A/N: I know these chapters are coming out rather quickly, but I have no job, too much caffine and a nasty attack of insomnia going on. I also know it's a little strange to be dedicating a story six chapters in, but this story is for King Cheetah, because no matter how much I try to read his stories, someone always takes me away before I'm finished! This is the next best thing until he gets the reviews he deserves! Thanks for reading and reviewing everyone. -Sky.

CHAPTER 6 - Helga's First Nice Act

The next morning Arnold was sitting at his breakfast table with all the other boarders, discussing his science project with his Grandpa. "Mr. Simmons says we can have an extension on ours, because Helga ruined the old one. Thankfully I've got a lot of the old files saved on my computer so it shouldn't be too much work. Gerald's gonna come over tomorrow so we can get started."

"Ah, well you see Arnold it all worked out for the best," his Grandpa said through a mouthful of cornflakes.

"And in two months Helga won't be around to do this kind of thing to me anymore, seeing as she's going to live in England," Arnold said, grinning.

"Aw, that's a shame short man, are you going to miss her?" his Grandpa said absent-mindedly, scanning the back of the cereal box.

"No way Grandpa," Arnold said, getting to his feet. "I'll be glad to see the back of her."

"Arnold that's a terrible thing to say," Oskar cut in. "Her father owns his own business and has a lot of money."

"That doesn't make her a nice person Mr. Kokoshka," Arnold said matter-of-factly, picking up his plate and walking toward the kitchen.

"Hey Arnold," Ernie said cheerfully, "you want to come down to the site today? I'm blowing stuff up."

"I can't Mr. Potts, I really need to get started on the project today," Arnold said, disappearing through the door. As he was placing his dishes into the sink he heard the phone ring in the hall.

"Arnold," he heard his Grandpa call, "it's for you." Arnold wiped his hands and walked into the hall, taking the receiver from his Grandpa.

"Hello?"

"Hey Arnold," Gerald muttered, not sounding his usual cheery self.

"You're not coming tomorrow are you?" Arnold muttered.

"Someone already tell you?"

"No, that's just my luck. Hang on a second, tell me what?"

"Arnold, Jamie O was in an accident. He crashed his car. The doctors say he's gonna be alright, but his leg's been really beat up. I have to go see him in hospital. I'm sorry man," Gerald said in a quiet voice.

"Oh, don't worry about it, I'm just glad Jamie O's ok. I'll catch you some other time. Bye Gerald."

"Bye Arnold." Arnold replaced his receiver and wandered up to his room. He thought it better to get started on the project by himself sooner rather than later, now he had no one to help him out. He didn't know how long Jamie O was likely to be in hospital but he knew that Gerald would be pretty tied up for the duration. He shifted his papers around on his desk looking for a place to start but he just wasn't in the mood. His thoughts were with Gerald and his family. It must have been horrible to get that phone call, telling them that Jamie O had been in an accident. He flopped down on his bed and stared up through his ceiling. It was such a beautiful day. Untactfully so. The clouds floated gently by, the sun shone down on the city, and Arnold felt the need to get out of his house. Maybe he would run into Stinky or Sid if he wandered around the neighbourhood a little.

He left the boarding house and began the walk to Gerald Field. On the way he passed Mr. Green's butchers and was tempted to go inside, but he saw Mr. Green fighting a losing battle with a string of pork sausages and decided against it. He crossed over the street, tripping on the curb as he went. "Oh Arnold, could you give me a hand please?" Arnold looked up. Mrs. Vitello was hanging half out of her flower shop looking very flustered.

"Sure thing Mrs. Vitello," Arnold answered at once. He had trouble struggling around her as she didn't seem willing to budge out of the doorway, but once he had forced his way into the shop he soon found out why.

A large display case of Venus Fly Traps had toppled and landed square on Mrs. Vitello, and she was now doing everything in her power to stop them crashing to the ground. Her dress was covered in soil and a terracotta pot had broken at her feet. She looked somewhat in pain as Arnold rushed forward to push the shelves back up.

"I knew it was a mistake to get these things in," she lamented, wiping her shoulders off. "I thought I'd try and branch into other areas, you know, appeal to a wider market, but they've been nothing but trouble since they arrived. If you hadn't have shown up I'm willing to bet they would have dissolved me in the next few hours." Arnold let out a small chuckle, but one look at her and he realised Mrs. Vitello was serious.

"Um, is there anything else?" he asked politely.

