*knock….knock, knock….*

Chell looked up curiously from the newspaper she had been reading, turning her head to the left and right, trying to pinpoint exactly where the random knocking sound was coming from.

"Oh boy," she thought. "What's he got into now?"

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and Chell and Wheatley had volunteered to look after Aaron's store that day while he and Garret ran some errands to Depot. On this particular day they didn't have very many customers come in, so naturally Wheatley became very bored with the situation very quickly. For a while he was able to occupy himself with cleaning and tidying up some of the shelves and display tables - while chattering on about this and that with Chell half listening as she tended the front counter - but after knocking over a greeting card rack, and nearly shattering some glass bottles not five minutes after that, he opted to just milling about for a while instead.

At times like this, Chell just wished that if he was bored or not enjoying things, he would simply say so and go find something else to do elsewhere. But it was also at times like this that the residual effects of his experience in Aperture Science began to show through. Chell could tell that even before Aperture, Wheatley must have been a rather outgoing sort of person, so it was only natural that he would want to be around other people as much as possible. However, after all of the traumatizing events of the last God-knew-how-many-years in that place, and having only been out of there and back from space for a few months, he had become even more dependent on another person's company - namely Chell.

While Wheatley's curiously and need to be on the move and doing things would cause him to 'strike out on his own' at times, he never went very far from where Chell was if he could help it. Sure, Chell knew one reason why was because they were best friends, and she figured having his consciousness thrust back into his old body all of sudden would certainly require time for him to recover from the shock, but it wasn't easy when his behavior could also be borderline on clingy at times. He would get almost panicky if she would leave without telling him where she was going, or if she didn't come back exactly when she said she would. Needless to say, it could be very tiresome.

Yet in recent weeks he did seem to be getting better, and Chell could also sympathize with his condition – or at least try to have patience with him – as she too knew very well the horrors of that place they had left behind. Another person's company could be a great comfort when the memories of Aperture and what happened there reared their ugly heads, or when any other bizarre residual effects of it could be felt at the most random times. Wheatley had been a great help to her in that area – doing everything from talking her out of nightmares, to constantly telling her he understood her fears, to holding her on the very rare occasions when she literally needed a shoulder to cry on, or just knowing when to make a good cup of tea for her and talk about nothing in particular in order to help ease her tense mind. While Chell's other friends in Eaden had been a great help in their own ways (for which she would always be extremely grateful), there were some things that she simply could not talk to them about, or be able to adequately express to them what she was feeling or what she needed when it was in connection to Aperture and testing. Wheatley, however, was the only one who could sympathize with her on that point. When she thought about it, she had come to depend on him to a degree as well. Or at least, she felt that her overall wellbeing had improved now that Wheatley had come into her life. So she felt like she could certainly give him time to adjust to his new situation, and try her best to help him through his own scars and nightmares and lack of self-confidence-

*…knock, knock…*

"Well, looks like duty calls then."

As the noise came again, Chell sighed as she set down the paper, went around to the other side of the counter, and began making her way through the shelves and tables set up around the large room. At the other end of the large room was the furniture section of the store. While the citizens of Eaden were not big on having a lot of furniture in their homes, Aaron still found it good to have even a small selection of the more practical pieces of furniture available just in case. One of the newest pieces he had gotten in from New Detroit was an antique wardrobe, which had somehow miraculously survived the Combine invasion and all its conflicts. As Chell came around one of the dressers, she found Wheatley stooped down into the wardrobe, having shoved the coats that were in it aside, and was now knocking on the back of it at various points.

*…knock knock knock…*

Unlike Chell herself, Wheatley was not the type to process things internally. That is, if he encountered something that he felt might require action or investigation of some sort, he wouldn't simply step back for a moment and analyze the situation before acting on it. Rather, he would just dive into things and sort through the consequences as they came about, which they inevitably did. He also tended to be very tactile in his investigations of things (now that he had hands with which to pick up, feel, and examine things), thus adding a whole new level of possibilities to what he could get up to. Through the coats, Chell could hear him muttering to himself, and while she couldn't make out what he was saying she knew the tone well. Whatever it was about the wardrobe that had him fascinated all of a sudden, it was also leaving him very confused.

As Wheatley began to back out of the wardrobe, he caught sight of movement behind him in the mirror hanging inside the wardrobe door. This startled him so much he jumped slightly, yelping in both surprise and pain as the top of his head made contact with the wardrobe's doorframe.

"Gah! Ow! Oh ow, what the bloody-" Wheatley turned, rubbing the sore spot on his head, to see Chell standing behind him with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised questioningly. A small, amused smile began tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Oh, it's just you luv," Wheatley said with a sigh of both relief and irritation. "Man, you really need to stop sneaking up on me like that! You nearly gave me a heart attack! And especially since I actually have a real heart now, I would appreciate it if you tried not to do that. Just make some sort of announcement as you're coming up behind me next time, or-or cough or something. I believe I've mentioned before how coughing would definitely be adequate-"

"I'll try to remember," said Chell, interrupting him, and looking around him at the open doorway of the wardrobe. "What were you doing in there anyway?"

