Soooo, I decided to start another one. Well, its really just a small scene I thought of. I guess review and let me know if I should go on. Its an odd pairing and if it does develop into more chapters, I'm hoping to expand the pairings. But I like this as is, or with more, so its up to you guys~

It all started when Stan Marsh walked into Howie's Diner just as the days were changing. Stan checked his watch as he walked in, watching the small abbreviation for Tuesday turn to Wednesday. Stan had a lot on his mind and was hoping to ease his thoughts with something new.

Stan took a seat at one of the bar seats. South Park was never a late night town, so there were very little people in the diner. The workers, and old man reading the newspaper, and another old man trying to eat his napkin were the only ones that occupied the room. Stan took the menu off of the metal holder that also housed the ketchup and mustard bottles, along with the salt and pepper. Stan scanned the beverage section for the word he's been thinking of since this morning in first period science.

Coffee.

"Hi Sugar, what'll it be?" A woman with the name tag 'Flo' walked behind the bar. Stan could smell the cigarette smoke on her breath, but it was mixed with something else. "Aren't you a little young to be out this late? There's a curfew ya know."

"I just turned 18 Ma'am." Stan said trying not to sound annoyed. Of course he was too young to be out especially on a school night, but he puffed his chest out a little further like his coaches taught him to do when they were walking onto the field at other schools. Show them you should be there.

Flo didn't seem to care. "What are ya having, hun?"

Stan looked down at the menu once again. He had no idea there were so many different types of coffee. Some looked like they were in a different language, others looked English, but like words he's never heard of before. What was decaf?

"Can ya read, hun? Do I need to help you out?" Once Flo's words began coming out more properly Stan knew she was getting aggravated. He's panicking.

"I'll just have a cup of coffee, please."

Flo looked at Stan for a minute. It was as if she was expecting something else. Stan blankly looked back at her. She rolled her eyes quickly, then walked away, stuffing the menu back in the metal holder where Stan picked it up from.

Stan felt his body slouch as his audience left and tried to collect his thoughts. Stan hadn't thought of coffee since the boys were forced to do a project with Tweek in the third grade. Its funny that after all of these years, it was Tweek again that made him want to give coffee another shot.

Everyday since the beginning of the school year Stan has watched Tweek Tweek walk into Chem lab 2 with a giant sized cup of coffee. Correction, he would watch Tweek attempt to bring in his giant sized cup of coffee. Everyday, Mr. Snip would stop him and tell him the rule, "No drinks in the labs."

Stan would then watch as Tweek would down the whole cup of coffee and throw the cup in the garbage. It wasn't until week two that Stan noticed Tweek would come in with shaky hands, almost spilling his coffee until Mr. Snip stopped him in the doorway. After he would finish the cup, Stan noticed he would roll his neck, then his shoulders back and do this kind of body roll that seemed to relax his whole body.

How could Tweek finish a whole cup of coffee and somehow that calm him down? When they were little Tweek was constantly twitching and everyone blamed the coffee, so how did the coffee reverse this?

"Here ya go, hun." Flo came back carrying a cup of coffee and a small dish that held other little packets.

"Thank you." Before Stan could ask what the little packets were for, Flo was gone.

Stan stared at the cup for a while, watching the steam come off the liquid. The cup was much smaller than the ones that Tweek carried with him, but Stan figured starting small would probably be the best bet. Tweek has had years to build his tolerance.

Stan took the spoon sitting in the dish with the packets and began to stir the coffee. 'Maybe there's something at the bottom I have to stir up' Stan thought to himself. Once the steam seemed to be floating up less often Stan lifted the cup to his lips and tried it.

"Oh my god." The taste was bitter and stale. Not to mention scalding hot still. How could Tweek down this? Stan pushed the cup and silently thanked the empty diner since he was sure he looked like a little kid refusing to eat his vegetables.

Just as he was about to give up and leave a five, hoping that would cover the cup and a tip he heard a familiar voice.

"Marsh?"

Stan looked up to see a face that could be his twin.

"Craig? What are you doing here?" Stan immediately was embarrassed. How long had Craig been there? Did he witness the whole thing?

