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[personal profile] queenriley
Fandom: The Big Bang Theory
Title: The Pesach Incident of 5767
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I only wish they belonged to me. Alas, no such luck.
Summary: Sheldon ruins the Passover seder.
Written for Purim Gifts 2009

“Howard, I’m still not sure why WE have to be here.” Sheldon whined. Howard sighed.

“For the last time, Sheldon, my mother hates having an empty sedar table and you’re the only ones that could come.”

“But we’re not Jewish!” Sheldon complained. Howard pinched the bridge of his nose. This would be a long night.

“Just go sit down. You’ll listen to a story, eat some food, and learn something new about a different culture. Try to approach it as if you’re Spock documenting an important ritual of a newly discovered alien lifeform.” That seemed to appease Sheldon. He hummed and sat down across the table from Leonard. Howard breathed a sigh of relief and sat down next to Sheldon. This was not going to be easy.

Howard’s father handed out the Haggadah and Sheldon studied his quizzically. The wine and washing went over well and Howard was grateful when his father skipped over most of the symbolism speil, giving only a cursory explanation behind the meaning of each morsel on the sedar plates. He rushed through the Hebrew prayers and Howard was grateful at both Raj and Leonard’s efforts to keep up and attempt pronunciation. They’d even managed to get through Howard’s asking of the four questions, embarrassing though that was, without incident. Sheldon had opened his mouth numerous times but Howard, ever vigilant to the possibility of disaster, had kicked him hard each and every time. So far, so good, but his palms were still sweating with anticipation.

It was only upon the reciting of the story of Exodus did Howard’s attempts at controlling Sheldon fail. Halfway through, Howard considered if it wouldn’t have been better to put Leonard next to Sheldon, but he knew that would only have been worse. Leonard wouldn’t have known what was coming or when to prepare to hold Sheldon back, so Leonard wouldn’t have been much more help than Howard himself was being.

“This is nonsense!” Sheldon finally cried out. Howard kicked hard, but it did no good. Sheldon barely flinched, but instead threw his napkin on the table and continued talking.

“I find it incredibly hard to believe that had the enslaved Hebrews not been freed some four thousand years ago, you’d still be slaves in Egypt today, nevermind the utter lack of historical evidence for Hebrew slaves in Egypt at all! And these plagues you speak of are just scientifically improbable.” When Sheldon raised the pitch of his voice like that, Howard knew it was going to be a long rant.

“Sheldon,” he said to get his attention. No luck. Sheldon continued on. Raj and Howard’s family looked on in horror. Leonard looked contrite, though none of this was his fault. Sheldon ranted on for about five minutes about the mess of symbolism, the historical and scientific accuracy involved, and studiously ignored Howard’s cries of “it’s a story” and “tradition”! Howard’s mother was fuming and mumbling, ready to explode any minute, and here, thankfully, Leonard stepped in.

“SHELDON!” he yelled. Sheldon stopped and looked across the table.

“Yes, Leonard?”

“Let’s go have a chat in the living room.”

“In just a minute, Leonard.”

“No, Sheldon. NOW.” Sheldon rose and followed Leonard to the living room where a heated conversation could be overheard. Howard’s father stared at the closed door with eyes wide, the Haggadah forgotten in his hands dipping down into the charoset on his sedar plate. Howard’s mother was glaring at him. He could feel his cheeks burning and took the opportunity to quietly bang his head against the table.

Once Leonard and Sheldon returned, Sheldon sat down quietly and offered a terse apology. He did nothing more than whine under his breath the rest of the night with an occasional giggle thrown in at certain parts. Howard was grateful for his father’s speed, skipping entire sections of the Haggadah in an attempt to be done with it and eat.

When all was said and done, there was really only the one incident. Howard couldn’t rush them out fast enough. They were his best friends, but he knew his mother was going to throw a clot with the struggle of holding back if Sheldon stayed in the house much longer. Sure enough, no sooner had he closed the door than he heard the familiar scratchy voice calling to him from the kitchen.

“HOWARD!” It was going to be a long night.


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May 2012

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