My fanfiction was called beautiful! *_* In my opinion, it's one of the highest praises a critic can give an author. Thanks, dude! *sniffle*

This is entirely a Wendy and Cartman chapter, chronicling their date together. I'm not sure how people will take this, because it's pretty calm. I feel like when we're talking about Wendy and Cartman, their relationship will be slow going because it will be so difficult for Wendy to admit to herself how she feels. The chapter is sort of short, it's like the second part of chapter 5. It's pretty much a character development chapter, so don't expect too many big developments. Wendy may seem a little bipolar, but I think she's totally like that in the show so it's pretty in characters. I'm still deciding how exactly their romance will go, who will do what first, blah blah blah. Just sit tight. Reviews are good. :)

Wendy was putting the finishing touches on her make-up when the doorbell rang. With her parents out on a date of their own, she was the only one home. She yelled, "COMING!" and took a last look in the mirror, making sure she looked glamorous. The doorbell rang a second time, followed by a series of impatient, successive rings. Wendy rolled her eyes.

Typical.

She glanced at the clock on her phone as she descended the stairs. Eight o'clock exactly.

She opened the door a bit cautiously, and was almost surprised to find a very put-together Cartman standing on the steps. He was straightening his tie when she opened the door, and his green shirt looked nice against his cocoa eyes. Wendy smelt the subtle waft of cologne.

Cartman's eyes widened a little once he saw her outfit; Wendy wasn't wearing a scandalous outfit, but her flowing blue blouse complemented her features nicely. She knew she looked stunning, especially when she'd gone the extra mile with her blush and eye shadow. Though she wondered if he was turned off by the fact that she was wearing dress pants rather than a skirt.

Cartman cleared his throat, straightening his posture and melodramatically looking at his watch.

"It is officially eight oh one. Wendeh, I am very disappointed that you were not waiting at the door for your date. Wherever the hell we're going."

Wendy shot him a look of obvious disapproval.

"Didn't I say no swearing, Cartman?"

"Ugh, hell doesn't count!" he groaned. "It's a fu—frikin' place! Give me a break…"

Wendy rolled her eyes and waved her hand at him, implying that he should drop it.

"Let's go, we'll be late for our reservations," she said, and made her way to Cartman's car after locking the front door of her house. Or rather, his mother's car; the blue van stood still-running in her driveway.

Wendy could almost feel Cartman's pain at being told what to do like this. Fuck, he could never bear it when he was being bossed around. Whether he could stand it or not would be a true test of affection.

Come to think of it, had the idiot ever even said anything about liking her?

Cartman grumbled, leaning his head in his hand while his other hand fiddled with his straw. He'd ordered a cola but he'd hardly touched it. In fact, for a kid with a reputation for gluttony, Wendy thought that he wasn't eating much at all. And she had even been nice enough to bring him to Sizzler so he could get himself some steak.

Most or all of her conversation topics had fallen flat. Cartman had been reluctant to answer, and he was hardly making an effort to come up with any on her own. It was like he was unable to function without making a racist joke every couple of minutes.

If she had to honest, Wendy would admit that her motives for the date were anything but pure. She had planned to merely taunt him all night, swearing herself and making comments he wouldn't have been able to defend against if he were abiding by the rules. Of course, it was never her expectation that he would stay true to her stipulations. Wendy had predicted an outbreak of cusses and slurs against hippies on the first half-hour. And right after he burst? She'd be able to tease and torment him all she wanted.

But she hadn't had any luck provoking him at all. She would have sincerely felt bad had she launched into a stream of insults after Cartman had done nothing wrong. Though, his silence and mumbling were nearly as annoying as his usual, insulting comments. Not in the same way, however; it was getting on her nerves to have him not making comments, if that made any sense.

Finally, Wendy had had enough. After finishing her meal of fish and chips, she sighed and decided to ask Cartman a personal question. If she asked him this, and it was something she wanted to know, he wouldn't be able to brush it off like he had when she'd asked him what he thought of world current events. Maybe she'd even get the truth out of him. Pfft.

"Cartman, why are you such a fucking asshole all the time?"

Cartman's face contorted with frustration as he picked his head up suddenly and leaned forwards on the table. He looked furiously at her, almost disbelieving that she would have the gall to say such a thing. His moping had been instantly transformed into rage. Wendy was somehow happy about this.

