A/N- Not sure where I'm going with this, since I started it so long ago. Let me know if I should keep going and what you think of it so far.


We walk into Tweek's and he's right there at the register, moving a thousand miles an hour. He barely pauses when the bell over the door rings to announce that we entered. The place isn't even that busy but he's running around, cleaning and reclining things. I've never understood that guy, but he seems happy enough with his unnecessarily face-paced life.

"Sit anywhere, I'll be with you in a moment!" he says, in his voice that constantly sounds like the most stressful thing is happening. I don't know how he hasn't killed his vocal chords. It always sounds like he's straining his voice so much, hurting it more attempting to sound calm than he would if he were just yelling.

I look around for an open table, but it turns out I don't need to. "Cartman, Kyle!" Butters chirps enthusiastically. "Come sit with us!"

He has this huge smile spread across his face, his blue eyes lighting up like he's never been happier to see anyone. I haven't seen Butters much, despite us going to the same college, but I've always appreciated and admired how he can always make someone feel welcome. It seems like he just treats everyone like they're his best friend. In elementary school, that got him pushed around, but now, it feels nice.

Sitting with him is Craig, leaning all the way back in his chair. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was bored and displeased with the company. But that's how Craig always is. If Butters can't be mean to save his life, then Craig can't be enthusiastic to save his. He just gives Cartman and me a little half-wave.

"Sup, fags," Cartman says, collapsing into one of the chairs, which miraculously doesn't break. Craigs flips him off in response. "Ay! Fuck you, Craig, is that how you greet me after all these years?"

And Craig just flips him off again.

I laugh, sitting in the chair next to Butters, who smiles so genuinely and sweetly that I can't help but smile at him, too. "Hey, there!" he says. "How've you been?"

I shrug. "Looks like I'll be in South Park the rest of my life. How 'bout you?"

"Great!" he says, the excitement in his voice almost surprising. He obviously didn't catch the bitterness in my tone, but I didn't expect him to. "I just got a job at the elementary school, so I should be around for a while, too!"

"Oh?" I ask. "What will you be doing there?"

He gets a little red. Butters always hates being the focus of a conversation. "Well, right now, I'm gonna be teaching a summer class for little kids. When school starts again in September, I'll probably just be an assistant, but I'm hoping to be a kindergarden teacher after a while."

I grin. "That sounds perfect for you."

He shrugs, looking more and more embarrassed by the second. "That's awful nice of you to say. So what are you doing then?"

My grin falters and I sigh. "Working for my dad."

"Well, that's not too bad," Butters says, his tone still cheerful.

"Yeah, he's just being a pussy about it," Cartman pipes up. "I've already had to hear all about it."

"Fuck you, dude," I retort back, punching him in the arm.

"I've been back an hour and he's already hit me like ten times!" Cartman whines to Craig, pointing at me.

Craig raises an eyebrow at him and then turns to me. "It's better than being unemployed," he says in his monotone.

"I guess," I reply, though I'm not convinced that it is.

Tweek walks over to us, not quite as shaky as he used to be, but he still seems to be twitching. "What can I get you guys?" he says.

"Your finest lobster, my good man!" Cartman says in a fake snooty voice. "With some caviar and perfectly aged wine! And hurry it up, please."

Tweek stares at him, still for a moment. "Right," he says slowly, turning to the rest of us. "What about for you guys?"

"I'll have what he's having," Craig says dryly, pointing his bony finger at Cartman.

Tweek just blinks and looks at me and Butters.

"I'll just have a latte and the turkey sandwich," I say, sighing a little.

"May I please have the banana waffle and some hot cocoa?" Butters asks.

Tweek jots it down and starts to leave, but Cartman stops him. "Wait, wait, I want the cheese omelet," he says, clearly unwilling to give up food for a joke.

"And I'll just take a coffee," Craig interjects quickly.

Tweek just rolls his eyes and walks away.

"Guys, he didn't write it down," Cartman says, lowering his voice. "What if he forgets?"

"We're literally the only customers, fatass," I reply.

"Hey, I just want to make sure I'm getting my food, I'm fucking hungry."

"You always are," I say back, raising one eyebrow. He tosses a sugar packet at me in response.

After a while, when our food is ready, Tweek joins us at the table, saying that he might as well take his lunch now. We just end up falling into old habits, laughing and talking like we used to. It's kind of nice, hanging out with these guys. I haven't seen much of them since high school, and we'd gotten pretty close junior and senior year. I feel kind of bad that I didn't make much of an effort to keep in touch in college, but now we're all home anyway, so I guess I can make up for lost time.