Special Thanks: Abby, Sparkus, Soneka the Hedgehog, Crow t R0bot, californianwhohatescalifornia, and flores para los muetos.

Warning: Mushyness...more mush than in previous chapters.

Yeah and when I roll with my head in the wind
And I feel like the king of the
Dead men wishin they had gotten together with you girl
But you're a dirty little liar with a message of obsession to come

You got your head in the clouds and your world's upside down
Get away from the life you're living
Get away from the man that's stealing your life
Get away from the drugs you're taking
Get away from the film of sex in your life
-Dirty Little Thing, Velvet Revolver

Once outside, Wendy plopped down on one of the stony steps leading into the building. Burying her face in her hands she growled with frustration. "Have you become some little man-bitch? How could you move onto Bebe so quickly?"

"What do you care?" Stan replied placantly, his hands buried deep in his pockets, staring out at the freshly risen moon.

Wendy gasped with shock at this response. "I do!"

"Why?"

"Be-because, I can't believe you'd move on to Bebe so quickly!"

"Just playing your game."

Wendy sighed heavily, glaring at her dainty feet and then clamping her eyes shut. "Stan- I'm sorry."

"Come again?"

"I'm sorry!" She shrieked, tears blurring her stormy-grey eyes. "I'm sorry I wanted to use you, I'm sorry I couldn't see the guy you are, I'm sorry for hurting you!" The tears were running freely now, causing her eyeliner and mascara to run and form exotic lines on her pale cheeks.

Stan continued to stare at the moon stupidly, blinking and fighting back his own tears; but his tears weren't of frustration, or anger, or even regret. No, they were the sweet, simple tears of joy. This confession, this apology, was not at all what Stan had in mind, but it certainly was better than what he was expecting. He turned slowly and got her to stand up, wrapping his arms around her in a warm embrace. He rested his head on the top of hers, and inhaled the sweet aroma of her shampoo.

She sllowed Stan to hold her for a few moments before pushing away from him. A hurt look danced across his features as she did so, but his heart melted at the sight of her soft crying. "No, Stan...I don't want your charity pity. I don't think you understand."

His lower lip fell open slightly. "Understand what, exactly?"

She bit her lower lip in thought, and wrapped her arms around herself in a hug. "I- I'm not so sure myself, Stan." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I don't know what's going on, Stan. I got so used to superficial, meaningless relationships, and they were hollow and unsatisfying. And, we, we stopped talking to each other shortly after our break up, and I hate to admit it but I almost forgot about you. That is, until you beat the shit out of Craig for pummeling Kenny." She let out a haut, nervous laugh. "And it pissed me off what Kenny did, what he said, but he was just trying to point to me that what I was doing to myself wasn't the best thing for me. And I was also pissed off when you came after Craig, but I realized shortly afterwards that it was only because you came after my boyfriend of the moment. So with that logic, why was I mad at Craig for defending himself against you?" She paused to recollect her thoughts. "Because it was just that. Because it was you."

At some point during this speech, Stan's eyes had lingered upon the sky once more, as if it were easier to take this all in by avoiding looking at Wendy. "Wendy-"

"I'm not done yet, Stan," She said hautily, holding a hand up as if she could physically stop him from speaking. "I realized something else after that fight. The only reason you came after Craig was because you were avenging your friend. No, avenging makes it sound evil. You were merely standing up for Kenny, protecting him, and I really admired that...that you would risk getting yourself hurt to defend your friend. I feel bitchy for this but that was what got me to notice you again, and I began to wonder if you were so protective of your friends, your pals, how would you treat your girlfriend?"

"Like I would treat my friends?"

"But better, I assume?"

"More than likely."

