Her plan was about to be put into motion.

She would soon have her Friend again, and he would be her Friend, and he would love her.

And he would never leave again.

Ice cream, was good.

If Wheatley had to pick one item to have to live on for the rest of his life, he would pick strawberry ice cream.

But he wouldn't do that, Mike said that if he didn't eat everything on his Food Pyramid he would get sick.

And he didn't want to be sick.

So Wheatley's diet consisted mainly of sandwiches, milk, ice cream, and brussel sprouts.

He loved brussel sprouts almost as much as he loved ice cream.

Especially if they're cooked in butter.

One day, after about eight weeks of freedom, The Lady came into the coffee shop to order a coffee.

"How can I help you, mis..." Wheatley dropped his train of thought mid-sentence as she came up to the counter.

"Um, I'd like a french vanilla coffee with extra whipped cream and sugar, please." She said.

"U-uh-O-ok-kay" He stammered, ringing her up absentmindedly.

"Are you okay? You don't look so well..." She said.

"Me? Pff! No! I'm fine, no troubles here with little ol' Wheatley-" Wheatley looked at her with shock at what he had hopefully not revealed.

"What did you say?" She asked, looking suspicious, surprised, and definitely like she had heard him.

"Nothing, nothing, It'll be a minute for your coffee, ma'am, I'll need $3.48." He said, trying his best to keep an 'I'm not really interested though I am perfectly calm' attitude.

"Here..." She said, holding out a five dollar bill.

"Oh, thank you... Here is your change."

A few minutes later, he handed her her coffee.

"Th-there you go... Have a nice day." He told her.

At which point she walked out of the cafe.

That night, when Wheatley took the trash out to the dumpster behind the store, and went upstairs to his miniature apartment thing.

He then sat at his computer, looked up how to stay calm in stressful situations, while eating a bowl of strawberry ice cream.

CREAK

Until he heard the apartment's door open.

"Hello? Mike? Is that you? Dan? Hello?" He called. To which he got no reply.

He really should remember to lock his door.

So he did what the sites said: He took a deep breath, and faced it head first.

Well, he took the deep breath, but he tiptoed into the hallway outside his bedroom so quietly not even a single footstep was heard from him, allowing him to peak past the wall and see who was there.

A silhouette, what appeared to be a female silhouette stood in the entryway just past the entryway door.

So he carefully walked over and flipped on the light switch to see who it was.

As his thoughts came to a rearing halt, the illogical part of his mind was screaming 'FAAAAAAAAAKE!' at him, while the logical part was screaming 'THAT'S THE LADY, YOU STUPID IDIOTIC MORON. RUN FOR IT WHILE YOU STILL CAN!'

If only he hadn't just stood there in terror.

The only things his mind could process for those few moments was what she did.

First, she slapped him harder than Wheatley thought possible.

Then, she did a mixture between a hug and a passionate kiss because she couldn't decide which to actually do.

As soon as the shock wore off of Wheatley and his brain caught all of his thoughts and put them back in their cage, he yelled "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT FOR?! ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME?!"

Before she could say a word, he had pushed her out and bolted the door lock.

"bloody bacteria" He mumbled.

Chell sat on the floor, leaning against the door of Wheatley's apartment.

Why exactly did he yell at her like that?

She waited about an hour before she got too tired and went home.