Hiya readers! I hope you all enjoyed the latest update, I had a lot of fun writing the last chapter, especially the shopping scene. It was one of those things that practically wrote itself lol. This update on the other hand was a bit of a challenge for me, but hope you like it regardless. This chapter is kind of a transition to the next arc of the story, which I'm guessing you all will probably catch on to as you read on. Anywayyyy enough of me blathering on, enjoy! All cast and characters of Hey Arnold! belong to creator Craig Bartlett.
Chapter 12: Swing with me
Helga and Arnold enjoyed what was essentially an uneventful but pleasant dinner together. After they had exited the ferris wheel and left the Harvest Festival, Gerald's itinerary directed that they go to a new restaurant in the heart of the downtown area not far from the pier. It was sort of a hipster joint, the internal décor featured a lot of potted foliage and ivies that climbed terraces set around the dining area, but despite the natural nuances was still very sleek and modern in its architecture. The place was adorned with edison bulbs and lots of low lighting that made for a very cozy atmosphere. A good looking older woman, probably in her late twenties, greeted them at the door and informed them that they had a reservation made under their names before guiding them to a nice table with plush suede seats. The seating they had found themselves in was just one big booth with a table in front and was pretty private, the big leather seat reminded Helga a bit of a clam shell in its appearance.
The two blondes shared an appetizer together, and dined on exquisite food that was advertised as being made using the freshest local ingredients. The two each ordered a different kind of artisan panini, which would normally be a bit underwhelming, but the use of high quality ingredients and house-made aioli and sauces made them quite enjoyable. Both of them were quite surprised to find out that a card had been left on file to pay for their entire meal. The waitress insisted that the cardholder had made sure to leave a decent tip, but Arnold still felt obliged to leave some money on the table. They had finished dinner almost right on schedule, which was surprising since they had bordered on overstaying at the Harvest Festival after deciding to enjoy the ferris wheel together.
Helga was surprised when very shortly after they settled their bill, while sitting and chatting in their booth, to receive a text from Rhonda Lloyd.
"Are you two close to being done eating?" the message read.
Helga's fingers quickly tapped out a response: "Yea, just finished. Why what's it to ya?"
A message in response came almost instantly: "Always the charmer ;) finish up and come outside"
Helga groaned audibly, earning her a questioning look from Arnold, "I think Rhonda is somewhere around here, she's saying she wants me to come out."
"Rhonda? Why is she here?" he asked.
"Fuck if I know Hair Boy, but Rhonda isn't the type to just go away when she's unwanted."
Arnold felt a bit annoyed, but clearly he wasn't the only one who preferred some distance from her after the encounter earlier at the boutique. They excused themselves from the booth and went outside to find a very non-inconspicuous fancy black car parked right outside. Like clockwork, one of the heavily tinted windows nearest to them rolled down.
"Helga darling, over here!" Rhonda beckoned. Helga sighed and looked at Arnold.
"Look I dunno what she has planned, but knowing Rhonda the sooner I talk to her and get this over with the quicker she'll leave me alone."
Arnold nodded and Helga quickly walked around the vehicle, opened the door and slid onto the sleek leather interior inside. She closed the door and immediately shot her svelte friend a dirty look.
"Alright I'm here, wanna explain to me why you're crashing the date you forced me to go on in the first place?"
Rhonda was gazing at herself in a handheld mirror but quickly snapped it shut, "Oh please, as if I have to force you to spend a Saturday night with Arnold Shortman. Fortunately for you, this is just a pop-in. I have some clothes for you," she stated simply.
"Uh, okay? You were supposed to drop them off at my house, remember?" Helga asked.
"I did drop them off, everything but this anyway. I picked this one out after you left. The fit should be perfect for you, I made sure of that," Rhonda said before shoving one of the fancy paper bags from the boutique at Helga. "You'll be needing this little number before you two head to the Circle Theatre."
Helga pulled the tissue paper from the top of the bag and eyed a wad of black sequins inside, "Criminy, more clothes?! What do I need this for? I mean, the Circle is pretty lame and old, wanna explain why I need to dress up just for that stuffy, old place?"
Rhonda smirked, "You'll find out once you get there. Now I know changing in the back seat of a car isn't exactly ideal-"
"Oh fuck no," Helga replied, "I am NOT changing back here, what if someone sees me?"
"Helga no one is going to see you. Hell, I'm not even sure if the tint on these windows is street legal. Besides," Rhonda leaned forward and pressed a button that made a window rise between the two girls and the driver, "Your little boyfriend is gone, which means that Gerald already found him. You'll look ridiculous if he's all dressed up and you're wearing that."
"Arnold's dressing up too?" Helga asked softly, imagining him in more adult, more formal attire. The thought excited her, she saw how good he looked at Rhonda's party, but this was for her, for them. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, after all.
"Alright, fine," Helga said. "But the second one of these creeps off the street starts drooling on the window I'm out of here," she said and started slipping out of her jeans.
As she changed, Rhonda suddenly remembered a vital detail, "Oh! You'll be needing these too. Not that those boots don't give you a sexy dominatrix-vibe, but these will fit the theme much better." Rhonda pulled a pair of black pumps out of a small bag on the floor of the car.
"Theme? Christ, what the hell are we walking into, exactly?" Helga asked as Rhonda zipped the back of her dress.
"I already told you, you'll find out when you get there," she looked at Helga now clad in the sequined black dress. "Now put these on."
