Chapter Text
“So I have good news and bad news,” Kenny says, carrying a box of coffee supplies into the lunchroom.
Stan stirs the last almond milk creamer into his coffee and raises a curious brow. Instead of Receptionist, Kenny should change his position title to Gossip Queen. “Oh boy. The last time you had good news, it was you tested negative for herpes.”
“Which, let’s be honest, is great news for all of us.”
“Right.” Stan scoffs, amused. “Because you jerk off in our coffee every morning.”
Kenny sniffs a new bag of Harbucks coffee and sighs exaggeratedly. “Certified fairly traded and herpes-free Colombian roast. It’s almost as good as sex.”
“God, you're disgusting.” In spite of their conversation, Stan sips his coffee. He plucks one creamer out of the pile that Kenny just restocked and shakes it. “So what's the news then? Spit it out.”
“Please, Stan, I always swallow,” Kenny replies without missing a beat, and Stan rolls his eyes so hard he can see his brain. “The good news is when you get back to your desk, you're gonna find a meeting invite from Victoria.”
In Stan’s experience and opinion, no one in the history of time and space is excited when management calls them in for a meeting. “I think you flipped the good and the bad news around. What does Victoria want with me?”
“Your team just lost its supervisor,” Kenny reminds slyly. “And you don’t have a manager either.”
“Pete’s taking a few weeks off and Wendy’s coming back soon.” Stan shakes his head and colors the coffee a lighter shade of brown with the creamer. “Besides, if anyone's gonna get promoted, it would probably be Token. Or Craig. They've been here longer.”
“But everyone likes you better.”
Stan dismisses Kenny with a shrug. Popularity has nothing to do with who’s earned it. “What’s the bad news?”
Kenny rearranges the tea bags without looking at Stan. For a jokester, his tone is atypically serious. “Rumor has it, Corporate is sending a division specialist here.”
“Shit.”
“I know. I heard things are bad, but not division specialist bad.” Kenny pours himself a cup of coffee and restarts the brewer. “Maybe you should start brushing up on your resume. I heard SPC is hiring.”
“Dude, it might not be as bad as we think.”
“I’m just giving you a head-up.” Kenny points to his headset to indicate he has a call. As he walks out to the main office, he pats Stan on the shoulder. “Good morning, it’s a beautiful day at HOE. How may I direct your call?”
Stan follows Kenny out after dumping a packet of sugar into his coffee. When he settles in and checks his emails, there is, indeed, the meeting invite Kenny forewarned him. A glance to the clock tells him he has roughly 15 minutes to mentally prepare before the 9:30 meeting. Not that there is any way for him to feel prepared. Despite what he told Kenny, he knows for a fact Corporate doesn’t send specialists out unless a branch office is doing very poorly. From what he’s heard, most offices undergo a regime change, if not shut down completely when a specialist pays a visit. The South Park branch may not be the best when it comes to performance, but Stan likes it here. He’d hate to lose all that.
At 9:25, Stan stops everything he’s doing and gets up with a swallowed sigh. He straightens his tie, runs a hand to fix his hair, and walks through the aisle of cubicles toward the staircase. Cartman leans out of his chair as Stan walks past behind him and calls out, “Dead man walking.”
Stan bumps into Bebe coming down the stairs with a box of stationery and other supplies. She bats Stan a scathing smirk. “Tell Kenny to put in an order for lube ‘cause we’re all about to get fucked in the ass.” Without giving Stan the chance to reply (not that Stan can think of anything to say), Bebe moves on down the stairs and Stan keeps going up.
Upstairs is a completely different environment. Even the air feels stiffer here. Victoria doesn’t call him into her office until 9:45. The worry lines are prominent on her face even with the make-up she caked on, though Stan thinks that’s an expected characteristic of a regional director. Mackey, the HR manager, fiddles with his pen in one of the chairs.
This is starting to feel like a death sentence than the good news Kenny misled him to believe.
“Marsh, good to see you. Please, have a seat.” Victoria places her clasped hands on her desk with a practiced smile. “We have some news. Senior management has approved to send in someone to oversee our operations for a couple months.”
“I see,” Stan says, trying to act surprised but not too suspiciously surprised.
Victoria pushes her glasses up and lies through her teeth. “It’s nothing out of the ordinary. Senior management is evaluating the branch offices and seeing where they can use improvement. The division specialist is here to increase our efficiency.”
