Today. Let it be today.

Caroline had been working at Aperture Science for two years, 11 months, five days.

She had been in love with her boss for two years, 11 months, and seven hours.

She didn't know how it had happened, or why. He hadn't told a joke, he hadn't asked her to dinner. He'd looked at her with a surprised, delighted, genuine smile when she'd offered to start going through the drifts of paper on his office floor, staying quiet as a mouse while he wrote and made phone calls.

"Well, thanks, sweetheart."

And she was a goner. But she was not living in a tragic, unrequited romance, and she would not pine away for nothing, because he loved her too. She knew he did.

Sometimes, you just know that someone cares for you, even if they've never said anything about it… yet. He'd met her eyes that first day and something had happened. She knew it. She knew he knew it. She just couldn't be the one to break that barrier of professionalism first.

He hadn't been the one to interview her, to rescue her from the steno pool. He'd barely looked up the first time she'd knocked softly and peeked into his office.

"Who are you? Where's Delores?"

"You fired her, sir," she'd whispered.

"Oh. So I did. And you are?"

"Caroline, Mr. Johnson."

He briefly looked up, held her gaze her a second, then smiled distractedly, with closed lips.

"Caroline. Well, aren't you a picture. Coffee, two sugars, thanks."

But it was an hour later, when he called her sweetheart, that she had fallen irretrievably, irreversibly in love.

She knew that he called all the young ladies sweetheart. But over the days, months, and years, she had learned that she was the only one he smiled at like that. Ever.

But now it had been two years, eleven months, and five days, and every day she picked up his dry-cleaning and took dictation and listened to him passionately talk about taking over the world with science… colloquially, of course. She knew he meant saving the world with science.

With her, he was earnest. His eyes lit up, and he told her about all his dreams for the future, because she really understood him. She had lasted longer than any secretary he'd ever had.

And today (admittedly, like every other day that came before this one) would be the day he took her hands, looked deep into her eyes, and said-
"Caroline, are the compensation vouchers ready?"

Oh.
"Yes, sir!" As if he had to ask. His suit jacker was folded over one of her arms, the Aperture Science compensation vouchers held delicately in the fingers of her other hand. She held them aloft, and he grinned. That grin.

Cave Johnson wasn't his real name, but one he had chosen for himself when he went into shower curtain sales. She would never tell anyone, of course; she would take the secret to her grave, not that she knew the name he was born with, anyway. She figured the name you picked would reflect you more than any name given to you. She thought he was brave. He was the American Dream personified.

All he needed was the wife to take care of him, and… 2 children. A boy and a girl.

But for now, he had an assistant. And she was determined to continue to be his right arm. He needed her. She was as exacting as he was. She loved the work as much as he did. She loved him as much as he loved himself.

But there was science to do.

In the depths of Aperture, she looked in at various groups of scientists, examining the projects they were working on, making careful notes, and reporting back upstairs to him. It had taken a year before he had trusted her enough to ask her to do that for him.

No other assistant he had ever had had made it that far.

She wore it as a badge of honour.

And she really believed, really believed in what Aperture was doing. Walking through the halls, the cavernous testing chambers, sent thrills down her spine every day.

And there was her friend.

"Mornin', Miss Caroline!" burbled Dr. Richard Montgomery in his customary cheerful Southern drawl.

She smiled back. "Good morning, Richard."

"Ma'am, how many times do I havta ask you to call me Rick?"

"As usual, at least one more time." She patted him on the arm and he tipped her a wink.

Richard was nice. When Mr. Johnson was in one of his moods, she would duck downstairs to check out what he was developing. It was always weird, but it was always interesting.

"Show me what you're working on?"