Helga snatched the shoes from her friend and slid them onto her feet, afterwards her friend handed her a pair of black satin elbow-length gloves.
The blonde eyed the scraps of fabric suspiciously but obediently slid them over her hands and up her slender arms, "Now there's gloves? You've gotta be joking."
Clearly there was no joking to be had as Rhonda suddenly grabbed at Helga's long blonde hair, using her fingers to comb through it. Helga winced and tried protesting, but Rhonda ignored her as she used her fingers and a can of hairspray to make soft curls in her golden locks.
"Jesus fuck Rhonda, what the hell are you doing to me?!"
"I'm just fixing you up a little bit, now quit squirming around so much I'm almost done," Rhonda replied.
After a while Rhonda seemed satisfied and suddenly pressed the edge of her hand to Helga's forehead to shield her eyes before unleashing the contents of a hair spray can over her head.
"Shit he's back. Okay, take this or you'll freeze your ass off," the raven-haired girl said as she handed Helga a white fur shawl. She observed her for a moment before motioning her to leave. "Ugh I guess this will just have to do, now have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't!" Rhonda instructed before knocking on the glass in front of her, urging the driver to open the rear door for Helga.
Helga coughed, choking on the aerosol fumes before stumbling out of the vehicle, "Well that sure gives me lots of options for the night."
Rhonda chose to ignore her comment, "Have fun Helga! Be sure to text Phoebe or myself that you've made it home safely."
Before Helga could come up with a snarky reply, the car tore away leaving her on the damp street. What a goddamn nuisance, she thought as the car disappeared from in front of her. A new vision met her eyes, and she had to make herself snap back into a state of normalcy before inching forward. She saw Arnold, clad in black slacks and a tight fitted black dress shirt with red suspenders and a matching silky bowtie. On his feet were black and white wing-tip shoes, the beanie he was wearing before was gone, replaced with well kempt and slicked back blonde hair. He looked positively dapper, and as soon as their eyes met Helga found herself surprisingly excited for what the rest of the night might hold for them.
Arnold stared wide-eyed at his blonde companion. Helga looked amazing. Even in the soft light of the street lamps shining above, he was absolutely taken by her. It was strange, as she emerged from behind the fancy Wellington-Lloyd car, it was almost like he was seeing her for the first time. Time felt like it had all but stopped, as if someone was squeezing the very concept and only allowing the seconds to barely trickle through their fingers. He inadvertently thought about the pink blur that had been taunting him in his dreams for quite some time now, and he was strangely feeling a bit at peace with it. The dense pink mist as well as Helga no longer felt so elusive to him.
Finally, as if someone slammed a finger on the "play" button of life, everything resumed at it's normal speed and Helga stood before him, a small smile painting her porcelain face.
"You look lovely," he said as pink spread across his face.
"Ya know you don't clean up so bad yourself, Football Head. You look rather dashing in that get-up," Helga said with a smirk. Arnold smiled but couldn't help rolling his eyes at her.
"Well, shall we?" he asked and offered his arm to Helga. She blushed, snaking her arm around his and they walked together down the street towards the Circle Theatre.
Criminy this thing is tacky, she thought as she investigated the white mink around her shoulders. Helga thought that fur was pretty disgusting in general, but so far the night had gone off without a hitch. She could be a good sport, and at least it was stopping her from freezing to death.
"Did Gerald give you any hint of what we were supposed to be doing? We look like characters out of a thirties gangster movie," Helga remarked.
"Nah, he wouldn't breathe a word."
"Figures. Those smug bastards know I don't like surprises," Helga murmured.
They walked together in silence for a moment, and were now only a few blocks away from their destination. There was a question Arnold had been wanting to ask since the ferris wheel ride, but he had been struggling to word it correctly. In actuality it was a question he had long wanted to ask since before the Harvest Festival, even. He knew now, at least right this very moment on the street, wasn't the time to ask. That didn't do anything to calm his nerves though. He was honestly feeling thankful towards Gerald, Phoebe and Rhonda. Tonight felt totally different for him as he was so profoundly intoxicated with just the atmosphere that surrounded Helga and himself. The bright orb suspended above them that was the moon cast silver light down onto them, illuminating Helga in such a striking way it took everything in him not to stare at her like a bumbling idiot.
"Something on your mind, Arnold?" Helga asked softly.
Arnold didn't know how to respond, there was so much on his mind but this wasn't the time nor the place. He had a feeling that he would know exactly when his question would be appropriate, he would have to follow his gut - something that he had refused to take heed from in a very, very long time.
Arnold simply shook his head and smiled, "N-no, nothing. Just kinda anxious or something you know? It's the not knowing that gets me with this, they could have at least told us what we're walking into."
Helga suddenly stopped and gave a modest smile with eyes fixated on the pavement, "I get it, trust me. And I don't know what it is but I just feel like...I dunno, like something is about to happen. That probably sounds stupid, and I honestly can't even begin to put my damn finger on what that 'something' might be. Do you get what I'm saying?"
The blonde boy was taken aback at her words, "Um, yeah, actually. I do." He grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Helga was surprisingly perceptive, though something could only happen if he could build up the courage to make it happen.