Craig was wiping his hands off with a towel while he pointed to his name tag. It, of course, said 'Craig.' Stan noticed that he no longer wore his chullo hat, but instead a hair net and had an apron tied around his waist.

"The question is, what are you doing here?" Craig pulled a chair from what seemed like out of nowhere and sat across from Stan at the bar. He also pulled an ashtray out of no where and lit a cigarette.

"You work here? Since when, and why so late?"

Stan watched as Craig let the smoke play on his lips before throwing it to the open air. "I've been working here since I turned 18, and I work late because that's the only shift I can. Are you going to answer my question now?"

Stan stared at Craig. His expression never changed. Of course, this was something that never changed with Craig. Over the years the two boys and their groups have always kept a steady rivalry without making a scene. It would always be someone from Stan's group getting nominated for whatever position was needed going up against one of Craig's. What Stan failed to connect was the Tweek Tweek was Craig's best friend. His super best friend at that.

"I'm… having some coffee." Stan motioned towards his cup.

Craig threw off his hair net and stood from his stool. Stan watched as Craig walked to the counter where Flo had once disappeared to and brought and brought a thermos out as well as another cup.

"Just in time for my break, I needed the company, and it looks like you do too, Marsh." Craig said, trying to keep his cigarette in his mouth without losing the ashes.

Stan felt rude saying no, since this definitely seemed to be Craig's territory. Instead Stan just stirred his coffee some more.

Craig put out his cigarette an lit another one. "Doesn't seem like you're enjoying the coffee or my company. Care to share?" Craig pointed to the small bowl with the packets still piled high.

"Go ahead…" Stan pushed the bowl over and watched as Craig picked a number of square packets and packed them, tearing off the ends at the same time and poured what Stan finally figured was sugar. He then watched Craig grab two little cups labeled creamer and pour it in as well. Stan didn't want to look like an idiot reading the labels of the packets, but realized he looked like an idiot staring amazingly at Craig and his coffee changing colors before his eyes.

Craig could feel the eyes on him as stirred the contents in changing his black coffee to a caramel color. He took a sip and although it burned his tongue, showed no emotion. Of course.

"Not much of a coffee drinker are ya, Marsh. Why the need to try it now?" Craig continued to alternate between his cigarette and his coffee while he watched Stan squirm uncomfortably in his seat.

Stan was conflicted. He can't just come out with 'Oh well I've been watching you best friend since the beginning of the school year and I wanted to feel what it was like to feel what he does.' That sounded gay. What sounded even more gay was that Stan wanted to add 'and because Tweek's body moves like liquid after he finishes his coffee and he was hoping he could…' no, way too gay.

Stan's thoughts were interrupted when he heard Craig snort and pull Stan's cup towards him. He watched as Craig poured the same amount of each packet into his own cup and stirred it for him. Tasting it before sliding it back to him.

Stan tried the coffee and felt immediate joy. It was so much sweeter, and smooth.

"So where's Witch Wendy at tonight?"

"I haven't dated her in years."

"Show how much I pay attention. Not your type, Marsh?"

"I guess not, no." Stan definitely felt like Craig was searching for something.

"Don't like Brunettes, huh Marsh?"

Stan looked up from his cup to see Craig's eyes staring right into his.

"No, I don't."

"Yea, I figured. Kyle being a ginger and all. I was never one for ginger's, but to each their own I guess. So tell me, do the carpets match the drapes?"

Stan tried not to falter his stare. He knew Craig was just trying to get him to confess he was gay, or that he loved Kyle or something. Every question Craig threw at him got more and more sly and undertoned with wit. Stan didn't want to simply argue with Craig, he wanted to shut Craig up, make him think and choke on words for a change.

"I like Blondes."

Stan expected Craig's smirk to fade but instead it seemed to bury deeper in his face, making it that much more shattering to Stan's ego. Craig put out his third cigarette and downed the last but of his coffee and readjusted his hair net. He stood and poured the ashes in the small trash behind the bar and slid the thermos over to Stan.

"That's what I thought."