I have changed the rating of this story to "M" due to this chapter. This is the second-to-last chapter. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed!

An hour, another beer each, and an empty bag of carrots later, Helga and Arnold were sitting across from each other on the bed. In between them was a pile of red cards and they each their own stack hidden from each other's view. Helga's eyes were narrowed, contemplating her next move.

Arnold was leaning back on one hand, holding his cards up but not so Helga could see them, smirking. His arrogance at winning so far oozed off of him, which only infuriated Helga even more. Suddenly, her eyes widened and she sat up straighter. Looking up at him, she grinned.

"Queen."

His smirk rose. "Go fish."

"No way! You asked me for that card three hands ago!"

He just grinned, shook his head and pointed to a pair of Queens to his side. "Sorry, Buttercup. Too slow. Picked it up last 'go fish.'"

"Ugh!" Helga pouted and picked up another card from the pile. Arnold was four pairs ahead of her. She absolutely hated to lose. "And don't call me that. I'm not a damn Powerpuff girl."

"Then stop looking and acting like her."

Helga just rolled her eyes. "Says the football-headed kid."

"Hey, you can change your appearance. I can't."

Rolling her eyes yet again, she leaned down to retrieve her beer, only to find it empty. Setting her cards face down, she hopped off the bed. "Do you want another?"

"Sure." He watched her walk away before casually leaning over to sneak a peek at her cards. "Lagunitas? And don't you dare look at my cards, you cheater!"

He laughed and sat back, grinning innocently towards her. "Never!"

Arnold had to admit that the last couple of hours had been kind of fun. Maybe it had to be attributed to the beer, although he doubted that since they really hadn't had that much, or maybe it was because they were finally relaxing towards each other. He wasn't sure exactly when it was that they started to chill instead of bicker, but he had to admit that it was kind of nice.

In High School, they hadn't been terribly close. Sure, they wasted time with the same group of friends, but it wasn't like that went out of each other's way to hang out. He had never really had a problem with Helga. At least not since eighth grade when she finally started to calm down with her negativity and crankiness.

He remembered when she started to take pride in how she looked. Instead of slouching over, he could remember her walking with her head up high walking through the halls as she chatted with Phoebe, or whoever, and he felt kind of proud of her. Once in high school, she started dating Travis, whom had become really good friends with him and Gerald, so it just kind of worked out that they were always part of the same group.

As he watched her now, bending over in the fridge to dig out a couple more bottles, he could really appreciate how she had developed. Her hips were narrow, but she still had a waist, which was accentuated but her shorts. Normally he wasn't attracted to super skinny women, but Helga could pull it off. It was probably because her ass wasn't flat and actually had some curve to it.

Ever since she hit puberty, and maybe even before that, he always thought Helga had been attractive. Every year she got hotter and every year his attitude got worse with her. He wasn't exactly sure he was such a dick to her, but it was probably because she was always such a bitch to him.

Oh, who was he kidding? The only reason why she acted the way she did was because he would try to start something with her. He hadn't really said much this entire afternoon, but it had all be pleasant. Neither were at trying to suffocate the other.

Helga jumped back on the bed, forcing his neatly stacked doubles to slide around. "Hey!" So much about being pleasant. He playfully glared at her and proceeded to fix the cards.

"What, Football Head? Don't get your panties in a twist." Handing him his beer, she picked up her cards with a grin. "You know I'm going to beat you."

He just laughed. "Not today, Pataki. I've already accepted my crown. Aces."

Helga blanched. "You looked at my cards!" She glared accusingly, handing him her Ace.

Arnold just smirked.

The game ended quickly. Arnold's win allowed him to choose the next game and he didn't hesitate to start War. It had been one of his favorites when he was really young, first learning card games with his grandpa.

It was a mindless game, allowing them to play without having any real need to concentrate. They chatted aimlessly, bringing up memorable events from their childhood and adolescent days.

"And so now you know why I'll never eat another Boboli pizza again."

