Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold, or anything else that I've mentioned.
Summary: After waking up to a bizarre series of events, Helga finds herself back in Hillwood, after a 3 year absence, and just in time for her senior year of high school. But maybe a particular, lovable, football headed guy can make her return worthwhile. Oh, if things were only that simple, and with Helga and Arnold, they never are.
acosta perez jose ramiro: Lol, I know right? It's so ridiculous but at the same time you're like, "Well...they could be."
Writer25: Thanks! Yeah, it could be that. Who knows at this point.
Anomarlly: Oh, thank God! When I was writing that scene I was dying but then I was like..."watch, I'm the only one out there who remembers this song and thinks her using it would be hilarious."
dvd123: Steve is their love child they don't even know they have. Lol.
MeliiMamiii: Hey, those squirrels are expensive. Girls got to do what a girls go to do! Hahaha
Nikkali44: Thanks! And there is zero chance of this story NOT getting finished. :)
Alwaysanonymous2: Thanks! I'm trying to make them as funny, cute and natural as possible, give the circumstances.
LeDawn: Steve knows what going on. Lol. Yeah, Bob and Miriam could have been doing that. Who knows at this point. And no one suggestion is any crazier than the other!
Helgabuttercup: I'm glad I could provide you with laughter from this story. I try...really hard. lol.
A/N: Well, camping is over, onward to other things! This chapter isn't as crazy as the last. Just...Helga bringing out Arnold's inner nut like she does best.
His name is Arnold, he's a rocker
with a...what ring?
Late September. Sunday.
Arnold exited his car, walking up Helga's drive way, preparing to pick up Steve for the week, as he'd been with her all of the prior week. Normally they just traded off on Monday afternoons when he dropped her off after school, but she had called and insisted that he come and get him, immediately. Whatever he supposed, it wasn't like he was busy or anything, and maybe she had some stuff going on with her parents or...who knew. He hadn't even gotten his hand up far enough to wrap his knuckles on the wood when it swung open, revealing a flustered looking Helga who was holding Steve in her hand as she gave Arnold a fake cheery smile, before shoving the creature into his awaiting arms, "Here, go to your daddy. He is all yours for the week!"
He quickly grabbed him, looking a little taken back at her quickness to dump their pet off on him, "Whats wrong?"
"Well," Helga crossed her arms, "I think he's teething or something because he has started chewing up everything! So! He can get a head start on destroying some of your beloved junk. My stuff needs a breather."
Arnold smirked, relieved that that's all it was, and looked down at the squirrel, "You getting new teeth buddy?" He looked back up at Helga, "So, what you doing?" He poked.
"About to head back to my room and watch a movie," She replied, tilting and leaning her shoulder against the door frame.
"What movie?"
"The new Terminator."
Arnold gaped at her. "And you didn't think to call me?" He implored, not believing that she would even think about watching it without him.
In return, Helga thinned her eyes at him, but still smirked, "I did...to come get our squirrel so I could watch it in peace."
"Well...what if I take him home, and then come back?"
"So you're inviting yourself to my solo movie party now, huh?"
He smiled and nodded, "Yeah, I am."
"Well, Bro Man, my room isn't nearly as spacious as yours, and Olga is sort of occupying the living room with her crafting. How about I grab the movie and go with you?"
He backed down the steps, and held his hand out to her, ushering up his best Arnold Schwarzenegger voice and quoting one of the famous Terminator lines, "Come with me if you want to live."
Helga eyeballed him but smirked, "Said every serial killer ever," He cheesy grinned as she hopped back into the house and proceeded to retrieve a few things before she left with him. "I'm going to Arnold's," She called off to Olga, hoping she heard her, but not really putting too much effort into checking for confirmation.
She had a phone, Olga could find her if she got truly concerned by her absence. However, judging by how focused she was in her knitting-literally, Olga could be an 80 year old woman at times-she doubted she would be seeking out her where-a-bouts.
When they got to the boarding house, Arnold didn't immediately insist on them heading up to his room, he instead skipped off to the kitchen while mumbling some gibberish about having to finish making something or another. Steve jumped from Helga and ran up the stairs, presumably to Arnold's room where all of his food and toys were...and precious family heir looms to chew up.
"Hey Shortman! That was quick. Oh, hey Helga!" Phil greeted from the living room, he and Gertie in the middle of an intense game of Twister.
"Hi Phil," Helga smiled and waved as she crutched past, trailing their grandson to the kitchen. When she walked in she saw Arnold pulling a rolled circular pan of dough out of the refrigerator, sit it on the counter and then pluck out a couple of metal bowls that were covered with plastic wrap from the shelves as well, before footing the door shut and setting everything on the counter. "Whatcha making? Pizza?"
