A/N: I love the reviews im getting for this story. Keep them coming guys!


The bullpen was too quiet.

He came in to try and distract himself with work, but for once, the bullpen was silent, still. No one else was here, not even the captain had come in. There was one other person, sitting at his desk in the far corner, clicking away at his keyboard. Not an unusual day at the bullpen on a Sunday. Arnold was tilted back in his desk chair, one arm resting limply on the arm rest, the other up to his lips, being covered by his index finger, his thumb under his chin.

His breathing was deep and slow, much like his mind. He was conflicted, to say the least. He had spent the night out with Helga Pataki, and he actually had a great time. But it wasn't the date that had him searching for a distraction, it was the last moments of the date.

Her attitude had changed drastically in the middle of their date, and he managed to figure out why. The night started out rough, as Helga was being her old, bully-like self, and he figured out that she was still mad at him for standing her up, and he understood, and decided to not push the issue, and try and show her a good time. And as the night wore on, Helga had started to act very differently, she was kinder, gentler, she actually smiled.

None of this threw him as much as what had happened when he had dropped her off. She seemed like she wanted him to kiss her, all the signs were there. She didn't head into her house right away, she seemed a bit nervous, and didn't show any objection when he had started to lean in, in fact, she leaned in the rest of the way after he had stopped to correct himself.

His first kiss with Rachel, if he was being honest, was rather bland. It didn't leave him physically aching for more, as Helga's did. The sound of Rachel's moan didn't haunt him as Helga's did. Helga all in all, haunted him, period. She stayed with him, even after she had left the first time during high school. They were actually getting pretty close just before she left. He was actually working up the nerve to ask her out before the news of her parents bitter divorce started around the school.

By the time it reached him, however, she had already moved. He wanted to call her and talk to her, send her e-mails or letters, keep in contact. But he never did find out how, and Phoebe was always reluctant to give him a way. The only thing he had to remember her by was her yearbook picture, which she never smiled in. He had looked for her on the social network sites, but he never could find her.

And pretty soon, he gave up trying, and went off to college, where he met Rachel, who was everything Helga wasn't. Rachel always had a smile on her face, she was always very sweet, almost sickeningly sweet. Looking back on it, it was exactly like when he had dated Lila in middle school; bland, no substance, no depth, no passion, just companionship.

But, there was always an underlying factor that Rachel possessed that he never could pinpoint, some 'x' factor that drew him toward her. Maybe it was just the fact that they had fun together. But that's all they had was fun. Arnold conceded a long time ago that they had never really 'dated', they had just played around, and he decided to try and spend the rest of his life with her... having fun. But he quickly learned that marriage was a serious commitment not to be made with the soul purpose of having fun.

He loved Rachel, but after a few drinks with Gerald one night, Gerald and convinced him that there was a big difference between loving, and being in love. "You can love a sandwich, or a song, or a painting, but you can only fall in love with another person."

It was that night that Arnold came to the conclusion that he was never in love with his ex-wife. Which to him, didn't make sense. They should have been a perfect fit for each other. They liked the same music, they shared the same interests, they had similar personalities, so to him, they should have lived happily ever after. But in a few short months of being married, he found out that they didn't match up at all.

Their fights were always very bitter. Often times, it was over the littlest things, that always got blown way out of proportion by both him and her. He couldn't get her to understand how much his job meant to him. He had come home late one night, knowing they would get into another argument because of it, only to find a note on his refrigerator saying that she had gone to stay with her brother to get some space, and to think things over.

The last time he'd seen her was at the divorce hearing, and she never even made eye contact with him. She had brought her brother, who was a small time public defender, and he had brought Phoebe, who had just gotten an internship with the DA's office. He managed to keep the apartment they had leased together thanks to her.

Ever since then, his work was his life. He would come in every morning, knowing he wouldn't be getting paid for his over time since his pay was a salary, but he didn't care. With his full attention on his work, he quickly rose up the standings and soon was made the number one at the squad that served the greater part of the tri-county area. But his popularity and legacy never got to his head.

Once things with his divorce were put behind him, the other guys on the squad had tried to talk him into going out to a club with them, but he declined. Some of them were even as blatant as to try and set him up with someone, but he always declined their offers, always having an excuse, whether it be a believable one or not. He didn't know why he was so reluctant to get back out there and try and meet someone, and to be honest, some of the women they had tried to set him up with were very attractive, but all he saw whenever he looked at them was Rachel, and how she had left him.

But now, there was Helga. And just like Rachel was everything Helga was not, Helga is everything Rachel was not. It was a challenge to get her to smile, it took him wits to get her to laugh with him, it took him mental stamina to keep up with her, and in that moment, he realized why he was always so reluctant.

He knew that none of them would make him be his best more than Helga, none of them would challenge him more than her. She was always a mystery to him, always surprising him. And last night was no exception. It wouldn't have been a normal date if he had simply kissed her and they parted ways, and Helga was always far from normal, she never was ordinary, she was extraordinary. So, thinking back on it, her moaning deeply into his mouth as she deepened their kiss, only to shove him away from her a second later should have been expected from her, because it was unexpected.

Helga wasn't predictable.