They had finally arrived at their final destination, and were relieved to see they weren't overdressed for the occasion. Women with finger curls and long stemmed cigarette holders stood near, many accompanied by gentlemen in zoot suits and fedora or boater hats. The distinct sound of swing music could be heard from outside the venue as the muffled brass instruments reverberated the notes of "Minnie the Moocher." The two stood in line and steadily proceeded forward. When they finally approached the bouncer taking tickets from the attendees, Arnold reached into the pocket of his slacks and handed two stubs to the bouncer.
Helga scoffed before they entered the large, extravagant doors of the Circle Theatre, "Wait, you had tickets but didn't even know what they were for?"
"Gerald just handed me the tickets, all they had were numbers and 'Swing into the Past' printed on them. That's not exactly a lot of information for me to go off of."
"Fine whatever, you're right. Let's just go inside, it's cold out here," Helga conceded.
Arnold pushed the large mahogany door open and held it for his date, Helga walked through the threshold with a bit of hesitation - she really didn't like surprises, she wasn't lying about that. Her eyes widened at the sight of what looked like a cocktail party from something like eighty-five years ago. Perfectly coiffed hair, elbow length gloves and tight-fitting, floor length satin dresses were abundant among the ladies of the crowd. The men were fitted into pinstriped suit jackets, suspenders and collared shirts. The music was almost ear splitting as the sounds of horns, drums and a piano bounced off from the arched ceiling and marble walls of the theatre. A Helen Forest sound-alike sung into a vintage looking ribbon microphone, and cradled it in a very sultry, almost seductive fashion.
Helga found herself in an almost trancelike state observing the woman perform. Her timbre and vibrato was like nothing she had ever heard before. She felt her breath leave her as Arnold suddenly squeezed her hand in his and swung her under his arm. A smile crept across her face, she had no knowledge of the form of dance from this era, but she didn't care. She felt free and lithe in Arnold's arms. The two swung themselves around each other wildly, and smiled and laughed in a way that was almost foreign to them. A dark cloud had hung over the two so much before that it was almost strange feeling so carefree and jovial together now. There were small tables set out on the floor, and there was no differentiating where people were sitting and socializing or tearing it up dancing. Normally this would seem to be chaotic, but it worked surprisingly well.
Soon the music stopped for an intermission and the two blondes, after several minutes of spinning and dancing in each other's arms, made their way to one of the small tables and sat. Neither of them had really had any idea of what dance was appropriate for this era of music but they couldn't care less. They were both out of breath, but had smiles plastered on their faces. As they took their respective seats, Helga and Arnold looked up at one another and immediately started laughing.
"Okay, I know I was skeptical at first, but this is actually pretty cool," Helga said.
Arnold smiled, "Right? I'm kinda surprised those three came up with this idea. It doesn't really seem like something that it's any of their wheelhouses. Hell, it's not really in mine either, to tell ya the truth."
"Yeah, mine neither. Gotta admit this shindig isn't half bad."
"Oh?" Arnold remarked and raised an eyebrow. "Enjoying my company, are we?"
Helga blushed and a scoff left her lips, "A-as if! I just like the music, that's all."
Arnold's index finger found its way under her chin and gently lifted her face, raising her eyes to meet his.
"I think you're lying," he said as a lopsided smile spread across his face. He leaned in close, making Helga's face redden deeply. He chuckled softly as her hardened expression melted under the mischievous gaze of his mossy eyes. "I think you like me quite a lot."
This cocky bastard, Helga thought to herself. The kid was nothing if not surprising. Still, as much as she loved when he fixated on her, she wasn't keen on letting him have the upper hand.
"Do I? Wanna tell me what it is I like about you?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow and a smirk.
"My unwavering charm and devilishly handsome looks, obviously," Arnold replied without missing a beat.
When did he get so fucking witty? Helga questioned silently. She didn't have much more time to ponder the annoying musings of sixteen year old Arnold, as the synapses in her brain that indicated pleasure started firing rapidly. Arnold's lips met with hers, his hand moved from her chin to instead cradle the side of her face. She allowed her eyes to close, and reclaimed her mind from the vice-like grip of passion that stopped any conscious flow of thoughts. Her mouth kissed him back, and neither one of them dared pull back from the other, instead allowing themselves to remain magnetized for several moments. When their lips did finally part, Helga felt a warmth from her core that emanated throughout her extremities, and down to her fingertips. Arnold placed his elbow on the table and used his hand to support his head. He stared at her intently, and she felt herself shift in her seat a bit under his intense gaze.
"What?" she asked.
"I think you know what," he answered simply.
Helga was confused. Why couldn't he just come right out and say what was on his mind? He had a habit of dead-locking her with his eyes, as if he was trying to communicate telepathically to her. She didn't understand his aloof nature, it only made her feel nervous.
Helga sighed, she was growing tired of these guessing games, "I actually don't, Football Head. If you've got something to say spit it out already."
"You really don't know, huh?" he asked quietly as a smirk spread across his face. The band was setting themselves back up on stage, and the lights started dimming indicating that their brief moment of silence was about to come to an end. "Rain check."
"You've gotta be kidding me-," Helga started, but was cut off by a trumpet sounding off from the stage. She growled in frustration. Their timing really was always shit, wasn't it?
Helga needed something to take the scratch out of her throat, to her relief she saw a bar set up on the other side of the dance floor, she went to stand and leaned close to Arnold's ear.
"I'm gonna grab a drink, you want anything?" she asked loudly.
