A/N: The illusive 'writing-this-gave-me-headaches-of-frustration-and -lack-of-inspiration' chapter is finally here! Oh, and, um... SURPRISE! (you'll see why, just read)

Chez Paris was different, and she definitely wasn't simply imagining it for the benefit of distraction this time, actually she hadn't focussed on it at all. She figured it out the very moment her black pump made contact with the pavement and Arnold offered her his hand, when her mind drifted to the touch of his lips against her fingers in front of the fountain at nine years old. It was clear, absolutely obvious, that the fountain was no longer there and all that stood between the two French restaurants was an open paved courtyard.

Helga felt the warmth of Arnold's fingers intertwine with her own and frowned at the scene before her, "They took away the fountain." she noted with a disappointed tone.

Arnold looked over toward her, his green eyes sweeping her face and noting her discontent, "They moved it." he said with a slight smile, as they headed for the front door of the restaurant, "I'll take you to the new spot one day, if you like."

"Alright" she responded with a giddy smile as the warmth of the restaurant hit her skin, "I would like that."

Emma, the waitress Helga recalled from the lunch date with Phoebe and Gerald, smiled brightly as they entered and she approached them with enthusiasm. "Hi Arnold." she greeted him with easy familiarity, "I saved you the good table, near the window."

"Hi Emma, you didn't need to do that." Arnold assured her with a shake of his head and a friendly smile, "But thank you."

Rolling her eyes at his politeness, she waved him off and set her attention on Helga, "I think I remember you, from the other day at lunch, with Arnold's friend... hmm, Mr Johanssen, is that right?" she asked politely, leaning over the small counter in the entry way to cross their name from the dinner reservations list.

Helga nodded, "That was me, you have a very good memory." she wondered quickly how Arnold and Emma knew each other, and figured it might be best to introduce herself in an effort to figure it out, "Uh, I'm Helga, by the way."

"Oh, nice to meet you Helga. I'm Emma..." she laughed a little and pointed toward her badge, realising that it was fairly obvious what her name might be, "My son is in Arnold's class at PS118."

Quickly, Helga turned to look in Arnold's direction, and he had a sly smile on his face, "Helga, this is Emma, Dean's mother." he motioned between them, "Emma, this is Helga, PS118's child psychologist."

Helga snapped her attention back toward the thin brunette waitress with tight curls pulled into a ponytail and her eyes widened with realisation, Dean had certainly inherited his looks from his mother. Emma beamed at her, "Oh wonderful, have you met my son?" she asked casually, motioning them over toward the free table by the window.

Slipping into her seat, Helga considered the question carefully, "Not personally..." she said truthfully, tapping a finger slightly against the wooden table top, "But I've heard a lot about him."

"I should tell him to go introduce himself, if you're not too busy of course." Emma said, handing them both menu's, "He's a great kid, perfect even, but I worry if his father's abandonment gets to him sometimes."

Casting a quick look across the table, Helga noted that Arnold raised an eyebrow to this, as though he was not previously fully aware of the situation, and Helga reasoned Dean probably didn't like to discuss it. Pursing her lips together, she looked back over toward Emma, "I'm never too busy for a student who wants to talk, I'll see to it that I introduce myself on Monday and if he ever needs to come see me, he's welcome to."

Emma shot her a relieved and grateful look, "Thank you so much." she said kindly, before drawing out her order paper and poising her pen, "Now, would you both like your usual drinks?"

Helga raised an eyebrow, Arnold nodded before looking over toward Helga for confirmation, and she nodded also. Emma smiled and made her way back toward the bar and Helga wondered how the small brunette had managed to become a human filing system.

"So, how is Angela?" Arnold enquired the moment Emma had departed from hearing range.

Helga frowned a little in thought, trying to recall the last time she and Arnold had discussed the young girl, and what had occurred since then. She glanced slowly in Emma's direction, and then back toward Arnold, "She told him." she revealed, biting her lip a little.

Arnold blinked and looked up intently, "She did?" he asked in surprise, letting the menu slide back onto the table for the time being.

