AN: I have returned, my readers! After several weeks of complete and utter silence, I have returned.

. . .

Nice to be back?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

There was that sound again.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Red, everywhere. Mantis men-ripping through everything in sight.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

A bright light that seared through his retina. A hospital bed.

There he was again- history just loved repeating itself, didn't it?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

". . . cannot afford any more accidents. . ." A voice.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

". . . government's got their eye on us, sir. . ."

Beep. Beep. Beep.

". . .not givin' up Science for. . .stupid government. . .research. . .for Science"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

". . .for humanity, sir. . .?"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Who? Why?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He was a scientist. The world shouldn't be so confusing to him.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The Aperture Science Café was bustling with little-to-no-activity, as it often was at these hours of five o' clock in the evening. Sasha frowned slightly, at the peeling and chipped strips of dried paint that clung desperately to the walls. She'd have to get that fixed, soon- it most certainly did not provide a good atmosphere for her astronauts! Perhaps she'd paint some rocket ships on, the next time- the hearts were getting kind of cheesy, after all.

Marvin was cleaning out the coffee machine- carefully, for once, to avoid plunging the entire facility into yet another coffee-filled disaster. Sasha sighed, as she watched bits of "DEESH WASHING DEETHERGHENT" drip from the rag he was holding. He really was too clumsy and messy for his own good- such a trait got him in the Café Manager's office rather frequently.

She mopped the counter vigorously, for possibly the eighteenth time that day, despite there being few customers to actually get the thing dirty. Sasha had been trying to improve her cooking- she really had, but it seemed her efforts were always in vain. The dreams of becoming a famous chef were always vanquished after a customer made a dash for the washroom. It was rather depressing, really- but Sasha was not one to give in to failure.

"Um. . .Hello? Anyone in there?"

A familiar voice came from the other side of the café' door.

Sasha considered herself to be very good at remembering her customers, but the owner of this particular voice seemed obscure to her-out of reach and distant. Nevertheless, she opened the door. "Welcome, astronaut! How's it going?" she greeted the blue eyed man before her cheerily.

"Hello! It's me- Wheatley! Uh. . ." he trailed off, twiddling his thumbs. At last, Sasha managed to place where exactly she had heard that voice before. "I just wanted to know if you have any suggestions for. . .whattodoonadate. . ." the last few words were spoken under his breath- gushed out in a stream of barely coherent mutterings.

A date? Sasha was perplexed, for a brief moment. Oh, of course! It was the customer who was dating that fabulous lady in orange.

"Well, astronaut." Sasha cleared her throat, mimicking the authority-filled boss of the Building Management Department.

"You can start off with some roses. . ."

"Ow! You stepped on my foot again."

"Sorry!"

"Where are we going anyways, Sir Starchy? This is a very much long amount of time to keep someone blindfolded. . ."

"Uh. . .Somewhere. It's . . .a special surprise! For you. Because I. . .I. . uh. . ."

". . .You what?"

"Never mind! We're here!"

The door swung open and smashed against the wall with a bang. . .and then proceeded to swing back a smack a certain blue-eyed janitor right in the face. "Argh!" he yelled, falling to the ground. "Ugh. . .Totally. . .meant. . .to do that," he muttered. ". . .Bloody door. . .Argh. . ."

"Are ya' still alive, Sir Starchy?" asked Chell, putting a hand on her hip. "Also, can I take off the blindfold yet? It is getting rather itchy."

"Yeah!" said Wheatley. "Sure! Let me just. . .uh. . .set a few things right, ifyoudon'tmind," he garbled hurriedly, leaping off the floor and dusting himself off.

He dashed into the room like a cheetah on some kind of steroids- balloons were checked for potential popping, cutlery was rearranged several times in the span of seconds, clothes were thrown off and on and a rather miserable bouquet of three roses was picked off of the table.

"And. . .done! You can take off the blindfold now!"

Chell opened her eyes to her Wheatilicious friend, clad in a baby blue bunny suit with a red plastic nose to match, holding out three roses wrapped in some Aperture-issued wrapping paper that was completely covered with childish doodles of cake.

She did the only thing possible for any human being in the world placed in this situation.

She laughed.