Author's Note: I would assume that Kyle has had to suffer through a million projects with Cartman as his partner. Alphabetical order, you see. On a more technical note, this is the first of twelve drabbles, prompted by randomly generated words. This is like, my favorite pairing freaking ever, so I'm super excited about starting this. Reviews are love, btw. Its hard to keep working on something when you don't really know what the response is. Anyway, here you go, and enjoy!
Lianne's always liked Kyle Brovlofski. When he was little, all big green eyes and even bigger hair, he'd tear around her house like a firecracker, leaping over the furniture, wrestling with her son and their two friends. Wild, certainly, but he'd be the only one of them to come to a screeching halt on the kitchen linoleum and tug at the hem of her dress, asking if she needed help with the dishes.
His only fault was that he fought with Eric.
They were both seventeen now, much too old for this kind of behavior, and she really had no idea what on earth they have to argue about. Eric's just like Kyle: intelligent, caring, kind; there's no reason why they shouldn't get along.
"Fuck you, Jew!"
Footsteps thud down the stairs, and she peers out of the kitchen in time to see Eric blocking the front door, arms crossed over his chest. Kyle stands a few inches away, fists trembling at his sides. "Cartman, move your fat ass."
"No way, douche. I'm not doing this goddamn project by myself." Eric intercepts Kyle as he goes for the doorknob, grabbing his wrist. "And if you weren't being such a pussy, we'd be finished by now."
"Well, that's just too fucking bad, isn't it?" Kyle tries unsuccessfully to pull out of Eric's grip. "All I know is I'm not doing a ten-minute presentation on why Joseph Stalin was, and I quote, 'the shit'."
Kyle's eyes narrow, and Lianne can see her son's fingers leaving red marks on his skin. "Whatever. I don't know why I ever expect anything even approaching decency out of you."
There's a silence as they stare one another down.
"Get out of the way, Cartman."
Eric sighs mockingly. "You're breaking my balls here, Kyle-"
"Fine." Eric gives Kyle's arm a final twist, then steps aside.
"Thanks for having me over, Mrs. Cartman," the other boy says loudly, and, with one last glare at Eric, shuts the door behind him.
Lianne retreats back to the sink, the potato she was peeling heavy in her hand. Those two. She wishes she could tell them to be nicer to one another, but Kyle has no obligation to obey her, and her son would probably just laugh in her face.
No one tells Eric Cartman what to do.
An image of a pair of furious green eyes surfaces in her mind, and a tiny smile flickers across her face.
Well, no one except Kyle Brovlofski.
Review, my duckies. Perhaps then an update will come sooner rather than later.