Arnold shook his head no, and watched as his date disappeared into the crowd. Helga really enjoyed the vintage vibe around her. Her idea of a party was a bunch of drunk teenagers making out or rough housing and doing stupid shit like throwing firecrackers at eachother or playing beer pong. This felt so sophisticated and adult without feeling stuffy or boring. She approached the bar and there were several people gathered around drinking out of wine glasses or little clear glasses half-filled with brown liquid. One side of the bar had an actual pyramid of filled champagne glasses, Helga wondered if that was purely for show or if they were for the attendees. She stared at the glasses, but caught a glimpse of the bartender from out of her peripheral vision.
"What can I get for ya, miss? I see you eyeing the champagne over there, care for a glass?"
It suddenly occurred to Helga that nearly every person around her was five to ten years older than her at least. He didn't seem suspicious of her, if he wanted to card her she could just say she didn't have an I.D. with her and decline. No harm in trying.
"Uh sure, I'd take a glass," she said with a nod.
The bartender took two glasses from the stack of glasses and handed them to her.
"Better take two, I'd hate to make a lady make several trips just for this stuff. Between you and me, it's actually just sparkling wine, and it's the cheap stuff. But it's on the house. You want anything else?"
"A cup of water, please."
He handed her a small paper cup of water, she downed it and then chased it with one of the glasses of fizzy liquid, consuming all if it's contents quickly.
The bartender chuckled, "Thirsty huh? Here, take one more. If you're wearing heels like every other gal in here you're not gonna want to be shoving your way through that crowd."
"Yeah sure, thanks," she said and started drinking from her second glass, slower this time but not by much.
Helga grabbed the remaining glass, thanked the bartender one last time and made her way back to the table where Arnold was sitting. Her own words from earlier: 'I just feel like...I dunno, like something is about to happen' reverberated around her mind, but she did all she could to ignore the sentiment. If she thought about it too much, certainly she'd jinx it. They watched the singer perform her songs with sensual overtones sprinkled amongst the musical numbers, captivating the audience in front of her. Helga could definitely see the appeal of a concert with music from this era, who knew the trumpet could be anything other than annoying? She could feel herself growing tipsy, though she didn't mind, the alcohol was amplifying her joy and stifling her nervousness. When was the last time her and Arnold went on an actual date, anyway? Long before she originally moved to California, that much she knew for certain. She sipped a bit from the glass in her hand, Arnold gave her something of a curious look as she did, unsure if it was sparkling cider or if she somehow managed to acquire actual alcohol from an open bar without an I.D.
Helga could feel Arnold staring at the glass in her hand, and assumed that it was because he was just wanting to drink it's contents.
"Hey Football Head, you want some of this champagne? They were giving them out at the bar!" Helga yelled to him over the music.
Normally, Arnold's reaction at any kind of party would be to accept anything, alcohol or otherwise, without much question. He had been living in a bit of a feedback loop lately: party to forget the shit in his life, consume alcohol to block out the terrible people at said party, sober up and actually have to confront his reality, rinse and repeat. However, it was strange, because at this moment the last thing he was craving was any mood or mind altering substances. Being around Helga was enough to occupy his mind, and he wanted to have some clarity this time. Not that he minded if she decided to have a few drinks, she did have a penchant for partying but not nearly the level that he did. Besides, who was he to judge? They drank together plenty of times before, but this was different - he was sober. And with that fact in mind he was fairly convinced that drunk Helga was probably pretty adorable.
And honestly, today was really something else altogether, they were getting along so well. He was already completely enamoured with her, and if he lowered his inhibitions around her in a dress like that dancing with one another they risked a repeat of Rhonda Lloyd's party. Things might start out great, but could end in total shit. He was still totally embarrassed for crying like he did in front of her. And honestly, did he really need something like alcohol that would probably only serve to make him more horny and mopey right now? He had been keeping himself a bit more in line with his alcohol intake around her after that night, there was a certain side of him when he drank that she didn't need to see, that she had only caught a very small sight of at Rhonda's. Even at the bonfire, despite drinking liquor he made sure to stay somewhat lucid.
Helga stared at him, expecting an answer, "Nah I'm good. That's all you, Helga." Arnold motioned to the drink in her hand. She simply shrugged and gulped down the contents of the glass.
"C'mon Arnoldo, let's go dance!" she said excitedly.
"Can't we sit for a bit longer?" he whined.
Helga rolled her eyes before grabbing his hands and pulling him up, "You can sulk in the corner later, we don't have all freakin' night, ya know."
"Fine, I can't say no to that charming eyeroll of yours. Let's do it then," Arnold said with a smile.
Helga chuckled and pulled him onto the dance floor. She felt good, albeit a bit wobbly but she didn't care. Arnold watched her in amusement as she spun him around enthusiastically. She almost twisted an ankle as she flailed, and he silently thanked himself for holding back from the libations that evening as he swiftly caught her. She looked up at him with wide glassy blue eyes, and a surprised look painted her alcohol-flushed face.
"You okay?" Arnold asked.
Helga clapped a hand to the back of his head and forced his lips to meet hers. Arnold gasped, she had certainly caught him off guard. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain on his lower lip that made him reel back.
"Helga what the hell, did you just bite me?"
Helga sputtered with laughter, "Aw c'mon it was a love bite."
"You shouldn't go around biting people, they might bite you back," he said, trying to joke along but still annoyed as his lip throbbed.
