Apologies for how long this took – I have been working a lot of night shifts recently.

Response to Reviews:

Wendy's baby will be… haven't decided yet. It's not really vital to the story.

I have researched azoospermia, thank you. Shari is a doctor for a reason. And this subplot will have a lot more twists and turns than you'd think.

I imagine most people are waiting for completion before commenting so that might be why there are few reviews, or perhaps they find children in fics off-putting and are skipping over it. Hopefully the loveliness you've all written will persuade them to give this a try.

There will be some light Shari+Kyle fluff (he was married to her after all) but this will be balanced out by Cartman/Kyle rimming.

But first we have Mrs. Cartman being Mrs. Cartman.

Liane accosted Kyle with a far-too-affectionate hug – advancing in some way towards dry-humping – almost as soon as he walked through the door. "Ooh it's been a while, dear, how have you been?"

He gave a pleading look over at Cartman and Addie; both stood behind her sharing twin glares. Kyle finally stuttered, "Fine thank you, Mrs. Cartman."

"Liane, please, I insist," she giggled, keening into him. "Mrs. Cartman makes me sound old."

"Gr-an-d-ma!" Addie snapped from her side, sounding out every syllable.

"Oh no, that sounds even older!" Liane wailed. Kyle assured her she didn't look any different to when they were kids. Placated, she went back into the kitchen to check on the roast. He exhaled with relief. Was there some faulty gene hidden in the Cartman family DNA that made them all want him?

Addie had already shifted closer to him and he took the opportunity to give her a gift – the sketch pad and colouring pencils Cartman texted him about. She eyed the lovely variety of reds and greens and immediately planned a wonderful zombie apocalypse scene in her head. "Don't start anything yet," Cartman advised sagely.

"Why not?" Kyle asked on her behalf. She had already skipped over to the coffee table, completely ignoring Cartman.

"She gets into this 'zone' when she's really into a piece, and there's no getting her out of it. Not even for food. Well, sometimes food." Mentioning food seemed to remind Cartman of something and he left wordlessly for the kitchen. Kyle made himself comfortable and watched Addie draw with the same furrowed brow and puckered lips as Cartman wore when he concentrated.

Something was off with him. Kyle had perceived that easily. But what exactly? He'd been quite content that morning, right? Kissing and nibbling and… He readjusted his legs. Probably not a good idea to think about that kind of thing right now.

"Addie, sweetie," Liane returned with a brisk smile. "Grandma needs to fetch a few things for din-dins. Want to come with me?"

She gave a noncommittal grunt. She was far too busy finding the right shade for the pus coming out of the main zombie's eyes.

"Don't you want dessert?"

She did like dessert. But pus didn't colour itself. Liane eventually coaxed her out with the promise that she could pick out the dessert. Liane escorted her granddaughter through the door first so she could lean back to wink at her son. "Bye poopsikins, have fun with your little friend!"

"Subtle mom, real subtle," Cartman growled under his breath. He looked back at Kyle's unsuspecting form, hugged up on the couch, observing Addie's drawing with unease.

"Your daughter's uh… imaginative. This kind of thing would scare the shit out of me as a kid."

"The only thing she's scared of is sea otters."

"Sea otters?!"

"Don't ask," Cartman said grimly. "I fucking hate them too."

"Ooookay then." Kyle hopped up from the couch. "Hey, I don't suppose you've got any spare clothes here? I don't want to ruin my work clothes."

Cartman looked him over. "Got some stuff from when I first got back here. Shouldn't be too big on you. Come on." Cartman led the way up the stairs, pointlessly. Kyle had been to his room a thousand times before.

"Welcome home!" Kyle beamed infectiously. Unfortunately it wasn't going to work on Shari, not when she had been shouted at by entitled parents and covered in various children's bodily fluids all day. She sank into the couch and took the tea he offered with a grateful sigh. "Bad day?" he probed.

"Extremely."

"Want a back rub?"

"Just a back rub?" she queried.

Kyle held her suspicious gaze with an equally offended frown, "Yes, a husband is perfectly capable of offering a back rub to a tired wife without an ulterior motive."

"Sorry," she relaxed into his hands. "Things are getting worse at the hospital. No wonder no-one wants to be a doctor these days." Kyle nodded. Four years of medical school he had survived, but one year of residency and he'd shattered. It was either that or become a straight-up alcoholic like so many of the others. Even Shari was on a glass of wine most nights.

They talked about her day briefly as Kyle worked his way through her shoulder muscles until she was pliant and sated. He liked these times best, just the two of them enjoying the quiet of the evening before a late dinner. It was always a late dinner.

