Ali POV
The scent of synthetic cobwebs and cheap candy filled the apartment. Penny had fully committed to transforming our living room into a haunted house, complete with flickering orange lights and a plastic skeleton taped to the bathroom door. I sat cross-legged on the floor with my laptop balanced on a pillow, editing a chapter about an alien huntress stranded on a hostile planet. The irony wasn't lost on me as Penny spun in front of the mirror for the fifth time in a sequined, too-short, cheerleader costume.
"I look hot, right?"
I didn't even look up. "You look like you're about to get mistaken for a high schooler with boundary issues."
"Perfect," she grinned. "Are you coming to the party or not?"
I sighed and finally glanced up. "Depends. Will there be alcohol strong enough to bleach that image from my brain?"
She tossed a fake rat at me. "Come on, it'll be fun! Sheldon said he's going. I practically threatened him with public affection if he didn't show."
That got a smile out of me. "Fine. But only because I know you'll need someone to block creeps."
Later, while Penny raided her closet for a backup costume option, I pulled on my Artemis tunic and adjusted the silver bracers I'd hot-glued earlier that morning. Just to be a brat, I snapped a mirror selfie of the costume—complete with bow and toy quiver—and texted it to Sheldon with the message: *"Reporting for Halloween duty. If you can't name this goddess in under three seconds, I get to steal your spot on the couch for a week."
His response was instantaneous: "You are Artemis. Greek goddess of the hunt, wilderness, and childbirth. Not to be confused with Diana, her Roman counterpart. May I please retain my seat?"
"You may," I replied. "And I'll save you a cupcake."
His response came slower this time: "I am attending as The Doppler Effect. If you don't understand, I'll send a PowerPoint."
Naturally.
I spent the next hour placing fake cobwebs on every light fixture, setting out a tray of store-bought cupcakes, and organizing the snack table with a tragic level of precision. Penny had gone full fog machine by the time guests started arriving, and we turned the music up just enough to shake the floor but not enough to get us evicted. I wasn't saying I was excited for this party—but I was definitely more invested now that Sheldon was showing up in full Doppler gear. Whatever that is.
By the time I stepped out of my room, the party was in full swing. Music thumped low through the floorboards, and people I didn't recognize were pressed against every surface. I made a beeline for the drink table and poured myself something dangerously orange. My Artemis costume got a few approving nods—mostly from people who clearly thought I was a sexy Robin Hood—but that was fine. At least no one tried to grope me.
"Ali," Sheldon's voice cut clean through the noise. He was standing near the kitchen, arms stiff at his sides, wearing a black jumpsuit painted with concentric rings. "Finally. Artemis suits you. You conveyed the duality of myth and realism with commendable accuracy.""
I raised my drink in a toast. "Goddess of the Hunt. Seemed appropriate."
He nodded. "Very you."
That... felt oddly like a compliment.
Leonard and the guys showed up shortly after. Raj was some sort of Norse warrior, Howard wore a silk robe with antennas glued to his head, and Leonard—poor thing—was Frodo. I almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
Penny greeted them all, but I could see her smile dim the second Kurt walked in.
"That's not good," I muttered, sliding next to her.
"What is he doing here? I didn't invite him."
I handed her my cup. "Hold this. I'm gonna make sure that troll doesn't ruin your party."
I crossed the room, intercepting Sheldon on the way.
"Keep Leonard away from Kurt. The last thing we need is him trying to defend my sister's honor and getting turned into a human pretzel."
"That would be counterproductive," Sheldon agreed. "Although mildly entertaining."
I found Kurt hovering by the drinks, looking like a bouncer at a dive bar. "You here to apologize or flex like a discount Vin Diesel?"
He blinked at me, clearly trying to figure out if I was joking. "I'm just here to talk to Penny."
"No. You're here to drink someone else's booze and hope she forgets how much of a jerk you were. Try again."
He scowled but backed off. I followed his movement like a hawk until I saw him edge toward the door by the snack table with his tail tucked. Good riddance.
Sheldon POV
The party was loud, chaotic, and crawling with social unpredictability. Ali moved through it like a well-armed negotiator in a war zone. I admired her efficiency.
Leonard, however, did not heed her warning.
Kurt had been loitering near the chips when Leonard, emboldened by half a beer and years of latent feelings, puffed up and marched over. What followed was a verbal takedown so swift and humiliating I actually winced.
Ali returned just as Penny pulled Leonard away from Kurt's laughter.
"I told you to keep him occupied," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"He claimed he needed to use the restroom. In retrospect, a distraction involving flaming cheese might have been more effective."
Back in our apartment, Leonard sulked like a kicked puppy. I was about to settle in for the post-mortem analysis of his bruised ego when there was a knock.
It was Ali, now in sweats, holding leftover cupcakes.
"Peace offering," she said, handing me the container. "Also, I needed a break from Penny rehashing every time Kurt messed with her self-esteem."
We sat on the couch. She picked a chocolate cupcake and pulled her knees up.
"Thanks for not causing a scene," she said after a minute. "That's rare around here."
"I've discovered that explosive reactions rarely produce orderly outcomes. Besides, I had no desire to have my nasal bridge relocated."
She laughed, and for a brief second, the apartment felt almost... serene.
"By the way," she added, "I liked your Doppler costume. It was very you."
I smiled, just a little. "Then the evening was not a total loss."
"Would you like to start a show?" I asked, reaching for the remote. The question felt oddly personal, though I hadn't intended it to be. It was simply protocol after hosting.
"Sure," she replied, her voice softer now. Then, to my mild surprise, she leaned against me, her head resting lightly on my shoulder. I stiffened momentarily out of reflex—human contact often requires preparation—but when she didn't move, I allowed it. There was no pressing need to shift.
She fell asleep during the second act of our documentary. I stared down at her for several minutes, unsure of the appropriate response. Touching a sleeping person was not covered in any of my roommate agreements. In a moment of desperation, I retrieved my phone and texted Missy.
Ali fell asleep on me. She's still here. Shoulder contact. Advice?
Her reply came faster than expected: Awww! Just hold her head, lay her gently down, cover her with a blanket, and go to bed, Moonpie.
I followed her instructions with the precision of a trained physicist. Ali didn't stir. As I tucked the blanket around her, I couldn't help but think... perhaps tonight had been a success after all."