"Oh Christ you're so fucking tough," Helga replied and laughed harder. "Careful though, I might like it, Football Head."
"Brave tonight, aren't we?" he asked, pressing his lips up against her ear.
Helga shuddered, and goosebumps pricked up her arms. "Ya know what they say about liquid courage, Hair Boy," she said and gave him a gentle push. "Here, hold this for me, would ya?"
She handed him the plush mink piece of Rhonda's. Arnold took it and raised an eyebrow at her, "Going somewhere?"
"Yep! Be back in a flash, don't you worry your pretty head," she replied with slightly slurred words, and tousled his hair in the same manner one might do to a child.
Helga skipped off and Arnold just smiled and shook his head. She's impossible, he thought fondly and watched her approach the bar.
"Oh lord, drinking more huh? Well, this could get interesting," he said aloud, and watched as she downed another glass and laughed loudly at a bewildered and possibly concerned looking barkeep.
She stumbled a bit as she made her way back through the crowd, bumping into several disgruntled looking onlookers as she did. Arnold snickered, as she fumbled forward obliviously, waving a bit too enthusiastically at him, as if she thought for some reason she was not the most obvious thing in the whole room. She moved towards him at a near run, and he wrapped his arms around her waist upon her approach. Yep, definitely adorable, he thought.
Helga threw her arms around his neck and squeezed, "Aw Arnold, I missed you!"
"You were gone for literally five minutes," he replied a bit hoarsely from her grip, but with a grin all the same. She sure was affectionate tonight.
"Oh puh-lease don't act like you didn't miss me too!" she said, and constricted him even tighter.
"Alright, alright you don't have to choke the life outta me over it," he pleaded, and Helga loosened her arms obediently.
"Good, glad we could settle that, then," she announced before stumbling awkwardly. She gasped as her right ankle buckled, and she fell hard to the marble floor beneath her feet.
"Fuck! My leg!" she screeched, and writhed in pain grasping at her leg.
Arnold immediately fell to the ground next to her, letting the strip of mink crumple into a pile next to them, "Shit, are you okay?"
"What do you think, idiot? Of course not! Rhonda you dumb cow, why'd you make me wear these?"
"Listen, let's get you up off the floor. Do you think you can walk?" Arnold asked, and extended a hand out to help hoist her up.
Helga tried positioning her feet under her to stand, but winced and dropped back down. Arnold carefully took her ankle and examined it, it was hot and he could feel it pulsating in his grasp. Shit it's already swelling, he thought. Without another word, he wrapped his jacket around her shoulders and gently scooped her up.
"What the hell I'm not an invalid! Put me down I can walk just fine, you might just have to spot me-,"
"Helga, please just stop talking. I'll call Gerald and have him come pick us up," Arnold said while grabbing his phone out of the pocket of his trousers.
He delicately set Helga down on one of the chairs of their table and gave her a stern look, "Okay, you stay put, I'm not gonna be able to hear a thing in here so I'm gonna head to the bathroom. For real, stay put."
"I get it I won't move a damn muscle, hurry up and call Geraldo," she replied.
Arnold's eyes stayed fixed on her for a moment before he turned on his heel and headed towards the lobby. Criminy what a disaster, Helga thought to herself as she looked around the venue. She should have known she would jinx things, she always had an uncanny way of messing something up somehow. It was maddening, they had been having such a fun time. Her and Arnold were joking and flirting, the whole night was going absolutely perfectly until now.
Helga's eyes continued scanning the crowd, annoyed seeing so many other couples having their fun nights go off without a hitch. What she wouldn't give to see an epic brawl between a couple of these lovey-dovey morons. Suddenly, her eyes widened at a familiar and likely very expensive piece of clothing that belonged to her dear friend in the middle of the floor several yards away from her. She saw the limp piece of white fur getting trampled by a couple dancing, none the wiser to the many thousands of dollars they were dirtying under their wildly moving feet. Fuck, Rhonda's dead animal! she thought and frantically tried to hoist herself up from the table. Tears stung her eyes, she definitely had a pretty nasty sprain but she would have to endure, god forbid she should owe someone like Rhonda Lloyd any favors. She slipped the high heel shoes off of her feet and hobbled on her left leg towards the dance floor. Unfortunately the alcohol was still coursing through her and she collapsed pathetically, making her shriek in frustration.
"Ah fuck, I told you to stay put!" Arnold's voice said from behind her. "I should have known better, what the hell are you doing anyway?"
"It's Rhonda's stupid animal carcass, those two mouth-breathers are stomping all over it," she whined. Arnold sighed and clapped a hand to his forehead.
"Listen I'll grab it. Just stay there, okay? Seriously, stay right the fuck there," he said and walked away to retrieve the fluffy garment.
"Oh sure Football Head, I'll just stay on the damn floor. Could have at least brought me back to the table," she mumbled as she watched Arnold awkwardly ask the couple to relocate from atop Rhonda's fine fur shawl.
Helga looked around as she pouted. The two of them together were like a magnet for bad luck but still, the night was better than she expected. It was nice spending time with Arnold away from all the bullshit and the drama. It was frustrating though since she wanted a night like this more than anything, leave it to her to have one too many and end up a dirty mess on the floor. She watched as couples danced and laughed and drank. She watched the lovely songstress on stage belt out her jazzy riffs to the sounds of brass horns and a jaunty piano. As her eyes fell back onto the crowd, she had a very faint feeling of someone's eyes boring holes into her. She searched the crowd, and found a silhouette, she could barely make it out but was quite certain they were staring right at her. They looked...familiar, maybe? It was hard to tell, the dim lighting and her slightly blurred vision did her no favors. She was sure that she recognized them, but from where? She shook her head and sighed, it probably didn't matter, there was bound to be a person or two here that she recognized, right?