"Ah, erm, yes…well," said Wheatley, who was know fiddling with his necktie in what looked like mild embarrassment. "You see, uh, this-this might sound just a liiittle crazy, but then we've both had some really crazy experiences, so, maybe you'll understand where I'm coming from when I tell you this. But also, uh, I don't want to freak you out, ok, because what I'm about to tell you may be…er, unpleasant. Because…well…you see…"

At this point, Wheatley quickly looked around to make sure they really were alone. When he was sure there was nobody else there, he bent down towards Chell and whispered, "…It…It involves portals."

Chell raised both eyebrows at this. While the word 'portals' certainly brought back unpleasant memories, she was far more confused than disturbed upon hearing him say this. Taking her silent stare as his cue, Wheatley continued frantically, his intention of whispering having only held for the single previous sentence.

"Now-now I know what you're thinking, I know what you're thinking. Yes, we are very, very far away from any, uh, portal devices…or surfaces and the like. Well actually, that was why I was knocking on the back of it you see. I was making sure, absolutely sure, that there wasn't a portal surface at the back of this thing. And, good news! I can assure you there's absolutely no signs of any moon dust or conversion gel or any of that sort of stuff on it. So, that's a relief. And-and I know what you're thinking now then, you're thinking, 'Well duh Wheatley, of course there's no portal surface there, and there's no reason why there should be.' Except…"

Wheatley paused again, no longer fiddling with his tie but now shifting his glasses up on his forehead and rubbing and pinching the bridge of his nose between his eyes, as if trying to conjure up a vague memory. "Ok, again, I know this sounds crazy, but I have this…idea. Or this picture in my head, of seeing or hearing about portals possibly being in the backs of these things." Bringing his glasses back down on his nose, he continued.

"And, seriously, that being a possibility scares the crap out of me! I mean, like I said, we're miles away from…from that place…but especially after seeing those two goons of Hers come and plaster portals on the sides of barns like there's nothing to it, the last thing I wanted was another way for Her to reach us here. And-and so I thought that if it's true that wardrobes are prone to have portals hidden in them, I had better make sure this one bloody well doesn't! Plus, get this, I also recall something about how these wardrobe portals can also really mess with time and space, even more than regular portals already do! I think I remember something about time stopping altogether, or that they somehow make the wardrobe bigger on the inside than they are on the outside – or wait, wait, I may be getting that mixed up with another telephone-booth-like-thingamy device. Sorry, a lot of this is a blur. But, but I'm pretty sure, ok, that – you're not gonna believe this – but that talking animals were in fact involved in this too. I know, I wouldn't have believed it either! But I'm almost positive on this one. And if this is that place we're talking about, I wouldn't put it past the scientists to have attempted to make animals talk. Don't know why they would want to do that to animals, not like they ever did them any harm, but then again they-"

"Ahem." Chell made a small coughing noise, prompting Wheatley to get back on track with what his original point was.

"Oh, yes, right sorry. Now, where was I? Oh yeah, so anyway, I was just making sure that this wardrobe was safe to have around. And…yeah, I guess it is. Heh, not-not quite sure why I got so worked up there before. I guess it was just…uh," Now Wheatley looked down at the floor between his shoes, and began rubbing the back of his neck with more mild embarrassment. "I guess…well, a bit silly I suppose, considering how you're one of the most capable and independent persons I've ever met, but I sorta considered it my…Well, my responsibility, to you, to make sure that you - and everyone else as well really, but particularly you - that you were safe. Because, I just feel responsible for-for your safety now, and I couldn't bear it if….well, if She ever got a hold of you again."

Wheatley looked up sheepishly at her. "If-if that makes any sense."

For a whole five seconds, Chell wasn't sure how to respond. She had known that all of the previous attempts on her life and safety had haunted Wheatley quite a bit – especially since he had been one of those who attempted to murder her at one point – and she figured that it was probably one of the reasons why he had stuck so close to her these last several months, but now she finally realized just how big of a reason that really was. Wheatley had been sticking to her like glue, not just because he was insecure with himself, but mostly because he apparently felt the need to be her protector. Of course Eaden was the last place anyone would want to do her any harm, but after being on hair-trigger alert for so long, it also made sense that Whealtey would need time before he realized it too.

As Chell looked at him thoughtfully, Wheatley began to look uncomfortable, thinking that perhaps he had offended her or upset her somehow in telling her all that he did. But soon enough, she was giving him one of those looks – a look that was for him alone – and shaking her head in a way that portrayed both bewilderment at his bizarre train of thought, and also great fondness for his touching confession. She strode forward to him, hugging him around the waist, to which he gladly returned the gesture.

"Still," she heard him say above her. "I really do wonder why I had this idea of a portal being in the back of a wardrobe in the first place. That's going to be bothering me now. Maybe one of the talking animals told me about it before…"