Girl Trouble

This fic has been in my head for a while, but I haven't gotten around to writing it till now (thank you Revenge Au Trois!), and its still kind of a work in progress, so please don't slate it too much!

I don't any of South Park, at all.

Chapter 1

The party was hot, the music was pumping, but Stan Marsh was all alone. He sighed, looking at the door, and began to walk towards it, but a thought stopped him in his tracks.

No.

Why should he leave? He could enjoy himself alone. He didn't need her to be able to have fun.

He turned and picked his way back through the house. It was crowded, and there were quite a few people that Stan didn't know. Clyde probably hadn't anticipated just how many people would actually turn up when he organised this party. It was always the same, though: someone would decide to throw a party and invite a "select" few people. Those people would tell their friends, who would then tell theirfriends, and before you knew it, your house was full of teenagers from South Park, and most of North and Middle Park as well. A houseful of drunk teenagers and only one toilet was always a recipe for disaster, as Stan knew all too well.

Stan made his way into the kitchen to get a drink, stepping carefully over a boy who was slumped in the doorway. Clyde Donovan sat at the kitchen table, his head resting on his crossed arms. He was surrounded by cups and bottles of varying amounts of beers and spirits. Stan nudged him as he grabbed an empty cup.

"Clyde?"

"Ngghrr."

He chuckled as he poured himself a beer. Clyde was going to have some serious regrets in the morning, like ever agreeing to have this party in the first place.

He left Clyde to his stupor and wandered back into the hallway, looking for someone – anyone – that he knew. Just as he was starting to despair of finding anyone from South Park, two of his friends, Kenny McCormick and Eric Cartman, came out of the dining room, talking animatedly. They caught sight of the lonely looking Stan and made their way over to him, grinning.

"Where is she, then?" Cartman asked, looking around.

"Who?"

"That ho you call your girlfriend."

"Wendy isn't here," Stan said, just as someone turned the music up to earthquake levels.

"What?!" Cartman shouted.

"I said: Wendy isn't here!" Stan shouted back.

"And she let you come on your own?" Cartman asked incredulously.

"We do do things separately, y'know!"

"Stan, she doesn't even let you go to the bathroom on your own!"

"What did you guys fall out about this time?" Kenny asked in a weary voice. He didn't really know why he ever bothered asking about Stan and Wendy's arguments. They were nearly always about pointless, banal things that only Stan and Wendy would fight about, such as Stan's manky old trainers, or Stan not wearing the new shirt Wendy had bought him. Despite all this, Kenny had decided it was better to feign interest, rather than show none at all.

"Wendy wanted to stay in and watch a DVD tonight," Stan replied. "She said she wanted us to have some proper 'couple time'."

Cartman snorted.

"We had a fight, and in the end I said fine, I'll come on my own!" Stan said animatedly. "And you know what, I don't regret it at all, I'm having a great time. Screw Wendy." He nodded along as Lady GaGa shook the house to its foundations, while Kenny and Cartman smiled knowingly at each other, both starting a slow countdown in their heads.

"Do you think I should call her?" Stan blurted out suddenly, just as Cartman and Kenny had both reached 7.

"No way man. Let her apologise first for once!" Kenny said.

"Yeah, let the bitch come to you!" Cartman added helpfully.

They sipped their drinks in silence for a while.

"So, what's going on with Kyle?" Cartman asked casually.

The other two stared at him, non-plussed. "What about Kyle?" Stan asked.

"Have you seen him in there with that Goth mutt?" Cartman asked, nodding toward the lounge. "What's that about?"

Stan popped his head round the lounge doorway and soon spied his red headed best friend sitting on the sofa with the Goth "mutt" Henrietta. They were deep in conversation, their heads bent so close together they were almost touching. They were completely oblivious to everything, including a couple sitting next to them making out as though it was their last day on earth.

"So are they going out or what?" Cartman asked when Stan popped his head back. "Cause that would be so incredibly lame."

"How the hell should I know?" Stan asked. "They're just sitting there talking."

"So they might be dating?"

"I don't know!" Stan said, exasperated. "Why don't you go and ask if you're so interested!"

"Why would I wanna do that?" Cartman said, mortified. "I don't even fucking care!" He exhaled deeply. "What do you think, Kenny?"

