[A/N: You may first want to read "Games" and "New Games," which are both floating around in my stories somewhere.]

Chell dumped the box of macaroni into the already-boiling water. Wheatley had wanted to pop the bubbles with his fingers, but she had given him a firm "NO," and he had skulked off to the side in disappointment. She had made him promise not to touch the water, and he had complied grudgingly, but she still wasn't sure he wasn't going to try it later, so she was keeping a close eye on him.

"Isn't there anything I can do to help?" he asked, giving her a pleading stare as she placed the cover on the macaroni pot and set the timer for twenty minutes.

She shook her head as she stepped away from the stove and sat next to him on the couch. "Not yet. We have to wait until the noodles cook, so we can dump them out and mix in the rest of the stuff. But you can help with that." She gave him a smile, and he returned it, although he still looked a bit disappointed.

"Well, what are we going to do until then?" Wheatley asked. His look of disappointment changed to a hopeful one. "Can we finish the game? Because I really did like it."

Chell couldn't help but be amused, although after GLaDOS had interrupted them, she didn't think she really wanted to finish the 'game.' "Not now. Maybe later, okay? Why don't we watch TV or something?" She turned to grab the remote, but Wheatley caught her gently by the shoulder and turned her back to face him.

"Come on, Chell," he wheedled. "How did it go again? Sort of like this, right?" He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, resting his hands on her shoulders, and for a moment she felt herself kissing him back, but then she pulled away.

"I said not right now, Wheatley," she said. "We're making dinner."

"But we have twenty whole minutes," he protested. "Can't we play just a little?"

She glanced at the timer before returning her attention to him. "We actually only have eighteen minutes."

"But Chell," he protested again. "That's still a long time!" He was giving her that tragic puppy-dog-eyed face he always gave her when he wanted her to do something, and she sighed.

"Okay, fine. Fine. But just for a little."

He grinned as he leaned towards her again, and this time she leaned back towards him, holding his face in her hands as they kissed. Wheatley didn't seem like he knew what to do with his hands, but after a moment, they settled on her shoulders, and the two continued to kiss.

But then his hands were at the bottom of her shirt, tugging at it, and she pulled away, opening her eyes to give him a look. "What are you doing?"

"This is how we play," he responded, puzzled. "Isn't it? Because this was what you did last time, wasn't it?"

She sighed. "Well, yeah, it was, but there are different ways to play this game, and we're not playing that way right now." Her eyes slid to the closed bedroom door, hoping GLaDOS wasn't somehow listening to their conversation via cube. Chell loved that cube far too much to get rid of it, and she would just have to be careful what she did in front of it from now on.

Wheatley looked disappointed again. "But I liked the way we played last time. How's that saying go again? Oh! If it isn't broken, you shouldn't break it."

Chell blinked. "If it isn't...yeah. Okay, that's the saying." She glanced at the timer, which was now at sixteen minutes, and shook her head. "We don't have time to play it that way right now. After dinner, okay?"

He had a stubborn expression now, which was a face she seldom saw him wear. "No. I want to play it this way now." She opened her mouth to protest again, but he continued. "Come on, Chell! We can start now and finish after dinner. Please?"

She had to bite back all the reasons why that wouldn't work, instead just nodding her head. She'd just have to make sure the game only went so far. After all, all he wanted to do was take shirts off again, and that wasn't really that big of a deal, seeing as they'd already done it once before. "All right. Fine."

He grinned as he reached for her shirt again, and she let him pull it off over her head and toss it off to the side before she did the same to his. And this time he was the one that placed his hands on her cheeks and pulled her closer to him as they kissed. She scooted forward a little, wrapping her arms around him and pressing against him as his hands moved to mimic hers.

But then all of a sudden he pulled back, giving her a look of concern.

"What's wrong?" she asked, opening her eyes.

He bit his lip, then gestured at her bra. "Is that supposed to be there? Because I don't have one, and it doesn't exactly, well, feel like the rest does, and-"

"Yes," Chell interrupted, suppressing a giggle. "It's supposed to be there. It's clothing. Like shirts, but it's just for girls."

Wheatley frowned, studying the flimsy garment. "But we took our shirts off, so shouldn't that come off as well?"

She shook her head. "No. Maybe after dinner."

He gave her a skeptical look, but seemed to accept it, because he pulled her closer again, snuggling her up against him before leaning down to continue kissing her.

They stayed like that for a while, until the timer went off and Chell broke away. She didn't bother putting on her shirt before standing and entering the kitchen, since the window shades were closed and it was just going to come off again after dinner anyway. She turned off the burner, then pulled on oven mitts and dumped the noodles into the colander that rested in the sink.

"Are we going to put in everything else now?" Wheatley asked hopefully. He had stood up from the couch and followed her into the kitchen.

She nodded. "Yeah. We're going to put it in, and then you can stir it."

The grin on his face widened, and she had to smile.

