Golden Lunar Eclipse suggested this one! So without much ado, let's go ahead with this one! It's not my best, but I wanted to flex a slightly different style and still leave some elements up to reader interpretation. So take it how you will :) I'm still working on the next chapter of "My Fair Pataki," but with more focus on "It's Legend," which I hope to post soon.

" "You want me to WHAT?"

Gerald to Arnold about something involving Helga (AxH)."


"You want me to WHAT?" Gerald yelped, his voice laden with surprise. The laughter of his roommates echoed around him. "Seriously?!" The laughter became even more raucous as the clinking of shot glasses clattered against the rickety wooden table that took up almost half of the tiny kitchen.

Arnold nodded eagerly from across the table, his untamed blond locks bobbing wildly. Gerald tried not to sigh at his friend so far gone after only a few hits of alcohol, but Arnold was a good kid and rarely even took part in the drinking games Gerald so often played with Stinky and Harold. He wasn't even intending to play tonight, but cream soda mixed with butter shots was a sneaky drink with its enticing sweetness that won you over before you realized how much alcohol you'd actually had. A cup of that had been slipped to Arnold as he sat on the couch, surrounded by his textbooks. They still had a week till finals, and they boys needed to unwind. No amount of arm twisting was convincing Arnold – but the prospect of a new cream soda had.

Which was how Arnold had ended up at the table, now shirtless and a bit inebriated, asking Gerald to go down the hall to Phoebe and Helga's apartment and preform a panty raid.

"Oh come on Arnold, I can't get in there without them opening the door for me!"

"Awww, is wittle Gerald afraid?" Harold teased, elbowing Gerald roughly in ribs. "Go knock on the door! Filch something for us and bring us a trophy!"

"Yeah, Gerald, a trophy for the wall!"

"SO what's it gonna be?" Arnold slurred, eyeing Gerald from across the table. "You too scared?"

"I'm not scared!" Gerald puffed his chest out, chugged the shot Harold slid over, then pushed his chair back and stood up proudly. He adjusted his shirt and attempted to smooth over his braids before striding to the door. His hand hovered hesitantly over the knob. The girls lived at the end of the hall in the upperclass apartments. He dared a glance back at the boys at the table, all wearing devious smiles.

"Clear a space – gonna be bringing back some new cups!" Gerald promised, stepping out into the hall and letting the door slam behind him. The hallway was looming before him – and maybe slightly watery – but he managed to get to the sought after door with only minimal help from the wall for balance.

Knock knock knock.

"Yeah, who is it?" Gerald felt a chill up his spine as the harsh voice of Helga Pataki shot through the door.

"It's Gerald! I need to…to borrow some notes from Phoebe for the finals!" he lied. A brief moment of silence before he felt himself heaving a sigh of relief as the door swung open to admit him to an apartment identical to his own – though decorated to suit girls with a much different taste than him.

"Be quick weirdo, she's trying to focus!" Helga snapped, crossing her arms across her chest as she watched Gerald make his way into the common room. He watched her give a quick sniff to the air before narrowing her eyes at him. "If you aren't out in five, I'm going to drag you out. You know I can do it."

"Got it, blondielocks," Gerald snapped back coolie, trying to quell the wavering nervousness in his stomach. He actually liked Phoebe, so he was hoping this would go smoothly.

The boys stared in shocked surprise as Gerald tossed a lacy pink confection onto the center of the table. He grinned deviously, relishing the sudden cheers that erupted around him. "So who's your boy?" He gloated, dropping down heavily into his chair. A few back pats and shots later before Harold burbled, "So how'd you swing this little beauty?"

"Easy now, I have to keep a few trade secrets. Point is, it has been filched."

A few moments later and a knock came on the door, gruff and resilient. "HAIR BOY, OPEN THIS DOOR!"

"Oh shit, scatter!" Gerald hissed, causing Stinky and Harold to scuffle to escape from the table and into one of the back bedrooms with panicked expressions.

Shaking his head, Arnold opened the door with a smile plastered on his face. Honestly, he'd more or less expected this.

"Arnoldo, outta the way! I need to go lay a fist on hair boy!" Helga hissed darkly as soon as she saw she had an entrance to the apartment. Arnold quickly leaned, pulling the door so it was only open a fraction.