"Shari, uh, about dinner. I only just got in so I ordered out. Chinese okay?"

"Mmm." She was too sleepy to listen.

"You've got to eat, Shari."

"M'kay." Kyle laughed at her, remembering his old school counsellor saying exactly that, same intonation and everything. She sprang up from out of his lap. "Wait, what do you mean you just got in?"

"Oh, well I had to uh…"

"You were at Stan's again weren't you?" It felt like Kyle took every chance he could to prance over to his friend's house and avoid helping her out. "No wonder the place is a mess."

"I was gonna clean. Honest. Something came up," Kyle began.

She had already begun picking up around the room. "I suppose you didn't look for any work today either. Part-time waiting must be your true calling for all the enthusiasm you put into looking for a new job."

Kyle curled into himself, feeling like he married his mother. It wasn't like he didn't already feel useless. Didn't need it confirmed. He tried to change the subject. "Actually I have a confession. I did have a secret motive for that back rub. But it's not what you think."

She stopped tidying and crossed her arms. This was going to be good.

"Stan invited me round. He wanted to tell me… He needed some help with… well basically Stan and Wendy want to have a baby but he has azoospermia. Do you… know much about it?"

"Of course. I still plan to specialise in paediatrics and the fertility guys are practically our BFF's in the medical world. What kind does he have?" Kyle shrugged. "Well that's helpful," she scoffed. "It could mean anything from a blockage to having his balls outright ripped off." He winced at the thought. Shari fell back down onto the couch, rubbing her eyes wearily. "You want me to scratch some backs or something at work. Don't you? You know I'm just a resident, right? I don't have that much influence."

He took his place beside her. "I'm not suggesting nepotism or anything, like moving them up any lists. But they're our friends Shari. Shouldn't we help them if we can?"

She ran a hand through his hair. "You're right, sorry I snapped. I have a few people I can talk to. See what options there are. Probably intracytoplasmic sperm injection."

"I've no idea what you just said."

"Whip out a gamete from them both and mash them together in a lab."

"Wow, that's possible? So he might have some sperm after all?"

"Most likely. Like I said, azoospermia covers a lot of things."

"See that's why you're the doctor," he grinned kissing her forehead. "My smart beautiful wonderful doctor wife."

"Now you're just sucking up. If you really want to thank me get those hands back on my shoulders."

"Yes ma'am." Kyle obeyed with relish. "Actually I'm really relieved that Stan might be able to father the baby. He was so desperate he even asked me to donate."

"HE FUCKING WHAT?"

Kyle could just about recall the last time he'd been in Cartman's room. They were sixteen and had a group project at school. Random assignment had forced them together with Clyde and Kyle had regularly thrown up from the stress of organising the pair of them around the project.

Clyde wasn't very smart and it was proving difficult to find something he could actually do. Cartman was smart but frustratingly lazy and refused to obey 'Jew orders'. In the end Kyle did most of the actual research and writing by himself. Clyde drew a few pictures for the presentation. Cartman turned up on the day it was due in, and that was his only contribution. Kyle put his name on the project because it wasn't worth the argument.

If that Kyle could see this Kyle, half-naked in Cartman's room, he'd have thrown up even more.

"Here," said Cartman, thrusting out a t-shirt with an anime character neither of them recognised on the front.

Kyle held up the shirt in disbelief. "An XL? There's no way you were ever a fucking XL, Cartman."

"Well, it was a little tight," Cartman admitted. He staggered back as Kyle pressed it up against his chest.

Kyle shook his head unhappily. "I don't ever want to see you this size again."

"Oh, so you want me dead of a heart attack at forty, huh?"

"No. But you're not meant to be this small."

"So you finally admit I'm big-boned," Cartman smirked, triumphant. Kyle just rolled his eyes and pulled on the loose t-shirt. Cartman dug out a pair of sweatpants. Way too big, but at least Kyle could tie them tighter. He put them aside for the moment. He was in no hurry to get Kyle redressed. Pissed as he was about his ex-wife, he couldn't quite bring himself to snub an opportunity like this.

Kyle smiled up at him as he sat back on the bed. "So…"

"So," Cartman echoed, catching the glint in Kyle's eyes.

"You finally got me alone in your room. Gonna do something about it?"

"Nope." He took off his shirt anyway.

"C'mon. You must've cooked up something over the years."

"Sure but…" Cartman flopped down next to him, "you couldn't handle it."