"Yes, you would, because I watched you and Bebe in there, and even though, I hope, that wasn't a real date, you treated her with the respect and honesty she deserves. I know you are the kind of guy to treat the one you love with that respect and-" her voice cracked, and she let that subject drop. "But anyways...when I saw Craig bullying you at school, I just lost it. I couldn't stand seeing him treat such a good person with such anger and brutality, so I dumped him." She continued to grow more and more awkward by the second, and at the mention of dumping a boyfriend, she stared at her shoes once more. "And then I wanted to go out with you, because I found myself noticing you more and more, your cute little quirks, like the way you blush everytime I, or any girl for that matter, talked to you, or the way your voice cracks when you're nervous. Needless to say I found myself experiencing a weird sort of excitement when you said we'd go out on a date, and what a wonderful date it started out to be." Her face lit up slightly as she reminisced on the beginning of the date, "It was the sweetest thing a guy had ever done for me, it was small and simple yet so wonderful in everyway. I never completely grasped the severity of your romanticism, and I bet that I probably never will be able to, but remembering something so small, like eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches when we were little, won me over. I fould myself completely absorbed in your every word, but then I began to grow nervous. Like I said, I got used to meaningless relationships...so I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what you wanted. And quickly those strange feelings, those butterflies, began to turn into lust and I- I couldn't help myself." The tears began to flow again, her shoulders shaking slightly with each sob. "When you left me there, with that expression on your face, I felt the strangest feeling I have ever felt. I felt extreme guilt and remorse, and something else that even to this very second I could not name. I couldn't stop thinking about you since that date, and it's driving me crazy. I-in a good way."

This can't be happening, Stan thought, his face dumb and seemingly sour, She can't be confessing her love for me, not naughty, promiscuous Wendy.

"And seeing you bring Bebe really got to me, Stan. It made me realize that you could get any girl you wanted. I was the lucky girl you wanted, but I refused to let myself be that girl. And I finally saw what I looked like, bringing random guys, or in your case, girls, in to the picture to either prove a point or release some tension. I want to change, Stan. You make me want to change. I want to change for you." Her cries came harder, but not louder, and her whole body shaked. She laid a hand on his shoulder, turning him around to face her, and pressed her trembling lips against his tightly pursed ones. She held them there as she was hit by another racking sob, but after a moment turned and ran for her car.

Stan stood there for a few minutes, staring off into space with a thoughtful expression. He turned and went inside, his large group of friends jumping at the site of his hollow expression, and the lack of Wendy's return. He simply walked past them and into the bathroom, where he vomited his heart up.

After hiding in the bathroom for about thirty minutes, Stan decided to make himself visible to the others once more. He wore a hollow, unsure look and his face was drained of all color. Small, puffy pink clouds formed around Stan's eyes from the strain of his previous activity.

Bebe was currently pressed against Kyle, her arm around him and her head rested on his shoulder. She had one of Kyle's vivid curls wrapped around her finger, and she toyed with it absentmindedly. Kyle's cheeks were a brilliant shade of red, and his eyes were wide with fear and confusion, but he had never really been held by a girl before, and wasn't so sure how he should handle it. The other boys, minus Kenny, were confused by this behavior, because afterall she had shown up with Stan as his date. Tweek watched them with a quivering eye and when Stan showed up he let out a little yelp.

"I didn't touch your date!" He quirped, jerking around in his seat. "It was Kyle, all Kyle!"

"Tweek you stupid turd," Kyle snapped, his face now an unimaginable shade of red, his eyes watering with frustration. "Stan, I can explain."

Stan merely sat there, his face plain and expressionless until a small, stupid smile spread across his face. "It's okay, Kyle. I knew about this before." His head turned in Kyle's direction mechanically. "Way to go."

"So," Kenny said, wedging himself between Stan and Kyle, "What happened?"

"I think," Stan said, dropping his voice several pitches, "I'm not sure, but I think Wendy just gave me the hugest confession of her life." Kenny's face lit up and he grabbed Stan's hand in a forced high-five.

"Alright, Stan! I knew you could do it! Where is she?"

"She ran off crying."

"Wait, what?"

"She gave me a huge speech, kissed me, and ran off before I could say anything," Stan sighed almost sadly, regretting not going after her. "It was...interesting."

"Just interesting?" Kenny asked, his brows furrowing with confusion. "Not wonderful or magical or all that woman shit?"