"Yep, I was in the middle of it when you called," He removed all the plastic from the bowls and wadded it up. Helga suddenly felt really crappy for insisting that he come get Steve so quickly, assuming that he was probably just doing what she had been doing...vegging. She watched him as he sprinkled down some grated cheese, then reached into another one of the bowls and laid down some thinly sliced pears, then walnuts, then finally some other crumbly cheese.
"Dang Football Head, this is gourmet," She complimented as she gazed upon his creation, fairly impressed. "All homemade?"
"Oh yeah," He smirked, eyes twinkling with proudness and a smidgen of excitement that she would even ask or even notice. "Fresh off the block cheeses, organic pears, and walnuts and a honey, and whole wheat dough that I've been proofing all day."
"So I take it you like to cook?" She asked watching him slide the whole pie onto this other circular stone thing and then slide it into the nearby oven.
Arnold flipped the light on to illuminate the pizza, turned and leaned back against the oven door, "A lot," He nodded, "Borderline obsessed."
"You should have a chat with Owen sometime. You know he's a professional right?"
Arnold nodded, "Yeah, he owns 'The Cellar' right?"
"Yep. He'd appreciate your franken-pizza," She teased him.
"It is good, trust me."
"Well, I'll let you know after I try it," She nodded to the oven with a smirk.
"It seems weird, but it all works, I'm telling you."
"No worries. I'm kind of used to eating strange things. Both from Miriam and Owen..." She trailed off, kind of amazed at how that worked out, and getting a real kick out of herself over it.
"I like to drizzle some honey over it while I eat it. I think it really takes it to the next leve-" Before he could finish, the pair heard a loud bang come from the living room, along with some disgruntled bickering. "Grandpa? Grandma?!" Arnold perked a brow and called out, "You okay?!"
"We're fine, but your grandmother cheats!" Phil yelled back, and then continued the heated exchange with his wife. Arnold rolled his eyes, trying to hide the little bit of embarrassment that he was feeling over the whole situation going on in there. Those two could be like a couple of children sometimes.
Helga smiled at him, "They are...just precious." She commented, catching a half-way laugh from him.
"Hey Shortman," Phil walked into the kitchen, "We're going down to the senior center for awhile. See you later."
"You're not staying for pizza?"
Phil sideways glanced left then right, looking like he really wanted to shimmy on out of there without having to say no, but he finally just sighed and gave his grandson a bored look, "Son, it's got fruit on it. That's no pizza. It's more or less a pie...or cheese cake even..."
"Grandpa, it is a pizza. And it's delicious!"
His grandfather waved him off, while walking out of the kitchen. That young whipper snapper wasn't going to convince him otherwise, "We'll be back later. Don't burn the house down with your pie."
Helga watched him mosey on out of view before turning back to Arnold and gesturing with her thumb towards the living room, "Your grandparents were playing twister and are now headed out on the town, while my 28 year old sister is at home knitting. Knitting!" She emphasized, "The world has gone mad."
A few more minutes went by of them chatting about nothing before his pizza was finally ready. He plated it for them, drizzling the honey over the slices and dug in. Well, Arnold dug in, Helga was a bit more cautionary, however, she was relieved to discover that he was right, the combination did work, and it was delicious. When she was done, she hobbled into the living room, threw her DVD into the player, and took a seat on the far end of the couch, popping the reclining foot out with the press of the arm rest button and chilled while her host cleaned the food and made a bowl of popcorn for them.
He walked into the living room, carrying the big bowl in one hand and rubbing his belly with the other, "I ate too much," He whined with a beleaguered groan as he grabbed a pillow from the other side of the couch and plopped it down next to her. He then stretched out on the remaining half of the couch, laying his head on said pillow with his head right against her thigh, "Sorry, I've got to stretch out for a bit." He said, sitting the bowl on his chest.
Helga chortled quietly, "By all means," She reached over him, dropped the remote on his gut and then grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl.
Friday.
Helga was standing at her locker, shoving a couple books from it into her book bag for that nights homework while Arnold had run off to take a piss before they left school. Really? Couldn't hold it until he got home? Eh, who was she throw shade. What with her peanut bladder and all. She had just closed the metal door shut when Rhonda Lloyd came gliding up beside her, curiously minion free at that moment and with a look that suggested she wanted something.
"Yes, Princess?" Helga greeted before she could say anything, slinging her book bag over one shoulder and leaning against one of her crutches.
"So, as you know, October is right around the corner."
Helga nodded, "Tends to come after September, agreed."
"And I, as usual, will be throwing my annual Halloween party the weekend before the 31st." The blonde sighed and pulled her book bag around and unzipped the small pocket on the front, foraging through the crap in it, warranting a raised brow stare from Rhonda, "Um...what are you doing?"
"Well..." Helga finally pulled out a slightly mushed protein bar, attempting to smooth it out a little, "It's not a cookie, but it does have chocolate chips and peanut but-"
"-Oh. My. God. Do you really have to be such an asshole about everything?"