Reaching for her own menu, Helga nodded and flicked her eyes over the dish names, "Yeah." she confirmed, darting her eyes away to concentrate on the French wording as she continued, "He's, uh, he's pretending it was heat of the moment, I guess... he hasn't spoken to her about it."

Warmth engulfed her fingers and slid up her hand, her skin tingling where his hand met hers and Helga's eyes lingered on their intertwined hands for a moment before she raised her gaze to look him in the eyes.

"Sorry." Arnold said sincerely, his expression a slight frown as he ran his thumb across her knuckles, "I'm sorry about that."

Helga shrugged her shoulders as nonchalantly as possible, "There's nothing to apologise for." she insisted, and truly there really wasn't, but she couldn't deny how good it felt to hear.

"I was scared, at the time." he continued, letting out a short sigh and giving her hand a squeeze, "Dean's probably scared too."

Eyes falling back to where his hand covered hers, she had to ask, "Of what?"

Arnold dropped her hand slowly, leaning back into his chair and picking up the detailed menu once more, "Of something that no ten year old boy has ever stopped to consider before..." his eyes met hers again, "Love, real grown-up serious love."

Her heart beat a little faster, she had just been a kid, Angela was still a kid, but maybe Arnold had a point, maybe the love she and Angela felt as ten year olds was more than just a childhood obsession, maybe it was proper affection well before others could grasp the concept.

"Maybe he honestly just doesn't like her." Helga suggested, and despite how much she might wish it not to be the case, nobody could deny the possibility.

Sparkling green eyes met hers and, apparently, Arnold begged to differ with her theory, he smiled softly, "Sure." he conceded coolly, "He thinks he doesn't."

Helga rolled her eyes, and bit her bottom lip to stop the ridiculous smile threatening to spread across her face as she bit back, "How can you be so optimistic about everything?" with playful sarcasm.

"I'm not always optimistic." Arnold responded with a sigh, but there was still a smile on his face, "A lot had changed in twelve years, you know."

Emma arrived at that moment, placing their drinks in front of them and stepping back to grasp her pen and paper, "Okay, are you ready to order?" she asked cheerfully as she glanced between them.

Quickly skimming the menu, and realising she'd been far too distracted by Arnold's touch against her fingers to have recalled details on any of the dishes she'd looked at, Helga went for the safe option, "I'll have the Ratatouille, please." she said, after all, it was better than risking a plate of eggs and brains.

Emma nodded and scribbled her order onto the bright white paper, and then looked up at Arnold with a smirk, "And for you, the least French item on the menu?" she teased, already jotting it down as though she was entirely certain that would be the correct answer.

"I don't know why it's on your menu if you complain about it." Arnold rolled his eyes with a laugh, "Tell Jacques I say hi."

Shaking her head, Emma retrieved the menus from the table, "Oh, he'll know it's you without me saying anything." she warned, and made her way across the room again, to place the menus back into their correct storage location.

"I'm sorry, did you just do something to deliberately... anger somebody?" Helga teased, raising an eyebrow at him and resting her elbows against the table top.

Arnold smiled softly at her, "Well, somebody had to start doing it once you were gone." he shrugged, but watched her carefully with his eyes.

Blinking, Helga sat up a little straighter, "Tell me about it..." she said slowly, "... what's been happening since I left?"

"Hmm... I guess the biggest thing to happen to the town as a whole was the new mayor..." Arnold began, pursing his lips slightly as he tried to recollect the prior twelve years, "Gerald and I stopped him building the Tina Park monument, like I said, but he did eventually make one by the highway. He was in power for about two years before Monkeyman ran against him..."

Helga spluttered a little and leaned forward, "Monkeyman?" she asked incredulously, "Monkeyman was our mayor?"

"Still is." Arnold corrected her, "Mayor Baker, is technically his real name, but most people still call him Monkeyman"

Quirking her lips slightly, "Wow..." Helga uttered, she felt like she'd missed a lifetime of change, "What else?"

