A/N: I get goosebumps coming back to this section after almost four years. I feel old at the new change of writers and genre of stories. However, I am in LOVE with Hey Arnold and always will be. I am rather disappointed with the lack of Gerald and Phoebe fiction and I tend to change that. I LOVE me some Helga and Arnold but I want to touch on Gerald and Phoebe for a little while. Hope you all enjoy my dark, twisted fantasies.

Warning: For MATURE audiences ONLY. Strong language, racial stigmatizing, sexuality, and graphic scenes to ensue. All characters belong to their respective owners and are used under the Fair Use Act for literary and creative purposes. No copyright intended.

Phoebe

I giggled as he slid a warm hand along the smooth texture of my thigh, purring into my ear as he gently nipped at my earlobe. He was careful not to snag on the onyx pearl studs he had given me for Valentine's Day this past year. One of his favorite 'Jay-Z' songs was playing from his latest album, 'The Throne', in the background so I politely suggested something a bit less…aggressive to set the mood he was trying to get me into. Hearing suggestive lyrics and racial epitaphs can get a girl sexually aroused so much. He handed me the remote to his sound system with a small grin, never once stopping his pursuit of getting me down upon the makeshift 'bed' he had created with a concoction of assorted comforters, pillows, and sheets. I smiled. Gerald was never the most romantic guy I have ever dated, but he sure was the most creative. Every other guy would have taken the cliché route of dinner, movie, and maybe a light stroll along the beaches of Hillwood. No, not Gerald. My Gerald. Though our romance is in secret and our connection is very limited to only social networking sites and email- he would have trouble paying his cell-phone bill from time to time while my family refuses to allow me to even have one- the spontaneity of our relationship was always consistent and fresh. Even though Gerald worked lousy hours at the local supermarket and earned less than minimum wage, he would never hesitate to spend every dime within in paycheck on me. It was never much, maybe seventy-five here or a hundred there; but it did not matter. Gerald made what he had work to keep a smile on my face; and I loved him more and more each day for it. Tonight was 'Romance in Japan'. Taking in my Japanese heritage and the love I have for my culture, Gerald took it upon himself to redecorate his room with koi fish, makeshift cherry blossoms made of pink and fuchsia construction paper with heavily applied school glue, miniature bonsai trees, sushi, and green-tea. I was a bit weary and hesitant to come over when he had instant messaged me to come over to his room for a surprise. The last surprise he had planned for me did not fair over as well as we both hoped; his parents bursting in after hearing the small love taps against the wall from his headboard and me having to run outside in fear of being chased by his sister in nothing but his basketball shorts and my bra. I even forgot my glasses that night so I walked home blind as a bat. This time, however, things were going better than expected. I remembered telling Gerald one time during a casual conversation that I missed going to Japan this year because my little sister was sick and how it saddened me. I loved going to Kyo during the fall and winter months because of the beautiful natured scenery and the cool nip of mountain air. I was floored upon entering Gerald's bedroom to become greeted with so many elements of my heritage that I immediately started tearing up. He had told me since I could not go to Japan this year, Japan would come to me. I embraced him in a joyous hug as he placed a small yet passionate kiss upon my lightly glossed lips. Gerald was nowhere close to the perfect man, but he sure was perfect for me.

I switched from Jay-Z to another one of his favorite artists: Drake. His favorite song, and ironically mine, "Brand New" began to gracefully whist from the subwoofers upon his windowsill and into the medium-sized bedroom; the vibrations of the bass massaging my inner-thighs only making me even more of a devilish minx. I was now definitely in the mood. I gently pushed Gerald against the makeshift tatami mat he called a pallet and straddled him, removing my blue sweater and exposing a white, sheer lace bra. I unclasped my high pony-tail and allowed my raven tendrils to frame my face and fall upon the valleys of my breasts. Gerald was smiling, eyes half-lidded as his hands reached behind the cloak of night to unhook my bra. He always struggled with the damned thing and I never understood why boys had the hardest times undoing bra straps. I watched his brow furrow in frustration as a light layer of sweat began to form atop of his forehead. I chuckled and aided him in undressing me. Then he as I returned to favor. It was close to midnight when I had looked at the clock above his dresser last. He had kissed me one last time before placing his hands upon my hips, taking off my glasses and setting them beside us. I always grew bashful when I was nude in front of Gerald but he always, always, made sure I was comfortable before he indulged in his own pleasures. He would whisper sweet, heart-felt truths into my ear to ease some of the embarrassment and place feather-like kisses on every inch of my body to make me feel special, wanted. Though this would not be the first time Gerald and I grew intimate, I was still new. But Gerald was patient, understanding. He allowed me all the time I needed before he began his rhythm. And my…what a great rhythm indeed.

