I awoke the next morning - actually, it was well after noon by now, I'd slept in as anticipated - and for a moment or two I'd completely forgotten about the events of the previous day.

Until I rolled over.

Wheatley was still sitting where I'd left him, and when he noticed I was awake he began to chatter away.

"You're up! Finally! I know you said 10-12 hours but then you went and slept longer anyway! Do you realize the day's more than half over?" This didn't surprise me that much. I don't like to give timeframes anyway, I feel like I'm forever blowing past the deadline. Either way, something told me that there wasn't going to be much studying today.

I stumbled into the bathroom again, and began the usual morning (or in this case, afternoon) ritual: toilet, get dressed, apply antiperspirant, brush teeth, run brush through hair, pull hair back in a ponytail, exit bathroom.

I know it can take other girls quite a bit longer, considering they spend more time on their... um... "appearance". I can't be bothered to apply makeup, and if I'm honest, I may not have even bothered to brush my teeth right away if I didn't have plans to go out - I still think it's stupid to brush your teeth before eating, sure it helps with morning breath but you're only going to get more food crumbs stuck in there anyway.

Oh right! Going out. That might be a problem!

I'd planned on leaving the dorm for some food, but I couldn't help but wonder if it was a good idea to leave him there by himself, especially here. Not that there was much in my dorm for him to muck with - unless he rolled around and bumped things - but it still felt kind of mean.

My stomach decided to growl right then, angrily telling me to hurry it up.

I could just lock the door. It wouldn't take long.

"Wheatley?" I called.

"What is it, love?"

"I'm gonna go get some food. I can't take you with me, so need you to wait here and try not to make too much noise."

While he wasn't overly heavy - I'd say around the same as my desktop tower (times three, if I had to guess) - his size made it incredibly awkward to pick him up. I'd actually just rolled him over to the computer last night. I don't think he particularly enjoyed it (he did get quite vocal), but you have to go with your strengths. It made me wonder how heavy a companion cube might be.

He nodded. "Well, alright, hurry back. I know you humans need to eat but, all the same, you know?"

Outside, snow was falling again, albeit lighter than it had been the previous night. I wondered if Wheatley had any record of snow in his database. I had no doubt if I dumped some on him he'd be upset with me (he'd already claimed to have some level of temperature sensitivity, unless he was just going by an internal thermometer and I was over-thinking things) and he certainly wouldn't like being wet either, but I still chuckled to myself at the thought of it, and got an awkward look from someone on the bus.

The kid in me kind of wanted to pop over to Yorkdale to see if they had any Macbook Pro skins in (which is and always has been an excuse to go to the only Arby's around), but the "practical adult" half decided that the usual Chinese place was probably better right at that moment, not to mention closer. Besides, an order of chow mein would make at least two meals the way this guy prepared it. I could order that with fried rice and eat for a couple of days!

Chinese it was.

After about a ten minute wait, I collected my order and got back on the next bus.

My stomach growled again, and rather than attempt to pry open the aluminum trays and have my meal(s) flying everywhere, I went for a fortune cookie. I think you're supposed to save them for last, but it was better than nothing, right?

As I munched on the cookie, I unrolled the fortune.

"The cookie is a lie."

...

Amazing.

...

This one was definitely going on Tumblr.

When I did get back, I'd half expected him to somehow manage to get loose in the air vents, but found him in pretty much the same spot I'd left him in.

"Ooh! What's in the bag?" He chirped. "My sensors are picking up condensation so whatever it is, it's hot. H-O-T! Hot! Wouldn't want to burn yourself on that, nope! I'm also presuming that once it's cooled to a safe temperature, it's going to be absolutely delicious! For you, I mean. I obviously can't taste much of anything - no tongue, no taste buds. I haven't even got a mouth, really. That is food right?"

I cracked open one of the containers - chow mein - and began twirling some around my fork.

"Ooh, might want to blow on that, love!"