He had predicted that she would wear something simple to their date, like a knee length skirt and a blouse, or even a simple pink sun dress, but not that. While he was fighting to keep his mind in check, he was also struggling to not pull his coat off and wrap it around her. Because he is a feminist, and whenever he would catch sight of someone ogling her from across the restaurant, when they were clearly with someone else riled him up. Yes, he admitted to himself that he had a hard time not staring at her more alluring parts, and he did feel really guilty about it, and a little dirty.

But whenever he tried to defend his beliefs in the locker room whenever the boys would brag about their latest accomplishments, he almost got into a fist fight, which Gerald pulled him out of. That afternoon, he shared another piece of wisdom with him. "A vegetarian may not eat meat, but they can't deny how good a steak taste. A person who doesn't believe in wearing fur may not believe in wearing rabbit fur, but they still can't deny how soft rabbit fur is."

So yes, Helga did look very attractive and very alluring to him last night, but he would have been attracted to her if she had worn baggy jeans and a sweatshirt. And yes, he did have a very difficult time keeping his sexual desires in check, but since he is a feminist, he told himself that she can wear whatever she wants, whether it turns him on or not.

But, despite having his beliefs put to the test last night, he still felt bad about insinuating that she could only look beautiful if she wore something as revealing as that dress, which couldn't be further from the truth. In all honesty, he thought she looked beautiful the day after he missed their first date, when she was scowling at him and practically spitting in his face, which at the time, only made him feel worse. How I could give up spending a relaxing evening with a woman that beautiful because of my job is beyond me.

And while he still deeply regretted having to stand her up, and while he did feel a little disappointed when she asked him to take her home instead of going to a movie, the night did turn out better than he expected. He never expected going out on a date with Helga to be anything normal, in the course of events they've been through together, normalcy never played a huge part. So, her wearing a skimpy red dress, obviously done only to tease him, and her ordering a sixty dollar bottle of wine, and only taking a few sips, and her kissing him enough to where she actually moaned only to shove him away and slam the door in his face was, in a way, normal... normal for Helga, who wasn't normal.

That's what he liked most about her... she wasn't 'normal'.

At this point, having his thoughts organized enough to where they didn't seem so overwhelming, he let a smirk curl onto the corner of his mouth. He was just about to grab his coat and head home, when the phone on his desk began to ring. Typical that I get a call when I'm about to head home. He sighed and leaned forward, and answered. "Shortman."

"Help, help! I'm being held hostage by a gang of rabies infested pirates! Help me!" A falsetto voice came over the line, obviously joking.

"Hey Gerald..." He deadpanned.

Gerald chuckled in his normal voice, "Hey man, what's up?"

"I don't know, you called me."

"I'm just wondering how my boy's doing."

"I'm fine, why?"

"Well, I got a call about an hour ago from someone who said that they saw you out on a date with a smokin' hot blondie last night at Chez Paris. Now I thought that was ridiculous. I mean, if my best friend had gone out on a date after four years of my trying, then I would be the first to hear about it. So tell me this is just a rumor."

"Yes, I went out on a date last night, is that so hard to believe?"

"Do I really need to answer that question? So who was she?"

"I don't need to tell you everything, Gerald."

"Yes, you do! This guy told me that you walked out with a blondie who had on a tight, strapless red silk dress with a bottle of wine, last night. So you owe me an explanation as to why I've been trying to get you to get back out there for years now, and you go out and find this girl out of nowhere. So I'll ask again, who is she?"

"You're not going to like my answer, Gerald."

"I don't care, it can't be that bad. I mean it's not like you went out with Helga Pataki last night or anything." After Arnold paused to wrangle in his temper, Gerald continued, "Right?" Arnold stayed silent. "Arnold, did you go out on a date with Helga G. Pataki?!"

"Don't criticize her, Gerald." Arnold warned in a low tone, through clenched teeth.

"You finally go out on a date, only to go out with Helga?! Man, what are you thinking?"

"Gerald, you're one more stuck up comment away from being hung up on." He knew exactly why Gerald was upset about him going out on a date with Helga, and it was the one thing that Arnold could never find the guts to call him out on.

"Arnold, I'm warning you, you don't know what she's like."

"And you do?" He challenged.

"I'm not saying-"

"I'm not going to listen to you put her down like this, Gerald. Call me back when you get a sense of decency." He slammed his phone back down, his anger getting the best of him. He reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes, taking deep breaths to calm himself down. He and Gerald had drifted apart from one another over the years, and he only felt bad about it until Gerald decided to call him, reminding him how much Gerald had changed. How Gerald was able to consider him his best friend still was a bit hard for him to grasp, but after this last phone call, he almost wanted to cut all ties.

He was in a much better mood right before he had called him. Now he was just pissed off. He stood up and grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and pulled it over his shoulders. He grabbed his cell phone off his desk and made his way out of the bullpen, and out onto the street toward his car.

Just about to open his car door to climb in, he felt his phone vibrate once in his pocket. He dug it out, and he had received a text message, and as he looked at the sender, his heart skipped a beat.

He quickly opened the message read it. 'Hey, would you indulge me by buying me a coffee? I'd kind of like to talk."

He couldn't help the smile that broke out onto his face as he stared down at the screen. He fell down onto the driver seat and closed the door, then began to type out a reply. 'I'd love to, Helga.'