"What the fuck, ho? I bring you out to a nice fucking dinner, and you think that gives you the right to talk shit to me?" he shouted, taking his napkin off his lap and throwing it on the table. "I don't give a flying fuck whether you leave or not, I'm swearing all I want. Good luck getting home without a car ride." He sneered and tried looking defiant, but it was clear that he wasn't going to get up and leave. He was obviously waiting for her response.

Wendy was careful to be extremely gentle with what she said next. Over the years, she'd had a lot of conflicting feelings about Cartman, but curiosity was always a constant. He wasn't like anyone else she had ever met, for better or for worse. Either way, if she wanted to know anything about Eric Cartman, this was probably going to be her only chance to ask it. Since there wouldn't be a second date, of course.

"I wasn't talking about just the date. I'm talking about, like, in life. All the time. I see you sometimes, and you look surprised when people refuse to talk to you or pay attention to you. But why shouldn't they? You're such an ass to everyone all the time. I want to know why you act that way."

Cartman looked her straight in the eye. He took a while to answer; Wendy presumed he was fabricating a sob-story about not having a father. The exchange that followed caught her off guard.

"It's not fair," Cartman stated bluntly, his voice devoid of sarcasm. Wendy snorted.

"What, you mean life? You think you can be a jerk to people because life isn't fair?" she questioned, laughing cynically and rolling her eyes.

Cartman's face remained stoic. He didn't even acknowledge her skepticism.

"No. Not that. You know how everybody says that you should just be yourself? That it's wrong to pretend to be someone else? I happen to take that to heart."

He paused, observing her reaction. Wendy quieted down. She hadn't realized she was getting Cartman to pour his heart out, but the look on his face suggested otherwise. The rarity of such a situation caused Wendy to give it her full attention. Cartman cleared his throat and continued.

"But it isn't fair, because I do act like myself, all the time. I may not be as confident as I was before, but I am a naturally confident person. I'm also, by nature, an utter asshole. I like to make fun of people, and I am a racist and a sexist and all that other shit. But I'm being myself, so I should be happy and everyone should accept me for who I am. That's what they teach people to do at school, from since they're in fucking kindergarten. But people don't understand that not everybody is a damn saint on the inside. And they want something that I can't give them; they want me to be nice to people and not call them names or fuck with them. So they want something I can't give them without sacrificing my identity. That's not fucking fair at all. What a double standard."

Wendy was silent for a moment, studying Cartman's features. She took a deep breath and thought about this before responding.

"Why did you tell me this?" she said quietly, and the pair's eyes met once again.

Suddenly, Cartman reverted to his familiar self. He crossed his thick arms and his brown eyes narrowed, showing the same old cruel stare he's always had. His lips curled into a smirk.

"Bitches can't resist a tormented man," he scoffed, taunting her and enjoying it. "Besides, now that you're emotionally invested, I know you won't be able to turn away. It'd be like kicking an injured puppy, and because you're both a hippie AND a woman, I'm now impossible to refuse."

Wendy was starting to get annoyed again, but she wasn't going to let Cartman's previous burst of emotions go without mention. She honestly believed she could connect with him. She was a hippie, after all, so she went for all this emotional crap.

But, like always with Cartman, there was something still off about the entire situation. Not just his touchy-feely attitude a moment before.

"Eric, what's the reason you really wanted to go out with me?" she said. He hadn't made any advances. He'd given her flowers and tried to act 'suave', but he was doing it all like steps in a process. And she seriously doubted that Eric Cartman, the guy who desperately wanted to maintain a visage of supreme confidence, would let his guard down in front of the girl he was infatuated with.

But he was one hundred percent back to his old self again, reluctant to give anything away about himself. It was like his sadism was a huge wall covering up all of his issues.

He smiled slyly, and she knew she'd been the one to get caught in a trap. He was right; she couldn't walk away from him anymore. She wasn't sure if he'd let her in again, but he had done so once, and it had the desired effect. Cartman had her right where he wanted her.

"Maybe I'll save that for the second date," he teased.

Wendy thought that he might actually have succeeded in acting suave tonight.

He wiped his face on his napkin and, without another word, stood up to leave. He stood at the front door, and looked back at her, motioning her to follow. She stood up to run after him, lots of thoughts about how she would get through to him filling her head. He was like a new challenge, and Wendy loved a challenge. As she began to leave, she heard their waiter clear his throat.

Of course, Cartman had left Wendy with the bill.

Typical.