I looked at the clock as it read a quarter past nine. I was a bit groggy and confused. I glanced around and saw that I was not in my bed or in my room, but on the floor wrapped in a large dark blue comforter in Gerald's bedroom. My clothes were sprawled out all over the place and the sushi Gerald and I had for dinner the evening before was sitting against one of his chairs next to some cold green tea. I began to panic.

How could I have been so stupid!? My parents are going to kill me!

I scurried off the floor, almost tripping over the various comforters Gerald had laid out to make the wooden floorboards of his bedroom more comfortable. Before I could put on my panties, I watched his bedroom door slowly swing open. I screamed and accidentally tripped over the burgundy ottoman Gerald had resting at the foot of his bed, landing in a pile of month old laundry. My heart was pounding so hard and fast into my ears that I almost didn't have the chance to register the loud cackling sounds of my boyfriend. I let out a small sigh of relief.

"GERALD!"

"You alright, Phoebe?" he said in between small laughs, attempting to help me up. He was dressed in his signature black and red Michael Jordan basketball shorts, white tube socks, and a white tank and smelled of water, Dial soap and Michael Kors cologne. "I didn't mean to startle you, but it was funny seeing you fall."

I shot him a snide glance before grabbing his helping hand as I rose to my feet. "I thought it was Timberly." I used one of Gerald's least soiled T-shirts to shield my nude body. I couldn't help but notice as his smiled curled into somewhat of a condescending smirk. "What?"

"Even after four years of dating and almost a year of us having sex, you still are ashamed to be naked in front of me."

I blushed, thanking Kami that I had my disheveled hair to veil the sudden hue in my cheeks. "I am not ashamed!"

He folded his arms. "Yeah, ok."

"I'm not!" I shot back defensively, dropping his T-shirt. I stood bare for about five seconds before I reached to pick it back up, shrieking. Gerald, however, wouldn't let me and in a single motion, swooped me in his arms and threw me against his bed. Before I could even say a word, his lips crashed against mine, his hard, toned body meshing perfectly against my taut form; his hands beginning to roam my body as he positioned himself in between my legs. "Gerald!"

"Yes?" he answered absentmindedly, attacking the crevice of my neck, biting. "Hm?"

"I have to go." I squirmed. "My parents are going to be furious!"

"It's already taken care of, love." Small suckling commenced upon my neck and I could feel him begin to shed himself of his lounge wear. "I texted Arnold last night to tell Helga to let your folks know you would be sleeping over her house and to expect later today."

I gasped, surprised. Did he plan to sleep with me? "You did what!?"

He stopped, eyeing me. "What's the problem?"

"So you just had planned on the night going your way, huh?"

His eyes grew wide. "What are you talking about, Phoebe?"

"You expected to sleep with me?" I could feel myself becoming emotional. I don't know why but it bothered me when Gerald did that. It was a primary reason we broke up the first time back freshman year of high school. He was ready for intimacy, I was not. He had the audacity to call and tell Arnold he was going to 'hit it' that night when I thought it would be a simple romantic evening. Though Gerald could be a complete gentleman when he wanted to be, he could be a real jerk. "How could you!?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Phoebe!" he grabbed my chin and guided me to look him in the eye. I resisted but he was much stronger than I. "It wasn't even like that. I didn't expect anything to happen but I didn't doubt the possibility that it would." He paused to kiss me. "You know I think much more highly of you than a piece of ass."

"I guess…" That set him off.

"You guess?" He reiterated, this time getting from on top of me and putting his tank back on. "Really, Phoebe? Are we still on this?"

By ''this", he was referring to his somewhat affair with an ex of his, Ariel. Ariel was everything I wish I could be; confident, independent, poised, strong-willed, attitude, everything. She possessed every trait I wish I had as a woman and I could see why Gerald gravitated towards her the way he did during our break. We had taken a break about a year ago because my parents had 'officially' found out about my relationship with Gerald. They thought we were just friends and I had a mere crush on him and though they did not even approve of that, they allowed it because it proved to be harmless. One summer evening, my father was coming back from work and instead of pulling into the garage with his black Mercedes, he carpooled with a colleague of his. I didn't recognize the Audi that pulled up in front of our home so thought nothing of it as I allowed Gerald to tongue me down in front of my father. It wasn't until I heard him yell out profanities in Japanese that I knew it was him. By then, Gerald was already racing down the street and I was being pulled into the house by my hair. A screaming match between my father and Mr. Johanssen occurred moments later. Apparently my father had called Gerald's to tell him to tell his son to keep away from me. Mr. Johanssen did not take well to my father calling him in such a brash tone and calling Gerald a slur of racially derogatory names and found himself in front of my house with Gerald's brother, Jaime-O, ready to fight. Gerald came to diffuse the situation but I watched from my bedroom window in tears as my mother, father, and my beloved created a spectacle for the entire block to see. My father and Mr. Johanssen did not fist-fight, but they shared from words with one another. The following day, Gerald and I got into our own altercation because he felt as if I did not stick up for him and I sat by and watched my family degrade his own. I tried to defend my position and get Gerald to realize the difficult predicament I was in, but he had a valid point; and as much as I tried to ignore my own faults, he was right that I should have defended him. I should have went down stairs and stood my ground against my father I should have professed my undying love for Gerald. I should have done a lot of things differently. It was then when Gerald said he just wanted to 'muck' around with me and that he really didn't love me. I didn't want to cry in front of him so I suggested we take a break and ran off. It wasn't until a few days later that Helga had told me that Arnold saw Gerald getting cozy with some transfer student from Brooklyn; some black girl, Ariel.