"Good evening to you too. Listen, you can't come in right now. The boys aren't in a good state right now and you'd just make it worse."

"The hell I can't come in!" she retorted, dropping her eyes to the floor. "He took my bra!"

Arnold felt his cheeks begin to burn as he made the connection to the pink lace the boys had darted away with and where it belonged on the girl standing in front of him, wearing a simple tank top and sophie shorts. Her hair was in a messy braid, but still freshly wet from a shower and leaving a streaks of water across her neck.

"That was yours?" he blurted before he could stop himself, mentally cursing his stupidity.

"So he does have it!" She made it as it to dart past him, but her hands hovered just centimeters away from his exposed torso. He noted a blush creep into her cheeks as she quickly pulled her hands away.

"Listen," Arnold muttered, keeping his voice low as he spoke. "There's been…some drinking going on tonight."

"So I can smell," she bit darkly.

"Okay, you need to stop being so rude lately," Arnold hissed back, stepping out into the hall and pulling the door behind him so it was barely open a fraction. He could hear the boys laughing from wherever that had hidden. He couldn't blow his own cover to them. "Listen, I'm not drunk. Almost %100 sober,swear to God, ask me trivia and I can answer coherently."

She eyed him curiously. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I just need my bra."

"I'll get your bra back, if you just promise to not bring this up again."

"You have one minute to try and explain this before I punch you so hard you don't wake up until finals."

Arnold cringed. "Look, I'm trying to get the guys off my back for the next week. They always do this stupid drink week before finals to blow off steam and I never play because I a) don't like the taste of alcohol, and b) I actually need to get good grades to keep my scholarship. Gerald thought he'd be funny and give me cream soda spiked with…something. Like I don't know what cream soda tastes like." He rolled his eyes. "So I went with it. I pretended to get smashed along with them, more or less. I've maybe had two, and then they stopped counting. I figured if I gave them a ridiculous dare – they usually do mild ones-"

"Is that why you're half nude?" she interrupted, gesturing to his chest. Arnold shrugged.

"I can handle shirtless. Don't interrupt, I'll lose track. Anyway, I honestly didn't think Gerald would have any means of success on getting anything from you guys when I dared him."

"You're not helping your case!"

"I didn't think he'd be able to form a coherent sentence when he got there! I was planning on him being a complete fool, and I was sort of banking on you kicking him out before he could do any damage. I was banking on them not trying to rope me into this again because of the absurdity of this situation."

"So," Helga muttered, trying to keep her voice calm as she pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and her forefinger. "You're wasting time pretending to be drunk, so you can make the guys embarrass themselves and not ask you to play anymore because of it. But it backfired…and you need to get me my bra back."

"Okay, and I will!" he hushed her, gesturing for her to keep her voice down. "Do you need it like, now? Or can I get to you tomorrow?" Her look was answer enough, and he sighed, "Just….wait here a second." He took a deep breath, slipping back inside the door.

"Hey guys!" he called, adding the annoying edge back to his voice as he headed down the hall. The guys had darted back into Gerald's room and were gathered around the Tv, now distracted by video games. Harold had the bra on his head like a pair of awkward goggles. Arnold shook his head before plucking them off and placing them on his own, turning on his heel and heading back to the hall.

"Aww shucks Arnold, you can't just steal out trophy!"

Arnold simply turned and made a two finger salute before picking up the pace back to the door. He swung it open, quickly brandishing the bra out to Helga, who plucked it daintily from his fingers.

"You're lucky you're cute or this would have ended badly," she chastised, tossing her braid over her shoulder.

"I'm cute?" he asked curiously, tilting his head to the side.

"Eh, slightly. Sometimes. But not when you're stealing bras and invading personal space, pretending to be a drunk doofus to impress your friends. Just when you're being mister vigilante and telling them NOT to come steal my stuff. You know, when you're actually you."

Arnold rubbed his hand awkwardly up and down his arm. "Sorry…I didn't-"

"Just don't let me catch your paws on any of my stuff without permission," she added with a roll of her eyes, waving him off as she started back down the hall.

"What do you mean permission?" he called after her, hanging out the door.

"If you have to ask, you'll never know," she called back, waving her hand in dismissal before disappearing into her own apartment.

Arnold shook his head, very glad deciphering Helga was not a test he'd be graded on. He was never quite sure he'd pass.