Hey Arnold! got me into fanfiction, and I'm finally putting a story to words. It came to me the other night, and had to be written, and thus, it came forth. Inspired by the scene that was planned for the cancelled Jungle Movie, which is NO LONGER CANCELLED. After all these years, it'll be a reality! I can't wait!

I hope you enjoy my little scenario :)

"Alright, so we all know where to go. Let's spread out and meet up back here in an hour, alright?" Arnold's gritty voice reverberated through the forest glade, a unique spot in the rather dense jungle surrounding them. Everyone nodded to one another, no pleasantries exchanged.

They were all on a mission, and that was to find Arnold's parents.

Their task was to go in one direction into the thick jungle, listening and searching for any signs of the Green-Eyed People. What had originally been a Field Trip had become a disaster when the gang was caught in a huge rope trap, the illusive tribe stealing away with their teacher. Though finding their teacher was a priority, the students knew that the only way they could communicate with the lost tribe was to find Arnold's parents. Signs had pointed to them still being alive, and the fire in Arnold's heart inspired his classmates.

He turned around with a purpose, looking down at the heirloom compass around his neck. Walking forward, he ducked under limbs, slid around gigantic leaves and stumbled over roots as the afternoon sun struggled through the canopy. Sweat was heavy on his brow, but he was determined, wiping it away without a second thought. He slid his jacket off, tying it around his waist as the humidity threatened to exhaust him before he reached his goal.

There was a loud snap and a muffled gasp just off to his side.

Arnold jumped at the sound, "W-who's there?"

"Ugh..." a groggy voice sounded, "can't believe I almost walked right into it..."

Approaching the sound, Arnold spoke again, "You alright?"

The figure, barely visible behind the greenery, froze, "A-A-Arnold?"

He paused at the mention of his name, before moving forward faster, "Helga, is that-"

"Nonowaittheresa-"

***CRASH***

The ground under Arnold's feet gave way, loud rustling changing into a landslide of sound, rocks tumbling and strong, leafy stems breaking to give way to the trap. From the corner of his eye, Arnold saw Helga's trademark pink dress as she slid down the side of the hole. He watched as she clawed into the dirt walls, which did nothing to stop her descent. The two landed at the bottom of a 10 foot deep hole, with concave edges and a crumbling, yet solid, dirt wall.

"Nngh..." Helga groaned, her palm against her forehead as she held herself up from the ground. Arnold wasn't in much better condition, his jeans ripped through on one knee and one shoe lost in the rubble of dirt. Still, what mattered most to Arnold at that moment was that someone else was there with him.

"Helga, are you alright?" He stumbled over with uneven steps, trying to dodge the few sharp rocks that littered the bottom of the man-made hole, his exposed sock starting to soak through from the wetness of the soil.

"...Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute will ya," she said, not looking forward as she shook the dirt from her hair. When she opened her eyes, she scowled downward, still holding her head, "what happened?"

"We fell down a hole, I think it was some sort of trap-"

"No really, Einstein? I hadn't noticed." Arnold had gotten close enough to her to reach out a hand, offering to let her up. She slapped it away without a second though, "I don't need your charity, Football Head. It's your fault we're in here in the first place!"

Arnold scowled at that, "Mine? The only reason I came over here was because you were there-"

"Yeah, and when did I ask for help, huh? I saw the trap and fell backwards to avoid it, but goody-two-shoes Arnoldo had to come to the rescue once again, now look where we've ended up." She motioned her arm at the surrounding areas, "And to make things worse, I'm stuck with you."

"Hey, I didn't know you'd...wait," he cocked his head, "what're you doing out here, anyways? I didn't think you were heading this direction."

"I uhh-" She seemed unsure for a moment, looking around before confidently snarking, "Th-these compasses don't work for beans, Arnoldo. What, did you get them from the Dollar Store or something? Jeeze Louise, had to go all out for the big trip didn't you?"

Arnold just looked at her, "But you were going in the opposite direction, Helga..."

"Yeah, and what's with all these trees around here? They all look the same! It's no wonder I got turned around. Yeesh Arnold, not everyone's an expert navigator you know." Her voice was cocky, head held high as she crossed her arms. The amount of dirt coating her face didn't do much for the look she was going for, however. With how well Arnold knew her, it was obvious that she was just putting on a show.

"Yeah well, now we're stuck down here, so...I guess it doesn't matter how it happened. Maybe we should start thinking of a way out of here."

"Pfft, fat chance, Football Head. I don't know if you noticed, but those walls are taller than both of us combined. You might have rope, but there's nothing to use it on, so we're basically stuck here until someone comes to find us. Again, well done on that one."

