A/N: Rating warning! This chapter contains sexual content that could be unsuitable for younger readers. Discretion is advised. Thank you.

The drive back to his apartment could only be described as slow.

She was restless the whole time, looking ready to pounce on him over the center console, sending them into a building if that had to be the consequence. But her restlessness seemed to vanish with the assent up to his third story apartment. And what replaced it seemed to be tentativeness and apprehensiveness at best, fear and panic at worst. Her shoulders were noticeably shrunken in when he led her by the hand into his apartment and shut the door, locking it behind them. He took a silent but deep breath as he took her other hand that was jammed inside the pocket of her jeans. Her eyes finally met his, which gave him the opportunity to try and reassure her with a tender smile. She returned the gesture by a smirk sneaking its way onto her face.

He started walking backward into his bedroom, his eyes never leaving hers even after they had fallen out of view and was hiding behind her rebellious bangs that she always complained about when she'd talk about things that she thought he wouldn't listen to. He could do that with Rhonda, because Rhonda never shut up. But he listened to Helga.

He hopes he can pull this off. He wants to finally make love with her again, no question, but he wants her not to be scared of it. He can tell plainly that she's terrified right now. He can hear her trying to suppress her frantic breathing as he turns into this bedroom. He stops when he reaches the foot of his bed and turns them so they're perpendicular to it. She takes one last long breath, letting it out with a shake and refuses to meet his gaze. "Helga." He calls over to her softly. She finally looks back over to him, looking him in the eye after flicking her bangs out of the way. "If you're not certain about this, we can wait."

"I am certain." She says with feigned confidence. He lowers his head a bit, challenging her own statement with the small gesture. Her eyes nod off to the side. "Alright, I'm a bit scared, but... I don't..." She takes a large breath and looks back up to him, "I don't want to be, Arnold. I don't want to be this scared all the time anymore."

"And... you think that will happen by us having sex?" He asks almost as if it's a joke.

She lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes, not letting go of his hands that tighten a bit around his. "I only ever feel safe when I'm with you, Arnold. I've been walking around with this fear ever since I got rescued." She takes a small step toward him. "I mean, I still wake up some mornings thinking I'm back in that windowless room and it throws me into a panic. I don't want to feel this way anymore! And the only time I don't now is when I'm with you."

"Helga, I want to help you, but..." he lets out a small chuckle despite himself and shakes his head, "the only advice I got on not being scared was a drill sergeant in basic training telling me to suck it the fuck up." The look in her eyes is that of defeat. Her head falls forward and her eyes drift shut, and he feels a strong pang of guilt stab him in his stomach. He takes a breath and cups her cheek, pulling her gaze back up to his. "I can't help you get rid of your fear, Helga." She closes her eyes, "But what I can do is give you tools to so you can fight it on your own."

"What do you mean?"

He smiles and takes a step toward her, his hands going to her waist. "Helga, being shot at by people who want nothing more than to see you dead is scary. But I was trained and given tools to deal with it. I can do the same for you."

"What, give me an assault rifle and throw me out of a plane?" She asks on another eye roll.

He smiles with a small laugh and pulls her into him by her waist. "I'm not going to deprive you of sleep or put a forty seven pound rucksack on your back and make you march twelve miles or anything, but what I can do is give you a way to cope with it and get your confidence back."

She smiles the first real genuine smile he's seen since this started. "I want us to be together first." She places her hands on his shoulders, gripping the loose fabric of his open flannel shirt, edging it off his shoulders.

He snakes his arms around her mid section, pulling her into him with a grin. "Does that mean you're my girlfriend again?"

Her gaze turns more lidded and lustful as her arms go around his neck and succumbs to his hands pushing her into him. "Nothing I want more."

He smiles as he slowly kisses her already open lips. The first motion of his lips earns him a rising moan, escaping from her throat. The second earns him her fingernails digging into his shoulders, starting to tug at his flannel shirt. He moves his arms out from around her and pulls his first shirt off, tossing it against the wall of his bedroom before moving his arms back around her, pulling her in with just a little more force. There's a second where he regrets it, but it vanishes once he feels her hands pull at his sides with just as much added force.

His hands meander under the hem of her t-shirt. Once his thumb feels the warmth of the skin on the small of her back, he presses against it when his palm. He moves his hands under the hem of her shirt and around her sides. Before he makes the final decision, he feels the fabric of his black t-shirt being pulled off him. He responds with a surprised moan against her soft lips. She rips the fabric off him and he can see her eyes dart down to his chest with a dark pupils, her hands already reaching out to touch him. But they stop in front of her, and her gaze turns from wanting to fearful confusion.

He feels his excitement die out once he reads her expression and figures out what she's looking like that for. "Oh my god, Arnold..." Her thumb traces the four inch long gash along his left side, then along the large burn against his other side from when he was being held prisoner. "What did they do to you?" She asks, her fingers starting to trace over the three large gashes going diagonally down his chest, along with the other small nicks and cuts.