"Oh, no Arnold, thank you very much young man." Arnold nodded and headed out of the shop, listening to the bell tinkle over his head. "Oh wait!" Mrs. Vitello screamed dramatically. Arnold froze, and then spun quickly around, wondering what other accident would meet his eyes. "I just finished these for your grandmother," she said, holding up a large purple and red flower arrangement, "drop them off to her will you?" Arnold smiled, his heart still beating rapidly, took the flowers and left the shop.

"Grandma!" he called as he entered the Sunset Arms. "I have your flowers!" His Grandma swept majestically out of the dining room, wearing an Elizabethan ensemble.

"Aw Arnold you bought me flowers," she said sweetly, taking them from him.

"No, Mrs. V-"

"And I thought you'd forgotten my birthday," she gushed, admiring them. She plucked a red rose from the centre and nestled it under Arnold's cap. "Lovely!" she exclaimed.

"Grandma, it's not your birthday," he said, half closing his eyes.

"The Queen has two birthdays!" she cried, and went into the kitchen to put the flowers into a vase. Arnold shook his head and left the boarding house once more, stepping into the glorious sunshine, the brief encounter with his Grandma making him feel the best he had in days. Smiling he treked back to Gerald field, hoping that there would be a game already underway when he arrived.

As he turned the corner, he didn't hear the usual noise that came from the common baseball games. He did, however, hear a slow, rhythmical thudding. As he walked into the lot he discovered the source. Helga was sitting against one of the makeshift benches, throwing a tennis ball at the wall and catching it when it returned to her. Arnold's first instinct was to turn around, but he was in such a good mood he decided it would be best to try and make peace with Helga. He didn't like the way he had been feeling towards her of late, he knew she wasn't a bad person deep down and she was leaving.

"Hey Helga," he said, sitting down next to her.

"Afternoon, football head," she said, immediately regretting it.

"Thought you were supposed to be being nice," he said slyly.

"Not til Monday Arnold-o," she said triumphantly. "Nice headgear." Arnold put his hand to his head and pulled out the rose that was still lodged in his hair.

"Pour vous," he said in a stupid voice, handing it to her. For a moment she regarded it with contempt, but then much to Arnold's suprise she tucked it behind her ear. Then she sighed and looked around widly.

"Where is everyone?" she asked out loud.

"Gerald's gone to hospital to visit his brother but I don't know about anyone else," he replied, catching the tennis ball as Helga bounced it in his direction. A silence passed between them, broken only by the sound of the tennis ball. "You really gonna do this 'nice' thing then?" Arnold said finally. Helga threw Arnold a sideways glance, but didn't say anything. Her mind was still racing with the fact that he was speaking to her at all. He took a deep breath. "I know I should be mad at you, I mean really mad, and I sort of am, but you're going soon and I don't want to be mad at you when you leave." he said quickly. Helga grinned slyly.

"You're such a pushover," she said. Arnold's eye's narrowed. "But I really am sorry you know," she amended.

"I know," he said quietly, not looking up.

For the next hour or so the two nine year olds sat side by side, not saying a word, just passing that tennis ball between them. Helga could feel her heart knotting ever tighter with every second that passed. This was what being a kid was all about. Just being happy where you are with who you're with. The idea that she would be leaving filled her once more and she had to turn away to hide her face in her hands, making the first miscatch of the day.

"Helga, what's wrong?" Arnold answered. Helga bit her lip and turned to face him. Arnold was shocked. He hadn't realised it, but he had never seen Helga cry before. It was devestating.

"There's nothing wrong with me football head!" she shouted angrily, grabbing the front of his shirt. The tears were coming thick and fast, her cheeks were flushed and hot. Arnold cringed.

"Whoa, sorry Helga," he muttered. She let go of him and slumped back against the bench, staring ahead and looking straight through everything.

"I'm sorry," she said in barely a whisper. "I'm just so scared of going Arnold." Arnold looked at Helga, feeling puzzled. Was she opening up to him? He had never seen her let down her defences so easily before, not once. Maybe she didn't think it mattered, seeing as she was leaving. "I don't want to go to England Arnold, I want to stay here with Pheebs and everyone and just keep going the way I am. I don't want to go..." she trailed off, her choked sobs now making it too difficult for her to talk. Arnold didn't know what to say or whether he should hug her or anything. Instead he settled with just putting his hand on her shoulder.