Arnold sighed, moving around to a side several feet away from Helga and sitting down, arms around his knees, "Well, Gerald knows where we're at, and I'm sure his compass is working right. We can just wait here until they come to rescue us."

"Wow, great plan Arnold. Let's just sit around until we're found, that sounds just dandy. Can't believe you got us into this..."

Arnold bit back a remark, his mind turning away. He knew escape wasn't possible, not right now, so he decided it wasn't worth the energy trying. The whole day's plans had gone down the drain because of one stupid mistake, and that thought made him look back at Helga. In the short time he'd spent in thought, she'd retrieved a little notebook from her pack, and was scribbling away furiously in it. He recognized it as something she always pulled out in class.

"Hey, uh...what're you doing?" He mentally slapped himself for the idiotic question.

She scowled, "What does it look like I'm doing, Football Head? I'm writing."

The silence wore on for a little bit. Several minutes passed as Arnold's thoughts organized themselves, but he kept looking back towards Helga. Her expression had softened, the frantic writing now much more tame and precise. Despite her venomous tone from before, the silence was prodding Arnold to say something else.

"What about?" he asked quietly.

"Huh? Oh uh," she looked away, eyes wide, then returning to a frown, "That's n-none of your business, jeeze, can't I have any privacy around here?"

Arnold's expression was flat as he glared at her, "I was just asking-"

"A-alright fine, I'll tell you. Criminy, you're so pushy!" Her voice trembled, "It's just personal j-junk and girly stuff, nothing you'd care about, Arnoldo. Happy?"

He bit his cheek, "I wasn't trying to force you to say anything, but, yes, I am happy. Thank you for telling me, Helga."

She froze, journal held tight against her chest. One of her arms went to her pigtail, fingers combing through it manically and eventually tugging the tie down, leaving her hair to fall over her shoulder. Noticing what she was doing, she looked away, reaching to the other pigtail and more carefully untying it, the blonde mop of hair cascading over her shoulders. All that was left was the bow.

"I-I knew that." Her voice was unsteady, but she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself. Arnold just watched her, trying to read her but not getting very far into it.

Another few minutes passed. Helga retreated back into her writings, her eyes occasionally catching Arnold's before darting back down meekly. After some time, the silence, though dithered by the sounds of several native birds, started to wear on him.

He cleared his throat, causing Helga to jump, "I, uh," he toyed with a tuft of hair that was spilling from his hat, "don't think your personal junk would be boring or anything. I mean, you tell Phoebe about it, right?"

A sharp snort was the response, jolting Arnold from his position resting against the concave wall, "Yeah, right. Like I'd bore her with my family's day-to-day. She's got her own life to worry about, even if it isn't as 'perfect' as your little Football-Headed fairytale seems to be."

He shot her a mildly hurt look, but she continued before he could say anything, "Yeah, I said your life's pretty perfect. What, don't believe me? Well, I mean, you don't have to. Everything's handed to you on a silver platter, everybody loves you, what does it matter if some little thing happens? It'll fix itself...it always does..." Her voice lingered sadly, a gravelly whisper, questioning itself.

"Helga...is something wrong?"

"Huh?" She looked towards him, frowning, shaking her head with disinterest, "Don't worry about it, Arnoldo. We'll find your parents, or, your friends will. Me? I'll just sit here and write..."

Arnold struggled to find something to respond with, and eventually he came upon a question that had been itching at the back of his mind, "Were you...following me?"

"What?" Her eyes were wide, the journal dropping to the dirt floor, "N-no, I was just lost, remember? Bad compass and-" Her voice was frantic, grasping for anything believable.

"It's okay if you were, Helga. I won't be mad or anything." Arnold's tone was sincere, his emerald eyes held upon Helga's diminutive form as she shrunk away from the statement.

"I uh..." her voice was scared, and near a minute passed before she finally spoke again, "m...maybe I was afraid you'd get h-hurt, alright? It's n-not like anyone else was volunteering, and this whole thing would be all for naught if you suddenly disappeared-"

"Helga..."

"And I was worried so I...I kept an eye on you and followed you until we ended up here and now I'm talking too much, what am I saying? It's nothing, Arnold, please, let's just pretend I never said anything, got it?" Her voice went from sad, to tremulous, manic, and eventually a hissed whisper as she ended her sentence.

Arnold didn't reply, instead looking at the dirt floor, still listening.

A minute later, she spoke again, "Why do you want to find your parents, anyways? It's not like they've ever been there for you..."

He frowned, "Because they're good people. I know they are."

Helga snarked in reply, "Yeah, well a lot of people think that my parents are great, but it doesn't change a thing. Just...don't get your hopes up is all I'm saying, alright Mr. Sunshine?"

