A/N: My God, is this going to be a… a chaptered fic? I think so, you know. I think so. I shall try my best to keep it updated if you all like it, but knowing me it'll last a few weeks. I'll have to write quickly!
Warnings: Slash (boyxboy)

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Kyle never even wanted to go to France. He wasn't that big on European culture, or foreign foods, or hot weather, or trying to translate what people are saying with only two years of French lessons. In which he basically learnt "Bonjour!" and "Je m'appelle Kyle."

Unfortunately for him, it had been years since his family last went on vacation. His Mom thought it'd be nice to take them somewhere where they could be both educated and relaxed, but he was pretty sure he'd be doing neither there. The French air made him nauseous. Even worse, they were staying for three weeks. That was half of his summer vacation he'd be spending there, with his family.

For the most of it he sat in the hotel room. It had air conditioning that he put on full blast all through the day and night, even though it was stupidly loud, but he wasn't used to the warm weather. He studied mainly; he was hoping to be a doctor once he'd finished university.

"Kyle, Mom wants us to go shopping with her today." Kyle was sat on his current bed in his pyjamas. His laptop was on the bed in front of him, with a few conversations opened on MSN. It didn't sound like he had much of a choice whether or not to go.

"I bet Dad's not going." He said pettily, signing out and shutting down his computer.

"No, he's going to look around for a restaurant for us tonight. Fucking bastard."

"Mind your language," Kyle said automatically, knowing full well he'd used words like that way before Ike's age. Ike pouted, sharing his brother's thoughts.

Kyle changed in the bathroom quickly. He tried to dress with as little clothing as possible. Sadly for him, all he had packed was jeans and t-shirts, and he refused to wear his Dad's thin shorts and Hawaiian shirts that he thought were so appropriate. He put his phone in his pocket and shut the door behind him.

"Come on bubbe, we need to get something for your Aunt and cousins. They don't get to travel much, probably because your Uncle was a bit of a-" and she was off, setting the tone for the rest of the day.

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"Hey Ike, I dare you to knock that woman's drink over."

"Which woman? The one who looks like she's just killed someone? Or the blonde one?"

"First one."

"… Fine."

Kyle sat back in his white metal chair, watching Ike complete his dare. They were outside a café, and their mother was inside, getting them lunch. The day had been long, and it was only 2:00pm. They still had lot's more shopping to do after this, she assured them. Ike bumped into the table and did a pretty good job of acting as though it was an accident, waving his arms and mumbling "désole!" The woman glared at him, and continued glaring at him until he sat back down besides Kyle, smiling smugly.

"Alright then, now I get to pick a dare for you. I dare you to… ask that man for a cigarette," he pointed to a tall, brunette man, who stood at the corner of the café with a cigarette in his hand. He too, looked as though he'd just killed someone.

"Dude, I can't do that. If Mom comes out and sees me talking to him, or with a cigarette, she'll kill me."

"Don't be such a pussy, Kyle."

"I don't even know how to ask for a cigarette in French!"

"Est-ce que je peux avoir une cigarette. Really, did you not read a single page of the French dictionary Mom gave us ?"

Kyle sighed, forgetting that his brother was a cheeky fucking genius. It was either risk getting killed by this stranger, or have to listen to Ike call him a pussy for the next two and a half weeks. Who wouldn't go for the first option? He stood up and walked over to the man, who was completely ignoring him and doing something on his phone. This was so nerve wracking. The boy really did not look like the friendly type, and he doubted he could get away with yelling "It was a dare!" before he stubbed out his cigarette in his eye.

"Uh…" he said, as he approached. The man turned to him, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"I, uh…" Oh balls, what was it again? I can't even remember the phrase. I think it was… "Uh… est-ce… uh… est-ce…?" The brunette raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"Oui?"

"Est-ce… uh… que…?"

"Etes-vous une certaine sorte d'idiot ? »

Kyle gulped and shrugged his shoulders, trying to think of some French, any French, to get himself away from this without looking a fool. The French man laughed.

