Author's Note: I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen. I have no excuse. I know I shouldn't start anything new…Just blame it on my muse.

Summary: A/U Arnold is about two years older than Helga, so they never met as children. Arnold was often Helga's saving grace in life, what would her childhood have been life if Arnold hadn't been in it? Arnold meets Helga during his senior year in college. Just what is it about the feisty blonde that interests him so much, especially when she wants nothing to do with him?

Lightning Bolt: Introduction

Arnold Shortman was hot and clammy as he walked to his first Wednesday morning class. It was the first week of September and unseasonably warm. Normally by the first week of classes the weather had started to cool down a bit, but today he was wearing a t-shirt and shorts and was still sweating a little bit. It was his second day of classes of his senior year at Washington University and he was already counting down the days until he would finally graduate and welcome the real world with open arms. He was sick of death of school and he was more than ready to be done.

His first class of the day was a creative writing class he was more or less forced to take. While creating his schedule he realized he was an English credit short of graduating. He figured the class would be an easy A. Walking into class he noticed it was a small classroom with only a dozen or so desks. He took a seat at one of the only seats available. It was on in the second row third seat in. He shot the girl with light brown hair that sat to his right a quick smile as he sat down.

Arnold pulled out his notebook and pencil just before the class's professor, Simon Alexander, walked out of his office in the back corner of the class. "Good morning and welcome to Creative Writing." Simon, who looked to be in his mid to late thirties, sat down on top of his desk at the front of the classroom, "My name is Simon Alexander, you can all call me Simon. I know normally professors go through the syllabus on first day, but I'm not going to do that. You all can read. Go though it on your own time. I'll take a quick role call and we'll get started."

After taking role call Simon wrote three sentences on the white board, "Alright, these are prompts. You have fifteen minutes to write as much as you can about whichever one inspires you. This will give me a chance to take a look at your writing skills." He looked at his watch, "And we start….Now."

She left the freeway and drove into a small town, where she stopped at the first restaurant she saw and ordered lunch.

His college football team lost the game in the last thirty seconds left to play.

I woke up in complete darkness.

Arnold chose the first one and began writing.

He stared at his notebook as the minutes passed by. He sighed heavily. He barely had two paragraphs written down. He glanced at the clock on the wall. There was still seven minutes left. He had his pencil in his hand, but he was not writing. He looked around to see if anyone is class was struggling with this. Most everyone else looked to be writing, though it looked like there were slowing down.

Everyone that is, except for one girl who was sitting diagonally in front of him. Her pencil glided along her paper without hesitation and it appeared she had no signs of slowing down. Looking at the back of her head Arnold found himself wondering what she looked like from the front. She had golden blonde hair scooped up into a pony tail and the straps of her pink tank top shows hints of tattoos on each shoulder. On her right shoulder a large black and gray rose that covered the entire top of her shoulder. On the back of her left shoulder there was a simple black arrow.

How the hell was she still writing? He noticed that her pencil movements had yet to slow down.

Suddenly the pencil stopped.

Slowly the girl turned and looked at him.

Shit, Arnold quickly looked down at this paper. She must have realized he was staring at her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her glare at him before turning her attention back to her writing. Her pencil began to write at its previous pace.

She was really pretty, Arnold realized. Though he only saw her for a short moment he saw that she had the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen. They were dark blue and absolutely gorgeous.

"Alright, time is up."

Arnold looked down at what he had written. There were only about two paragraphs. He probably shouldn't have spent the last seven minutes of writing time ogling the blonde sitting in front of him.

"I'm looking forward to reading everyone's work." Simon said as he walked around collecting everyone's paper. Arnold saw that he paused at the blonde's desk as she handed him three pieces of paper. "Don't worry about length. When it comes to writing quality is more important than quantity." He stopped, seemingly skimming the first page of the blonde's writing prompt. "I have to say Miss…" He paused, looking the name on top of the paper. "Pataki, I am really looking forward to reading your work." He smiled at her before continuing to collect everyone's paper.

At the end of class the other students cleared out fairly quickly. The blonde, whose last name was apparently Pataki, still remained as she packed up her things. Arnold took a deep breath before approaching her, "Hi." He greeted nervously.

She looked up at him as she swung her messenger bag over her shoulder. She shot him confused look. "Hi?" Her reply came out more as a question than a greeting.

"I'm Arnold."

"That's nice." She began to make her way out of the classroom.

"What's your name?"

"Why do you want to know? You want to put a name to the person you have been staring at the whole way through class?" She asked with a raised eyebrow as sped up her pace.

"Oh. You noticed that, huh?" Arnold asked nervously. He scratched the back of his neck as he followed her.

"It's kind of hard not to notice someone burning a hole in the back of your head with their eyes. Is there a reason why you are following me? I already think you are kind of a creep of staring at me. Following me isn't helping."

"Sorry about that. I just saw how much you were writing and…What prompt did you chose? I did the one about the girl at the restaurant." He paused, "I'm sorry for staring." Arnold apologized. "And for following you. I swear I'm not a creep. I just want to know your name."

Arnold didn't know what was wrong with him. He had never exactly been smooth with women, but it was never this bad. Now he suddenly felt he was fourteen trying to talk to a pretty girl for the first time. It had been a long time since he had been this awkward around a girl.

The blonde stopped in her tracks. "Why?"

Arnold furred his eyebrows in confusion. "Why? Why what?"

"Why do you want to know my name?"

The question caught Arnold off guard. "I…That's what people do when they meet new people. You learn their name." He paused, "We're in the same class; I'll lean your name eventually." He argued, immediately regretting it. Why was he being so damn creepy? He didn't understand why he was pushing her so hard on this. She clearly didn't want to talk to him. He really didn't blame her, he was pretty sure he was creeping the hell out of her.

The blonde smiled, "Well enjoy the mystery until then." She waved, "I need to get to my next class. See ya around Football Head."

With those words she left him standing alone and confused. Who was this girl? And why did Arnold want to find out so badly?

Wait. Did she just call him Football Head?

Seriously, who the hell was this girl?