"Hey, spacing out over here?" Arnold said, the fine white fur now soiled with brown and gray spots, was slung over his shoulder.
"Uh, n-no of course not," she said and looked back to where the familiar silhouette had been, but they had gone.
"Whatever you say," Arnold said and crouched with his back towards her, "Gerald just texted me, he's about a minute away. Climb on my back and we'll wait outside. You keep the jacket on so you don't get cold."
Helga couldn't think of a reason to argue and crawled onto him and slung her arms around his neck. He hooked his hands under her legs and walked them outside. They waited for only a moment before Gerald pulled up in his Subaru.
He quickly pulled up to the curb and rolled the passenger side window down, "Pataki how'd I know you'd find some way to wreck all our hard work?"
"Oh piss off," she replied.
Gerald chuckled, "Easy girl, I'm just fucking with y'all. Alright, Gerald's taxi service is here. Where to first?"
Helga saw a figure out of the corner of her eye in the alley next to the Circle Theatre, shrouded in the darkness cast by the building that even the street lights couldn't penetrate. Goosebumps pricked up along Helga's arms and legs and she uneasily told herself it was just the cold air of the autumn night. She tried hard to make her eyes focus, it was the same person as before, she was sure of it. But who was it? If it was really someone she knew, wouldn't they have said hello by now? Or at least not stare at her from a distance like some creep?
"Helga did you hear me?" Arnold asked loudly.
"Huh? What? No, sorry. What is it?"
"I said we're gonna take you home, do you want me to sit in the back with you?" Arnold asked.
"Oh uh, sure. Sounds good," she said and craned her neck to look back the alleyway, the figure once again had vanished from her sight.
Easy Helga, ol' girl. It's probably nothing. You're drunk and seeing shit, get a fucking grip, she thought as Arnold opened the door to the backseat of the Subaru and crouched down. She slid backwards off of him and into her seat with Arnold occupying the one next to her.
"Oh shit, I forgot your shoes," Arnold said and leaned out the door to retrieve them.
"Arnold it's fine just leave them, I really just want to go home," Helga said softly.
Arnold looked at her and frowned, "But...I dunno they looked nice. I don't mind grabbing them it'll only take a minute-,"
Helga couldn't shake the heebie-jeebies she had from the shadowy figure, not to mention her throbbing ankle and a massive headache setting in. She could live without the pair of heels that tried to kill her.
"Arnold, please. I'm tired, I just want to go home," she said wearily.
Arnold froze for a moment and looked at her pleading eyes curiously. She could tell that he wanted to say something in protest, but for whatever reason decided not to. He nodded silently at her and shut the car door before buckling his seat belt. Helga could see Gerald's eyes watching their interaction in the rearview mirror.
"Can I drive now, or what's goin' on?" Gerald asked.
"Yes, drive Geraldo," Helga snapped.
"Alright damn. Don't bite my head off, Pataki."
Arnold carried Helga up the stairs to her bedroom as carefully as he could, the toes of his feet made delicate contact with each step as he made his ascent. He quite preferred to make as little noise as possible, despite Helga's reassurance that her parents were already asleep in bed. He didn't worry about Miriam, she had at least been cordial with him in the past when he first dated Helga. Plus she drank so heavily there wasn't much, except perhaps a bomb going off in the living room, that would awaken her from her slumber. Big Bob was another story; even as a child before he and Helga were dating it was clear he didn't care much for Arnold. There was some sort of a weird feud between Big Bob and his grandfather that Arnold never really understood and that seemed to seep over to the way the man regarded him. When the two blondes started dating Big Bob was often rude and dismissive, if he even acknowledged him at all. Once during sixth grade Arnold sat on his bike outside the Pataki residence, waiting for Helga to meet him. He happened to overhear a very blustery Bob Pataki yelling about how "no daughter of his would be the neighborhood skank, running around with poor street vermin." Helga wasn't the type to back down, and the string of profanities that left her mouth before stomping out of the house and slamming the door behind her certainly reinforced that notion.
Arnold opened the door to her bedroom slowly, and winced as the hinges squeaked loudly at him. Helga groaned, "Good god Arnold, just open the fucking door would ya?!"
He jumped and raced into the room, quickly closing the door behind them. "Shhh! You trying to make me drop you?"
"Oh calm down, would ya? I already told you, they're asleep."
Arnold grumbled and crouched beside her bed, she slid off of his back onto the mattress. He crossed the room and found the lightswitch on the wall, flipping it on before he sat down next to her. He watched as she examined her ankle, it looked pretty painful, now that they were in the light of her bedroom. It was certainly red and swollen, and there was a faint blue hue that was indicative of some nasty bruising starting.
"You should probably ice that," he told her and she nodded back at him.
"If you go down to the kitchen, there should be a bag of frozen peas in the freezer," she explained.
Arnold's eyes widened, "Down in the kitchen? As in I have to leave the room and walk through your house?"
