Hello, hello, hello! I promised myself I'd write a Portal fanfic, and I did! There should be another one coming after this one too, because once I pushed past my Portal-related-writer's block, the ideas just kept coming ;) Anyway, I'm absolutely in love with Portal/Portal 2. The characters, the plot, the comedy...it's all absolutely brilliant, and brilliantly written. Wheatley is absolutely my favorite character EVER. He's adorable, bumbling, hilarious, British...AND his optic is my favorite color, so who could ask for more, right?

As for this fanfic, it's my first ever Portal one (it was supposed to be my second, but I wound up writing this one before my original idea =P), and Wheatley is a core, not human. Also, I usually wouldn't consider writing Chell talking, but this one kind of required her to (it's not like they have telepathy or anything, though I'm sure the lab boys at Aperture could've done that a long time ago). Enjoy =)

-CheckItOutGirl=)

A/N: 3rd person. Check out my profile for updates, important info, polls, etc. On a side note, I've becoming so attached to Wheatley that I made one of my own xD I actually made a life-sized model of Wheatley. I'm so proud of him! I'll post pictures on my deviantART account (link will be posted on my profile eventually) whenever I add the finishing touches, his handles.

[EDIT]: I realize I had made many typos in my previous submission. They should now all be fixed, but please let me know if you catch any others.

. . .

Ice Cream

Wheatley had seen Chell smile more than she ever had in her life in the past month since they left Aperture. She'd smiled when she saw the sun for the first time; when she'd bought her own apartment; when she made a meal for the first time without burning it; when she saw bright colored birds fly by on a hot summer day, though Wheatley merely cowered in fear of the things. But there was one thing Wheatley never understood that seemed to cause her the most elation:

Ice cream.

And when he catches her eating it one time, he finally decides to speak up about it.

"What's so special about that stuff that makes you so bloody happy?" he asked one day.

"I don't know," she replied simply, honestly not sure.

Wheatley stared at the small tub she held containing blobs of the brown, cold substance in disgust. "I mean, just look at it! Ugly color, atrociously freezing temperature that just can't feel good when you shove it in your mouth, there...what's so appealing?"

Chell thought for a moment. "It's sweet. It tastes good, like you're eating frozen sunshine." She smiled as her lips wrapped around another spoonful.

"Well, that seems a bit contradicting, doesn't it?" Wheatley muttered to himself, frustrated with not knowing. He hated not knowing things, especially things that he knew would be literally impossible for him to understand. Since he wasn't human.

He'd never even thought about becoming human before he'd met her. He'd always believed that humans were impulsive, smelly creatures that had limited control on their odd, blatantly primeval components, such as emotions and sanity. And they didn't seem to take too kindly to robots. Not to Wheatley, anyway.

But she was different. She understood him, listened to him. She even grew to trust him again, even after everything he did to her. But then again, she was understanding about that too. She was kind, brave, strong, smart...pretty. No, more than pretty, really, much more. She was perfect.

And the closer he grew to her, the more his desire to be human grew.

"What's it like?" he asked quietly, almost to himself, realizing quickly that the intent behind the question was a lot deeper than frozen dairy desserts. Not that Chell knew, of course.

But Chell, unfazed by his uncharacteristic quietness and lost in her cold, chocolate wonderland, answered him thoughtfully. "Hmm..." she hummed as she thought, swallowing another scoop as Wheatley waited intently. "Okay. Close your eye," she commanded, and he quickly obliged. "Think of your happiest memory. Of a time you felt your best, or your happiest, or just completely at ease."

Wheatley sifted through his memory database, remembering times he felt happy. There was the time he was first put into...her body...no, no, that wasn't strong enough. Then there was the automatic euphoria he felt when Chell completed a test...no, too simulated, too short. He kept shuffling through his memories, sadly noticing he had more times when he felt bad than times he felt good. But then there was one memory, completely separate from the others, with a completely different kind of "good" feeling than the other two. It was simple enough, but overpoweringly strong.

It was the first time Chell held him.

Not with the portal gun, but actually, physically held him, hands and all. The warmth and joy he felt when she'd first held him rippled through his core like a wildfire, raising his internal temperature a couple of degrees. It was such a small action, but it had caused such mesmerizing, bloody massive results.

"Do you have a memory yet?"

"Yes," he said dreamily, the word almost like a sigh.

"Let it fill you up, and make you feel the same way you did then. Simply relaxed. That's what it feels like with every spoonful."

Wheatley's shutters were still closed, but his bottom one was raised significantly higher than the other, giving him the appearance of smiling. Chell smiled right along with him when she noticed his reaction.

When he opened his optic again, it darted all around the room nervously. If I could blush, he thought, I'd be a bloody lobster by now!

By now, Chell had turned her attention back toward the book she was reading, still shoving spoonfuls of the creamy treat into her mouth now and then, leaving a comfortable, contemplative silence between them.

A few more moments later, Wheatley spoke up cautiously. "Do..." he tried, but wound up clearing his throat from the bashfulness he was experiencing. But Chell's attention was back on him, at least. "D-Do you want to know what my memory was?"

Chell grinned at him in reply, still not out of some of her old mute habits even though she'd found her voice.

"It...it was you." Her eyebrows raised in mild surprise.

"Well, more specifically, you...holding me. For the first time, that is. I...I like it when you hold me. It feels nice. It's warm, and feels good...and...and it's warm..."

"You said that already," Chell reminded him, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Oh, sorry." Wheatley coughed awkwardly.

Chell put down her book and placed her ice cream on the table, rising from her chair. Wheatley watched with a nervous optic, his shutters slightly showing, as she made her way toward him, a softness in her features that he'd never seen before.

She then promptly scooped him up and pressed him tightly to her chest, hugging him to her as tightly as she could, her face pressed on the top of his shell. Wheatley sighed contentedly against her, relaxing once again, handles lowering, shutters closing. Then all too soon she pulled him away, but he remained thankful for what he got as he slowly opened his optic again.

"Th-thank you," he said, his voice soft as his bottom shutter raised in his unique smile. She stared at him for a long time, the same softness in her face, as Wheatley began to wonder why she hadn't put him down yet.

"Um, aren't you going to put me back down, luv? You know, so you can get back to your boo—"

But he cut his sentence short from shock as Chell brought him closer to her face, and her lips pressed down on his eye frame.

He exhaled shakily, reveling in this new feeling coursing through his circuits. It was like the feeling he got when he held her, except...warmer. Hotter. More electrifying.

When her lips broke contact with his metal, he looked at her with a substantially widened optic, the blue brighter than before, shutters invisible. However, he quickly composed himself, laughing timidly as his bottom shutter drew upwards once more.

"Well, that was, um...significantly better than just simply hugging. Definitely better."