It was a quiet morning. Much too quiet for Wheatley's taste. The quiet reminded him of how alone he was in Aperture, and how big the world seemed to be. He looked in the living room to find Chell with her eyes closed, leaning forward with her bottom up.
"Uh, Chell? That seems like a very uncomfortable position and place to fall asleep in. We have a very comfortable bed, you know. Very soft. With pillows and blankets and a warm Wheatley to cuddle with... that is, if you want. I certainly wouldn't complain if you did, just saying." Wheatley rambled. Chell opened one eye to look at him and put a finger to her lips.
"Yoga." she said. They were still working on the whole talking business and she still said very little, but at least it was getting easier to know what she wanted and now it seemed she wanted him quiet. That concept was something Wheatley really needed to work on.
"Yoga?" he asked, not knowing what that was. "What's it, exactly?"
"Relaxing." Chell stood up and stretched her arms and legs. A soft voice could be heard and Wheatley moved behind Chell and saw a woman on the TV, doing the same poses and talking in soft tones that made him feel sleepy.
"Oh, of course. Yoga. Relaxing... Stretching... Knew it the whole time. Used to do it loads back in... that other place." Wheatley said, trying to pass as smooth. Chell patted the spot next to her, indicating he should join her. He smiled, loving every chance he could have personal time with Chell. It was quiet for a while and Chell, at first, thought that yoga was something they could enjoy together. Until she heard him scream. She opened her eyes and looked behind her. At first she didn't see him. That is, until she looked up. Wheatley was hanging from the ceiling fan by his clothing. He slowly rotated from the fan's motion.
"That lady is not a very good teacher, is she? Instructions were very unclear. I, uh... got caught on the ceiling fan. It just snuck up on me and is now holding me prisoner." Chell facepalmed herself. "Don't kick yourself, luv, it was that lady's fault, not you-aaaAAAAHHH!" Wheatley, still attatched to the fan, came crashing to the ground. Broken wires hung from the ceiling where the fan used to hang. Wheatley was sprawled on the floor, face down. The broken ceiling fan was now even more damaged. He raised his head, dazed, but otherwise unhurt. He looked up at Chell and gave her a nervous, goofy grin. "Ceiling fans aren't very strong, are they? Should get that fixed. Preferably soon." Chell smiled and shook her head. Typical Wheatley. She helped him up from the ground and picked up the broken fan to throw out. She dumped it in the trash bin outside and saw Wheatley with his shirt pulled up, looking at his front. A bruise was starting to form on his chest. He looked at her with wide eyes.
"It hurts." He said, sounding a bit childish. Chell sighed. She walked over to him and kissed the bruise. He wiggled a little; her soft lips tickled the sensitive skin. Chell began to walk towards the kitchen, but he reached for her arm. She turned around, confused.
"I don't think that one worked. It still hurts." he said. Chell smiled, looking at him and seeing through his plan, but came back to kiss the forming bruise once more. "One more time?" Wheatley asked. Chell shook her head and went to start their breakfast.