Arnold just made a face and laid down a card. A seven. "Yeah, mold on anything would do that to you. Especially when it's supposed to be fresh."

"Oh, god, speaking of fresh, guess who I ran into earlier this week." Nine. Her win.

"Who? Santa? I heard he was vacationing here." Three. Dammit.

Hooded eyes casually watched him, waiting to see his reaction. "Laura."

"Really? Damn, I haven't thought about her in years. How is she doing?"

"Fine, I guess. She has three kids."

He gaped at her, not really noticing her dominant win with a Queen. "Three! Are you serious? She's only a year younger than us!"

"Yep, three. Four, two, and thirteen months. I was pretty shocked too, especially about the four-year-old." Six.

Arnold stayed silent for a moment, frowning deeply. A sudden cold chill ran down his back. "Are they all from the same father?"

"I didn't ask, but I think the two youngest were. They looked almost identical. But the oldest, I think she said his name was Aiden or Caiden or something, but it's so obviously Stinky's."

Arnold stared at her, mouth slightly dropped. "Stinky's the father?" He didn't put down another card, still reeling from the information.

"Oh yeah, no doubt in my mind. He looked so much like him it was kind of creepy." Helga stayed silent then, watching him, wondering if he would be able to put two-and-two together.

"Wow, that's just…crazy. She was 17 then."

Helga nodded, waiting for him to resume the game. Ten.

"She was my first."

Helga blinked up at him, acting as if she hadn't already known, and laid down a five. "Really? I thought you guys were only together for a couple of months."

"We were. She wanted to keep doing it, but it made me feel really uncomfortable. I guess Stinky was next." He made a slight face. "I feel bad for her. I had no idea."

"There was nothing you could have done, Arnold. It was her and Stinky's decision. It's not like you pushed her into it."

"Still feel bad." Eight.

"Travis was mine." Another six.

"Really? Didn't you guys break up just before the end of Freshman year though?" Two. Damn.

"Yep. That jerk. I saw him making out with Deborah Valentine."

Arnold was surprised at that. He had always heard it was mutual. He told her as much.

"Nah. It's just what we told people. He didn't want to get a reputation for being an asshole and I didn't want anyone to think someone could cheat on me and get away with it."

Arnold frowned deeper. King. "So did you guys hook up when we went to Portland Senior Year?" Arnold hadn't missed that she and Travis had been apart from the group at one point, missing the group lunch. Helga's response was just a shake of her head. His eyes widened after a moment, shocked at the only alternative time he could think of. "But you were 13!"

She just shrugged. "Yeah, well, since when did I do anything that was normal? I mean, looking back, we were totally stupid. And if I heard any kids that age even thinking about it, I would smack some sense into them. But whatever. I guess you could say it mellowed me out." Helga grinned at him. Nine.

"You were never really that bad, Helga. I think everyone knew that once we got into middle school." Nine. Three cards face down and one up: five.

"Just because I never beat anyone up doesn't mean I wasn't a hell child." Four. Dammit! She pushed her cards towards him.

"I wouldn't say that," he grinned. "You were always looking out for me. I have no idea how many times you saved me from those poisoned puddings. And who knows how many times I could have gotten hit by a car if I hadn't run into you. And all those damn mosquitoes and bees that were obviously landing on my head. It was always so sweet of you to kill them with those spit balls."

Helga laughed at him. It made Arnold's chest feel lighter and he leaned back on his arm again, watching her. "Oh, shut up, Mr. Brightside." It was then that her stomach decided to loudly protest. She laughed again and put her hand on it as if that would stop the grumbling. "I guess this calls for another break. Food time!" She leapt off the bed, narrowly kicking over her beer, and hurried over to the kitchen. "I'm thinking dinner. Obviously, Pheebs and that good-for-nothing boy toy of hers won't be coming by and dropping off a pizza."

Arnold followed her. "Hey, he's good for something. He's got food, doesn't it?"

"Well, doi. But that's because of Phoebe. I think I saw some noodles in that cabinet. Spaghetti and turkey meatballs sound ok?"