Stan nods. He still isn’t sure how he fits into the picture.
Mackey clears his throat at Victoria’s cued glance and says, “Stanley, this is a critical time for our branch, m’kay. With Wendy on her sabbatical and Pete on medical leave, someone needs to step up and leads your team, m’kay. Management here agrees it should be you.”
To his own surprise, Stan doesn’t feel as excited about the promotion as he thinks he’s supposed to feel. The fixed smile on Victoria’s face and Mackey’s shying glance both hide an ulterior motive.
“Congratulations. As of right now, you’re officially promoted to Team Leader.” Victoria’s tone borders on a threat as she goes on, “We have a lot riding on you, Marsh, but I’m sure you won’t let us down.”
Stan doesn’t get the chance to reject the offer or ask more questions before Victoria sends both of them away to take a private phone call. Not that it matters, he guesses; from the looks of things, it’s not like he has a choice. Mackey walks out with Stan and fills him in on the rest of the details.
“Management chose you because we think you’ve earned it the most, m’kay.”
“It’s an honor,” Stan says what he’s supposed to say. “I appreciate the support.”
“Well, now, it’s more than that, m’kay. The sales department is the core of our operations so we want you to work close with the specialist. Show him how we do things here, m’kay. He’ll be here Wednesday morning. Bebe is setting up Gary’s old office for him.” Mackey walks Stan to the room that’s been left empty since its previous occupant quit. He looks at Stan with an expectant smile. “I hope you’ll get along nicely with him, m’kay, Stanley.”
“I don’t think we’ll have a problem.” Stan feels like he’s back in fourth grade and promising the teacher he’ll be nice to the new kid.
“Alright, back to work then. It’s going to be a very interesting three months, m’kay.”
As soon as Stan gets back to his desk, Kenny comes over with a party horn and blows it in his face. Stan groans and swats his hand at Kenny to make him stop. Clyde glances at them through the frosted cubicle glass then back at his screen.
“I told you it was good news,” Kenny says, sitting on a folder atop Stan’s desk. He spins the party horn, his shit-eating grin sombering up a little. “... So is it true?”
“It’s true,” Stan answers grimly, moving his mouse to wake his computer. “He’s coming Wednesday and I’m supposed to show him around.”
“It’s a guy?” Kenny slips on a curious smirk. “I call dibs if he’s hot.”
“Can you not think about your dick for once?” Stan snatches the party horn out of Kenny’s hand. “Weren’t you the one worried we’re all gonna be out of a job soon?”
“Yeah, more reason to bang him before he fires us.” Kenny winks then sashays back to his desk.
By lunch time, the only thing the floor is talking about is the division specialist and what it means for the branch. The ones who didn’t go out for lunch huddle together at the rectangular table like a group of gossipy teenagers.
“I heard he got the IT su-su-supervisor in Salt Lake fired because the guy was playing Ga-ga-ga-laga. I mean - c’mon!” Jimmy says.
Bradley nods then adds, “I heard this senior accountant in Cleveland got put on no-paid leave for two weeks because she wore a skirt he didn’t like.”
“I heard he’s the one that got Jersey shut down. 40 people lost their job because of him,” Clyde says in between bites of his tacos.
Token furrows his brows. “I thought that was because they found cocaine in the storage room.”
“I thought it was a meth lab.” Scott glances left and right for confirmation.
“Who cares what it was?” Clyde wipes his thumb over his mouth. “No one would’ve known if he didn’t rat them out. Broflovski is trouble.”
“They had drugs in the office,” Stan chimes in as he reaches for his share of the tacos. “Someone was gonna find out eventually.”
“What if he doesn’t - gah - like my hair?” Tweek, one caffeine molecule away from a heart attack, asks, standing next the coffee machine. “What if he makes me shave it? I can’t go bald. I’ll look ridiculous. Gaahhh - I’d rather get fired!”
“Aww hamburgers,” Butters mumbles nervously. “My parents are gonna be so sore with me if I get fired.”
“It’s just rumors,” Stan dismisses with a headshake. “Don’t let them get to your head.”
“Your soon-to-be bald head,” Clyde jokes and Tweek anxiously pulls his hair.
