And welcome to Perfect.

Let me know what you think. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up in about a week. This story will probably be 6 or 7 chapters in total. Obviously I do not own South Park, and while Style is not the main theme of this story, it's definitively there, so don't bother reading if you're just going to rant at me about it.

For those of you who don't give a shit -

Enjoy

Miric

And that's where he found her, staring across Stark's Pond, red tear tracks still burning trails down her face.

___ ___

Kenny watched Stan flutter around the small apartment, smiling wryly. The little spaz was so damn nervous he had worked himself into a whirling version of his mother; cleaning, cooking, moving the centerpiece on the table too and fro. If it wasn't so sad, it would be absolutely hilarious. He leaned back, the corner of the doorway he stood in uncomfortable between his thin shoulders. He shifted slightly, relieving the irritation before looking up. He couldn't hold back a small laugh when he realized that in the short moment he had looked away the little black haired tornado had managed to get past him. He could hear objects shuffling on the bathroom counter, mixed with muttered obscenities. He rolled his eyes, walking down the tiny hallway and poking his head into the room.

"Stan"

"What?" The dark haired boy snapped, blue eyes flashing in aggravation, before quickly melting to a more reasonable level of frustration. "Sorry Ken, what do you need?"

"All kinds of things obviously, but the first thing on the agenda is to get you calmed down. Come watch TV with me or something." He raised an eyebrow at the panic that flittered through his friends gaze.

"I can't. The apartment is still a mess, and dinner isn't ready yet, and I need to get to the store and pick up the beer and -" Kenny grabbed the washcloth from the other boys hand dangling it teasingly in front of his face.

"Stan. I know this may be hard for your gay little mind to comprehend, but it isn't a big deal. I know your girlfriend is finally coming home, but I really doubt that being able to see his face in the bathroom floor is going to be his first concern." He was rewarded for his insight with a punch to the shoulder.

"Shut the hell up. It's been forever since I saw Kyle. I just don't want to have to worry about cleaning when he's here."

"Right, because you aren't acting like a girl whose boyfriends coming home from war."

"University is pretty damn close to war," Stan muttered, once again polishing the wooden counter top. "Wait...Hey!" Kenny laughed, already turning the corner into the kitchen and grabbing his coat. "I'll grab the beer Stan, and when I get back, we're sitting down and watching TV." Stan's answer was incomprehensible.

The sun shone down brightly on his face and he smiled, closing his eyes. Sometimes the tiny little town was a nice place to live, and on a quiet Sunday afternoon in late October, with the weather just starting to get crisp this was one of those times. He shuffled through the thin layer of snow on the sidewalk, leaving two long lines marking his way. Nothing ever changed around here; well, not for the most part anyways. Obviously he wasn't living at home anymore, and his boots were of a good enough quality that he couldn't feel the water soaking through to his socks, but the sleepy little town was still exactly the same. Same people, same places, same seasons, same weird shit.

He had always found it ironic that 'the same' in South Park was completely INsane anywhere else. And nothing would have changed with the people either. Kyle would come home, to his Super Best Friend and once again Kenny would be the outlier. Not that he minded all that much; he was still close with the two other boys, but he wouldn't be the first one called on a boring friday night anymore. He wouldn't be the one they would talk to, or hang with, or even rip on. It was rather depressing.

So instead of dwelling on it he sped up, jogging towards the liquor store. Walking into the warm interior he waved at Butter's at the counter before grabbing two cases of beer from one of the small fridges. He walked up, grinning at the blonde man before him who grinned happily back.

"Hey Kenny, how's it going?" He dropped the beer on the counter, wincing as his finger clipped the edge of a bottle cap awkwardly. He stuck the punctured finger into his mouth, muttering around it.

"Oh, just fine. Keeping Stan from combusting. I swear that kid is going to work himself into an early grave before Kyle even gets there."

"Kyle's back in town? That's good! Do you need a band-aid?" Kenny reached into his back pocked with his left hand, pulling out his worn brown wallet. "Nah dude, I'm fine. Thanks for asking though."

"That'll be 28.94." Handing over the change, Kenny threw Butters a smile, grabbed his bags and headed back out into the snow.

The apartment was silent when Kenny got back. He frowned - where was the spaz?

