Portal: Love as a Construct

Part Seventy-Eight. The Fling

Part Seventy-Eight. The Fling

Some days Wheatley just wanted to be a bit silly for her.

He loved making her laugh. He'd noticed something over the years that he wasn't sure she had: her laugh had changed over time. Her voice hadn't changed in the least, still as heavily processed as it had ever been, but her laugh had lost some of that. It had become more organic, somehow. He sort of wanted to ask her about it, but if she hadn't noticed and he mentioned it, he was afraid she would, in her opinion, 'fix' it. He didn't want her voice to be any less electronic. He liked that the way it was. But laughing was something that wasn't meant to be controlled. It was supposed to be a free sort of action, and he liked the idea that it was hand in hand with her state of mind. Maybe it'd happened because she felt more free. He hoped so, and he actually thought so as well. She was more agreeable than she used to be, though she hadn't lost her caustic edge. And he hoped she never did. Though this proved what he'd discussed with her a while back, about her neuroticism scaling back as she aged. He was just happy she would have enough time to enjoy it. He'd been worried it wouldn't happen until she was on her deathbed, or something.

Wheatley had been looking in GLaDOS's music files with Caroline the other day, and every time he'd told Caroline that he liked a particular song she laughed. After a few times that got a bit... hurtful, really, and he'd asked her what was so funny.

"You like all the old songs, Dad," she'd answered, laughing again. "The really, really old ones."

"So?" Wheatley had asked, confused as to why that was funny.

She'd shrugged and looked back at the monitor. "You know what I think?"

"What."

"I think you're a romantic."

"A what?"

She'd turned to him, tilting her core thoughtfully. "Well, you know... you're always giving Momma flowers, and saying corny things to her..."

"She likes it when I do that."

"I know. But people don't always do that. Gordon doesn't for Chell. He won't even stand near her in public. But you don't care who's in the room. You want everyone to know she's yours, and you'll do whatever it takes to keep her."

"I will," Wheatley had said, a little more fiercely than he'd meant, but Caroline had only smiled.

"I'm... I like that. I'm glad you're not like Gordon at all. That'd be... maybe that's Richard's problem," she'd interrupted herself thoughtfully. "I mean, Momma doesn't always like to show what she's feeling, but... I know that she will, for you."

"You can see the compromise," Wheatley had suggested. "But maybe Chell and Gordon only compromise in private, or something."

Caroline had looked at the monitor, but her optic didn't seem to be focused. "I think if you guys were human, you'd just look so sweet together. You'd always be trying to hold her hand, and opening doors for her, and... you do stuff like that right now, is all I mean."

He'd shrugged. "I do what I can to make her feel special."

"Does she do that for you?"

"Well, not in the uh, in the same way. Or as often. But she comes up with things. And I just, I'm so surprised when she does it, and, and it's just, it's better than if, if she did it all the time."

"I hope my daughter will be able to tell I love my partner, like I can with you guys. Even though Momma's... Momma, I can still tell."

He'd looked at her thoughtfully. "Just remember that she'll be watching."