Helga shrugged and tossed the snack back into the pocket, "Alright. Cut to the chase then. What do you want?"
Rhonda sighed, "I want to do a themed party this year."
"Yeah, and?"
"I want to make it 80's."
"Uh huh."
"And...I want your help."
Helga snorted and looked off. Well, that was rich. "Me? Help you? Why do you need my help?" She asked, totally playing stupid. There was a reason Rhonda was asking, and she was 100 percent sure she knew why.
The girl thinned her eyes at the blonde in front of her, "You are aware that I can see all of your Facebook photos through Phoebe right? I know you've thrown some pretty on point 80's parties, and I want mine to be epic this year. Now don't get me wrong, last year's party was good, in fact, there was a teen pregnancy from it, so, now there's a bouncing baby boy in this world because of my party and I'm pretty proud of that," She smirked, looking very full of herself.
Helga's eyebrows knitted together a little, "...Okay, that's a little stran-"
"-However," Rhonda continued as if she hadn't even heard Helga talking, "This is my last high school Halloween party, so it has to go out with a bang."
"Bang huh? So you're shooting for...two people to get knocked up this year or wha-Eh, never mind," Helga waved her off quickly, "Yes, I have thrown a few 80s themed parties in my time. The question is though...if I help you, what are you going to do for me?" She crossed her arms, not thinking that Rhonda could give her anything that she would be willing to provide help for. Which meant she'd be off the hook for helping.
Boom.
Though...she did love planning a good party...
But apparently Rhonda came to battle, prepared, because she popped one of those perfectly manicured eyebrows of hers and crossed her own arms, tossing Helga a smug smirk before answering with, "You help me, and I'll get Lila off your back."
Oh, straight for the juggler, princess. Nice move.
Helga rolled her eyes, feigning indifference. "After November, Lila and I are going to have no trouble, because she will have her boy back full time. I think I can manage until then."
"Suit yourself. But you can't avoid the fact that you and Arnold will remain friends after, and I am like a bird in Lila's ear. So...I don't know, if I told her that I...over heard you saying you can't wait to be done with that arrangement or...can't wait to go back to Virginia to your other boy, which, by the way, is a hottie-she'd leave you alone."
Damn, she was good. And one hell of a Facebook stalker to boot. Helga had to admit, it would be nice to go through the next month and a half without the constant stress of Lila prodding her about everything little thing, and then even nicer to have the girl maybe leave her alone afterwards, because Rhonda did have a good point. Her and Arnold would remain friends afterwards. It was very much unavoidable at that point. So, there really wasn't much to mull over. Princess had calculated her moves well, "Alright, deal."
"Perfect!" Rhonda squealed.
"So this party will be at your house, right?" Helga asked, digging into her back pocket for her phone.
"Where else?"
"What's your number?"
"362-7629."
Helga added her to her contact list and then proceeded to shoot her two names and numbers. Rhonda's phone vibrated and she glanced at the text she had just been sent, "Depending on how serious you are about this, you may want to give these two dudes a call."
"And they are?"
"Derek is a killer DJ. He can do any decade mixed with modern stuff seamlessly. Booty's shake non-stop when he's spinning. He'd fly out for the right price. And, depending on how much money you really want to spend making this party stupid epic, Nolan is an interior designer who did a wicked Ferris Bueller furniture make-over on my friend's house for her par-"
"-Who are you?" Rhonda asked, looking amazed...and also, a bit delighted.
Helga sighed, a mild amount of irritation coming out with it. Could she finish a damn sentence around this girl? Shessh! "You are the one that asked for my help. I am helping!"
"This is like...some expensive stuff. How did you afford to do all this at your parties?"
Helga's face deadpanned. Typical Rhonda. "Jeez, just because you don't have millions, doesn't mean you are poor. But that's beside the point, the reason I could do all that, is because my friend Teegan is basically the Cher Horowitz of our high school."
Rhonda's eyes thinned in thought, "Oh, I would probably like her then."
"Anyway," Helga drawled on, "And I suppose, you can have access to my 80s wardrobe if want some ideas or to borrow some stuff."
Rhonda's face lit up, "Oh, totally!"
"But," Helga pointed at the girl, "You better uphold your part of the deal."
The raven haired socialite gave her an absurd look before giving her a casual sneer, "Of course. I run this place."
And that was a very interesting statement from her, because Helga figured that Lila would disagree 110 percent on that. But, she was about to find out how much of a leash Rhonda Lloyd had on Lila Sawyer, that Lila didn't realize she had.
First Week in October.
Arnold came skipping up to Helga as she sat in the library on break, scooting into the chair across from her, "I need your help."