"Nothing they got to brag about." He says in a low voice. Her eyes find his again, and she's looking at him with a wide gaze. "When I heard the facility being breached, I slammed my thumb against the back of the chair and slipped my hand out from the binds. I stood up and waited along the wall next to the door... and when he opened it to shoot me, I grabbed him and snapped his neck in a single motion just like I was taught. Grabbed his rifle and put down three others before my company came around the corner. Once I realized I was saved I collapsed. Woke up in Walter Reed two days later."

Her hands flatten against his sides and she leans forward, kissing him softly. And with that one soft kiss, he's brought out of the sleep depriving pain from his three days held prisoner. He snakes his arms around her mid section and pulled her in, the motions of their lips getting faster and deeper with each pass. From his hands pressing against her back underneath her shirt, to pushing it up and over her head. With her arms in the air, his hands find her sides and hers find his shoulders. She pushes against his shoulder, turning him and pushing him back toward his bed.

He slowly lowers himself while she crawls up his bed above him, their lips never parting until he's settled with his head on his pillow, his girlfriend as of one minute ago on top of him. He leans up, bracing himself with his arm while he slowly moves his other hand up her spine until his finger and thumb find the strap of her bra. He stops when he feels her breath hitch. He stops kissing her and leans back, fingers frozen on the snaps of her bra. He looks into her eyes, gauging her emotions. "Go ahead." She permits him in a low voice while she brushes a stray strand of his hair out of his forehead with her middle finger.

With a quick motion of his fingers, her bra slackens and falls down between them while he fans his hand out against her back. He feels himself stopped to a halt, staring into her big blue eyes while she has one hand on his jaw and the other on his chest. "What?" She asks after a long moment of silence.

He moves his hand from her back to her face, brushing his knuckles across her cheekbone and he feels her drift into his touch. "You're too beautiful to go through what you did." She closes her eyes and cranes her head a bit, still drifting into his touch.

She sniffles, opens watery eyes, and runs her fingers down the long, jagged scar going down across his chest, "You keep talking about the strength I have." She says, running her hands over the three jagged scared that go down his chest from where they cut him with a heated hunting knife. "I can't imagine the strength you must have to have gotten through this, Arnold."

"I just wouldn't let myself die until I saw you again." That pulls a tear that's been hanging from her lashes. She grabs his wrist and moves the hand that's caressing her cheek to her lips. After letting her kiss his palm for a few seconds, he moves his hand to her neck, softly digging his fingers into the base of her skull and pulling her down, kissing her passionately, fervor she's returning every ounce of.

She pushes him back down to the bed with her lips, his hands cupping her breast one second, to sliding roughly down her side. Her hands move from disheveling his hair to reaching down to fiddle with the button of their jeans. With puffy lips, unruly moans, and impatient fingers, he feels her jeans loosen around her gyrating hips. She pulls their lips apart, sits up and starts to push her jeans down her hips as if they've caught fire. He smiles widely, wraps an arm around her mid section and pulls her down to his bed. And it isn't until he feels the bouncy thud of his mattress that he's realized what he's just done. He feels his blood freeze with guilt and sits up, giving her room to breathe.

But when he does, he's brought out of it by the sound of a giggle erupting from her throat, turning into bolstering laughter, illuminating her features. She starts kicking her legs, trying to get her jeans off hands free until her grabs her pant leg at the bottom and helps her with a swift tug, tossing them haphazardly onto the floor. He takes a long moment to admire her long, toned legs, still as supermodel-esque as they were in high school. "You have another tattoo?" She asks out of nowhere, her hand reaching for his right shoulder.

He leans up and displays the large tattoo covering the upper part of his right arm, consisting of the Ranger's shield and the 75th Ranger tab. "Got that after my first tour." He says while she's running her fingers over the lightning bot of the shield. "I also have the American flag on my back." He says with a cocky voice.

"Really?" She asks, giddily. She leans up, pulling down his shoulder and looking at the eight by six inch American flag tattoo adorning his back left shoulder. "Why'd you get that?"

"That's the result of a weekend off in New Orleans, five hundred dollars, alcohol, and a very patriotic 2nd lieutenant."

She laughs brightly, bringing him back down to her lips with a soft hand on his cheek. He can feel her fighting back a smile as he kisses her. He moves a hand to mold and massage her breast, being egged on by her pressing against his hand by leaning up off the bed. Her hands find the button of his pants, and he feels himself twinge with pleasure at the feeling of her leg crawling up and trying to push off his pants with her foot. He kisses her hard, pressing her down into the bed while he grabs her thigh and wraps her leg around him. He's rewarded with a deep moan.

Her fingers are digging into his back and his shoulders as he moves on top of her fully after kicking his pants off his feet and onto the floor. He wants to take it slow, but every time he tries, she pulls at another part of him and eggs him on further, every motion she makes forcing him to bite back the urge to let all his shackles loose and just go for it. Her hand moves into his hair again, taking a fistful of hair as she presses his lips down onto hers roughly. He takes in a nervous breath past the lump in his throat as he kisses his way down to her neck, massaging her pulse point with his tongue. She's letting out breath after ragged breath into his ear, so much so he can hear her mouthing his name, her voice too weak to actually speak.