Helga's sobs stopped at once. She swivelled her head and looked down at Arnold's hand, frowning at it. Arnold wanted to take it away but it felt as though someone had superglued it there. She smirked in the direction of his knuckles.

"What's so funny?" he asked. She put her hand on top of his for a second, before pushing it away.

"I'll get back to you with that," she answered, not too sure herself. "So the bet thing?" she continued, deliberately changing the subject."Yep, totally going through with it. Starting Monday you are going to see the new and improved Helga G. Pataki. All nice, all the time Hair Boy."

"Why?"

She sighed and looked at him. "I need to be remembered." Arnold just nodded and looked at his hands. He understood that, but he would be remembered enough. He had done so much for the neighbourhood, maybe quietly in the background but loud enough so that everyone knew his name. Helga, on the other hand, had never been credited for the events with FTI, even though without her the boarding house would surely have been levelled by now.

"But nice?" he repeated, not able to hide the smirk in his voice. She scowled at him.

"You don't think I can do it?" she asked, getting to her feet."Oh, I'm gonna show you just how nice I can be," she said menacingly, and she disappeared around the corner. Arnold sighed at her retreating back.

"Oh, I think you can do it," he said to himself as he got to his feet, "I'm just not sure you should."

-

Helga broke into a run the moment she was certain Arnold couldn't see her anymore. She had a mission in her mind. She thudded up the steps of the boarding house and pounded fiercely on the door. "Alright, alright, I'm coming, keep your hair on," Phil's tired voice sounded from inside. He pulled the door open and looked at the small panting girl on his stoop. "Yes?" he asked suspiciously.

"I need," she panted, "to..pick up something... of Arnold's... quickly." And before he could stop she barged straight past him and rushed up the boarding house stairs. Helga pulled the cord to Arnold's room and the stairs unfolded before her. Climbing them quickly, she came to a dead stop when she found herself in his room. Her breath fell short as she looked about his tidy surroundings. This wasn't the first time she had been in Arnold's room, far from it, but every time it made her feel lighter than air. The pillow where he lay his beautiful football shaped head at night, the desk where he sat and put his marvellous brain waves onto paper, the spot where she had once watched him remove his- No, there was no time for that.

Her eyes scanned the room desperately. Finally she found what she was looking for, and rushed over to his litter bin. After a few seconds of rummaging she found what she wanted and bundling it in her arms she ran out of the boarding house as fast as her legs would carry her.

-

Arnold finally wandered into the boarding house just as the sun was setting. He walked into the living room where all the boarders were gathered around the television watching the video tape of the time they were on Fighting Families. "Where ya been Short Man?" his Grandpa asked.

"Just around," Arnold answered. He had spent most of the day wandering about on his own after the meeting with Helga. Arnold had noticed that sometimes just talking to Helga for five mintues gave him enough to think about for several days.

"Oh, your little friend with the pink bow and the one eyebrow popped round earlier. Said she had to pick something up from your room," his Grandpa said, pulling Arnold from his thoughts. "She was up there before I could stop her. Was a couple of hours ago actually."

"Helga!" he exclaimed, "In my room?" His mind raced through the many possiblilties of destruction that Helga may have caused. He rushed up to his room and dashed in, bracing himself for the worst. He was pleasantly suprised when he opened his eyes, there was not a single thing out of place. He searched through his desk to see if anything was missing, but everything was just as he left it. He looked in his closet, but everything was still there. With one final panic, he leapt onto his bed and took a shoebox down from the top of his bookshelf. He ripped the lid off and looked inside. The Little Pink Book was still there, the single, red shoe remained, his father's journal, a photograph of Lila, it was all still there. As far as Arnold could tell, nothing had been taken.

He sat himself down on his bed and something made a crunching sound under his legs. He looked down at his duvet and saw a big brown envelope that was half covered by his butt. He picked it up, looking at it strangely. It was quite thick and Arnold was certain it wasn't his. It had nothing written on it and it wasn't sealed, so he figured it would be alright to look inside. He pulled out a bundle of clean white sheets, all neatly printed with text and graphs and charts and tables. It was his and Gerald's science project, in it's perfect entirety, minus the conclusion he still hadn't written. He searched through the envelope for a note or a letter or anything, but it was empty.

He looked over to his waste paper basket and raised his eyebrow. Tucking the report back into it's envelope he looked out of his window at the orange sky.

"This is going to be a disaster," he said, shaking his head, but the smile didn't fade from his lips.