"What do you mean? I mean, I remember your dad being kind-of a jerk, but-"

"Ha, don't make me laugh, 'kind-of?' He's a complete blowhard!" She raised her arms out to emphasize this fact, "I could bet you a million dollars he doesn't even know my name. I mean, what kind of father does that? Forgets his daughter's name...I mean, he's no better than my mom is!" Her eyes were distant, she was lost in her own little world, "Oh, sure, everyone wants their 'mommy dearest' that's always rooting for you, but when push comes to shove she's passed out behind the couch with a 'special smoothie' staining the floor. Pah." She spat.

Arnold spoke up quietly, "Helga, I had no idea..."

"Hmph. No one does..."

The silence grew for the few moments before Arnold urged himself to move. He stood up, wiping the dirt off of his pants, before walking over to Helga's side.

She stared at him incredulously, "What, Bucko?"

He sat down, smiling, "Nothing. I just wanted to sit over here now."

Helga was unsettled, immediately slipping her journal into her pack again, holding it against her stomach like a lifeline. She refused to look in Arnold's direction, alternating between looking angrily in random directions, and cringing. Despite all of her attempts, he didn't go away. He didn't stop smiling. It infuriated her.

"I can't breathe, can't you sit anywhere else?!"

He cocked his head, "I don't smell that bad, do I?" Just as a jest, he raised his arm to sniff.

Helga screwed her face up in disgust, "Eww, that's so gross!"

Arnold laughed, lightly and warmly. Helga looked at him through wary eyes, and, after a long moment, found herself smiling a little. She forced it away quickly, looking down at her pack.

Frowning, he said, "Hey, Helga...if you can't stand to be around me, why do you care if I'm okay or not?" He was curious, and the innocence in his eyes struck something deep inside Helga. If she hadn't repressed it as deeply as she had, she'd have spilled her heart out right then and there...again.

"It-it has nothing to do with you, Football Head, I just don't want this all to be a complete waste of time. Got it?" Her voice was harsh.

In response, he just smirked, voice warm, "Sure, Helga. Whatever you say."

Conflicting emotions showed upon her face for a moment, before she turned away, shoulder against the dirt wall to hide her face from Arnold. It made him smile wider.

"I don't get why you hide it," he spoke, inching a bit closer, "I mean, it's not like I'll be mad or anything if you care."

"Pfft, as if anything could make you mad, Arnoldo. Trust me, I've been trying for years."

"What do you mean?"

She didn't respond immediately, clutching the pack tighter, "I-I uh mean, you're...you're too soft, okay? Squishy and a pushover, you're always somebody's doormat."

"Mostly just yours, Helga."

"And why is that?" Her arms went up, and she turned to stare at him in disbelief, "I do everything I can to push you away, drive you insane, make you hate me! And you just. Keep. Smiling! I don't get it!"

A half-smile met his lips, "Maybe it's not working any more."

"It should...it's not any different than it has been for the past several years. What's so different now?"

He looked down, smile widening, before a devilish gleam took his eyes, "Because I don't think you mean any of it."

"What?! Of COURSE I mean it! How could I not? You're crazy, Arnoldo! You're annoying and goody and too nice and I can't stand it!"

He looked down for a second, voice softening, "I...don't think I believe you."

"I...I don't care if you don't believe me, it's true! You're annoying, end of story! Now get out of my breathing space before I suffocate, seriously!"

"No."

Their eyes met, blue orbs locking with emerald, as the birds continued to sound in the distance. Arnold held his smile confidently, never faltering. Helga, at last, looked away.

"...Fine. Sit there, for all I care." Her voice was weak, but defiant.

He chuckled lightly, "That's what I like about you, Helga."

Her hair flung around, flicking dirt everywhere as it swished against the wall, "Wh-what?!"

"Even if you're proud, you're still a good person, deep down." Arnold watched as disbelief clouded her eyes, and she began to wring her hands together nervously. He didn't wait for a response, "There's...I'll admit, there's a lot I don't know about you I guess. But despite everything, who's the one who got stuck in a trap with me? Who was more worried something would happen to me than anything else? You, Helga. It's always you. It doesn't matter what happens, you're always there."

At this point, Helga's hair fell in front of her cheeks as she looked away. She slowly found her voice, "Y-yeah, well...an idiot like you is bound to get himself in trouble. I'm just looking out for someone who's too dumb to look out for himself."

He smiled, "You don't mean that, Helga." He moved over a little, only inches away from her now. She flinched away.

"I-I do mean it, I...I..."

Arnold raised his hand to her hair, lifting it away from her cheek as she jumped from the contact. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, but she couldn't hide the red on her cheeks. After all she did to hide her feelings, her body betrayed her. Her heart raced.

"Helga..." His hand pulled away from her cheek, and he curled up next to her, holding his knees again, "I've...been meaning to ask something...for a while now, actually. It's been really bugging me..."