Together they somehow managed to make the macaroni and cheese without incident, and then Chell scooped it into bowls as Wheatley set a spoon and a napkin down at each of their seats. He sat down, and she carried the bowls over to their small kitchen table, handed one to him and then sat down across from him, like usual.

But unlike the usual, their dinner table tonight was quiet. Wheatley wasn't saying anything for some reason, but every time Chell looked up, she saw him avert his eyes right away, like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't.

"What?" she asked finally, setting her spoon down next to her empty bowl and locking her eyes on him. "What's wrong?"

He jerked his head up. "Nothing! Why would you think anything's wrong? Because nothing's wrong..."

But he didn't sound sure at all, and Chell raised her eyebrows. "Nothing, huh?"

"Nothing," he reiterated, shaking his head. She kept staring at him, and after a moment he sighed. "It's just that..."

"Go on," she urged when he didn't elaborate.

"...It's just that I keep wanting to look at that," he said, rushing his words as he gestured at her chest. On instinct, she crossed her arms over it. "And I don't know why, but I feel like I shouldn't, and I'm really sorry because I don't mean to, so that's why I keep looking away." His face was flushed red now, and Chell wasn't sure whether to be amused or mortified. Choosing instead to remain impassive, she pushed her chair back and stood up.

"Come on," she said, and he looked nervous, like he was afraid she might hit him, but he got up and followed her back into the living room anyway. She sat down on the couch, and he sat down next to her after she patted the seat beside her.

"W-what are we doing?" he asked. "B-because if we're finishing the game, then I don't mind that, but—what are you doing? I thought you said that was supposed to stay on—"

"I said it could come off after dinner," Chell corrected as she unhooked her bra. "Don't worry, okay?"

"But—but, but…okay," he said with a sigh, watching with fascination as she slid her bra off of her chest and tossed it to the floor. Her eyes studied his face as he studied her chest, and a faint blush colored her cheeks as he came to a conclusion. "What do you want to wear that thing for? There's no need to cover that up, really. I mean, just because your chest is a bit, well, bigger than most, doesn't mean that—"

Starting to laugh, she cut him off with a kiss, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and leaning forward so that he fell backwards on the couch with her on top of him. This time his arms wrapped around her back naturally, pressing her against him, and after a moment he felt her hands run down his chest and pause at the top of his pants.

"Are those supposed to come off?" he asked. She had rolled onto her side and he had copied her so that they were facing each other, and she had both unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, but now she was trying to pull them off with little success.

"Yeah, they are," she told him before letting go and standing up. "This isn't going to work like this."

"Well, of course not, luv," Wheatley said, standing up himself. "You're not meant to take pants off like that. They go off like this." He slid his pants off so that all he was wearing were his briefs, and Chell glanced down briefly before returning her attention to his face.

"You're right," she agreed before sliding her own pants off as well as her panties. "Like that."

He grinned. "See? Shouldn't listen to what She says about me being a moron. Because I'm not. Not in the slightest, actually." Then he seemed to notice that she had taken off her underwear, and with a surprised "oh," he did the same.

And then she had her arms around her shoulders again, kissing him, and he wrapped his arms around her again as she pressed him back against the living room's wall. She could feel something hard pressing against the bottom of her stomach as they kissed, and she knew what it was, but apparently he didn't, because after a moment he let go and gave her a gentle push back, looking down at it in puzzlement.

"It's supposed to do that," Chell offered, trying not to laugh, but he didn't look convinced.

"What for?" he asked. "Seems awfully inconvenient, doesn't it? I mean, it's sort of pressing into you, and it seems like that might be painful?" He looked worried. "I don't want to hurt you by accident."

She shook her head and gave a slight roll of her eyes. "No. It's there for a reason…here. Let me show you." She approached him again, wrapping her arms around his shoulders once more and interlocking her fingers behind his neck, pushing down to make him just a little bit shorter. And then she stepped forward and lowered herself, and the expression on Wheatley's face alone was enough to make her blush.

Chell repeated the process, and after she'd done it a few times, he managed to stammer out, "I th-think I understand what it's f-for now."

And he did seem to understand, because at one point when she was up he spun her around so that she was the one against the wall, and he gave her a look like he was wondering if it was all right, so she nodded, and then he began moving in and out as she started to kiss him again, wondering if perhaps this wouldn't have been more comfortable on the couch.

But it didn't matter, as he continued to slide in and out and she gasped with pleasure, making him pause for a moment to ask if she was all right. Shaking her head, she told him she was fine, and then he started up again, his own sharp inhalations of breath mixing with hers until at last he let out a long moan and she felt him spasm inside her. She gasped as it sent her over the edge, and she felt her walls tighten around him.

It was only after they were both panting and covered in thin sheens of sweat that he withdrew and they retreated to the couch. She curled up against him, resting her head on his chest and closing her eyes, and he settled for resting one arm around her and stroking her hair with his other hand. Both her hands rested against his chest.

"Chell?"

"Mmhm?"

"This is my favorite game."