Kyle rolled towards him. "Kinky, huh?"

"More… I dunno. Athletic."

"You saying I'm not athletic?"

"I'm saying you ain't got the stamina for the filth I have planned."

"Day-amn," Kyle laughed, letting Cartman lift his shirt so his lips could begin their new favourite path down to his stomach. "How long's your mom gonna be out?"

"Long enough for what I have in mind." But Cartman didn't seem to want to take any risks, his mouth already sneaking its way to Kyle's clothed cock. Kyle obligingly lifted his hips and his underwear was quickly disposed. Cartman signalled for his shirt to come off and began to rummage in one of his dresser drawers. "There's no romantic way to ask this," Cartman began, "when'd you last use the bathroom?"

Kyle tilted his head at the small tube he took out. Nerves got the better of him. "Um, Cartman, I don't think we have time fo-"

"Do you trust me?"

"Not really," he retorted but playfully enough that Cartman just laughed.

He parked himself between Kyle's legs. "Nice to know you haven't lost your common sense, Jew."

"Back to that are we, fatass?"

"Uh-uh, can't call me that. You admitted I'm meant to be hefty."

"Can't call me Jew either, ab."

Cartman popped the cap off the lubricant. "Kahl… You're going to regret that."

Still a little malnourished but otherwise much better than the first time Addie was brought in was what Cartman took away from the technical babbling of the doctor in front of him. "Oh, and congratulations on a successful paternity test." Cartman nodded back. He could have done it from home but the AABB gave him a legal backbone.

How often had he woken up in a cold sweat thinking services were knocking down the motel door? That they might use the fact that he had no proof of parentage to keep them apart.

He couldn't believe how quickly he'd abandoned his detached cool lone-wolf persona. His friends would find it hilarious – Cartman sat in a medical office holding Clyde Frog and with the remnants of purple glitter on his face from making a card for Liane's birthday. A joint birthday celebration was in the works, as Addie's was only a few days after her grandmother's.

"Of course," said the paediatrician snapping Cartman back into the present, "there was probably little doubt. You're very alike I must say."

Cartman nodded again and he exchanged a grin with his kid. The only difference really was the weight and eyes. Addie's were the same blue as her mother's, slightly watery compared to Cartman's brighter, deeper blue. An old girlfriend had called them cobalt, and he'd rather liked the descriptor.

"So in summation, get a little more vitamin D and you'll both be peachy. Not a clinical term, of course," the doctor concluded.

"Vitamin D. So that's like, what, milk and stuff?"

"Exactly."

Addie tugged at Cartman's arm. "Hey, hey, Cartman, hey!"

"What?"

"The doctor just said I need the D!" They both giggled.

"I don't get it?" said the doctor as they broke out into peals of laughter.

Athletic wasn't really the word Cartman had meant, Kyle thought, or at least tried to considering the position he was in was making all the blood rush to the wrong kind of head. Supple was closer to Cartman's requirements for something like this. Nonetheless, Kyle found himself upside down, Cartman's thick arms holding him against his chest as his tongue moved up (down?) to his panting hole, branded red from the cherry lube and prior intense licking. He wasn't sure he could handle any more as Cartman's tongue flattened and re-explored, dragged along his asshole then prodded delicately inside.

"Let-let me down," he gasped in sudden panic.

Cartman was reluctant, but lowered him instantly. "Too much?"

"No… no…" Kyle gave him a helpless smile as he massaged his calves. "Cramp in my leg."

"Heh, I guess it is a bit of a porn move. Not really designed for longevity."

"I liked it though. I mean… yeah, no, I did. The rimming anyway."

"Let's try it in a better position. We got time." Cartman rearranged them so he was on the floor and Kyle was crouched in front and Hell yeah that's better, thought Kyle. A little exposed and embarrassing but Cartman was opening him with his thumbs and burying his tongue so deep he really didn't fucking care.

What he did care about was the sound of Liane's car pulling up.

Stan leapt out of the filthy old pick-up's path as it careened past with no regard. "Fucking lunatic," he hollered as it zoomed out of the hospital lot. Still, if you're going to get run over, near a hospital was a good place to do it.

Right now he was more interested in catching up with Shari, halfway across the lot and unlocking her car. "Shari, hey!"

She grudgingly stopped and greeted him. "Hello, Stan. What brings you to the hospital?"

"Not what you'd think," he laughed. "I've got a job across the street and saw you coming out. I just wanted to thank you for recommending Dr. Memari. Got a few tests booked in and well, fingers crossed, right?"