She didn't even look up from her book, simply licking her finger and flipping the page, "Bleach will clean up blood, make sure you bury bodies in un-occupied wooded areas where nobody would hike, I would burn all of your clothes, and make sure you vacuum your car really well."
"What?"
Helga sat her book down and shrugged at him, fighting to hide the smile wanting to ruin her rouse, "Well, I don't know what else to tell you. I've only watched Dateline like twice." He just stared at her. He was so easy to punk out. He always walked right into the best jokes. She started chortling at him while he just shook his head at her and pulled out a folded up piece of paper from his front pocket.
"Rhonda is having an 80's Halloween party this year." He slide the invite across the table for her to see.
"Yeah, I know," She noted, uninterested in the news simply because she was co-planning the entire thing. "I've got one too." Not that she was regretting the decision or anything. Rhonda had kept her word. Since they had made their agreement by the lockers, there hadn't been a single bathroom incident since, and Lila just sort of began acting like she didn't exist. Whatever, she'd take it.
"I have nothing 80's."
"Oh!" Helga clapped her hands together once, "You want me to dress you is that it?"
"Yes," He nodded, looking a little sheepish.
"Because, in spite of making fun of me, you now find yourself in an emergency where you need to look like Cindy Lauper," She mocked his exact words from their movie night the day he was attacked by the seagull.
"Well, maybe not Cindy Lauper. I'm a dude."
"Hmm...yeah...you'd be hideous," She agreed, shuddering a little.
"Will you dress me for this thing?" He gave her his biggest, pleading smile. "Please?"
"Of course, sheesh. But I don't have much of any guy stuff, so we'll have to go shopping when I figure out who I want to dress you as."
"Thank you! You're the best!"
Monday.
Helga crutched out the school doors after a very, very long Monday back to school. And she had just been dragging all day long. She'd stayed up than she had intended, then gone to bed much later than she wanted, then that alarm clock of hers was going off far too soon because of it. When she had met up with Arnold after the final bell, he'd taken her book bag and then told her he had to run back to one of his classes to see a teacher about something or another. She had tuned out after that.
So...tired.
She figured, at her staggering slow pace, by the time she made it across the parking lot to his car, he'd probably be done. But no, oh no...she couldn't even get that far. In fact, she had only just walked out of the doors when she heard somebody say her name.
"Helga Pataki," There was no question mark with it. Whoever it was, knew who she was. She turned around and saw a man in a black suit with sunglasses leaning against the red brick wall.
"Ah. I knew you'd come for me sooner or later," She replied to him, causing him to raise his brow.
"You did?"
She shook her head, "No, of course not. I don't even know who you are." But she figured she'd just give him a hard time anyway, who ever he was, "Have you come to take my soul?"
"What?"
"Because you're dressed like somebody here to take a soul."
Dale removed his glasses and tucked them into his pocket, "I'm special agent Dale Cooper," He then removed his badge from the same pocket and flashed it at her, "I'm here investigating the disappearance of your parents."
Helga's eyes widened, "What?! They're missing?! Since when?" She feigned surprise, which he saw right through. "Okay, yeah I know they're gone. You know where they're at?"
"I was hoping you could shed some light on that."
"Hmm...nope, I've got nothing." As crappy as her parents were, she wasn't about to rat them out to some agent simply because he showed up asking...unless, "What are they in trouble for, exactly?"
"That's classified."
Dammit.
"Is it Meth?"
"No."
"Is stolen goods?"
"No."
"...is it meth?"
"I'm not telling you."
"Alright cool. See you later then," She saluted him and then started crutching down the steps towards the parking lot.
Cooper sighed and removed his trusty hand held recorder from his pocket and clicked record, "Diane...they are an incredibly eccentric family, almost like everything is a joke. The question is...is the joke on me...and whose really laughing. Also, what is your opinion on the unicorn frappuccino?"
Mid-October. Friday.
Arnold came jogging out of the school doors, shouting a goodbye to Gerald, turning and immediately surprised to see his vehicle pulled up to the curb, Helga sitting in the passenger seat wearing a pair of heart shaped sunglasses he'd never seen before and blasting some old school LFO through the stereo. Apparently she'd pulled his car around? As he got closer she tilted her shades and said, "Get in loser, we're going shopping."
He walked to the passenger window and gandered at her, "Your musical taste is eccentric at times, you know that?" He goaded her with a playful smile.
"But I take you back, when you kick me down. 'Cause that's the way uh huh, uh huh I like it..." She sang the lyrics back at him, seeming in response to his question, popping her shoulders to the beat. He snorted and shook his head, very amused by her almost perfect reply to him...via song. Only she would do that...cause, well, that really was the way she liked it.
Uh huh, uh huh.
"Seriously, your Spotify was OD-ing on Biggie Smalls last night."
"I was feeling gangsta while doing some math homework, sue me."
"And where did you get these things from?" He pointed to her sunglasses. "You didn't have them this morning."