"Gerald…"

"You just won't let it go, will you?"

"I can!" I stopped to collect my thoughts, inching slowly towards his irritated form. "I just…"

"I told you I said that out of anger, Phoebe. Damn!" He gently pushed me away as he made his way to the door, putting on his house slippers. "I'm going to go make me some cereal."

"Gerald, can we please talk?"

"About what?" he turned around to face me. "About that fact that you just can't seem to move past one simple slip up I did but seem to forget all of yours?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Phoebe." He breathed in a deep breath, running a single hand through the coiled, curled of his freshly cut hair. Gerald outgrew the hi-top fade back in middle-school and settled for a very short, cute, curly afro. It suited him well. "You seem to forget how you damaged our relationship, but yet remember the ONE TIME I did something out of line."

"What did you want me to do, Gerald!?" I screamed, completely angry. I hated when we would argue about this. Almost every other week we would argue about the purple elephant in the room: race. "I can't control my father."

"So you stand by and watch him call me a filthy Nig- "

"Don't you dare say that!" I choked. I got out of the bed; nudity damned to hell, and went up to face Gerald. Though he never blamed me for any of it, it was clear how he felt about the situation. We remained on 'break' for over a year. It was Arnold's doing that got us back together. He had tricked Gerald into coming over for a movie night to watch 'Scarface' and Helga was in on the act. Helga invited me over Arnold's with the same lie and once we were face-to-face for the first time in over a year, all those submerged emotions surfaced. We got back together that night but we both secretly knew it would never be the same. Our relationship would either grow stronger or wither away because of what happened that night; and right now, it was not looking so good. "You know I don't think of you like that."

"Your family does. Your father thinks I am some subhuman alien and your mother still thinks we are still in the Jim Crow era!"

I sighed, almost coming to tears. I hated conflict and I hated arguing with Gerald. "…I'm sorry…"

"Sorry doesn't fix us, Phoebe. I can't even go over your house!"

"And me sneaking into your bedroom window every night like we're thirteen again is better!?" I retorted. The only reason last night was any different was because Gerald's parents had gone to the Bahamas for the weekend for a second honey moon, Jaime-O was away at college working on his Masters, and Gerald had paid Timberly fifty dollars to keep her mouth shut. "Real classy way to seduce a lady."

"You were invited over my home once upon a time, Phoebe." Gerald's voice grew harsh, serious. "It wasn't until that night when my father almost went to jail for assault and battery that you were banned from stepping foot over here."

"Your mother admitted she hates me!"

"Because of that night, Phoebe!" Gerald roared. I stepped back a little and met the hardened gaze the wooden floorboards. I began to cry. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were; before the invisible blinders were lifted from our eyes and exposed the true horrors of racism. I wanted Gerald to be happy again. I knew he loved me, I knew he wanted to marry me, but I also knew the fact that my family would never accept him bothered him something serious; and I hated how I had no idea how to fix it. We were graduating soon and although Gerald was offered a full-scholarship to play basketball in California, he was considering options in Boston…since I accepted my admissions to Harvard. He was sacrificing so much to be with me that he was almost giving up himself…his happiness. How could I do something like that to someone I loved more than life itself?

I watched Gerald punch a nearby wall, earning a small squeak of fear from me, and the pattering of feet running down the hall from Timberly. He sighed lowly, turning away from me and heading to the hallway. "I will take you home once you get dressed. I have things to do today."

"Ooooohhh!" Timberly yelled, standing in front of Gerald's doorway. "You punched Mama and Daddy's wall. I'm gonna tell!"

"Timberly, shut the hell up!" he barked, shoving past her and down the stairs to the kitchen.

I stood silent, gazing at Timberly as she eyed me like a venomous snake about to devour an unsuspecting field mouse. She sucked in her teeth. "I liked Ariel, better; and put some clothes on. This is not some brothel."