"Vous ne savez pas?"

"Uh…" His amusement continued; he even put away his phone.

"Où habitez-vous?" He knew this one! It was one of the first phrases in his book. At least, he hoped he knew it… habitez was like… home… because it was like habitat, which is where someone lives? He didn't know the French word for America, so he decided to test his luck.

"A-America?" The French man stubbed out his cigarette on the wall. Kyle turned to look at Ike, who was stifling his laughter, obviously thinking that the conversation was going badly.

"Oh? I thought I recognized ze accent. I lived in America for a short time." Kyle actually gasped as he started speaking English. There weren't many English speaking people in this area of town, he thought his Mom had done that purposely to encourage him to learn the language.

"O-oh… right…" Now he felt even more foolish. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried not to look nervous.

"What eez eet zat you were wanting?"

"Oh! Yeah. I uh… well… never mind. My brother dared me to ask you for a cigarette, but I think he thinks I've already done it. Sorry for bothering you…" The French man dug into his pocket, taking out a packet of cigarettes and lighting one in his mouth, passing it to Kyle. He took it wearily; he didn't even smoke, and his mother could come out at any second. He turned to face Ike, who blinked at him in disbelief.

"T-Thank you!" Kyle held the cigarette nervously between his fingers, aware that the man was waiting for him to take a drag. So he did. Luckily, this wasn't his first time, and he didn't cough and splutter. He didn't need to make himself look even more stupid.

"What part of America are you from?" He asked, lighting his own cigarette.

"It's uh, a small town in Colorado. Called South Park." He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Zat eez where my muzzer lives. I used to live zere, also."

"Seriously?"

Ike ran over to the pair, grabbing Kyle's sleeve.

"Mom's coming back!" Kyle panicked and dropped the cigarette, stamping it out and shooting an apologetic look at the man.

"I'm sorry! My Mom… uh… she doesn't like me smoking. I have to go now, thank you for the cigarette and uh… yeah. Thanks!" The French man nodded, breathing smoke in his direction.

"Au revoir."

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For the rest of the shopping day, Kyle was left thinking about the man who gave him the cigarette. He used to live in South Park? He did kind of look familiar, in a way. Maybe he lived there when he was young? It was possible he'd lived there before he was born- he did look a bit older – or there was even the possibility that they'd just never met. Though, everyone knew everyone in South Park…

"Did you get anything nice, boys?" His Dad asked at the restaurant table. Kyle and Ike looked at him sourly as he started their mother on a exact recollection of the days events, without leaving a single detail.

"I still can't believe you actually got a cigarette off him. You were talking for ages, I thought you didn't know French?" Ike whispered across the table.

"He spoke English. He said he used to live in South Park."

"No way, dude!"

"I know. I was really confused. Did you recognise him?" Ike paused, staring directly in front of him in concentration.

"… He kind of… didn't he look like that kid? You said he died during the war, but your friend bought him back, then he left? He used to live like… a few streets away, didn't he?" Kyle bit down on his lip, deep in thought, then gasped.

"You're right! How the fuck did you remember-"

"Kyle! Watch your language!"

"S-Sorry Mom…"

Ze Mole. That's what he had called himself. Kyle couldn't remember his real name, but that was enough to put his mind at rest. Although, now he wished that he had apologised for the trouble they'd gotten him into all those years ago. Maybe thank him for helping, too. It's a shame neither of them had recognised them sooner, and with Kyle's luck, he wasn't exactly going to just bump into him again…

He got the feeling that the next two and a half weeks would be spent in that café, just in case.

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A/N: Review's, as always, would be very much appreciated! Although I don't reply to them (I actually only just found out how…) I really, really appreciate all of them. Thank you for reading!
Translations: (All the French was from an online translator, so I apologise for any mistakes)
Etes-vous une certaine sorte d'idiot ? – Are you some kind of idiot?
Vous ne savez pas? – You don't know?
Où habitez-vous? – Where do you live ?