"The lost and found box in the library. Pretty tight right? You can find such treasure in that thing." She smirked, and he nodded at her and walked around the car, getting into the drivers seat. He turned the volume down a lot so he wouldn't have to yell over it and put the car in gear.
"So, shopping? Who are we shopping for?" He asked
Helga slowly turned her head towards him, giving him an 'really?' look, "Um...you." She would swear that his mind could only retain information for a maximum of three hours before it went out of sight, out of mind.
She supposed it was a man thing.
But the reason for their trip finally clicked, "Oh, right...Halloween. So who are you dressing me as? George Michael? Lead singer of White Snake? Alice cooper?"
"Nikki Sixx from Motley Crue."
Arnold smiled widely and perked up, "Nice!"
"Which reminds, if we're going to do the Sixx I have in mind, you're going to have to wax your chest."
"What?!"
"Don't what me, I saw you at the river. You're no grizzly Adams, but your patch has got to go if you're to pull off this outfit."
Arnold's hand had subconsciously crept up to his chest, his fingers lightly scratching through his tee shirt, "Well, what are we talking about here?" Helga was quick to pull out her phone and click into her photos, leaning over and tilting the screen so he could see it while they were stopped at a light. His mouth down turned into an impressed scowl, "Yeah, okay he's pretty rocking there...and chest hair free."
"Exactly. It was the era. Just embrace it, Bro Man, and let me dress you."
"Yes, ma'am," He sassed back at her. "But I did notice that he had a nipple ring. Do I have to get one of those too?"
"No."
"Even if I wanted one?"
"No."
Arnold shrugged, side eyeing her with a tiny smirk, "I think it would be killer."
"Seriously?"
"I'm just saying."
Helga rolled her eyes, "You were just complaining about having to wax your chest, but you'd be willing to get a nipple ring because your character has one?"
"Well, these are my man hairs. I'm kind of attached to them."
"Jesus Christ..." His passenger looked away, propped her elbow up on the window seal of the door and placed her palm over her face, "I just can't even with you sometimes."
"All I'm saying is that it would be...shocking!"
Hearing the elation in his voice, Helga turned back to face him, his body language looking excited about the thought of surprising everyone with a random, Halloween induced piercing. But he looked a little too interested in the idea for it to maybe have been one of those random, super enthusiastic, but never pan out ideas that happen in a moment of excitement, which, suddenly made her wonder if he had a little bit of a chaotic, crazy side just like she did. Except for, where she let hers out on a regular basis-hello, hippies and theme parties-he didn't get that luxury, because of who everybody expected him to be. It was an intriguing thought. One that caused her to calculate her next sentence precisely, "If you keep talking about it, when we get back to my house, I'm going to pierce it."
Arnold shot her a quick look, suggesting that she were crazy for suggesting such a barbaric practice, and which she fully expected him to play it off with a 'I'm just kidding, you know, I don't want one, really,'. "Whoa, I don't want a dirty sewing needle jabbed in me or anything." Or any needle, probably. Yeah, she was fairly certain he was all talk.
"Puh-leez. I have a whole body piercing kit, Hair boy," She kept on though, because, A) she really did, and B) she secretly enjoyed making him squirm a little. She'd discovered that on their camping trip.
His response was average enough. A popped brow and a new found interest besmirching his face, "Why? You don't have anything strange going on...or do you-"
"-I've pierced my cartilage a few times, thank you," She cut him off, silencing him with her thinned blue eyes, though it was pointless because they couldn't be seen through her killer shades. "And always hated it, but that's besides the point. I have friends that liked to do crazy things on bored Fridays."
"I'm a friend, it's a Friday, and I'm bored." He shot her one of his ear to ear smiles, "Do I count?"
"Fine," She crossed her arms and gave him a 'we'll see,' snarky little smirk, "We'll do it. And you better not chicken out either."
By that point, they had arrived at the Hillwood mall, though there had been no mention of where exactly they were going shopping. Arnold and just instinctively driven there, and Helga hadn't told him otherwise so he assumed that's where she intended to take him. "I don't chicken out. So what store do I need to park nearest?"
"Yeah, we'll see about that. Nearest the store where the emo kids love to shop, you know what I'm talking about. The name escapes me right now." Arnold nodded and drove to the other end of the shopping complex to the store she was referring to and parking and close as he could get to the mall entrance. They got out, went inside and hung a right down one of the mall's galley ways, journeying all the way until it turned into a popular department store. The store they were after was right before that.
Helga's face morphed into one that suggested she wasn't thrilled about having to go into this place, which made Arnold wonder why they were. "Do you not like this place?"
"Oh no, treasure up in here, for sure. The smell bothers me," She replied before crutching off to the left, towards the men's pant's section. "We need to find you..." She began, but trailed off as she started rifling through some different styles of non traditional pants, "A decent looking pair of leather pants. What size are you?"
