Title: There for you, a South Park fanfic
Summary: Wendy, a young Colorado feminist, wants someone who will respect her as both a woman, a friend and a girlfriend. She believes in her heart that one person is Stan, but is it really? What if what she's been looking for was right in front of her face the whole time?
Author's Note: Obviously, Wendy/Bebe makes people happy. Considering it makes me happy as well, and there's a great absense of femmslash in the South Park fandom, I don't see why I can't write this beautiful female couple a nice, chaptered story.

Chapter One: Break Up

At first, being the strong feminist that she is, Wendy Testaburger would walk through the halls and sit through her classes with her head high after Stan would break up with her for the umpteenth time. He'd try and act all hard in front of the guys and let those few, simple words that are the main reason for any teen's broken heart fall out of his mouth as if he didn't care in the slightest; "Sorry, but it's over." Then, ten to fifteen minutes after school ends, she would show up at my front porch and say these exact words:

"Bebe, I need some advice." So I'd let her into my house, we'd go upstairs to my bedroom and I would ask her what this was all about, but I always knew damn well it was about Stan; it always was. The only time she ever came to me for advice was if it were for boy troubles, as if I was this all knowing girl who went out with so many guys in her lifetime. I mean, yeah, they look at me, and for whatever reason, they want me, but does that necessarily mean that I want them?

Wendy would take a deep breath as if to steady her voice and say, "It's about Stan." Ha, as if I don't know you well enough by now, Wendy...

I would sigh in aggravation, "I thought you said you don't need him, Wendy."

"I don't!" Pure denial. Tears would weal up in her eyes regardless of her effort to stop them from falling, and all of a sudden, everything she'd been holding back all day would come pouring out as she would throw herself into my arms and cry on my shoulder.

Eventually, she'd choke out something along the lines of, "Oh, god, I do need him! I do!" The thing is, she didn't him, and even now that she'd once again soaking up my favorite sweater with her tears, the same still applies.

She doesn't need him. Never did, never will. Wendy Testaburger doesn't need a man in her life, and she quite certainly doesn't need someone like Stan Marsh who doesn't appreciate her as she is. If he did, why would he keep breaking up with her? Why keep setting her up to knock her down?

The funny thing? I never told her what I truly felt about him. I'd always give her the same, cliché advice, so everytime this happens, it's as if I'm repeatedly living the same experience over and over again.

My advice?

"Wendy, this always happens and you know it's all going to pull over eventually. He loves you, and no matter what happens, you'll get back together in no time."

What I always wanted to say but never did?

"Fuck him! You deserve so much better!"

I really felt this time would be different, because I actually intended on telling her what I really thought about this 'Stan business.' No more watching my best friend get stomped all over like some High School fucking Freshman.

"Bebe, what am I supposed to do?" Wendy asked me after she'd calmed down a bit, though her voice was congested from all the crying she's been doing for the past twenty minutes of being at my house. Sometimes I wondered if she knew what I was going to say because I've said it so many times, but wanted clarification that he'd eventually come running back to her.

I sighed deeply, but I knew if I didn't want to see her hurt again, I'd have to say something, "Wendy, do you want the truth?" I asked, though I knew she was going to say yes; Wendy liked hearing the truth (as it's better than being told a lie and finding out the truth later) and welcomed it with open arms.

"Yeah..." She replied, whipping her nose and face with her sleeve.

"I think you should forget about him. You know he's obviously not worth your time if he keeps hurting you like this," I told her in complete honesty, looking her straight in the eyes. She looked back at me as if I'd just stabbed her puppy, though like I expected, the strong, all intelligent Wendy Testaburger seemed to understand as she nodded in agreement.

Though intelligent she is, she wouldn't let go of him entirely. "...What about just friends? Do you think that would work?" She asked, and even though my mind screamed "No! He doesn't even deserve that much!", something inside of me wouldn't let me say it. My conscience, maybe? I don't know.

"I don't see how that would hurt." Was what came out instead. She smiled brightly, flashing me those straight, pearly white teeth which brightened up her face tenfold compared to what she looked like ten minutes ago.

"Thanks so much, Bebe! You always know what to do!" Wendy said happily, pulling me into a tight, friendly hug. "Honestly, what would I do without you?" She said against my shoulder, her voice only slightly muffled.

"I think you'd manage." You have Stan as your new BFF, after all...

"Don't be silly," She said with a laugh, and I couldn't help but smile at how similar she sounded to an old, proper lady from the older days.

"Well, I should probably get started on my homework... I'll see you at school, okay?" Wendy gathered her things and headed for my bedroom door, and I followed her to see her off.

"Yeah, okay. Tell me how everything goes, all right?" She nodded a few times and with that, we quickly hugged one last time, and with that, she was out the door.

I shut the door behind her and with a deep, prolonged sigh, I pressed my back against it, sliding myself down so I landed on my butt.

I know what you're thinking; "Wendy isn't with Stan anymore, so now she can finally realize that there are other people in this world besides him." Yeah, sure, but as her best friend in the whole world since age two, I knew that she need him out of her life as a whole, at least for the time being, or she'll be tempted to take him back at any chance she gets.

Oh, God... What is it about Wendy that prevents me from telling her the complete truth? Why is it that I don't want to disappoint her?

It's never been this fucking difficult with Rebecca, that's for sure.

--

An hour and a half passed after Wendy's little visit, and I was sitting quietly and contently at my desk, Googling the answers to my French homework, when I heard knocking at my bedroom door.

"Bebe, sweety, a boy is here to see you!" My mom called from the other side, and by the amused tone in her voice, I could tell that she most likely thought it was a boyfriend or an admirer. I just prayed that it wasn't...

"Uh, okay," I replied uninterestedly, jotting down the last few answers to the workbook page I was working on.

I didn't even bother going downstairs. The reason could've been because I'm a lazy bum, or, maybe to avoid some potential stalkers. Yeah, I have plenty of those, and I'm not exactly in the mood to get raped today. Better safe than sorry.

Instead, I walked over to my window and pushed it open, sticking my head out.

And you'll never guess who my eyes met with. You'll never guess who's red poof ball hat I saw.

Stan fucking Marsh.

Ha ha, cliff hangie.

Okay, so this isn't that good. But, life sort of sucks ass right now and I have no other inspiration. Even though this is true, tell me what you think, and tell me truthfully, because if it sucks, I'll take it down and do a rewrite. As for the chapters, if people like them, I'll make them longer. :)

R&R!