Arnold took a breath and his expression was thoughtful again, "Sid and Rhonda dated for a few months around that same time, and not long after it ended he and Gerald got into a huge fight. They haven't talked since." he revealed, his nose scrunching a little as he concentrated and Helga couldn't help but notice how cute it was, "I think the whole thing had something to do with Phoebe, actually."

Raising and eyebrow at him, she questioned, "You don't know for sure?" because it seemed odd for Arnold to be so uncertain about anything in regards to Gerald's life, considering how close they had always been.

"No, I don't." Arnold said with a shake of his head, and his face dropped slightly, "I really should, considering Gerald's my best friend, but I was fairly reclusive at the time it all happened."

Helga startled and a little surge of concern shot its way through her chest, alarmed at the very thought of Arnold shutting himself off from the world, it didn't seem possible, "You? Reclusive?" she double checked, not quite understanding what would cause such a thing.

Arnold notably grimaced in response, and Helga immediately regretted even daring to push the subject, but he nodded and began to explain nonetheless, "Grandpa got a call on April the seventh, when I was fourteen, to say that authorities in San Lorenzo had located my parents bodies."

"Arnold, I'm... I'm so sorry." Helga breathed cautiously, her eyes taking in the sadness across his face and the way his eyes stayed focussed on his hands in his lap.

Sparing her a momentary glance, and a tight smile, before returning attention to his lap, Arnold let out a heavy breath, "I wouldn't leave my room for weeks... it was hard to... accept that they weren't coming home." and Helga shifted her hand slightly on the table, causing him to lift one of his own hands to take hold of it. "Actually, all I really wanted was for you to show up on my doorstep and tell me to 'snap out of it, Football Head' and drag me off to play baseball, or something." he said sincerely, holding her hand tighter.

Helga gaped at him, "Surely you didn't want me to intrude your mourning by insulting the shape of your head and demanding you play a sports match?" she insisted with disbelief.

"I guess I'm not so sure about the baseball game." he admitted with a smile that, for the first time since mentioning the subject, seemed genuine, "but I would have done anything to hear you insult the shape of my head." he rolled their hands over lazily against the table, shifting his grip a little, "I almost asked Phoebe for your number, actually, but I chickened out."

Tilting her head slightly, she caught his eyes, "You don't... hate the name Football Head?" she asked with amazement, after all, it was considered an insult, no matter how much she'd never truly meant it... nor how much she honestly adored it.

Arnold's eyes sparkled as he smiled at her, "No." he said firmly to her question, leaving absolutely no doubt, "Not when you say it."

Inwardly, her heart was doing flip flops and her mind was squealing and suffering a happiness meltdown, but on the outside she simply beamed and focussed on the feeling of his hand around hers on the table top, "Okay, Football Head." she shot back playfully.

Stroking along her fingers again, Arnold continued to smile at her, "I know I said this already..." he mumbled sightly as he watched the movements of their fingers, his curling tighter around hers, "but I really missed you, Helga."

Helga bit her bottom lip, raking her teeth along it softly, "I missed you too." she admitted, although it barely came out as more than a whisper.

"So, ah, after Sid and Rhonda..." Arnold cleared his throat, thankfully alleviating the tension, despite how comfortable the brief silence between them had been, "Curly totally backed off, decided to move on from her and accept reality and Rhonda was miserable. It was a while before she admitted she missed him, and he wasn't convinced at first, but they worked it out in time and they've been together ever since."

Helga blinked, "Princess and Curly have been together that long?" she asked, despite clearly knowing the answer, so it was practically unnecessary, but it made her feel better to ask it anyhow. Confirmation was always a good thing to seek, after all.

Arnold nodded and dropped her hand as he noticed Emma approaching with their food from across the room, "You'll have to tell me about your session with them yesterday." he said before she arrived at their table.

"Enjoy!" Emma encouraged with a smile as she approached their seats and placed the plates down in front of them on the table, straightening the tablecloth slightly once everything was in place, "I'll be around if you need me, just make eye contact."

"Thanks Emma." Arnold said politely as she left once more, and they both turned their attentions to their plates of food.