"Thirty-two," He replied and walked to another rack, eyes bugging and some of the crazy things that were hanging on it. He plucked a black kilt from the hook and held it up for her to see, "How about this?" He was smiling, and started laughing when she snorted. "I think I can pull it off," He confidently expressed.
"Maybe for saint pats."
He re-hung the garment and continued to sift through, pulling out another wacky item and holding it up, "Okay, now this is just...awesome."
Helga looked up again, seeing him advertising a pair of skinny jeans with the galaxy all over them. "Wow," She smirked, "Yeah, you should definitely where those underneath your kilt like leggings. You'll be sooooo hot," She winked, looked back at her rack and found something that might work perfectly. "Here," She held up a pair of pretty standard black faux leather pants, "These might work, go try them on," She ushered them into his arms across the barrier of clothes standing between them.
"Alright, but I'm going to warn you though, this place may catch fire with all of the sexiness that I bring back out," He jokingly called back to her, "Make sure you're near an exit." Helga could only roll her eyes, sparing him a snarky little come back, because in her mind, it was way too flirty of her to do so. Instead she just hobbled over to the changing area and waited for him to squeeze his butt into those pants.
It was faux leather people, everybody had to squeeze their butts into it. It's just how it works. A few moments later, the changing room door swung open and he strutted out like he was on a runway, stopping in front of her and putting on his best Derek Zoolander face. "Well? What do you think? Hot right?"
Helga laughed, "Did you ever think that there's more to life than being really, really, really, ridiculously good looking?" She quoted the movie to go along with his facial expression. "They fit well though?"
He replied first with a shrug before continuing with, "I'm going to be honest: While they are flippin awesome, they're kind of tight on the goods," He told her, making a half lunging movement to the right in an attempt to create some extra space for the family jewels.
Helga wasn't surprised, and her face clearly reflected that, "That's pretty much how it is with these."
"Oh," He said, doing a half squat motion.
"They aren't gong to break. The boys can bear through one nights worth of wear," She absentmindedly said, before quickly realizing just how awkward that probably sounded to him coming from her. That was something she would have said to Jaime, whom she was leagues closer with, not something she would or should be saying to a friend.
No more talking about Arnold's junk.
But Arnold actually snickered, appearing like he wasn't weirded out at all by her choice of words, choosing to hold his arm out in a grandiose gesture and sang, "First I was afraid, I was petrified, thinking...my goods might be squeezed to death between my thig-"
"-Arnold!" Helga barked in a elevated whisper, turning a nice shade of red as she started looking around, hoping nobody had heard him, relieved that it appeared as if nobody had.
"Oh come on, that was hilarious and you know it."
"You have your moments, I'll give you that," She admitted, shaking away the blushed embarrassment and giving him a tiny smile, before crossing her arms, "So, are you fine with the pants or not?" Trying to move them away from any other subject than his junk.
He quickly nodded, "Yep."
"Fantastic. What size shoe do you wear?"
"Twelve."
Helga's left eyebrow rose up, "Well that's convenient."
"What is?" He perched his hands on the his hips.
"I actually have a pair of Jaime's Doc Martens floating around in my closet somewhere. They'll go great with these pants. I also have the suspenders and plenty of hair metal bandanas to choose from. That just leave's the wig, which we can get closer to Halloween."
Arnold gave her a double thumbs up and his, what had become famous, lopsided smile, "So I can get out of these now?"
"Yeah," She motioned him back to the dressing room, which he skipped away to gleefully. A few minutes later the returned, shorts back on and pants slung over his right shoulder, ready to hit the check out counter. "Tell your junk not to get too comfy in those shorts, we have to do a trial run of everything when we get back to my house." God...dammit! Shut. Up about his junk already.
"Noted," Arnold snickered, "I must suffer for my art."
When they got back to Helga's house, she corralled them to the second floor, which had a much more reasonable flight of stairs than his boarding house's steep, tower of terror bullshit death fall situation. Needless to say, she could easily hop the ones in her house on a single foot, not needing to be chauffeured to the top by him. The whole reason for going upstairs was that the house had this whole spare bedroom that neither Olga or Owen had done anything with, which meant when Helga moved in, it became her personal storage unit, catching all of the stuff she didn't want in her room. And it's average extra bedroom closet became her 80's nook.
They walked into the bedroom, him carrying his bag containing his newly bought pants, and tossed it on the bed, watching her hobble over to the closet and open in. "Take it in, Hair Boy, the greatest decade," She opened her arms, palms up, gesturing him to look upon her collection in wonderment. At which he did, walking up with his mouth parted and his jade eyes possibly even greener with a little envy. He suddenly wished he did cool things like that.