"Well there sure aren't any in here, Football Head!" Helga groaned. "Arnold please, I already told you, they're passed the fuck out. You'll be fine. Go down the stairs and through the hallway in the front room. Hang a left and you're there. Miriam has night lights and shit down there so she doesn't break her drunken neck trying to find alcohol in the dark, it shouldn't be a problem. Can you get me some water too? My head's killing me."
Arnold sighed before silently rising from the bed and exiting the room. He crept down the dark hallway and down the stairs, once at the bottom, he made his way towards the back of the house, and hung a left into the kitchen as Helga instructed. The house was pretty nice, which didn't surprise him in the least. Even though Big Bob lost his business, the guy still knew how to make money despite it, that's for sure. He retrieved the bag of peas from the freezer, found a cup that he filled with cool water, and silently strode back up to Helga's bedroom, his heart pounding as he did. He already almost got caught in her bedroom before, he wondered how much he was pushing his luck, especially on an already particularly unlucky night.
Arnold sighed in relief as he safely crossed the threshold of Helga's bedroom door. He sat on the bed next to her and handed her the cup of water, which she drank almost all of in one go.
"Here, let me help you ice that," Arnold said, and pulled both of her legs onto his lap. He placed the cold bag onto her ankle. "Looks pretty painful, you think you broke anything?"
Helga shook her head, "Nah, I think I just twisted it pretty good. Ice is already making it feel better though, thanks."
Arnold iced Helga's ankle for about as long as she could handle the cold before asking him to put the bag on the bedside table next to them. She stretched her arms over her head and groaned before motioning for him to help her up.
"I need outta this stupid dress. Can you help me?" she asked, using her mouth to pull the gloves from her slender arms.
Arnold felt his face redden and nodded, carefully pulling her up off of the bed. She used the bedpost to support herself and turned her back to him. His hands trembled slightly, and his hands fumbled for a moment before successfully unzipping the back of her dress. His hands gently found their way underneath the fabric of her shoulders, and guided the fabric down, exposing her a bit. She held an arm out, and his hand travelled towards her wrist, removing the sleeve of one side before doing the same to the other. His fingers maneuvered the bulk of the dress down, and he made light contact with the sides of her stomach and hips. She shivered at his touch, it was so warm and tender.
Arnold was doing everything he could to try and control himself, even as he felt her gently tremble from the contact of his fingertips. A kiss wouldn't hurt though, right? That's certainly innocent enough. He let his arms wrap around her waist and softly pressed his lips into the crook of her neck and exhaled onto her skin. Helga's body tensed, she could do little else to react to him, as her arms were still preoccupied in holding her upright. She hadn't been wearing a bra under her dress, and she realized how absolutely exposed she was.
Helga spoke simply, "Arnold, sit down."
He cringed a bit at the succinct nature of her words. He didn't blame her for not wanting to be touched, she was just trying to change and had a sprained ankle on top of it, after all. Helga guided herself to the edge of the mattress, using the bedpost to support herself. Arnold averted his eyes from her, he didn't want to make her anymore uncomfortable. He felt her hands fumbling with his neck, and he curiously looked down to see that she was unfastening the silken bowtie he was wearing. Before he could react, her mouth found his neck and she unbuttoned the first few buttons of his dress shirt. Her fingers quickly unhinged the links that held his suspenders in place before making quick work of the rest of the buttons of his shirt. She slid the shirt off of him, planting kisses and nibbling at his neck and exposed chest. Good, now they were on an even playing field.
Arnold felt his breath grow heavy in anticipation. It had been weeks since they had sex, with the last time being a rushed and not exactly "romantic" encounter in the back of his Packard. One hand found her breast, and teased the nub of her nipple. He was excited, but reminded himself to proceed gently, despite his more primal instincts screaming at him. She was pretty badly hurt after all. In fact, it would probably be in his best interest to let her control the situation. While she seemed to have sobered up, it wasn't his place to gauge that. Plus with an injury, he didn't want to force her into anything. He felt a pang of guilt hit him, he did kiss her first. Perhaps that was not a wise choice.
"Listen, Helga. I don't want to like, pressure you into doing anything. Since you were drinking and hurt your ankle and all, if and when you want to stop is totally fine-,"
Helga balled some of his hair into her fist and leaned her mouth to whisper into his ear, "Arnold, please stop talking. Go turn off the light."
He obeyed quite readily, and after turning off the light and crossing back to her bed, he quickly slipped his shoes and socks off of his feet.
"Take your pants off and lay behind me," Helga instructed, and Arnold added his trousers to the growing piles of clothes on the floor. "Do you have a condom?"
Arnold felt his face grow hot, "O-of course," he mumbled and retrieved a small package from the pocket of his trousers.
He set the condom on the bedside table and laid close behind Helga. She arched her back, rubbing her bottom against his hard-on, and turned her head while guiding his head toward her, and their mouths crashed together. Helga's lips parted, and their tongues met, eliciting a small moan from her that met Arnold's mouth. He felt the hunger inside of him grow, he wanted her and he wanted her very badly. His hands worked their way around to the front of her and grasped at her chest. He bucked his pelvis into her, and his mouth focused on suckling on her neck and shoulder. He let a hand travel down her torso, and wasted little time in rubbing her between her legs. She moaned quietly, and he smirked before sliding a finger inside of her. Her hand moved behind her to the back of his head and fisted his hair firmly, giving a generous tug.