Silence befell the table as they both ate their meals, and Helga felt much better for having the empty space in her stomach decrease with the influx of delicious food. Later, with both of their plates over halfway eaten, Helga slowed her eating and looked over in Arnold's direction once more, beginning to elaborate on her session with the Gammelthorpe's as requested, "I was impressed with Curly and Rhonda with Cedric." she said honestly, "They're good parents."

Arnold finished his mouthful and nodded at her, "You know, I always thought they would be." he mused thoughtfully, clearly having seen them various times at PS118 with their young foster son.

"They're good for each other, and good for Cedric." Helga concluded, taking a quick sip of her drink and smiling, "I'm happy for them."

Smiling back, Arnold shot her an amused look, "I bet Rhonda tried to catch you up on all the gossip." he predicted knowingly, after all, not even Curly and a child could curb the Gossip Queen's tendencies for chatter.

Helga thought back on her conversation with Rhonda, and surprisingly realised she hadn't shared much news at all, "Not really..." she recalled, "Although, she did give me a detailed run down of your romantic history."

She had intended it to be a passing comment, but the moment the words left her lips, Arnold choked slightly on his food and dropped his fork with a clatter, completely startling Helga with his panicked response. "Look, Helga, I don't know exactly what Rhonda told you..." he began with a nervous tone, "but I'm sure she made it clear that I'm, uh, well I'm not known for staying around for long..."

Glancing down at her food, and resting her cutlery against her plate before letting herself face him again, Helga nodded slowly, suddenly nervous about where the conversation may lead.

"I-I want you to know..." Arnold continued, his voice wavering slightly and his face looking troubled, "that this is different, and you might not believe me, but it is... it's you..."

Helga bit her lip hard, and blinked her eyes fast to hold back the tingling sensation as she attempted to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, "I wasn't judging you, Arnold." she informed him honestly, "I'm not exactly the role model for commitment myself."

Arnold raised an eyebrow at her comments, and took a short breath before continuing, "Things never worked out with previous boyfriends?" he asked carefully, as though he wasn't certain if he was treading on sensitive ground.

Shaking her head, and letting out a short huff of air, Helga considered how exactly to properly describe her dating history, "I wouldn't say I've ever had a 'boyfriend'..." she admitted, almost musing to herself in regards to the proper terminology, "Just 'lovers', I suppose is the right word, never anything official."

Across the table, Arnold grabbed for his fork again, using it to idly push food around his plate for a moment before making eye contact with her, "What about us?" he asked, and Helga couldn't quite tell if he was nervous or horrified, "What are we?"

"We are..." Helga began, pausing slightly to think it through, to judge what the best answer might be and eventually she decided upon, "Whatever you want us to be." she immediately grimaced to herself slightly for passing the reigns to him and not being upfront. However, the nightly wedding dreams and the fact that she'd practically already named their children, was probably something better kept to herself, and so she really couldn't trust herself to speak.

Arnold's eyes flicked up from his plate, "I want..." he began, and then paused for a moment to push the food around a little more, all the while Helga was struggling to breathe, "I want you to be my girlfriend." and he looked up and bit his lip nervously, "I want to call you every day, I want to tell everybody about you and I want you to stay the night with me, and even one day, consider moving in with me."

Silence engulfed them quickly after Arnold stopped speaking, and Helga tried to make herself talk but no words were readily available, her brain space was swamped with commands not to cry, or scream, or faint. Arnold shifted in his seat after the silence had been long extended, and his eyes flicked back down to the table, "What do you want?" he encouraged.

Helga blinked, and the sound of his nervous question pulled her back from her wordless state of bliss, "I want everything you just said." she responded, and it was definitely embarrassingly high pitched and excitable, but she couldn't have cared less, "It sounds perfect."

Arnold smiled at her, and then glanced back down at his plate, "I think we should finish this food..." he suggested softly, motioning between their two meals, which had been largely forgetten, other than for pushing food around uselessly, for the previous few minutes of conversation, "and then go for walk around the park?"

Helga nodded, "That sounds perfect too." she agreed happily, her fork poised ready to finish off her meal.