It was always bound to happen this way. After our rocky past together our future was inevitable and this present was necessary. Our personalities wouldn't allow anything else.

-

Gerald nudged his best friend as he noticed their arch nemesis Helga G. Pataki stomping across Gerald Field. It was the beginning of their first summer break after starting college. It was the first time most of them had seen each other since Christmas or before. Helga hadn't been seen since they graduated.

While most of their group had gone to State or Tech and a couple of them closer or further away, Helga had spent the year in Europe with her sister. Olga taught English on a military base in Germany and invited her baby sister to use her home as a base for a yearlong adventure backpacking in Europe. Helga's parents had gladly funded the expedition because of how guilty they felt about her childhood.

Gerald said something Arnold didn't quite catch, but it snapped him back into reality.

"Huh?" Gerald gave him an exasperated look.

"I said, what did you do to piss her off this time? You haven't even seen her in almost a year."

Arnold swallowed guiltily. "We had a disagreement via email a few months ago and I never made a move to patch things up." Arnold sighed at Gerald's skeptical look. "I know, I know, she could have made overtures to fix things, but that's not the way we work. I'm supposed to be the one who apologizes. And that's messed up, but I've done a lot of thinking since then and I think I know how to handle her now."

Arnold was saves from Gerald's reply by Helga finally reaching her destination.

"What the crap, Arnold? I'm halfway across the planet, alone, and you decide I'm not worth writing to anymore? And then I come home and you can't even call and say hey?"

Helga looked like she was about to really get going, but Arnold did something unexpected enough to stun her momentarily before things really blew up. He started yelling back.

"Communication is a two way street. You could have written again too. I will not keep apologizing because you are so totally unable to associate normally with the human population."

With the look on Helga's face and Arnold's clenched fists, Gerald took an instinctive step back. His survival might depend on it. He had never seen his best friend so upset. And as he did, the floodgates let loose and both parties began screaming accusations and insults at each other.

Gerald only caught bits and pieces of what was being said (screamed) but it sounded like they were digging up their entire lives as ammunition. Gerald debated the necessity of stepping in to calm them down, but he was fairly certain on of them would deck him.

As he began to step forward, reluctantly, the day once again got weirder. Arnold suddenly shoved Helga up against the wall and kissed her. Actually, kiss might not be the best word. He mauled her face with his own. Gerald did a double take, not believing what his eyes had just relayed to his brain. Surely they were still arguing and not making out angrily and passionately again the back wall of Gerald Field. This was too surreal.

"Um, guys? Arnold? Helga? This is getting intense and if you don't stop you're going to put on a show that will probably get you arrested."

Both of them turned and scowled at him before Arnold grabbed Helga's wrist and dragged her towards the empty storage shed near the bleachers.

Gerald weighed his options. Surely they wouldn't kill each other in this insane interlude. But with Arnold fighting back all bets were off.

Phoebe came hurrying onto the field. "Gerald! I was hoping Arnold was with you. Helga is on a warpath and we need to... Gerald? What happened?"

Phoebe followed Gerald's gaze to the storage shed. She glanced back to him with an obvious question in her eyes. Gerald nodded.

"Lets go sit on the bleachers and catch up."

Twenty minutes later the door to the shed opened and a very ragged looking Arnold led a very mussed Helga out. They saw their friends sitting on the bleachers and headed that way.

"We've come to an understanding." Arnold spoke. Helga stayed strangely silent. Gerald looked at the scratches and fingernail marks on his arms. He noticed Arnold's inside-out shirt and unzipped jeans. He looked at the large red mark on Helga's neck and her swollen lips. He saw the way she stood slightly behind him and clutched his hand.

"Anyone up for pizza?"