Disclaimer: I don't own SpongeBob SqaurePants. He and the rest of the characters belong to their rightful owner the genius; Stephen Hilenburg.

Notes: I couldn't decide whether the title of this chapter should have been called accidentally or indirectly. SpongeBob may seem OOC (he's 25), so I apologize. I can't believe I've got 60 reviews. You guys are the best! Thanks for the reviews. Enjoy this one!

Title: Indirectly

It was Saturday. Before the day of relaxation and after the last day of work during the week. Miraculously SpongeBob actually had a day off work. Mr Krab's reason for this was that he had a very special planned meeting with a green ladies. SpongeBob tried to tell Squidward it was an actual lady but Squidward disregarded him and told him it was cash. The main point was that he had a day off so he wasn't going to waste the opportunity. He was going to spend time with one of his greatest friends (who happened to be his crush secretly) all day.

Both the yellow invertebrate and brown vertebrate were seated on the picnic bench at Seashell Park. This park was deemed as dangerous ever since the two karate choppers destroyed the place once upon a time. Sandy stood up and threw the glossy, unreliable, 5.50 booklet to the floor. She didn't forget to stamp on it. Quite hard.

"Ugh. This whole thing is a load of cow dung," To express her hatred for the magazine, with her super-duper-extraordinary-unbelievable strength. The female squirrel crushed the forty-two page paper into a tiny ball and threw it straight into the bin 800 centimetres away where it landed perfectly. SpongeBob gave her a ten out of ten. He would give her twenty if she did it again blindfolded. "Like I'd marry that jerk."

"Who would?" The yellow sponge that spoke whole-heartedly agreed with her. He was delighted she didn't want to marry a muscle head like that. The guy resembled Larry a little too much. He didn't like it.

"This is the fourth time now. Every time I take one of those quizzes in those magazines, I'm always paired up with this sporty-jerk for marriage." Her insults were not yet over.

"I'm sure if you put his brains in a bumblebee, he would fly backwards." He laughed to relief her frustration and a thought came to him. So what kind of guys did Sandy deem marriageable? This could be his chance.

"If muscle heads like," He faked cough and said the name Larry "Aren't your type Sandy. Then what is?"

By his words she actually started to consider what her type really was.

"Well a type that's funny. Funniness is a great charm, if he can make me laugh, he's got me." SpongeBob grinned at this; he made her laugh every day.

"What else?"

"I don't see anything wrong in a guy whose friendly. Friendly in a sense that he's truly my friend before anything else we become or whatever happens."

The grin on the yellow sponge was not going to disappear soon. For twelve years. Twelve. Him and Sandy had been the greatest of friends (aside from Patrick). They still retained their bond through their ups and downs in their relationship. They always managed to survive together in life or death situations; that surely meant something.

"Chivalrousness. A charming sweet guy who can make me feel special." Chivalrousness and charms. Yup, he had it covered.

A lot of the features she liked in a guy were in fact referring indirectly to a certain guy who happened to be one of her friends. Maybe he would soon find out.

"To round it all off. You want a charming, funny, friendly-"

"Handsome!" She coughed "For my type I would like a good looking guy."

SpongeBob knew he was good-looking, he just hoped she didn't mean muscle wise as he didn't really have any in that department. He wanted to cut her off and ask her what she meant by good looking but it seemed as if she had more to say.

"A good-looking guy with gorgeous eyes. Not a typical brown colour found anywhere but a beautiful blue that reminds me of the sea and sky." The squirrel eyes seemed glazed as her voice took on a soft, dreamy tone accompanied with a sigh. Her descriptions went on.

"My type is bright in colour on the inside and definitely out. A golden yellow just like the sun. I don't mind some naivety because of his optimistic nature."

"And also-"

She continued and continued whilst the poor sponge felt like he had lost hope. Sandy's type of guy needed breath taking blue eyes, yellow skin, a naive and cheery...Holy Krabby patties! That phrase ran through the sponge's mind like a gold medalled Olympian. Sandy said her type was yellow, blue eyes, cheery. Cheery was SpongeBob's middle name, she was talking about him (indirectly)! As the yellow guy concluded that Sandy probably didn't know she was referring indirectly to him. A light bulb appeared above the yellow sponge's head and he wondered. Couldn't he indirectly ask her questions about her specific type to make sure it was him.

"Your type is a blue eyed, happy-go-lucky guy, right?"

She was still in her daze "Yeah."

"So it wouldn't really matter if he was on the short side."

"No. Why would it?"

"No reason. What if he worked at a world-class fast food establishment?"

"As long as he has a job, but when put it that way, world-class sounds pretty good." The sponge's grin grew wide, Sandy saw this but made nothing of it.

"What sports would he have to be into?"

"Definitely karate. He wouldn't be able to beat me of course. Just occasionally."

"Let me get this straight. Your type is preferably a yellow sponge with blue eyes a funny, friendly personality and a lover of karate?"

"What's your deal SquarePants? So what if my type is a sponge, with blue eyes, charming, funny, my friend, karate lover and, and. Oh." The realisation set in quicker than a barefoot jack rabbit on a hot greasy griddle in the middle of August. That big smirk of his told her everything.

"I-I wasn't. It isn't. D-don't. You don't know who I'm talking about." After her spluttered mess she managed to form a sentence. She was not revealing anything, no way, no how. Her body acted on it's own and turned away from him facing the pond.

SpongeBob leaned back into the bench like everything in the world was okay

"Are you sure Sandy? Because you're actin' jumpier than a rattlesnake in a pickle barrel." The Texan saying was accompanied by SpongeBob's infamous Texan voice impression of Sandy. She wouldn't admit that it was pretty good.

The squirrel was mad, how dare he use her sayings against him. She really should defend herself and retort something back but she didn't know what to say. The tables were turned against her this time.

The sponge chuckled very deeply. "Either you want a guy like my type or...I am your type. Which one is it Sandy?"

The blush that flourished on her cheeks was hidden from SpongeBob but he somehow managed to sense it was there. The blush wasn't just developed by embarrassment but disbelief. Sandy wasn't sure what year or month SpongeBob matured that lead him becoming smarter. She really did missed the days when he was in love with a krabby patty and had the mental and emotional state of a ten-year old child.

Author's note: Guess what parallel this chapter is to? Spandy this, Spandy that. Spandy, Spandy, Spandy. Thanks for reading. Please REVIEW! Constructive Criticism and advice is always welcomed.