Stan shook his head, his hair bouncing, "It was interesting, and, yes,a little wonderful, but it was so mind-boggling I didn't have a chance to have an emotion."

Kenny rolled his eyes and responded, "What the crap? Judging by the way she asked you to go outside, with her fluttering her eyelashes and junk, we thought she was gonna beat the living shit out of you...or just try to rape you again."

Stan sighed. "No, what she did was far more confusing. I think I'm gonna go in a little bit, think things over and maybe give her a call or drop by her house."

"I think I wanna go home too!" Tweek shouted, fidgeting in his seat. "This is all too much for me! I don't know what's going on!"

"We-well maybe I should drive you home, Tweek," Butters piped, scratching the top of his head. "You could get in an accident or, or something."

"Butters you drive as slow as my damn grandma," Cartman cursed, returning with another basket of fries.

"I thought your grandma was dead," Butters questioned.

"That's my point, you stupid retard," he snapped, his eyes squinting shut in a typical Cartman-like fashion.

"Don't mind him, Butters," Stan said softly. "I think it's a good idea for you to drive Tweek home. Makes you a better person than-" He threw an accusing glance in Cartman's direction, "Some people."

"I never said I was a good person," Cartman replied matter-of-factly. "But I'm not a bad kid; I'm just bored."

"You are too a bad kid!" Butters shouted, pointing an angry finger at him. "Why, I remember when we were younger you pretended to be me and called my dad a pussy so he'd beat me!"

"Your parents beat you?" Tweek asked, surprisingly calm for his character.

"Well, yeah," Butters responded, rubbing his knuckles together. "I mean, no, not anymore. Sure they did when I was young, but I needed to learn to mind my manners!" His brows furrowed as he waved a scolding finger at no one in particular. "They were j-just disciplining me to make me a decent human being. Why, look at me now!" He spread his arms out and let that charming, child-like smile of his shine proudly.

"I don't wanna look," Cartman spat icily, his words thick with sarcasm and annoyance, "Because I'm afraid your flaring gay-ness will burn my eyes right out of their sockets."

Stan reclined, realizing he wouldn't be able to leave until Butters and Tweek did so. Sure, he could easily have left then, but he wanted to make sure they got out of there with as little Cartman wounds as possible. "C'mon Cartman, lighten up. Let them leave with their dignity, alright?" He knew any sort of resistance was gone unnoticed and was rather pointless, for Cartman would of course have some kind of remark.

"Maybe it's better they leave now," He said slowly, his eyes growing smaller with mischeif, "Everyone knows they're gay for each other, don't want them licking each other's lollipops in front of us."

"Geeze Cartman," Kenny said seriously, any trace of jest vanished from his voice, "You seem to be making a lot of blowjob references lately. Quite frankly, we should be afraid about you...afterall, you're a pretty powerful guy, and you might come after our vulnerable bodies." Cartman's face flushed with a mix of rage and humiliation at Kenny's remarks, and his mouth hung open slightly.

"God Kenny, I am seriously pissed off right now..."

"Go on guys," Stan dismissed with a wave of his hand, "I think it's best for you to leave now, before Cartman's ego swells back to it's normal size again." With this Butters and Tweek eagerly got up and started towards the doors.

"Hey guys," Cartman called after them, already having a huge ego boost, "Keep count and let me know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop!" He sniggered defiantly until Kenny added, "Why? So you can know how many times to lick your mom's penis?"

The remainder of the group laughed roaringly as Cartman glared at the table, blushing once more. He clamped his eyes shut,and spoke quietly and sternly, "You guys, if you don't shut up now I'll kick you all in the nuts..."

"You wouldn't do that...you want them in perfect condition to suck 'em."

Cartman shot to his feet, knocking over stray chairs and random objects of the table, all landing in scattered heaps on the sticky yellow floor. "Fuck you, Kenny! Fuck you, Kyle! Fuck you, Stan! And fuck you, Bebe!" With each curse he pointed at the said person, his face contorted with so much rage they were temporarly paralyzed with fear. This quickly diminished as they watched his large figure run and waddle out of the building in a rage and they broke into quick fits of laughter again. They all knew it was perfectly clear that Cartman wasn't gay by the way they'd catch him looking at Wendy at times, or by the way he talked about some girls in his Health class, but it made it funnier to say he was.

