Author's Note: Good evening, everybody. Barring unforeseen occurrences (like a power outage, my siblings breaking my computer, or a sheer lack of Muse…), there will be a chain of story completing updates from today to Sunday. I'm so sorry I left this story dormant and I'm glad there are still people out there that read and enjoy it. Thank you for your patience and enjoy today's chapter.
Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"
His eyes were dreamily half lidded and it took all of her self control not to grab him and pin him underneath her. She desperately wanted to but honestly, she was more than a little sore from their earlier lovemaking. They had stayed in her shrine for a while, talking between kisses, and she had even read him some of her less horrifying (obsessive, rambling, goo and angst filled…) works, both related to him and not. Although Arnold was her main source of muse fuel, Helga had plenty of material to work with, a dubious benefit of being a Pataki. Well, at least legally. After she had been gone for a week and a half, Big Bob had left a voicemail on her phone, officially disowning her.
It wasn't nearly as painful as she thought it would be. She had mentally disowned herself long ago, when it was clear that all her parents truly cared about were alcohol, greenbacks, and Olga. If she hadn't, then she certainly would've sunk deeper into despair and rage. Still, being formally rejected by the Patakis (at least he had the fucking decency to call her Helga…) had sucked.
But, she wasn't alone. She had Pheebes, Gerald, Sheena, and the whole Shortman family. They wanted her around, even at her bitchiest and her craziest, and they cared deeply for her, some more than others.
Slowly, Helga turned onto her front and sighed contently as his fingers traced swirlingly over her bare back, following her spine. After coming out of their nest, they had shared a bottle of water and some apple slices before heading up to his room. Arnold hadn't bothered to cover himself up (providing a view that she'd never get tired of…) but she had pulled on the purple and pink silk robe that came with her nightie. He had pulled her down into his very comfortable bed with him and there they lay in companionable contented silence…
"What's on your mind, Football Head? You've got that look…" she inquired after turning onto her back.
He sighed and replied, "I think we need to warn Sid about Lila. At least tell him of our suspicions."
"They're not suspicions. They're facts without solid proof yet. I agree with you but there's a chance that he might not believe us. Lila's got a way of putting people under her spell and Sid…well, he's sheep like. Remember how he used to go along with Stinky and Harold, even when they were blatantly wrong and stupid?"
"True but that was a while ago, Helga. He's grown up a lot. All of us have."
"I'll say." she leered while giving him a smoldering look up and down.
Pink tinted his cheeks but he still smiled.
"Hel-ga…"
"Okay, okay. You win. We'll be Good Samaritans and intervention him first thing Monday morning. Happy?"
"Blissful."