"Yeah Stan, we're engaged." Dropping the bag on the counter he walked into the tense silence of the living room. Kyle stood in the middle of the small room, staring at his oldest friend. Stan on the other hand didn't seem to be looking at anything. Shock covered his face, holding him paralyzed. It was a long moment before Kenny noticed a flicker of emotion flash across his eyes. Rolling his in recognition, he took a step forward. The two men didn't even notice. The young women standing slightly behind Kyle did though, and she turned to look at him, her eyes forcibly calm. He threw her a half smile, before grabbing her arm gently and pulling her away from the stifling room. He grabbed the case of beer, and led her down the hallway to the bedroom. He felt her tense as she noticed where they were but relaxed when he led her onto the small balcony coming off of the room.

He settled on to the ground, looking out onto the quiet street, watching out of the corner of his eye as she did the same. Wordlessly he handed her an open beer, and after a moments hesitation she took it. Taking a deep swallow, she made a face, before settling down again. He chuckled slightly.

"Sorry, if I knew we were having more delicate guests I would have grabbed something a little higher quality." She shrugged.

"It's fine. I just don't drink too often." Her voice was soft, and sweet. Absently she pulled her long brown hair over her shoulder, braiding small strands. She jumped when the first shout came from the living room. Moving to stand, panic flashed through her eyes when Kenny grabbed her wrist again.

"Relax, sit. They're fine, Stan's just venting, and Kyle's being Kyle. That sexy redhead temper of his. Give them ten minutes and they will come find us and life will go on like normal. They'll just pretend it never happened." She nodded slowly, returning to her position. She picked up her beer, examining for a moment, before throwing the majority of it back. Putting it down she made the same face as before, leaned back and closed her eyes.

He just laughed again, taking a swig of his own. With the freedom given by her closed eyes, he looked at her more closely. She was tall and thin, with dark hair and dark eyes, if he remembered correctly. Plain clothes, all fairly well kept and well fitting, rustled as she shifted, lifting her beer to her lips again. Simple and classic, as Kyle had once described his type. She definitely fit the bill.

The only thing slightly out of context was the glinting band around her ring finger. The small diamonds caught the light, sparkling happily. It looked like something Kyle would buy. It wasn't ostentatious but it subtly screamed of money. He was always so conscious to not show off that it often worked the other way, making everything seem like it was 'nothing' no matter the cost. He had never understood how hard it was to not notice, when money was something you didn't have much of. She was definitely Kyle's.

"I'm Kenny, by the way." She grinned, not opening her eyes. The sun played over her long hair. It was so dark it was almost black. The way it seemed to pull the sun in, absorbing it, instead of reflecting it, was...it was-

"Kristen." He sighed, inaudibly, throwing the thought away. Plucking the empty bottle from her fingers, he handed her another one. Being a new comer to South Park, and being introduced as Kyle's fiance...well, she would need all the extra help coping that she could get. She grinned at him, her green eyes flashing brightly in amusement.

"I have heard of you Kenny McCormick. Are you trying to get me drunk?" she asked quietly, jokingly.

"No, not yet. Your fiance is still here." She laughed, leaning back again. He watched as her eyes flitted towards the door, and sounds of loud voices.

They sat in companionable silence for a long time, staring out onto the sleepy little town. Finally the shouts began to fade into raised voices, and finally were silenced completely by the thin walls. Kristen looked towards the door, taking another sip of her beer.

"Are they done?" She asked, looking back towards the blonde boy. "Cause my butt is going numb." He laughed, winking.

"I could help with that." She just raised an eyebrow and nudged him with her foot.

"You touch my ass, and I'll kick yours from here to Africa." Shaking his head, he leaned back, staring woefully at the sky.

"I was just offering to help you in your time of need. But either way, yeah, they are probably done. Now we just wait until Kyle realizes that we're both gone and-"

"KENNY! I swear to Moses if you are molesting my fiance I will break your scrawny little neck!" Grinning he stood, offering her a hand as he did so. She took it, letting him pull her up and to her surprise right into his arms. He leaned it, his nose brushing up against hers.

"You can tell your new around here - no one else would have been silly enough to let me do that." The bedroom door flew open, as a bright light flashed threw Kenny's vision. He fell to the floor, curling into the fetal position pain rocketing from his groin threw every nerve in his body.

"What the fuck woman!" Looking up, he met her irritated eyes.

"The only reason your nuts aren't currently residing in your brain is because you gave me a beer." He struggled to his feet, fighting the urge to grin in amusement.

"Cunt."

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

"Bastard."

"Whore." She shrugged, her eyes flashing in what he was sure was suppressed amusement.