"Hey Kyle."

They all turned at the sound of a child to find Ike standing there, soaking wet and drenched in water. His thin, black hair was plastered to his pale face and dropped off his eyelashes, falling either in puddles on the floor or clinging sweetly to his cheeks. His light blue t shirt had a large patch of dark blue where he had obviously been splashed with water and his child-like khakis wore thin lines of water. Kyle groaned.

"Jesus Ike, what the Hell did you do?"

"It was Flora!" He persisted innocently, his face wide with frustration. "The dirty bitch splashed her cup of water all over me because I said she was hot!"

Kyle looked past his younger brother to find a blonde girl with pigtails that was Ike's age, fuming with anger and glaring at Ike. "Oh God, I guess I better take you home then." He sighed through his teeth, slouching disappointedly and glancing apologetically at Bebe. "I'm so-"

A finger on his lips quieted him. "No, it's okay. Poor Red was left here all by herself when Wendy left. I should either go pay her some company or make sure Wendy wasn't her only ride so I can walk her home." Bebe glanced over her shoulder to find Red sitting by herself, staring at their table longingly.

"Don't worry about it, Bebe," Kenny said suddenly, staring at Red with a devious smile stretched across his handsome features. "I'll take care of Red." He then sauntered off to work his magic.

"Okay, so I guess I am alone now." Bebe frowned.

Stan coughed. "I can give you a ride home. I mean, you are my date."

Bebe nodded disappointedly. "Alright, but you aren't really my date," she added, looking at Kyle with a small, lustful smile. She ran her hand lightly on the back of Kyle's head, her fingers tracing down his neck. She leaned in and planted a firm kiss on Kyle's lips. He grunted, his eyes widening with shock, and slumped back in his seat as Bebe released him and went outside to wait for Stan. Kyle sat there, wide-eyed and staring out into space until Ike fidgeted and coughed nervously.

"Can we go now?"

"Wha...? Oh, uh yeah, we can..." Kyle stood slowly, a now small, twitching smile displaying itself on his face.

"I'll go ahead and get Bebe out of here," Stan said with a laugh, standing quickly and heading for the door, "That way she doesn't keep you any later than you need to be." Kyle nodded thankfully and leaned against the table, still in utter confusion at what had happened. He wore a bewildered and unbelieving expression that told others that this was something unexpected.

Ike rolled his small eyes. "I hope I don't act like you, you're being totally retarded, gaywad."

"Kick the baby," Kyle growled, still holding the time-honored tradition from when they were little.

Ike squealed. "Don't kick the baby!" The response was just an impulse now. There had been times when he used to insist that he wasn't a baby, but he eventually caved and found this remark more fitting. Kyle wrapped a hand around each of Ike's arms, turned him around, and kicked him right in his bottom.

Completely lost in bright pink, fluffy pillows, Wendy was sprawled out on top of her purple bed, staring up at the ceiling. The unemotional eyes of random teen heartthrobs stared back down at her, from posters littering every inch of her walls and ceiling, but those pictures didn't get her heart racing so much anymore. She held in her hand a crumpled photograph of her and Stan in the third or fourth grade, her arms around his neck in a loving embrace, and his face distorted and sickly looking, as if he were trying to keep his food down. However, his eyes held a loving and dear look in them, and Wendy knew he had been crazy for her.

She also knew that he deserved so much better than her. There was no telling where her promiscuoity would lead her and leave him, and she knew she cared too much about him to hurt him. The shivering voice of Bryan Adams' 'Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman' kept her company, as she thought the situation over.

...When you love a woman, you tell her that she's really wanted...

She knew Stan wouldn't hesitate to tell her how he felt, and if he didn't actually come out and say the words, his eyes and loving gazes would let her know.

...When you love a woman you tell her that she's the one...

Stan would tell her everything she wanted to hear; he was the kind of guy who would do anything for the girl he loved, even if it meant he got hurt in the process.