He made a face as he reached into the cabinet she pointed at. "Turkey meatballs? That sounds disgusting."

She laughed. "Geeze, don't diss until you have it. You can hardly taste the difference and it's healthier for you."

"Since when did you care about healthy foods?"

"Since Phoebe tied me to a chair one summer and made me watch some documentary about the food industry. I still have nightmares." She forced a shudder for effect and started to boil some water.

Twenty minutes later, Arnold was sitting on the bed with a delicious plate with the suspicious meat. He had grabbed the remote before sitting down and propped up a couple of pillows between him and the lattice-like headboard. The pillows were pretty thin but he was just glad that the mattress was soft enough. Helga was dishing out her plate and walked over to sit on the other side of the mattress.

"How much do you want to bet that this place only gets the news?"

Arnold nodded, agreeing with her before turning on the TV. The Suite Life of Zack & Cody blared through the speakers and with a grumble, he quickly switched the channel. Static. Click. Static. Click. Static. Really? "You'd think that they could at least fork over something for-" He was instantly cut off by the image on the screen. Eyes bulged out as he momentarily stopped, shocked, at the only other channel that this god-forsaken room had.

Two very naked women were pressed up against each other, rubbing something, probably oil, on the other woman's breasts. One woman moaned and arched her back and exposed her neck. And just as the brunettle leaned down, he quickly changed the channel. Static. "Uh…"

Helga was in a fit of laughter. Did that just happen? She laughed harder when she saw Arnold's very obvious uncomfortable expression and bright red face. "Geeze, Arnold-o, you look like you've never seen porn before."

He scowled at the TV, not able to look at her. "I have too." His eyes widened at what he had just blurted out and finally looked at her. "I mean…! That's not what I meant!"

She just laughed harder, falling back onto the bed, not worried in the slightest if any spaghetti slipped from her plate. Her mouth attempted to form words but only heavy laughter came out.

"Well, so much for the news," he grumbled and turned off the TV. He tossed the remote away, not wanting to have anything to do with it. Only two fucking channels and they couldn't be more opposite. He glared at her as she continued to laugh at him. "You can stop now."

"But your face! Y-you looked like…" she trailed off, laughing again. Unable to resist, he laughed lightly with her, his face still red. "Oh my god, that was great."

"I'm surprised you didn't freak out…" Not yet brave enough to try the turkeyballs, he took a bite of the pasta. It was good.

"Psh, why would I? It's nothing I haven't seen or done before." She smirked and chewed her pasta at the sound of him choking. "Don't die on me, Football Head. I can't call a doctor."

"You what?"

"Hey, I'm a college girl. Aren't we supposed to experiment in college?"

Arnold averted his stare when he realized that instead of seeing some faceless brunette, it was Helga who was pressed up against the woman, rubbing some sort of oil on her breasts.

She laughed. "I'm just kidding, geeze." Too late. That image was forever seared behind his eyes. Fuck. "But seriously, stuff like that doesn't freak me out. I'm not a prude who thinks that sex, or watching porn, is taboo. My roommate used to watch it all the time. If anything, it's more annoying than a turn on." She took another bite, chewed, swallowed. "Maybe I'll change my mind in a few years after I don't have to worry about walking in on Nikki and her les-porn, but for now…meh."

Arnold shifted on the bed, having completely lost his appetite. When the hell had she gotten so…well, he wasn't sure what was the word. Not vulgar. Not crude. She'd always been brash. He cleared his throat, hoping it would bring down the sudden increase of temperature in the room. Fat chance. "How about we talk about something else?"

"Whatever floats your boat, Football Head. You know, three Spring Breaks ago, I went to Cancun with a couple of girlfriends. And you wouldn't believe just how fucking hot it was there. It was so hot, the AC in our room busted and we had to sleep mostly naked," she laughed and sat straighter. Her back was getting a little sore from bending over so long. "We even tried to get into the pool one night but we almost got kicked out. You'd think that the resort would have let us stay since they were having so many electrical issues with their ACs, but they didn't care. No one in the pool after midnight! Then we flashed the guards and they let us jump in for a few minutes. Ah, good times."