"Wow Kenny, you were just shot down by a whore. That must sting!" He blinked in surprise at her responce, turning away from the argument. His eyes met with Stan's, who was currently leaning against the doorframe behind his glowering redheaded friend. Both of them turned to Kyle.

"You can keep this one." Kyle sighed, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands, his anger melting away at the blatant idiocy in the room.

"You are both dumb asses," he muttered before crossing the room. "Sorry about them." Kristen slid into his arm comfortable, leaning back against his chest.

"Oh, not a problem. I'm a little bit tipsy, and I took that female self defense class last semester. He seems like a good practice dummy." He kissed her temple gently.

"You are welcome to use Ken as a practice dummy as much as you please." Ignoring the protest from the boy in question he looked up, looking his two friends in the eye. Kenny closed his mouth, looking at the couple carefully. They were comfortable. That was the only way to describe them. She leaned back lightly, his arms wrapped around her waist like it was the most natural state in the world. The subtle tension that he hadn't even noticed before faded from her face and body, and his curled around hers just slightly, protectively. Their hands slipped automatically into the others, and his chin rested gently on her shoulder.

"Guys," Kyle interrupted his thoughts quietly. "Let's try this again. This is my fiance, Kristen. Kristen this is Kenny, and Stan." She smiled, pulling out of his arms, and extending on of hers. His hand remained on her hip, tethering her.

"It's nice to meet you." She smiled, shaking first Stan's hand, then Kenny's after a moments exaggerated hesitation.

"It's nice to meet you too," Stan replied, finally speaking. "Sorry about before."

"Oh, it's fine. You should have seen my cousin's when we told them. I thought they were going to construct a torture chamber, simply to interrogate Kyle." She stepped back, her smile a little bit forced, into the redheads arms again. Silence filled the room awkwardly. Kenny rolled his eyes.

"Oh come on guys. We've been friends since forever, and the chick seems cool. Fuck the awkward stage, let's go grab some dinner, and come back here and get hammered." Kristen giggled, and Kyle looked down at her in surprise. She looked up at him and smiled.

"He's right. Just because I'm here this doesn't have to be some big awkward thing. Plus, I'm starving and you haven't eaten since this morning. I don't need your fainting on me again. I had a hard enough time getting you back to the dorms last time." He raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't do anything, you got the bouncers to do it."

"Well yes, but I had to convince them! That took a whole hell of a lot of persuasion." Glancing over at Kenny, who's mouth was already open she continued. "No Kenny. Just No." His mouth snapped shut in surprise. Stan laughed.

"And that two for Kristen, Kenny zero." Kenny looked around the room, a pout set on his lips. All around him were pitiless grins.

"Screw you guys. I'm going for dinner," he growled, before stalking haughtily out the door. The bedroom was quiet again for a long moment, before Kenny heard laughter explode from the other two boys. He grinned, shoving his feet into his shoes as Kristen asked again, what was so funny.

___ ___

Kenny re-appeared with a sight. He hadn't even finished eating before his chair had collapsed, dropping him onto a very badly positioned fork. It wasn't often that he died anymore, but when he did it was always in some inane, embarrassing way. Satan seemed to see it as a game, killing him off in new and irritating ways.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" The cold, confident voice snapped from behind him. He turned, shrugging.

"Sorry Cartman. You know I don't get to decide where I come back at. This wouldn't have been my first choice either." The taller man rolled his eyes, stalking around Kenny to his desk.

"You never used to appear outside of South Park, but as soon as I move all of a sudden you start showing up in my condo, my gym, my office building, my restaurants. Fucking gay stalker or some such shit..." He continued to mutter as he slammed desk drawers open, tossing papers around. "Where the fuck is that new contract?"

Kenny leaned up against the desk, watching the brunette from beneath half closed eyes. "Bottom drawer, under the Shimbren file." He was met with a glare.

"If you weren't so god damn good at your job Kenny..."

"Yeah well, I am. If you weren't such an asshole you wouldn't need someone to do all your talking for you." Eric Cartman turned away, reaching into the bottom drawer and grumbling until he pulled out the needed file.

"I'm perfectly good at talking to people, and I can be perfectly pleasant, if I want to be. I just don't have the time, or the patience to deal with those arrogant gaywads who claim to be investors. And why should I, when I can just send you?" Kenny grinned.

"Send me where ever you please, oh mighty writer of the paycheck."

"Fuck you, I don't write a god damn thing. I outsource payroll." He snickered.

"Sometimes I don't know what the hell you actually do Cartman. It just seems like all you ever do is outsource shit to other people, or companies." The brunette looked at him in amusement, flipping through the file.