Kenny didn't answer; instead he smiled at something that had clearly caught his attention. Stan followed his eyeline and saw a couple of cute blonde girls smiling back.

"Stand back guys," Kenny said with a wicked grin. "Kenny's goin' to work!"

"I'll back you up, bud!" Cartman said breathlessly, his eyes almost out on stalks at the sight of the two scantily dressed girls.

"Dude, what's with you?" Stan asked. "You've been hitting on every girl in South Park lately."

"Are you saying I'm desperate?" Cartman asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Dude, there's desperate, then there's you!" Kenny remarked caustically.

"What's wrong with wanting some fucking pussy?" Cartman shouted, just as the music was turned down to a more acceptable level.

Kings Of Leon's Sex On Fire was the only sound as everyone within hearing range stopped what they were doing to stare at Cartman. The two girls stared at the hapless Kenny and Cartman and stormed off.

"Jesus Christ Cartman, you're like kryptonite!" Kenny said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"It's not my fault!" Cartman said defensively. "Bitches!"

Stan chuckled. "I'm gonna get another drink. You guys want one?"

"I will, since it looks like I'm going home alone tonight!" Kenny said, glaring at Cartman.

"Oh whatever, Kenny!" Cartman said, rolling his eyes. "This party sucks anyway. Screw you guys, I am going home!"

He shoved past them and made his way to the front door, kicking out at anyone who was unfortunate enough to block his path. He stomped out, slamming the door behind him.

"Dumbass!" Stan said. He turned back to Kenny. "Do you want another beer?"

"Make it a whisky and I promise not to mention girls for the rest of the night!" Kenny said.

"You're on!"

Stan moved back through the crowded hallway, trying to excuse himself past people as politely as he could. When that failed, he used the Cartman method and took a few kicks at some nicely positioned backsides.

He had almost reached the kitchen when a girl stumbled out and fell into his arms, spilling her drink all over his brand new shirt. She gazed up at him with big, unfocused brown eyes.

"Hi!" she said, giggling.

She had long straggly blonde hair and wore a tiny black halterneck dress, which was in serious danger of spilling its contents. Stan smiled uneasily at her.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I am now!" the girl replied, laying her head on his chest. She slipped her arms more comfortably around his waist.

Stan removed her arms and grabbed onto her as she swayed dangerously. She stared at him, bemused.

"I don't feel ver' well," she said uncertainly.

Stan sighed. "Okay, come on. Lets find you someplace to sit down."

He took her by the shoulders and guided her back through the crowded hallway, ignoring Kenny's enquiring look. They went through the dining room and out into the back garden, where there were a couple of lawnchairs and an overturned table. Stan sat the girl in one of the chairs and took the other. He breathed in the cool Colorado air and listened to the music throbbing against the wall of the house.

"Feeling better?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Yeah, thanks," she replied, smiling at him in a drunk way that she obviously thought was seductive.

Stan began to feel uneasy again. "Okay then," he said, standing up. "I'd better, y'know, get back to my friend."

"No wait, don't go!" the girl cried, stumbling to her feet. Trying desperately to regain her balance she tripped over her high heels and fell headlong into Stan, knocking them both back into the lawnchair. Before a surprised Stan had time to react, she had settled herself on his lap and started nuzzling his neck.

"You're hot!" she slurred in his ear.

"Oh Jesus!" Stan said, struggling vainly underneath her. "This isn't what you think, okay? I wasn't trying to…oh god," he groaned as her hand slid down into his jeans, "this can't happen, I've got a gir – "

He was cut off by the sozzled girl clamping her lips firmly over his. He put his hands on her shoulders, trying to push her off him as her tongue, which tasted of a mixture of whisky and cigarettes, flicked around inside his mouth, exploring every crevice. Eventually she pulled out of the enforced kiss and sat giggling as Stan held her at arms length. He pulled a face as the taste of her lingered on his lips and looked around desperately for help as she moved in on him again. He heard the patio door open and sighed with relief.

"Oh thank god…" his voice trailed off and his eyes widened with horror as he saw the face of his rescuer. "Wendy!"

I just love a little cliffhanger! I'm mean to Stan, I know but there's a lot more to come.

Chapter 2 up soon…