yep," Penny lamented. "Even though the conservatory is technically indoors, he refused to come up. He said the sensation of sand beneath his feet is unhygienic and that he doesn't trust where the sand you used was coming from."
Elena let out a long, weary sigh. "Yeah. I guess I should do something about that."
She reached into the back of her memory, pulling out fragments of a past life—memories of a neurobiologist named Amy Farrah Fowler. In the world Elena remembered, Amy was the only person capable of truly managing, and eventually evolving, Sheldon Cooper.
She looked at the group of "nerds" laughing and arguing. Now that Leonard was happy with Alex and Howard was settled with Bernadette, Elena feared the guys were too distracted to ever get around to setting Sheldon up for online dating. If she left it to them, Sheldon would remain a chaotic, isolated, and increasingly frustrated element in her otherwise stable environment.
"What's that look for?" Penny asked, looking up from Elena's shoulder. "You have that 'I'm about to meddle' look on your face."
"I was just thinking of finding a girl for Sheldon. Wouldn't it be fun proving to Sheldon he is wrong?" Elena asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
Penny laughed, a genuine, mischievous sound. "Oh, that would be better than fun. That would be a miracle. You really think there's a woman out there who wouldn't run screaming after five minutes of his 'fun facts' about trains?"
"I think," Elena said, her mind already wondering how to approach Amy, "that for every specific lock, there is a very specific key."