Oh, god, how could this night get any longer?

Helga had made up the story about Cancun. Well, sort of. The AC had gone out, but it came back on an hour later. It was also just her and Pheebs, but she wasn't going to tell Arnold that.

She had no idea how easy he was to get uncomfortable. It gave her a thrill to watch him squirm. They had fought consistently for the last 12 months, with each visit worse than before, and Helga never once thought he was such a fudd. She knew it wasn't because it was her saying those things and she was kind of surprised he wasn't fighting back. He just sat there on the bed, staring at his plate, eating the spaghetti she had cooked. She was proud to be a spaghetti-cooking expert.

The Cancun story elaborated a little bit but she stopped before she got too into it and got caught in her lie. Not that it mattered. It was just to see him get even more uncomfortable. She took a sip of her beer and decided a change of topic was for the best. "So, what do you think of Phoebe and Gerald-o together?"

He was relieved but a bit taken aback but the sudden change in conversation. "Fine, I guess."

"That's it? Just 'fine?'"

"Hey, I'm not a gossiper. I don't know what you want me to say."

"Tell me how you feel about it."

He pondered for a moment. "I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. It seemed like they were always chasing after each other in high school, but they were never really single at the same time, were they?"

She shook her head. "Nope. But I agree. Phoebe never admitted it, but I think she always secretly hoped that Gerald would show up at her door and steal her away to some romantic getaway."

He was surprised at that. "Really?"

"Yeah. She's such a hardcore romantic. A lot of people don't realize that, though. She totally buys into that white-knight, Rapunzel crap. I mean, I don't think she really ever thought that Prince Charming would ever show up while she waited in a corner, but, oh yeah. I can't tell you how many romance books she's made me read."

Arnold would never have guess that Phoebe was like that. Sure, he knew girls liked all that romance stuff, but Phoebe was always so logical. "Made you, hmm?"

"Yep. She forced my eye lids open, A Clockwork Orange-style." Finishing her pasta, she patted her stomach. "Man, am I stuffed."

"Yeah, this was actually really good. And you're right, I couldn't really taste the difference."

Helga beamed at him. Growing up, she never really got a lot of praises but she soaked them up whenever she did. "Thanks! And told ya so. Glad I could get you on a healthy path, one step at a time."

""Hey, just because I said I liked it, doesn't mean that I'm going to only get that. The guys would have my head if I showed up with ground turkey."

"Do you guys actually buy groceries then? And cook?"

Arnold grinned widely at her. "Nope. Not unless one of their girlfriends are over. We always just order out or eat at the cafeteria."

Helga rolled her eyes and picked up the plates. "Figures."

"Here, let me take them. You cooked, I clean." She raised an eyebrow at him but didn't protest when he took the plates from her and headed to the kitchen. Instead, she took over his spot leaning against the pillows. They were comfortably silent, Helga sitting on the bed and picking at her nails and Arnold in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes.

"I feel kind of bad," Arnold said, breaking the silence. "Eating Gerald's food, I mean."

Helga scoffed and sat straighter, stretching out her legs in front of her. "Whatever. He's the reason why we're here to begin with. Where are those two, anyway? I'm beginning to wonder if they're even going to show up. Maybe they forgot about us. Hope you didn't have any hot plans tonight, because they got abducted by aliens. We're going to rot here."

He laughed at her explanation. "Actually, I did have plans…with Gerald, that traitor." He walked back in the room after drying off his hands and flopped horizontally at the foot of the bed. With a deep sigh, he laid on his back with his hands behind his heads, staring up at the ceiling. "We were going to talk about our dreams and girls, maybe do our nails, but hey. At least the company here isn't so bad."