I rolled my eyes at first, but he was right. It was one of those bites where you get it in your mouth and have to keep moving the food around to keep your tongue and cheeks from getting fried!

Nonetheless it was delicious! There was a fragrance I could only describe as "nutty", I'm assuming it was the sesame oil. What I really liked about that particular place is that you could get chow-mein with chicken, beef, pork AND shrimp - every piece of it tender and juicy!

"See, what you're doing right there is slurping, love, and I feel you should know - if you don't already - that it's frowned upon in certain social circles. I mean, I'm not having a HUGE problem with it right now, but in case you're out with someone - just saying - they might find it the slightest bit rude."

I shot him a look, which I hope he read as "I don't give a damn if it's rude, this is amazing and I'm going to consume it any way I please!" but he didn't say anything about it after that - I'd gone to open my pop bottle and scared the crap out've him when it fizzed over, his short attention span working it's magic yet again.

"Careful with that! What if it exploded? Can't imagine it'd be pleasant to be showered in liquid - not that it'd do much to you, you could probably just wipe it off couldn't you?" He rambled, but then turned back to glare at me. "But here's the thing, I can't do anything about it! No arms or legs or anything, would you even need legs for that? Anyway, water - or any sort of liquid - gets all over me, I'm done. Gone! Circuits are fried! Dead to the world!"

I shrugged. "I tend to drink next to my computer. Spills sometimes but I've never ruined it."

"You what? What are you some sort of maniac? Do I really need to remind you how dangerous that is? One: you could ruin your computer - which probably isn't the best idea if you plan on ever using that again, Two: you could electrocute yourself - which is really bad for the whole "staying alive" thing...

I shrugged again. "So far no problems."

He carried on a bit about the "dangers of eating and drinking so close to electrical equipment", but eventually settled down and got onto some other topic.

By this time, I'd probably have been right back at my game, but then, here was a chance to strike up a conversation with one of the characters from my new favourite game!

Compared to the other game theorists out there, I was way ahead!

"So..." I began. There were probably hundreds of questions I could've asked, and even though I had his attention, here I was drawing a huge blank. "Have you always been a core?" I blurted.

He blinked a couple of times.

"Uh... Yes. As far as I know, yes."

In retrospect, I suppose that one would've been helpful to any "human Wheatley" writers out there. You know, confirmation that he was pretty sure he'd always been a core, but what did that really say about anything? If there'd been a memory wipe at any point, would he know? Not likely.

Alright, second attempt.

"What'd you think of the lady?"

"What did I think of... Well, I was only with her for a short time, so I'm not quite sure what she was like. Kept to herself, that one. No idea what she thought of me." He was quiet for a moment, gaze lowering to the floor.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"I HEAR WHEATLEY!" Came a girl's voice. I clapped my hands over my mouth and froze. "I know you're not studying in there!"

Oh crap, it was my roommate!

Normally, Gina and I shared a dorm room, but the night before she'd crashed at another friend's place. She had no idea about GLaDOS or the Portal in the wall, or Wheatley.

How in the seven hells was I going to explain this?

"Oi! Who said my name?" Wheatley perked up, frantically searching for the source of the sound. I tried to hush him, but it was already too late.

"How are you doing that voice, you're not even a guy-" My roommate froze when she opened the door, almost immediately her gaze locked onto the sphere. If there was ever any hope at distracting her long enough to hide him somewhere (where would I even hide something that large in a small dorm!?), it was surely gone now.

There was a pause, where no one said anything. No one except for Wheatley, who had apparently taken offence to the gender remark, for reasons I can't fathom.

"Where did you get that?" Gina demanded.

"I- um..."

"Is this one of those fan-made puppets?" She gasped, scrutinizing him. I couldn't really blame her for getting excited, that was how I'd felt when he'd first dropped in.

"Um... y-yeah, let's go with that." I nodded. I don't like lying as a personal rule, but I wasn't sure she'd believe me either.