"Y-yeah? W-what is it, Football Head?" The nickname came out fluidly, a defense mechanism holding on until the final moment.

"What you said, on that rooftop...when you..."

She stared at him, a deer caught in the headlights.

"Well...was it true?"

She was paralysed with fear, looking deep into his eyes. The answer was clear, but she couldn't say it.

"I...I thought so," he said weakly, rubbing his arm, "it's been so long since then. I've been thinking about it a lot, and," she was hiding her face again, "I guess, I just didn't expect it at all. I never saw you that way before, never thought anything like that about you until you're suddenly right in my face, proclaiming...well, do I have to say it?" Now there was a blush on his own cheeks, "And...now that I've been thinking about it, I realized that...maybe...you're just doing all this because you're...well...afraid that I won't like you back."

No response.

"Well, Helga? Is it...true?"

A sniffle drew Arnold to lift her chin, now leaning on one hand to get closer to her. There was a tear down one side of her face, the other eye nearing the same, but neither looking in his direction. Arnold's heart fell.

"Helga, I didn't mean to-"

"You're such an idiot, Arnold." Her voice was choked with a sob and weak, but it was sincere, "What do you expect me to say?"

"Well, I uh..." he looked away for a moment, then back at her, smiling, "that I'm an idiot, I guess, heh. What else should I expect?"

She didn't respond, sniffling still as she was. Arnold's thumb ran over her cheek, rubbing away the tear and making her flinch into herself.

"But...I'm your idiot, right, Helga?"

She looked up at him, blinking away the tears as she saw the smile on his face.

"Ah-I, uh...you're...my...idiot?"

His smile was wide and warm, "I just kind-of wish I'd realized how you'd felt earlier. Maybe it wouldn't have been so...strange..."

She tilted her head.

"Helga...I...know you're the type to just, do things, but...I'm old-fashioned. You've made fun of me for it a lot, but...I hope you don't mind me asking...is it alright if I try to, well..." he looked down for a moment, before trying to speak again, and failing. He groaned, "This isn't as easy as I thought it would be, uh...Helga?"

"Yes, Arnold?" Her voice was light and afraid.

"Can I...give you a kiss?"

She fell back against the dirt wall, blood rushing to her cheeks as her lips struggled to respond. Unable to form the words, she managed a small nod.

Arnold smiled, pulling the hair back from her face as he carefully leaned in. He was a little unsure of what to do, having never initiated a kiss himself, not like this, and hesitated. The caution in his eyes must have amused Helga, because she laughed lightly through her nose.

"Wh-what's so funny?" he asked, hovering inches from her lips.

She smiled wider, looking deep into his eyes, "Just...do it. You'll figure it out as you go. It's...not like I'll mind-"

His lips met hers, quieting her voice but stirring her heart to a flutter. Despite how long she'd waited for this moment, she couldn't move her arms, locked as they were around her pack. Fortunately, Arnold's hand found its way behind hers to deepen the kiss. This wasn't her first kiss, but it was her first freely given, and she didn't want to move. Didn't want it to end.

"Woah, am I interruptin' somethin' down here?" Gerald's voice echoed into the hole, and Arnold leapt away, his hands locking behind his head as he leaned back on his heels. Helga was too flustered to speak, hiding her face behind her hair.

"N-no, it's fine, don't worry about it!" Arnold said, looking back at Helga. She was smiling at him behind her hair, laughing at his 'save.' It relaxed him a little bit, as he turned and looked back up at his friend.

"...Whatever you say, Arnold. Whatever you say. Look, I'll go get a rope from the guys, I'll just be a minute. Now, I don't wanna be interrupting somethin' when I get back, got it?"

"You won't be, thanks Gerald."

When his friend went out of view, he took a deep sigh of relief, looking back at the smiling, huddled figure of Helga.

He smiled, "Well, I guess it's time for us to go." He walked back over to the pile of dirt covering his lost shoe, digging a bit to find it.

"Yeah, I uh..." She looked down as she stood up, wiping the dirt from her dress, "I guess it is. I mean, this whole crazy thing was," her voice trembled and broke, "it was nothing, right?"

Arnold looked back at her, smiling, "No, Helga, it was something."

"O-oh," she looked back at him, unsure.

He walked towards her, taking her hands in his, turning her a deeper red, "But we'll get to that later. For now, let's find my parents, alright?"

She didn't respond, looking away sadly.

He squeezed her hands, "Helga, look at me."

She did.

"I promise you, this meant something. I won't forget," he gave one final squeeze, "I'm your idiot, remember, Helga?"

Finally, she smiled, speaking with a gentleness rarely heard by others, "Yeah...you're my idiot, Arnold."

'And don't you forget it.'