Helga grinned at him, feeling that all-too familiar flutter in her heart. She knew he wasn't being terribly honest, since he hated her and all, but it still made her feel like a million bucks. Even after their spats from the last year. "Aw, thanks, Sweetie. You're not so bad yourself. Ya know, for a crazy, witchy cat lady, I think I can be pretty awesome." Using her feet to kick off her Rocket Dogs, Helga felt bold enough to put her heels on his thigh, crossing her bare feet at the ankle. A shiver ran up her calves at the contact of his jeans.

Arnold slightly flushed, feeling embarrassed. Again. But whether it was because she was consciously touching him for a substantial length of time or because of the awful thing he called her this afternoon, he wasn't entirely sure. "Sorry about that…I didn't really mean it."

"Of course you did, but it's not a big deal. I've been called worse."

Arnold frowned and turned to face her, his hands still behind his head. "Really. I'm sorry. I've been thinking about us since we've been locked in here, and I don't really know why, but I guess…you just kind of get under my skin." It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't entirely the truth either.

"Hmm." Helga stayed silent for a moment, not really sure how to respond. Was that an insult? Was it meant to ease any tension? The sudden heaviness of the room made her sit up, cross her legs underneath her and resume playing with her nails like earlier. "Maybe it's because we've never really talked before. I mean, I did pick on you a lot. And then we were kind of just forced to hang out. And regardless of what you say, I know that at least Gerald resented that."

"Maybe," Arnold responded carefully, still looking at her. "But I didn't resent it. I don't remember what I first thought, but I know it was never that. Probably shock more than anything." He grinned, trying to lighten the mood to go back to how it was earlier. He sat up on his side, propping himself up on his arm, and poked her knee. "I mean, hanging out with my bully? Never thought it could happen."

Helga gave him a small smile. It had taken until her dating Travis to "get over" Arnold. But, really, she never did. Not truly. No one ever really gets over their first love, and she had loved him for so long and so hard, she doubted she would ever truly get her heart fully back. "Yeah, I remember Gerald-o freaking out. He thought I was going to make him miserable."

"But you just ignored him. He was constantly thinking you were going to jump out at him one day or something, but you never did."

She laughed a little at that. "Yeah, I can see him thinking that. I may have played up on it too, but don't tell him that. He turned out to be an OK guy though. I'm glad he and Phoebe are together."

It was so different seeing Helga so relaxed. She was always so uptight and angry. True, in high school, she wasn't that bad, but she always seemed to want to get into a fight whenever she saw him. Maybe that behavior was partially his fault. "You're really pretty when you smile. You should do it more often."

Her heart flipped when he said that and she was momentarily taken aback. Then she scoffed at him. "Excuse me? So you're saying I'm not pretty when I don't smile? And who says I have to smile all the time, anyway? Just because I'm a girl, I'm supposed to always look pretty and smile at everyone? That's a load of bull, Arnold. I'm disappointed in you."

His eyebrows frowned in slight confusion. "Are you being serious?" Relief washed over him when she laughed.

"Nah. Well, yes, actually I am. But I know what you're trying to say. So thanks." She smiled at him and, feeling bold and comfortable again, stretched out her legs over him once more. Her knees bent slightly over his hip and she scooted slightly down the bed, lounging against the pillows. "It is weird, though; this last year. I mean, with Gerald and Phoebe acting all lovey-dovey to each other, and then you and I constantly fighting. What a contrast, hmm?"

"You're telling me," he mumbled. He was very aware that her very smooth legs were on him and he mentally cursed himself for wearing jeans. "I am sorry, though. For being such a jerk to you."

"Please, Arnold," Helga rolled her eyes. "I was equally much a jerk to you. Of course, you were always the one to start it." She grinned, teasing him. Even though it was true. "But I know that you were just intimated by me."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "Yep. Being how awesome I am and everything. It's only a natural reaction."

He chuckled. "Oh, is that how it is."

"Well, of course it is. What other explanation is there? Po has nothing on my awesomeness, even with his whole kung fu mastery."