"So, you weren't kidding about this," He rhetorically said, his eyes coming to rest on everything from 80s band tees, ripped tees, dresses, tops, jackets. He grabbed one thing and pulled it off the closet rod, eyes bugging out. "Is this a-"
"-Mini skirt made of snake skin? Why, yes, yes it is," She finished for him, "And it's actually one of my favorites," She continued as she plucked it from his grasp.
"Where did you even get that?" He asked, watching her hang it back in its spot.
"A yard sale in my neighborhood. Alright, go put on your pants again," She waved him off, bending over further in the closet and grabbing a rubbermaid container, dragging it out into the bedroom floor. Arnold nodded and fished his pants out of the bag. "Bathroom is down the hallway."
While he was away changing, Helga had opened up that bin and began laying and assortment of studded belts, bandanas, leather gloves, studded bracelets, the pair of suspenders she thought would work and some other stuff out on the bed. Arnold finally walked back into the bedroom, amazed at what all she had laid out for him. "Shirt off," She ordered him, grabbing those suspenders and limping over to him.
"Oh, right," He nodded and pulled the garment over his head, tossing it casually over to the bed. Helga had to catch herself from oogaling a little bit. Yeah, she'd seen him shirtless at the river, but she had effectively had her attention diverted by other things going on, and seeing him up close was a little different. Phoebe had been right, sports and third block weigh lifting class, had been kind to him, and he definitely had a rocking body because of it. She swallowed, and inwardly rolled her eyes at herself for making a big deal about it. She was a typical teenage girl, who tended to check out guys who she found attractive or who otherwise had great bodies on a pretty regular basis. Seriously, she wasn't going to even try to pretend she was above all that. Ha!
So, that meant, she found Arnold attractive, right?
Oh shut up.
He smiled a little at the mistiness that her eyes had become awash with. 'Like what you see don't you?' he wanted to call her out with. He wouldn't though, because he knew how it was. She window shopped, just like he did. Didn't mean anything, other than she was a normal teenage girl, just like he was a normal teenage boy.
She finally cleared her throat, "Alright, Hair Boy," She said, sounding as normal as ever, "Have you got two buttons on your inner waist band on each side by any chance?" She asked. He bit his lip and ran his thumb up underneath the the rim of his pants, indeed feeling two sewn in buttons as she described.
"Yep."
"Oh good, then these will work," She threw the suspenders that she was hold over his shoulders, "Fasten them into the loop," She instructed him as she walked around to his back and began doing the same thing with the two back buttons. He did as he was told, and after some fussing with it, got the split connectors buttoned in. Helga had already limped away and grabbed a belt from the bed, along with a fabulous red bandana. She handed him the belt, and he snaked it through all for all of the loops on the pants. After he was finished with that she secured the bandana around his neck, letting it 'V' down to his chest.
It was at that moment that Owen, who had arrived home at some point while they were up there, was walking by on his way to the master bedroom, and stopped, staring into the spare bedroom in intrigued puzzlement. Arnold and Helga looked over to him, "Oh, hey Owen," The boy greeted him. Owen merely shifted his gaze from one to the other, a devious smirk breaking out on his face. And Helga held her breath because of what might come flying out of his mouth.
"I'm not even going to ask," He finally commented, surprising the hell out of her, and went to walk off, but stopped and looked back at Arnold, "If she hurts you, the safe word is 'duck fat', just yell. I'll rescue you, judgment free."
"Unbelievable..." Helga rolled her eyes.
"Or just throw water on her, that works too," Her brother-in-law winked, made a clicking sound with his mouth and hurried away to his bedroom.
"Ignore him," Helga shook her head and grabbed some studded leather gloves and bracelets from the bed, "He thinks he's so funny."
"You two obviously have a crazy amount of inside jokes because I never know what you are talking about," Arnold confessed, feeling way out of the loop with everything that just happened.
She returned to him and handed him the gloves to slip on, "It's for the best, trust me." He fisted each finger-less glove on, flexing his hands and snapping on each wrist latch. She then snapped on the leather studded bracelets. "Alright, test run. Lets go take a look in the bathroom mirror." They walked to the washroom and he eyeballed his reflection with her.
"Nice!" He said with a huge smile. He started making a couple rocker hand signs and sticking his tongue out in a 'Ah' fashion. "I look good. Actually, you know what I've got?" He side eyed her with a deviously little smirk forming on his lips and a twinkle flickering in his eyes.
Helga was about to ask 'what' before she realized she was walking right into his trap. Her eyes widened quickly, "Don't you-"
"-I've got looks that kill!" He began singing, turning towards her and doing an impressive air guitar in his new fangled get up, "I've got looks that kill!" He sang the guitar riffs too. Helga was attempted not to laugh, and trying her best to look as annoyed as possible at his second symphony of the day, but was failing miserably, "I'm a cool, cool, black! With moves like a cat!" She finally reached up and clamped her hand over his mouth, by then laughing.