...'Cause she needs somebody to tell her that you'll always be together...

But is that what she really wanted? They were only teenagers, she wasn't sure she wanted such a serious relationship. She wasn't lying when she told Stan she wanted to change, that he made her want to change, but was it particularly for him? She felt in her heart that in a big way it was for Stan, but how healthy could it be to be so completely devoted to one person that'd you'd change your entire way of living for them? They were at a young age, and she knew perfectly well that her horomones were almost in complete charge of her thoughts and actions, and wasn't sure just how much she could trust these overwhelming feelings she hadn't felt for years, but she decided that they probably weren't the most reliable things to depend on.

Several small taps at her window broke her focus and sparked her confusion. She sat on the edge of her bed before standing and peering outside.

Stan was in her front yard, tossing small rocks and pebbles at her window pane, wearing a goofy, excited grin. Throwing up the window she leaned out. "Stan! What the hell are you doing?"

"I came to see you, Wendy! You left in such a rush I didn't get to-"

"Alright, alright," she said hastily, "I'm coming down." She then shut the window and in a few minutes appeared out her front door, pulling her arms around her nervously. "What do you want?"

Stan silenced her with a kiss so fiery and spontaneous she felt her knees weakening, but she finally managed to grunt and pull away. "Stan," she said protestingly.

"Ssh..." he whispered, placing a finger on her lips. He reached in his pocket and pulled out something wrapped in a plastic bag. Wendy eyed it with interest, wondering what he was going to do with it. He opened it and pulled out something slightly large and bulky, but it was hard for Wendy to see what it was in the dark. He gingerly took her hand in his and slipped the object on her finger and kissed her hand. "It's grape. Your favorite." He grinned cutely, and brought her hand closer to her face so she could see what it was. It was a large, purple Ring Pop, grape flavored as Stan told her.

"I wanted to buy you something nice but unfortunately I'm broke."

She stared at the cheesy yet sweet gift for a moment before looking back at him with sad eyes. "Stan, thank you. I love ring pops."

"I know," he said proudly, nodding. He then put an arm around her waist and pulld her close to him, planting a small peck on her forehead. "Wendy, what you said tonight was utterly, and completely, amazing. I never thought that I'd hear those words from you, it was almost as if, as Kyle or Tweek would say, the Armageddon was fastly approaching." His voice was deep and husky as he gazed into her eyes. He was one of those people that believed the eyes were the windows to the soul, and he stared so intensely into hers as if he were reading every thought of whimsy of Wendy's soul."Those butterflies you mentioned, Wendy...those damn butterflies plague me every damn day and night, but it's the most amazing sickness I have ever felt."

Her eyes continued to grow sadder and sadder with every soft word spoken, until a single tear fell from her eyes and traced a dizzying line on her cheek.

"Wendy," he continued, grabbing both of her hands and bringing them to his chest, "I want you to be mine." He knew perfectly well that what he had said was so extremely cheesy, so extremely cliche, that he ran the risk of running her off, but he felt that his previous speech would make up for it.

"Oh Stan," she sobbed, "I- I can't."

The small, charming, lop-sided grin that made him famous among the girls quickly vanished. "What? What do you mean, you can't?"

She cried harder, her eyes growing sore from the excessive amount ofuse they had received that day. "Stan, you make me feel like a better person, like the person I know I should be. But, I just don't know. I don't know if I'm ready for this person yet. I mean, it was so sudden, and, and I," she found herself unable to form coherant sentences as Stan released her hands and took a step back.

"Wendy, I, I...Didn't we just confess to each other how we felt about each other? If I make you feel like a better person, wouldn't it make sense if-"

"No, Stan, no, please, I- I don't need this right now...Stan, I'm so sorry...just, not yet..."

"Wendy, please," He begged, his own tears littering his face as he stared at her with pleading and heartbroken eyes. "Please Wendy...do it for the butterflies."

A/N: This...this was...in one word...draining. I have no opinion aboot it and yeah...whoops. It's my longest chapterso I expect lots of reviews!