He managed a whole week. The vending machine had been restocked and he had no real need to venture any further from his lab. In fact, he'd mostly forgotten why he'd been avoiding the lunchroom and it wasn't until he sat down with his tray and noticed foodstains on the table that he remembered. He checked the room, but no giant lummoxes were in sight. Good. Maybe he'd forgotten, too. Ideas probably died of oxygen deprivation in that empty head of his. Deciding it was best not to take changes, he ate quickly and left, turning to head back to his lab.

"There you are!" The voice boomed down the hall, cheery and unwelcome. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Craig kept walking, wondering if he could pretend he hadn't heard. A hand clamped on his shoulder and Wheatley swung around in front of him, his hair even more disheveled than before.

"Man alive, you are not going to believe what I found! Come on, I'll show you!"

"Unless it's your brain, I have no interest in-" He found himself being propelled down the hall.

"It'll just take a minute, I promise. Ha! You are not going to believe your eyes!"

"Let me go! I don't want-" He stumbled as he was shoved into a room. What little light there was disappeared with a click as Wheatley latched the door.

"Whoops! Hold on. Should be a, uh, should be a light switch here, somewhere…"

There was a thump and the sound of something being knocked over, followed by Wheatley's apology and rambling narrative in quest for an on switch.

Craig weighed his options, turned around, and tried to aim for the door, hands feeling the air ahead of him.

"Bingo!"

Lights flashed on, blinding him, and then he tripped over a broken mug on the floor, startling a yell out of him.

"Whoops!" Long arms hooked under his, pulling him upright again. "Ha! Caught you. Definitely caught you, there."

Craig flailed his pinned arms, his face mashed against Wheatley's chest. A nervous chuckle rattled against him.

"Y-you know, we, uh, really should stop meeting like this. People are gonna talk."

"Mmph!" He dragged in a lungful of soap, sweat, and cheap cologne and tried to move. He could hear the wild beat of Wheatley's heart.

"Right! Sorry!"

Arms released him and he lurched back, straightening his mussed clothes. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Oh." Wheatley's whole frame sagged. "Oh, this isn't the right room after all."

"Did you know the percentage of-" He broke off. Now that he could see again he looked around the room.

It appeared to be a small office. There were a couple of shabby-looking desks mostly taken up by computers. A long window lined one wall, looking out over an enormous white-paneled room.

"Ooo! There it is!" Wheatley went over to the window, pointing down into the other room. "See there?"

Ignoring him, Craig tried the door. "It's locked."

"Must have got turned about somewhere, but look! That blue thing down there. The glowing one. You'll never guess what it is."

"Can you unlock the door? I need to leave!" He rattled the knob.

"It's a bridge!" Wheatley crowed. "Doesn't look safe, I know, you can see right through it if you squint, but do you know what it's made out of?"

Craig remembered the project. He'd worked on some of the theories. "Compressed sunlight."

Wheatley beamed at him. "Sunlight! Incredible, isn't it? Just goes to show what you can accomplish when you put your mind to it."

"Can you let me out, now?"

Wheatley swaggered over and tried the knob. "Although I- I wouldn't recommend putting your mind on that bridge, actually. Very hot, for sunlight!"

Craig noticed blisters on the man's fingers. He also noticed that the door was still locked. He fought a growing sense of alarm as Wheatley tried the handle with both hands and failed again.

"Well, that's odd. Door seems to be stuck."

"Can you unlock it?" Aperture didn't take kindly to people being in places they weren't supposed to be. If they were found they could easily be killed. Or worse, fired.

"I think I can handle a little old door." He puffed up. "Don't know if you knew this, but I used to be a master hacker back in the day. Yup! Not a door alive that can keep out Wheatley!"

"We are so screwed." Craig sighed. "Maybe I can call R- what are you doing?"

Wheatley had pulled a pencil out of his pocket and was attempting to jam it in the lock.

"Trade secret! Mysterious lockpicking skills, handed down from-"

"No!" Craig grabbed for his arm. "Don't! If that breaks off in there we'll never get out!"