“Stan’s right,” Cartman says. Immediately Stan knows he’s up to something; Cartman never agrees with him on anything. “You guys are not focusing on the real issue here.”
“Which is?” Jason asks.
With the room’s attention on him, Cartman leans forward with a somber expression. He closes his eyes, exhales quietly, then look at the group. “I heard… he’s a ginger.”
Craig is the first one to pull back with an unimpressed face. “So?”
“So? So? Gingers have no soul, Craig!” Cartman throws a hand up like how can anyone not know that. “We’re royally fucked. And that’s not even the worst of it…”
Once again, the team waits with anticipation of Cartman’s next shocking rumor about the incoming threat. Even Stan, despite himself, looks on with curiosity.
“Gah - I can’t stand listening to this. It’s way too - much! I have to get a haircut!” Tweek grabs the full pot of coffee, spilling a few drops as he leaves.
“What, Eric? What is it?” Butters squeezes his sandwich so hard the mayo oozes out.
“I heard Kyle Broflovski…” Cartman pauses for dramatic effect. “... is a Jew.”
Stan pinches his nose bridge and groans. “Cartman, you can’t say shit like that. It’s racist.”
“Oooh noooo, Mister Team Leader.” Cartman feigns a terrified look. “Please don’t report me to HR. I promise I’ll be good and sucks your balls really nice to make up for it.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, Stan can see the peeved look on Craig’s face at the mention of his newly appointed position. He expects it though it still turns his stomach. Even if he personally believes there are other people who are better suited for the job, Stan isn’t one to roll over and give up either. He’s been given the role and he’s going to work hard at it. Craig can suck his balls if he doesn’t like it.
“Is it bad that he’s a Jew?” Butters asks.
“Cartman’s full of shit,” Craig says.
“You wanna work under the regime of a soulless ginger greedy Jew, Craig? Huh? Do you?” Cartman smirks at Craig’s one-finger salute. “I didn’t think so.”
“Cartman! I’m serious. Cut that shit out,” Stan warns and gets him an eyeroll from Cartman. He turns to the team --- his team and says, “Look, guys, we’re all in this together, all right? We gotta pull ourselves together and show Corporate we’re valuable assets and fucking awesome. No one’s shutting down our office and no one’s getting fired.”
“That was lame,” Jason teases. “Did you rip that off a poster?”
“Well, I thought it was pretty cool,” Butters chirps. “I’m feelin’ pretty spirited, fellas.”
“Butters, you’re an intern. It won’t matter if you get fired,” Clyde says.
Cartman clears his throat. As the room quiets down, he looks at each of the people present one by one. “Mark my words, gentlemen. Kyle Broflovski is going to ruin our lives. I guarantee it.”
Stan rolls his eyes. Not if he can help it.
When Wednesday rolls around, Stan has done everything he can to whip the office into shape for Kyle Broflovski’s arrival. He’s 15 minutes early, hoping to get some more time for last-minute touches, but Kenny’s sly smirk tells him his plan is foiled. Broflovski has beaten him here.
“Shit! I thought he wasn’t coming in until nine,” Stan whispers with a timid glance to Harrison’s old office. Bebe is standing at the door and making conversation with the new occupant.
“Got here at 8:30 sharp. Said he wanted to get a jump start.” Kenny shoots a look at the office as well before he widens his grin at Stan. “I heard he’s a hardass but people should be talking about his sweet ass instead.”
“Dude.” Stan groans and leans on the receptionist desk. He still can’t see Kyle from this angle.
“His nose’s a little big, but sweet holy mother of God, I’d bang him.”
Stan pulls back, half amused and half disgusted. “You’d bang Jesus if you could.”
Kenny scoffs. “Um, have you seen Jesus? He’s totally shredded.”
“You know you’re going to Hell for that.”
“Already there, babe.” Kenny gestures Stan to get a move-on with a nod. “Go. Save our jobs by whatever means necessary.”
Reluctantly and not feeling any of confidence he’s been instilling in himself for the past two days, Stan drops his stuff off at his desk then wakes his computer up. All the while, he keeps an eye on the office. Bebe is blocking the view in and droning on and on. He hopes she isn't throwing everyone under the bus to save her own skin. Whatever poison she's spewing, he’ll have to undo it all later.