"He's one of the best, that's for sure." A falsely benign smile crossed her face and she glanced impatiently at her car door. "Well, I really should be going. Good luck with everything."

"Wait, I er… thing is. Kyle hasn't been over for weeks. Not even for New Year. Is he okay?"

"Truthfully? No. He was really freaked out by what you asked of him."

"What I…? Oh. Right. Really?" That didn't sound right. Kyle had left in high spirits that day, and sure when he called a week later to say Shari had contacted a few colleagues about the situation he seemed a little quiet but… but maybe after mulling it over at home, the weirdness of it all probably hit him.

But Kyle wouldn't avoid him. He wasn't like that. Not with Stan.

"Maybe I should come over? Smooth things over."

"I would advise against it."

"Well what if-"

Shari slammed the car door shut and rounded on him. "You don't get it, do you? You tried to stud him out like a prize-winning bull. To your own wife?"

"That's… it's not even like that!" he stammered helplessly. "It's just he's my best friend and…" He had no idea what his line of reasoning was supposed to be. He could see it from her point of view, from most people's point of view. He couldn't make the argument for his case when he barely believed it himself. All he knew was that he had been in a bad situation and Kyle was the obvious solution. Why wouldn't he be?

"You're sick." She got into the car, pausing as she tugged at her seatbelt for one last piece of advice. "Stay away from my husband. Both of you."

"Why are they showering before dinner?" Addie faced her grandmother with an A-star pout.

"Well, Kyle's been at work all day. He probably wants to be all squeaky clean for dinner," Liane soothed.

"So why is Cartman in there?"

"Daddy," she corrected. "He might want to be squeaky clean too."

Liane just wasn't getting her real question. Or perhaps avoiding it. "Why are they in there TOGETHER?" Addie almost screamed.

She paused. "It saves on water."

Addie went back to her picture on the coffee table and shaded in a pool of blood with ferocity, only looking up again when her father made a sheepish entrance. "You're back early," he mumbled guiltily.

Liane nodded apologetically, which was followed by an impish grin. "Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes. I'm sure you boys are hungry by now." Cartman grumbled as she ran off to the kitchen.

Addie poked his side. "Your hair's wet."

"I was in the shower."

"With Kyle?"

He paused. "Saves on water."

They really did think she was stupid, didn't they?

Cracking the air from his knuckles, the Boss picked up his Poker cards and poured over the pathetic selection. He couldn't figure it out. Every hand he got failed and he was already fifty dollars out of pocket. The little girl sat across the dingy table smiled and reordered her cards. Was she somehow… fixing the hands? Ridiculous. She was only six.

Cartman approached from the bathroom. "Boss," he mumbled.

"I was beginning to think you'd drowned, Eric."

"You wish." Cartman ruffled Addie's hair. "Gonna go have a chat with the boss, honey. You wait here."

"The Boss has been teaching me Poker," she said with a mischievous smile. He matched it and followed his boss outside the motel room. Once out of her sight he handed over a large bag and received the pre-agreed payment. The Boss peeked inside the bag and nodded his approval. "I must say Eric, I'm disappointed we're not going to have our usual bonus arrangement."

"I told you," Cartman folded his arms. "You gotta warn me and I gotta be near South Park so I can leave her with mom."

The Boss trailed a hand along Cartman's thigh. "How about you just stop dragging that little cock-blocker everywhere you go?"

Cartman jerked his head to the side. "How about you call her that again and I smash your face in with that fire extinguisher over thar."

"So the cat has claws," he chuckled and pressed his tongue into Cartman's mouth, pulling away only when things got too heated. It wasn't worth getting worked up if Cartman wasn't putting out. "See you around, darling. Thanks for the merchandise."

The moment he was gone, Cartman wiped his mouth.

Ab - Hebrew word for father. I personally prefer the spelling ahv but ab is closer to the pronunciation and is more recognised.

And yes that was Cartman that nearly ran over Stan but neither of them know it. I love serendipity.

We all know that it was his idea to put glitter on the birthday card, you're fooling no-one Eric.

Also you may have noticed I use British spelling (because I am) and I hope it's not off-putting. I just can't bring myself to not do that. I'm using American versions of words though, like pants/trousers and I'm trying to make the language sound American at least. How am I doing?

A quick word of warning – I am hoping to have a new chapter within the next two weeks because I'm going on vacation (muthafuckin Disney y'all). If I miss my deadline then I'm sorry to say there won't be a new chapter for about a month. Sorry in advance if this happens. I'll try my best but work gets in the way, as is life, ho hum.