"Hey! Get off! I know what I'm doing!" Wheatley held the pencil over his head. "Ha! Just try and get it now, you little… thing that's lit- oof!"

Craig gave him a sharp poke in the stomach, making him hunch over. He made another grab for the pencil, crashing them both into the door. Part of him knew he was overreacting, but visions of the pencil snapping off in the lock leaving him trapped in here with the babbling idiot made him desperate.

Wheatley hooked an arm around his waist and spun them so that Craig was the one with his back to the door.

"Well, that's not playing very nice, now, is it?" Wheatley's eyes had narrowed and there was a hint of a growl in his voice.

Craig felt his mouth go dry as he tried to think of a response.

"I think we both want the same thing, here, don't we?" Wheatley leaned in, his hair swinging forward to tickle Craig's cheek.

"No. If you try, y- you'll just make it worse." He willed his voice to stay strong and glared up into those too-blue eyes.

"Worse? Or better?" Wheatley started to lower his head.

Without consciously willing it, Craig tilted his face up and kissed him. Wheatley made a startled noise, but then the tension seemed to go out of him and he kissed back.

It was wonderful. And awful. This was a terrible thing to do and absolutely not what he ever intended. He had better taste than this! Smart was sexy, not- not whatever whatever brand of stupid Wheatley was! Stupidity… and a hint of chocolate. Maybe not such a bad taste after all.

Wheatley made a slow move, pulling his hand free. Craig let him, reaching up to splay his fingers against the azure of his shirt. Soft motions, a shift, and then… a click. The kiss broke off.

"Ha! Hacked! Told you I could do it!" He held up the pencil and then tossed it aside, triumph softening into something else. "Now, ah, m-maybe we could try that thing you just did again?"

The door lurched, stopped by their combined weight.

"What the hell?" A muffled voice said from the hall.

Craig leaped away from the door, shoving Wheatley out of his way. Terror flooded his system and his mind went blank as he whirled in time to see the door swing open and crash against the wall. Wheatley yelped, flinching.

"What the fuck are you two idiots doing in my office?" The red-haired man in the hall stared at them.

"Hello! This is a nice office you have here!" Wheatley tried to reach out to shake the man's hand, but he swatted it away.

"This area is restricted! What the hell-"

"Office inspection!" Wheatley nodded enthusiastically. "Just your average… inspectors of offices, right, Inspection Buddy?"

Craig stared up at him, speechless.

"Right! So, ah, everything seems to be pretty much in order, here. Could do with a bit of cleaning, maybe a plant. Make it more festive, but I- I think we'll let that-"

"Get the hell out!"

Craig scrambled to obey, Wheatley hot on his heels. "Sorry for any inconvenience! If you-"

"Scram! Before I have you both committed!"

They ran. Down the hall, around the corner, and finally stopping at an intersection. Craig leaned against the wall, trembling. "That… that was… was…"

"Amazing!" Wheatley laughed. "That was bloody amazing! Wow!"

Craig clutched his chest. "Did- did you know it's possible to die from fear?"

"Oh, what, that guy? Seemed like a regular pushover! Had a calendar with puppies on it on the wall."

Craig had no idea what kind of puppies a guy that angry might like. Probably ones tearing apart people. "That was a mistake. Back there. Everything." He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "You- you misunderstood everything and it's never going to happen again. Ever." He looked up. Wheatley was smiling at him. "No."

"Sorry, love." Wheatley shook his head. "I keep telling you: not a moron. But don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

Craig frantically checked to make sure no one was watching and tried to hush him.

"A-although I suppose it's more our secret, really. A good one. Ours. Good secret."

"I'm leaving." He started to walk away. "I don't want anything to do with you ever again."

"Awww, don't be like that!" Wheatley easily caught up, draping an arm over his shoulders. "Best friends should treat each other better, don't you think?"

"We're not friends!" Craig tried to push him away.

"We will be," Wheatley said. "I have a great sense about these things, y'know. Almost uncanny. And I can tell we're going to be the best of friends!"

"You're going to get us killed." Craig gave up and walked beside him. There'd be time to figure a way out of this later...