Seeing as how Bebe isn’t releasing Kyle from her clutch, Stan makes a pit stop for his coffee. If he’s being honest, he’s secretly very thankful for Bebe’s blabbermouth. It’s delaying the inevitable, but it’s a delay he can appreciate. Despite what he’s been telling the team, he can’t be sure Kyle isn’t going to, as Cartman said so nicely, ruin their lives. Most of them are around the same age and can probably find a new job with no problem. But for some, this paycheck is the only sense of purpose they have. He’ll be damned if he goes out without a fight.
He’s in the middle of filling his cup when footsteps walking into the lunchroom take his eyes off the coffee pot.
“Good morning.”
Stan would’ve said good morning back but he is way too distracted by the red curls tamed to perfection to frame a delicate face. He’s captivated by the bright, insightful green eyes gazing at him and the polite smile on elegant lips. The nose that Kenny says is too big is the centerpiece to the work of art that is Kyle Broflovski.
At 8:51 on an overcast Wednesday morning in October, 25-year-old Stanley Marsh finally knows what love at first sight means.
“I'm Kyle. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Oh.” Stan snaps back to reality at Kyle’s extended hand. In a stroke of genius, he hands Kyle the coffee pot instead of his own hand. Before he can undo the gesture, Kyle takes the pot with an appreciative albeit bemused smile. It’s absurd; Kyle doesn’t even have a mug with him. “Shit - Sorry.” He wipes his hand on his pants then extends to shake hands with Kyle. All the while, Kyle awkwardly holds onto the coffee pot.
“Hey there, welcome! I’m Stan. It’s good to meet you here - I mean - have you here. I’m the sales team lead. I guess we’ll be working together a lot.”
“Stan. Right. Victoria told me very good things about you.” Kyle studies him in a way that sends flutters up Stan’s spine. “I look forward to our partnership.”
“Here - let me - “ Stan reaches for the pot then stops. “Uh, would you like some coffee?”
“Oh, no, thank you. I came in for some tea, actually.” Kyle sets the pot back on the burner then leans to the side to see past Stan. “Bebe says you have some.”
Stan turns around to pick up the (only) two boxes of tea. “We do. We have the black ones and the green ones.” Kyle points and asks to have a green tea bag, and Stan suddenly pulls back like he’s playing a game of keep-away. “Here, I’ll get it for you.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.” Kyle reaches out. “I can do it myself.”
“Don’t worry about it. Consider it… your welcome gift,” Stan jokes as he brews the tea in a paper cup for Kyle. He knows he’s smiling too eagerly when he hands the tea over. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Thank you, I appreciate the gift.” Kyle plays along with a soft chuckle, looking nothing like the force of mass destruction people claim he is.
“Yeah, sure, if you need anything else, just let me know.” Stan shrugs casually and picks up his coffee.
“Just remember you offered,” Kyle smiles. Stan’s stomach does that thing it does when it’s nervous. The slight pause gives Stan the hint that Kyle isn't really one for small talk even though he talks more eloquently than this office requires.
“Has Bebe shown you around yet? Where everything is? Restroom and stuff?” Stan gestures vaguely behind him. “Emergency exits.”
“No, not yet, but I think I’ll manage for now. I was hoping to get settled in before all that.”
Kyle turns the tea and holds it with his fingers. Stan feels like an airhead for not doubling up on the cup. A first degree burn will really impress Corporate.
“Okay, well, when you’re ready, I’d be happy to give the grand tour,” Stan says with an enthusiastic smile. “It’s not much, but we’re pretty proud of it.”
Before Kyle can answer, Victoria busts in with an obsequious grin. “Oh, Kyle! There you are. I was looking all over for you. I see you’ve met Marsh. Good, good, are you all settled in? Come on, let's head up to my office. I’ll give you the rundown.”
Kyle nods at Victoria then turns back to Stan. “It was nice chatting, Stan.” He lifts his tea in gratitude then smiles at Stan’s “Mornings Blow” mug. “Cute mug. I have one just like that. I’ll see you in the afternoon.”
With that, Kyle follows Victoria out and leaves Stan to wallow in the afterglow of their encounter. He fixes his coffee the way he likes it and thinks, maybe it isn’t going to be so bad after all.
Throughout the day, Stan is exceptionally tuned to Kyle’s presence. He steals nosy glances whenever Kyle emerges in between his meetings with the different departments. While he can’t say he’s satisfied with the hasty glimpses, it is all he can ask for until at 2:59, he knocks on Kyle's door to announce his attendance and steps into his ex-assistant manager’s old office.