"Oh my god, this looks almost real!" She sang. "Did you make this? Where did it come from?"

"I... ordered it?"

"Really? You can order these?"

"Yeah." I nodded frantically. "Yeah there's this really good store that does puppets."

"Ahem!" Wheatley interrupted. "Not meaning to be rude here, I can see you're having "girl talk", just thought I'd point out that we haven't been properly introduced. No idea who this person is." He gestured towards Gina. "So, if you could formally introduce us, that would be great!"

Gina and I looked at one another, then back at Wheatley.

"Oh um... ok? Gina, this is-"

"Wheatley!" He cut me off. "I'm Wheatley. Please to make your acquaintance."

"Right, Wheatley." I gestured to Gina. "This is Gina, she's my room-"

"Sorry, don't mean to interrupt again, but what are all those red marks on your face? The lady never had those, is that normal?"

I cringed. Of course he'd comment on acne! Poor Gina looked like she was about to get angry, or start tearing up.

"Wheatley, that's a bit rude!" I hissed.

"No, it's ok." Gina shook her head. "It's close to what he'd say." She sighed heavily. "That's really good ventriloquism though."

"Yeah, I think it was a bit too harsh." I back-pedalled. "I mean, it's mostly fat jokes in the game... and-"

"Game? What game?" Wheatley chirped.

Typical, there was no ignoring him for long.

"Wait a minute." Gina suddenly looked very suspicious. "He just spoke over you. Are these just recordings?"

I shrugged. "I-I guess you could say that?"

Someone would've had to sample a voice in order for him to be able to form words, right? Maybe I could pass him off as a Vocaloid. An English Vocaloid that didn't have much self control.

No, that'd never work.

I sighed in defeat.

"Actually, there's something you should probably know. Don't freak out ok?"

She looked at me expectantly.

"Wheatley is-" I began. "Wheatley's real."

There was a long pause.

"Are you making fun of me?" She demanded.

I shook my head furiously. "No, no of course not!"

"So this isn't-"

"Not a puppet, no."

"And it's not just a talking robot?"

Wheatley did a visible double take at this. "What? Of course I'm a robot. What are you implying?"

"Well... he's a robot." I said slowly, trying to make sense of it as I went. "But he's not a "robot" robot." Air quotes for emphasis. Gina glared at me, and I could tell she was skeptical, but more and more I could see that she really wanted to believe, but she still wasn't sure if I was just playing an elaborate prank - like those people that walk into a port-a-potty and find that the scenery changed when they leave (thanks to quick work by a professional stage crew). It was an unspoken warning that I'd better be telling the truth. Acne jokes are one thing, but no fan likes to be taken for a fool when it comes to possibly meeting their heroes. Real or imaginary. You just don't go there. End of story.

"Is there some way I can convince you?" I asked.

"Sorry, just another quick interruption, but I'm a little confused here so you'll have to work with me." Wheatley laughed nervously, his optic shifting between myself and Gina. "Are we debating my existence? Because I honestly don't see what all the fuss is about there, I'm sitting right here. Physically here on this spot. Tangible! Tangible... You could reach out and touch me if you wanted, just don't hit me or throw things at me is all I ask - and please don't throw liquid on me. Not a good idea at all, nope. Bloody dangerous for me, actually... But just to let you know, I'm sitting here, nice and tangible, completely touchable, if you've got any doubts, you can come over here and touch me. You have my permission."

That the two of us felt incredibly awkward here was an understatement. In any other context we'd be laughing our heads off. He was a robot, so there was that in his defence, but humans tend to think about other things when touching is brought up.

"Unless this is some sort of philosophical debate - or quantum physics, stuff like that. I'm actually a genius, but still need to be kept in the loop." He nodded.

"You know." Gina began. "I think I'd rather believe that came out've his mouth than yours."

I raised an eyebrow. "Do you really think I could make this shit up?"