Arnold groaned as her hand migrated quickly towards his boxers, and grasped the hard member between his legs. She worked her hand forward and back, tugging him and making his breathing hitched. They were both feeling one another in anticipation, but both were fairly gentle in their movements. Despite Helga being quite dominant in her words, she was quite docile now in comparison. A bit like putty in his hands. Perhaps that was her way of garnering some reassurance and telling him this was what she wanted. Not that he minded, he felt privileged that she even wanted him in her bed with her right now.
Arnold quickened the work of his fingers as she grew more wet, and her body writhed against the front of him. His other fingers tenderly squeezed at her nipple, while his mouth continued to pepper her with kisses. He really liked to make her cum, it made fucking her that much more satisfying. Her breaths grew ragged and he could hear her moaning grow ever so slightly louder and in higher pitch than before. He knew she had to stay quiet, which was a bit of a bummer for him, but something about her struggling to stifle herself was something of a turn-on all on its own. That didn't last long though as she rolled her hips and a piercing sort of shriek came from her.
Arnold quickly placed a hand over her mouth while she climaxed, and as soon as her body relaxed he leaned his head forward and spoke lowly into her ear while rolling the condom onto himself, "Fuck, I love you."
Helga had virtually no time to respond verbally as he entered her from behind. Arnold was careful not to jostle her too much, and made slow and steady movements inside of her. Helga was very much thankful for his hand still muffling the sounds coming from her mouth, it had been a long time since they had connected like this, and she was still reeling from the orgasm she had just had. Something about this position, too. It was a new one, but something about it was so intimate especially with Arnold clinging to her the way he was, she could really feel all of him. He used the hand covering her mouth to gently turn her face to him. He kissed her deeply and they moaned their breaths into each other's mouths.
Arnold continued moving in and out of her, being mindful of her leg positioning even as he pushed himself deeper inside of her with every forward motion of his hips. He kept his pace steady, and his movements were deliberate and tactful. He nibbled her ear and suckled every part of her that he possibly could whilst laying on his side behind her. Arnold could feel the satisfaction building in his groin, he slowed his hips to try and last as long as possible, he didn't want to finish just yet. She shared the same sentiments as she slowed the rolling of her hips in time with his own.
Despite everything, the cliché shopping spree, Helga snapping her ankle, seeing the creepy shadow person as she was leaving the theatre, not to mention everything outside of this time, this proved that they overcame some shit, didn't it? Maybe their friends are right, maybe they could be together, as more than just...whatever they are presently. She wanted it, she knew that now. They could take on all the bullshit together, as a team. Helga didn't want to be fragmented anymore, it wasn't good for either of them. They were strong when they were together, they could help each other, support each other. She loved him, she loved him so much and she knew he loved her. Fuck what anyone else has to say, she was going to make him hers tonight. They could sort out the shitty details later. She didn't want to think about that stuff. She wanted to think about this moment, and all of the other good moments they've had. Fuck his drugs, and Sid, and their parents, and Tyler. Fuck all of them. He was hers. And like a fucking lioness, she would rip out the throats of anyone who dare try to tear them apart.
Helga felt Arnold quicken his pace ever so slightly, and gripped his hair roughly. He moaned as she tugged his blonde locks and he moved even faster inside of her. He bit down on her shoulder, and he climaxed inside of her, their breathing in sync as he finished. Arnold peppered every inch of her that he could reach with kisses. They were both covered in sweat, and even though they were in the dark and were unable to see, the two grinned from ear-to-ear.
Arnold wondered why the hell they didn't just have sex all the time? He would take this over some percocet any day of the week. Granted, the dopamine and serotonin centers of his brain would take what they could get, but once oxytocin came into play, it became increasingly clear that sex with Helga would always win.
The two blondes laid there for a moment, trying to catch their breath. Thoughts in their heads going a mile a minute.
"How's your leg?" Arnold asked breathlessly.
Helga chuckled softly, "It's fine Football Head, thanks for asking."
Arnold snaked his arms tightly around her, pulling her close to him. This was it, wasn't it? The moment he had been waiting for all evening. They could finally talk.
"Good, that's a relief," he said and exhaled some of the anxiety he was having. He had been hoping that he didn't make matters worse for her physically. "So listen, remember what we were talking about at the Circle? And I told you we'd take a rain check?"
"Oh yeah I actually do, now that you mention it."
"Okay, so now do you know what I'm thinking about when I'm looking at you?" he asked quietly. Helga didn't respond right away.
"Seriously with this question again? I dunno, sex I'm guessing? Can't you just tell me?"
Arnold sighed in frustration, "Alright, I guess asking does just kind of make it confusing. I dunno what's wrong with me, I'm the one with a question for you anyway."
Helga felt her eyes grow wide, she didn't know what to say to that, "You just want to ask me a question? Shoulda known the day would come where you'd be asking me to rob a bank or hide a body with you."
Arnold chuckled, "I'm literally not going to ask either of those things...wait, you knew I'd ask you one of those things and you still spent the whole night with me? Are you suggesting that you would hide a body with me Helga?"
"Oh don't go gettin' all cocky. Of course I'd help, god forbid your dense ass tries to hide a body alone," she said and snickered.
"Alright, alright, I hear you, I'd be a terrible accomplice. I wasn't quite done with what I was trying to ask you though," he continued nervously.
"So that wasn't it, huh?" Helga replied quietly. She could sense his anxiety clinging to his words. "Alright Arnoldo, ask me anything."