"You know perfectly well what I do."

"Yeah, nothing that couldn't be done by the investors themselves, or the companies involved for that matter."

"Yes well, I capitalize on human laziness."

"And that isn't your slogan because...?" Eric didn't even look up at him, and answered simply.

"Because you never want to make your customers think that they should be able to be more than they are. If you do, they'll actually strive to be something useful and you won't get paid." Sticking out his tongue immaturely Kenny spun, tossing his feet up on the desk, stretching out across the dark wood. He winced at Eric smacked him across the back of the head, shoving his feet onto the ground again with a thump.

"Fine, be that way. Is there anywhere I need to be in the next while, since I'm hear anyways?" Cartman was already shaking his head.

"No. You're free and clear for another month, short of any emergencies. Beginning of May I need you to head to Ireland for a couple of weeks. There is a dig going on there, and we want to get our hands into whatever comes up. I already have a few investors interested in what they find out. I'll send you the information in a week or so, so you can get familiar with the people and the location. You've already worked with Carlisle. He's the main guy on this dig." Kenny nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Sounds good. I liked him last time; I'm glad he's moving up in the world. He paid for dinner last time we went out."

"Of course, that is why you would like him. You may have a nice apartment and clothes without holes, but you can't take the ghetto out of the boy." Glaring, Kenny tossed a pen at the man's head. A large hand caught it lightly, placing it back into the container on the desk. Raising an eyebrow, Eric moved to another cubourd, shuffling through yet more files. The rustle of papers was the only noise for a long time.

"Hows the art exhibit in New York going?" Cartman laughed.

"Which one? I have six out there right now, and five in LA. Katrina threatened to have my head if I add anything else to her department." Punching the brunette lightly in the shoulder, the blonde rolled his eyes.

"You know perfectly well which one I mean dude." Brown eyes glanced away. "It's going fine. Better than I expected actually. We'll see how it goes."

"Cool. So if you don't need me, I want to head back home. Kyle dropped a bombshell, and I don't want Stan to do anything too retarded." He wandered over to the far wall, examining the photographs sitting there. Train tracks; how nostalgic.

"I don't know why you insist on babysitting those two. You could just move out here. It would be much more convenient than flying back and forth every couple of weeks."

"Dude. We've had this argument before. No. I'm not moving out here. South Park is the only place where if I get run down by a car they aren't going to sue the driver. I'm not going to cause a panic in a city this big. It wouldn't be worth the trouble." He watched as Cartman shrugged.

"Fine." He glanced up from the file, flopping ungracefully into the black chair behind his desk. "So what is this bombshell the Jew is dropping this time? He's coming out of the closet finally?" Kenny turned back towards his friend, grinning.

"No, just the opposite actually. He's getting married." Cartman blinked, jaw dropping slightly. "Wow, the great Eric Cartman speechless. I'm impressed."

"Shut up peasant. I just- huh. I suppose that it had to happen eventually. How is Stan taking it?"

"Oh, horribly. Obviously. You know how jealous he is of anyone who takes Kyle's attention. I've never decided if I actually believed he was gay or not; he sure does act it." He scratched his chin absently. It was definitely time to shave again.

"I guess I'm taking a few days off then." It was his turn to freeze, and turn to his friend. Eric never took personal days aside from his mother's birthday, and Christmas.

"What?" He gapped, unsure what was going on.

"Obviously I'm flying back to Colorado with you. I have to meet the broad who managed to snatch up one of the dynamic gaywads. Plus my mother has been bothering me to come visit again." He jabbed a finger down on the intercom on his desk. "Mark? I'm taking a few days off. Pass all calls that can't wait on to my cell phone, and tell Katrina to grow a pair and deal with her petty little problems on her own. That's why I hired her. I also need to plane tickets to Denver Colorado."

"No problem Boss man." The voice came threw clearly on the small speaker. "Hi Kenny." Kenny grinned at Mark's impertinence. The little intern turned personal assistant was one of the most irritatingly efficient and unflappable humans he had ever met. He had watched him get crushed by a falling boulder in the middle of a city street and before Cartman had turned to explain he had lawyers, a funeral home, and the 911 operator on conference call.

"So it's back to the hick town for the big city slicker?" he asked, grinning as he watched the other man toss papers into his briefcase, muttering to himself.

"Shut up. You're getting a free plane ticket, don't push it." Kristen had managed to get one up on him, Kyle, and Stan but Cartman was an entity in himself. It should be interesting.