He takes her leg and pulls it up his side, feeling her other leg hook her foot around his calve. She lets out another long breath into his ear right before he feels her hands around the waistband of his boxers. He's caught off guard by her swift action while he gently grazes his teeth across the skin of her neck. In one quick motion, she pushes them off, hooking her toes around the waistband and pulling them down until they're out of the way. He laughs against her and moves back to kiss her. "That was good." He says against her lips.

"I can't wait anymore, Arnold." She says before devouring his lips in a passionate, open mouthed kiss.

Her arms wrap around his neck into a vice grip, squeezing him to her. He can feel himself push against her soaked core, sending a heated shiver through his nerves. It's in that moment he feels the shackles of his control shatter, the tug he felt just seconds ago now pushing him forward. With two fingers, he pushes her panties to the side and delves inside her folds. At full hilt, her teeth sink into his lower lip, hearing her let out a high pitched whimper, her legs tightening around his waist, but her arms quivering around his shoulders.

He pulls out slowly, having to fight against both her tightness, and her legs pushing him into her. He then slowly creeps back in, their lips touching, but not kissing, simply breathing past each other. After repeating this ritual a few times, hesitantly, a pace was set, slow as it is. And once it was, he feels her body relax underneath his, going from a timid shake, to mewling with every slow thrust he makes into her. It's her thighs petting his sides that urge him to increase the pace and force of his motions. Once it had double, her motions getting more restless and her ecstasy rising that much more, he feels her roll them, her hands suddenly pressing against his chest, towering over him.

She continues the pace, moving back and forth against him, sending very pleasurable shivers through him. Her head is rocked back, her hips gyrating against him, her perfect figure haloed by the low afternoon light creeping in past the blinds of his bedroom. The sight of her is almost enough for this to end now. "Helga." He struggles to call out to her over the perfect motions she's making against him.

Her head rolls back forward, her hair falling down so it's covering just a part of her face, giving her a slightly devilish look, which pushes him just that much closer. He can see the gleam of her teeth when she grins at him, her nails softly digging into his pecs, the only response he gets being her ragged breath. "I haven't felt this good since the last time we were together." She manages to say.

"You know," He's cut off by her sending her hips forward with a forceful thrust, making his eyes roll back into his head, "I thought you'd be more timid." He says, feeling her hand move to his jaw. "Considering what you want through." He chooses his words carefully over the long few seconds he's rebuilding the floodgates, still being pulled in by the amazing feeling of her muscles tightly wrapped around him.

It's in that moment that her mood takes a sharp and sudden shift. The motion of her hips becomes shaky and hesitant, her head moves off to the side, her eyes closed and her expression screwing together just a touch. Reading it in the instant it happens, he leans up and cups her jaw, smoothing over her cheekbone with his thumb. Her hips have stopped and she won't open her eyes. "Helga, look at me." He softly commands. Her eyes pop open after a moment. Her pupils are slightly dilated in fear. "It's gonna be okay, Helga." He reassured, running his thumb back and forth across her cheekbone.

She takes in a deep breath and hold it for a moment before framing his face with her hands. "Arnold, hold me."

He doesn't hesitate in enveloping her in his arms, feeling her do the same with her arms around his neck, squeezing each other for dear life. He leans back down to the bed with her, softly pressing back up into her with a slow thrust upward. After a few more thrusts, she brings her head out of his shoulder and presses her forehead to his. Their pace quickly hastens again, both reading the climax they both need. Her breath is quick, her muscles tightening around him, and her cries of pleasure getting higher and higher with every quick thrust me makes into her quivering center.

He feels his tempo go off kilter as his leg muscles stiffen and feels himself spill into her just seconds after, his arms tight over her sweat slicked back. After a few long, drawn out seconds of riding out their joint orgasm, he feels his muscles loosen and turn to burning jelly. She's shaking and quivering on top of him over heavy, sedated breathing as he slips out of her. After at least a minute, she extends her legs back out and situated herself so she's laying next to him, her head on his shoulder and her arm laying dead across his stomach, both panting heavily.

He feels his eyes pull closed, and he softly plants a kiss to her hair before pulling the covers of his unmade bed over them. She burrows herself into his side once they're covered with his comforter. "Helga?" He asks once he catches his breath. After a long pause without a response, he continues. "You okay?"

She lets out a breath and heavily lifts her head off his chest, putting two fingers on his chin to bring his head down to her. He leans up and captures her lips in a soft kiss. After letting their lips sit together for a few seconds, she lets his head fall back down to the pillow, setting her head down next to his. "My worst fear has been that I'd never be able to enjoy making love with someone again. And once you came back into my life, I was afraid of what I'd have to go through to get over that feeling of what they did to me. Then once we started to get closer, I was scared to death of those memories. I was afraid that those memories would... infect us being together again."

He reaches up and pets her hair after she doesn't continue. "Did they?"

She buries her face into his shoulder. And after a moment, he feels her back jump, making his heart crack. "What will it take to put me back together, Arnold?" She asks over a throat clogged with rising emotions. "I just want to be whole again." She says just as he feels a tear his the skin of his shoulder. "I just want it to go away." She sobs.

He closes his eyes and curls her into his side, letting her cry herself out.