"That's enough from you today." His eyes scrunched up from the smile that was being hidden behind her hand. And next thing she knew, and quite frankly, she should have known better, she felt his tongue dart out and lick her palm. "Ew!" She yanked her hand away, giving him a dirty look, "You nasty little..." She trailed off as she wiped her hand on his arm.
He crossed his arms and propped his rear back against the vanity, "So, are we going to finish off this outfit with a nipple piecing or what?"
"You're still thinking about that?"
"Yep."
"Really?"
"Really."
"Alright, fine," She thinned her blue eyes up at him, giving him her, 'alright, lets go then' face, "Give me two seconds," She pointed at him and limped out of the bathroom. Arnold watched her leave and in her absence, decided to take a seat on the closed seat toilet to wait for her to return with, whatever it was that she went to retrieve. When she walked back into the bathroom door she had this she was carrying something that little like some surgical clamps, along with a small plastic case. "Buckle up, Football Head, you aren't chickening out now," She said, popping that case open, pulling out a little packet, tearing it open and removing a big ass needle from it.
30 minutes later.
"Okay...I'm ready," He winced out, squeezing his eyes shut and making a lemon face. Helga rolled her eyes and leaned in with the clamps, grabbing his nipple with them and again at the last minute he shouted, "Wait, wait, wait!" His nerves effectively chickening him out.
"Crimeny!" She huffed, "Either you want to do it or not?! Make up your mind already!"
"I do, I do, I do!" He urgently insisted for the fourth time.
"Yeah, you've been saying that a lot! I feel like we're married by now!"
"Sorry! Just get it over with," He squeezed his eyes shut again.
Helga exhaled, "For real this time or what? Seriously, we can get a clip on if it's that big of a deal."
Arnold shook his head, "No, no, I want to go hardcore on this," He reaffirmed, "Let's do it! Whoo!" He said loudly, trying to get himself pumped up and less psyched out. He started flexing his arms rhythmically.
Helga shrugged all 'what-the-hey' and leaned in with the clamps again, "Alright, well, bombs away then." She announced, grabbing a hold of the nipple on his left pectoral as he took an overly deep breath, clenching his teeth, while his balled up fists went to his knees.
Then, with a little bit of force, she plunged the needle through his tender flesh, him yelping a slow building, "Ow!" feeling the quick sting, face reddening, and his hands subconsciously flying out and clutching her around her thighs, unsure if he was planning to push her away, or looking for something to squeeze the pain out with.
Helga's attention snapped down to her legs and then to him, "Hey bro man," Arnold looked up at her, "Unless you want me to have to explain away some very suggestive bruises, I suggest you let go." He glanced down to his hands, realized what he was still doing and yanked them away like she had suddenly severely burned him.
"Oh, uh...my bad."
She chuckled, while she removed the clamps and held the needle in place while reached over to the vanity and fished a ball-closure ring out. The needle was hollow, purposefully and she slipped the ring through it, pulled the needle out the bottom, slipping the ring in its place. She snapped the ball in place and finally stepped away from him, "Your tolerance for pain is weak sauce, Football Head."
"It's my nipple for crying out loud. Although, since I've been hanging out with you, I feel like my tolerance should be increasing," He mused while looking down to do an exploratory gaze of his new fashion statement, right hand coming up to poke it, only to catch a scolding from Helga.
"Don't touch it. You'll irritate it," She warned.
In reply, Arnold threw his hands up in surrender, "Okay, okay. So, it'll be all healed up by next weekend?" He planted this hands on his knees to avoid even subconsciously wanting to reach up and touch it.
"It should be good. What do you think Lila's going to think?"
His eyebrows rose up his forehead, thinking about that for the first time since he got the air brained idea to do it, "She's going to freak."
"Ah, cool. Nothing like a good lover's quarrel. Keeps you feeling alive," She picked at him, and he laughed, grimacing a little as it jiggled his very tender wound.
"She'll live," He replied.
"Eh, its not like its forever. Just like a wax, which you've got to do too."
"Yeah...I'll get right on that for you," He retorted sarcastically. It was then that Helga noticed the mild grimacing that was starting the fade into his face, and she could only imagine how painful piecing something so...filled with nerves could be, but hey...he asked for it. Repeatedly!
But, she was no bitch, she wasn't going to let him suffer because of his ridiculous choices, "You want a pain killer?"
His eyes darted up to hers, looking like she'd just thrown him a life jacket, "Yes!" He said quickly, causing Helga to laugh a little. "Jeez, we sound like a bunch of drug addicts don't we?" He quickly added.
"Eh, yeah."
A/N: We have a Halloween party coming up. That's should be fun and chocked full of shenanigans! And lets see what Lila thinks of Arnold's new jewelry.