“Right on time.” The impressed smile on Kyle doesn’t go unnoticed. “Actually, I stand corrected. Stan, you’re early.”
“I can come back in one minute if that works better for you,” Stan jokes as he checks a watch he isn’t wearing.
Kyle chuckles and invites Stan to take a seat. If Kyle brought any personal items with him, they aren’t displayed yet in the barren office. In addition to the stationeries and furniture, the only other items present are a pool of white three-ring binders on the desk, some scattered paperworks, and the half-full paper cup of tea.
“How are you settling in?” Stan asks, sitting upright in the chair. “You were all over the place today. I bet you don’t need that tour anymore.”
“A tour would’ve been more relaxing,” Kyle replies with a composed smile. Stan can see his tiredness rearing its head. There’s still three hours to go before the day is over, but he has the feeling that clocking out at six isn’t an option for Kyle. “I don’t think I had the chance to appreciate the architecture and decor.”
“Hey, the offer still stands if you got a minute. I know all the good spots the other tour guides won’t show you,” Stan says.
Kyle chuckles again, dipping his head low for a moment to give a great view of his long eyelashes. “Let’s try to get this over with quickly then. Maybe I can find the time before dinner to go on that tour.” He flips open a manilla folder and scans down what looks to be Stan’s last year annual review. When he looks up again, the composed smile dwindles with professionalism. “Before we start, I want to address the misperception about my function here. I’m not here to put anyone out of a job and I’m not here to tell you how to do it either. My duty here is to assess and to assist. That’s all.”
“I understand completely,” Stan nods and can’t think of anything else to add.
“I’m glad you do,” Kyle says. He wakes his computer and looks at something Stan can’t see. “I’d like to have one-on-one meetings with everyone in your department. Can you help with that? You’re welcome to be there if that makes everyone feels more comfortable.”
Stan nods again. “I’ll set it up for tomorrow.”
“Thank you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to get started with you.” Kyle picks up the manilla folder. He turns to the next page, pauses to read something, then flips back to the first. He looks up at Stan with an intrigued gaze. “Tell me about yourself, Stan.”
Either it’s from a moment of sheer panic or maybe he thinks he’s being funny, Stan replies without thinking, “I love dogs and the Broncos.”
Stan can see Kyle making a mental note in his head. He can see it now on whatever reports Kyle has to turn in to Corporate. Stanley Marsh, Team Leader, a complete asshat. He slouches slightly, like that will make his embarrassment diminish. To his relief, Kyle chuckles in the same way that twists Stan’s guts.
“I was thinking more on the professional level,” Kyle clarifies with a suppressed smile.
Stan puts on a sheepish smile in return. “Well, uh, what do you want to know?”
“Everything.” Kyle leans back into his chair. His gaze never once wavers. “You were promoted to team leader just two days ago. Tell me why. Tell me what makes you deserved it”
Stan swallows uneasily. For once, he looks away from the man who’s captured his attention since the moment they met.
Two hours later, Stan finally comes out of Kyle’s office. Kyle regrettably declined the tour; he has dinner plan with Victoria and Garrison, the other director here, and frankly Stan grew an ulcer after that meeting. It’s astonishing how Kyle can fluncture between being perfectly courteous and blunt to a deadly point. The way he drilled Stan on his performance and his explanation on the branch’s stagnance is worse than what Wendy could have done. And Wendy, bless her soul, is the toughest HBIC Stan knows.
He rubs his face while he wakes the computer then takes his eyes off the 62 emails in his inbox (most, he can tell, are nonsense from the team) to catch Kyle walk out of his office with the paper cup in hand. He trails Kyle’s path through the floor and into the lunchroom. An over-caffeinated Tweek jitters out of the way after a nervous greeting. Once Kyle’s out of sight, Stan skims through his inbox and picks out the ones that are worth reading.
At 5:08, Kyle walks out of the lunchroom with a doubled-up cup of tea (Stan assumes it’s tea but he can’t prove it). When astute green eyes with an accompanying poised smile find their way on him, Stan does something he’s never done in the three years he worked at HOE. He agrees with something Cartman said.
Kyle Broflovski is going to ruin his life. He guarantees it.