A/N: This is my first ever Hey Arnold! Fanfic. I'm excited, and I hope I'll be able to finish it (eventually). I've always been a fan of not going with the relationship flow of certain books and tv shows -though I do love the Arnold/Helga pairing-. After reading some Gerald/Helga fanfics though, it got be thinking. Especially "Hot Air" - They would make a great couple too.

Anyways. On with the story!

Oh! Disclaimer: I do not own HA!

The music was blaring, the sound of people winning money and losing money filled the air, along with the various smells of food, perfume, and cologne. The group of 21 year old friends,ten in all, were hanging out near the bar and the dance floor. Helga G. Pataki was one near the bar, already on her fourth whiskey. She was watching Arnold and Phoebe dancing rather closely together. Phoebe had never been a wild one, but here in Las Vegas even she couldn't resist having a few drinks and letting loose a little.

Helga couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as she watched them dancing. She loved Arnold, she wasn't as obsessed with him now as she was when they were younger, but she still pined for him from afar. She jumped a bit when she heard someone speak up behind her.

"You're drinking a lot, don't you think?" It was the voice of Gerald Johanssen, of course. What did he want?

"Listen here-" Helga whipped around to rail on him, but she staggered a bit. She hadn't moved much since she started drinking and the sudden movement combined with the alcohol threw her off balance. Gerald caught her and smirked a bit. Helga just narrowed her eyes. "What do you want Geraldo?" She muttered, sitting on a stool.

Gerald rolled his eyes at the nickname. "Came to get a drink is all. Mind if I join you?" Gerald was still pretty sober, mainly because he had been dancing more then he had been drinking.

"Sure. Whatever." Helga waved her hand a bit and ordered another round. Why had she even agreed to come to this stupid reunion? It wasn't even a reunion. They had done this for three years running, the P.S. 118 class getting together once a year since high school ended. Helga had skipped the first two, but Rhonda insisted she come to this one-plus the fact that they were in Las Vegas did sweeten the deal.

Two hours and a countless number of drinks later, Gerald and Helga were pouring their hearts out to each other. Leave it to the liquid truth serum, Whiskey for Helga and Scotch for Gerald, to lead the pair to this.

"I'm not...not a bad person...really. I don't really enjoy hurting people...you know?" Helga leaned her head on her hand, her dark blue eyes on Gerald. He hadn't changed too much in the past three years. Well he was much taller, and he hair was now down to a shorter—much shorter—length.

"I know you ain't a...a bad person Helga." Gerald flashed a grin in her direction, his words slurred a bit.

"...Really?" Helga raised an eyebrow, yes she had ditched the unibrow her first year of high school.

"Mmmhm. You're not so bad." Helga was about to say something when there was a loud noise. They pair looked over and watched a new bride and groom coming out of a side room. One of those quickie marriage places. They looked so happy, and drunk as hell. Gerald laughed after they had gone past and then turned to Helga again. He stood, stumbled a bit, but caught himself, and held a hand out to Helga. His chocolate brown eyes were just as glazed over and dazed as her own. Helga took his hand and giggled as she did her best to stand. "Mm Helga. Marry Me?"

Now if Helga had been sober, or not as drunk as she had been at this moment, that question would have earned Gerald a punch in the face from Old Bessy. On the other hand, if Gerald hadn't sat down and gotten drunk with her he wouldn't have even asked. Helga merely smiled.

"Sure Gerald. I'll marry you."

Hope you liked it. R&R!