As Stuart Bloom In TBBT Chapter 46: The First Date Disaster

Novel: As Stuart Bloom In TBBT Author: WhatIf4132 Updated: Jun 03, 2026

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Now reading: Chapter 46: The First Date Disaster from As Stuart Bloom In TBBT, a Adventure novel by WhatIf4132.

The restaurant's fancy. Not ridiculous fancy, but cloth napkins and wine list fancy.

Penny looks incredible. Black dress, subtle makeup, hair down. She's dressed up. For .

"This is nice," she says, scanning the nu.

"Too much?"

"No. Just—different. Dan never took anywhere that required actual clothes."

"Dan sounds like an idiot."

"Dan was an idiot." She grins over the nu. "You're not an idiot."

"High praise."

"I have very low standards."

The waiter brings wine. We order—pasta for her, chicken for . The conversation flows like it always does. Easy. Natural.

"Can I ask you sothing?" Penny sets down her wine.

"Sure."

"Why now? You could've asked out months ago. Why wait?"

"You had a boyfriend."

"You knew I'd dumped him within hours. So why wait another month?"

Fair question.

"Wanted to make sure it wasn't rebound. That we actually—" I stop. "This sounds stupid out loud."

"Say it anyway."

"Wanted to make sure we were actually into each other. Not just convenient."

She considers this. "That's—Stuart, that's actually really thoughtful. Most guys would've pounced imdiately."

"I'm not most guys."

"No. You're really not."

The lights flicker.

We both look up.

Flicker again. Then: complete darkness.

Ergency lights kick in. Dim, barely illuminating the tables.

"Ladies and gentlen," the manager announces, "we've lost power. Blown transforr. You're all welco to stay, but we can't cook. We'll comp your wine and—"

"Want to get out of here?" I ask Penny.

"Absolutely."

We end up at a Chinese takeout place on Maple.

Penny's leaning against my car in her fancy dress, laughing at the absurdity.

"Best first date ever. Power outage, ergency evacuation, eating takeout in a parking lot."

"We could go sowhere else. Try another restaurant."

"Or—" She tilts her head. "Your place has power, right? And that balcony?"

"Yeah."

"Then let's go there. More private anyway."

The drive takes fifteen minutes. She keeps stealing glances at , smiling.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just—you're handling this really well. Not freaking out about ruined plans."

"Plans are overrated."

"See, Dan would've blad sohow. Made it my fault the power went out."

"Dan's still an idiot."

"Definitely an idiot."

My penthouse balcony at night is actually perfect.

City lights spread below. Spring air warm enough to sit outside. I grab candles from inside—kept them after the power outage last year—and suddenly we're having candlelit dinner on a balcony overlooking LA.

"This is—" Penny looks around. "—okay, this is way better than the restaurant."

"Happy accident."

"Best kind of accident."

We eat straight from containers. No plates, no pretense. Just good food and better company.

"Tell sothing," Penny says around a mouthful of lo in. "How did you get here? Two years ago you were—I'm sorry, but you were kind of depressing. And now you're—this."

She gestures at the penthouse, the balcony, .

"I started trying. Took risks. So worked out."

"That's the sanitized version."

"That's the only version."

"Bullshit. Nobody transforms like this without sothing changing fundantally." She sets down her food. "What changed? Really?"

The tingle flares. Warning.

Can't tell her. Can never tell her.

"I stopped hating myself," I say instead. "Realized failure was choice, not destiny. Decided to be soone different."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

She studies in the candlelight. "You're lying. Or not telling the whole truth. But—" She touches my hand. "—I'll let it go. For now."

"Thank you."

"But eventually, Stuart, you're going to have to let soone all the way in. The real stuff. Not just the success story."

The words hit harder than intended.

She's right. I've built this life on secrets. Every success funded by knowledge I shouldn't have. Every relationship starting from concealed origins.

Nobody knows the real . Because the real died choking on steak in another life.

"Noted," I manage.

We finish eating. Clear the containers. Sit on the balcony furniture watching the city.

"This was perfect," Penny says. "Disaster and all."

"Maybe disasters are good luck for us."

"Then we should probably avoid anything that requires electricity."

"Or functioning infrastructure."

She laughs. Leans against . We sit in comfortable silence.

Then, naturally—no planning, no overthinking—we kiss.

Soft at first. Then deeper. She tastes like Chinese food and wine and possibility.

When we break apart, she's grinning.

"Been wanting to do that for weeks."

"Finally?"

"Finally."

"You said that in your text."

"Because I've been waiting for you to ask out for a month. Wondering if you were going to make a move or if I'd have to."

"You were waiting for ?"

"Stuart. I'm a direct person. If I wasn't interested, I'd have said no when you asked about 'sothing else.' I said yes because I've been hoping you'd ask."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." She kisses again. "So now what?"

"Now we see where this goes?"

"Deal."

She leaves at 1 AM.

I walk her to her car—parked in the building garage, three floors down.

"Thank you," she says. "For tonight. For waiting until it was right. For being—" She stops. "—soone good."

"Thank you for saying yes."

"Thank you for finally asking."

One more kiss. Then she's driving away, waving through her window.

I take the elevator back to my penthouse.

Stand on the balcony where we ate Chinese food and talked for hours and kissed like teenagers.