He smiled at her. "While that may be true with Po, I don't think that's quite a good enough excuse for my behavior."

"Hmm. Maybe you thought I was a vampire and was trying to get Gerald to join my vampire-zombie harem them."

"Impossible. You go out in the sun."

"Uh-huh, but only the oldest, strongest vampires are able to withstand the sun. We've built a sort of immunity to it."

"So all the legends are wrong?"

"Of course! How else do you think we've been able to survive this long. All the stories you've heard of us are not even closely accurate. Except the drinking blood thing."

He smiled and reached over to her legs. Gently lifting them up, he sat up to better face her. "And how often do you have to drink? Being all-powerful that you are." It didn't escape him how her a shadow of nervousness fell on her face. Or that she sat up slightly straighter. The shadow was gone almost as fast as it had shown up, but he had definitely seen it.

"Oh, not too often. Once, maybe twice a week or two. It just depends on what we've been doing."

"Like…physical activities?"

"Sure. Or…power stuff. I mean magic. We can hypnotize our victims, you know." Was it just her, or was he moving closer to her? Unconsciously, she reached up moved her hair behind her ear.

Arnold, noticing this, reached up himself and grabbed her wrist, pulling it to his chest. "Oh, I know."

Helga's heart slammed hard and was stunned into silence. What was he doing? Was she just imagining the way his voice was getting lower? She tried to pull away from him, tugging her arm as hard as she could from his unwavering hold. "Arnold, let me go."

He smiled at her and slightly relaxed his left hand on her wrist. "I can't, Helga. I've waiting to do this for years." His lips oh so gently brushed against hers. It was almost feather-like and was one of the softest kisses he had ever given. An electric volt slammed into him before collapsing into a burst of warmth and desire.

When her lips responded to his, he deepened their kiss, his hand sliding down to the back of her neck to pull her closer to him. But when he felt her arms around him, her hands gently resting on the back of his head, he let his body take over.

His kiss was demanding and hot. Fueling his desire, his tongue slipped through her slightly parted lips and held her closer still. Her body was surprisingly soft against his hard muscles. Every other thin women he had made out with were hard and boney, but not Helga. Her breasts were full and fit perfectly against his chest, almost to perfection.

His lips softened against hers, seducing rather than demanding. Warmth ran down his neck and back when her hand slipped through his hair. He mirrored her action and sighed as his fingers moved through the silkiness of her cropped hair, just then realizing how soft it really was.

Sparks continued to sizzle through his body as he pulled away. His breath was shallow, matching hers and his eyes were heavy. He couldn't remember ever having such an explosive kiss like this before.

Not knowing what to say, he looked evenly at her, his chest still pressed up against hers. A sly smile lifted her lips, only inches away from his. Her arms slid tighter around his neck, bring him to her once again. "Really, hair boy? Is that all you've got?" Her voice was low, husky from his kiss as she repeated the same words she had recanted to him just this afternoon for an entirely different reason. He groaned as his lips fell onto hers once more.

Arousal coursed through his veins and he lowered her more onto the pillows. For years he had watched her grow and mature, and for years he had listened to his male classmates talk about her like she was some sort of sexual object. In the past, he would shut them down, reminding them that Helga was their friend, but it wouldn't always work. But then she had gone away for college and he didn't see her for those first two years.

Then she was there again, sexier than he remembered. And this time, the asshole he had to protect her from was himself. So instead of allowing any sort of friendship with her, he had pushed her at arm's length the only way he knew she would respond to: anger.

Even during their spats, he still desired her. The way her full bottom lip would flare out as if begging him to tug on it with his teeth. The way she stood with her shoulders back and chest out as if begging him to press his face into her breasts.

His hands were on them now, under her thin shirt. She moaned in response and shifted underneath him, pressing innocently against that sensitive, hard area between his legs. Helga's hands worked at the hem of his shirt, pulling upwards. Without hesitation, he lifted his arms and she tossed the offending fabric aside before lightly raking her nails down his chest.

He bit back a groan, having always been responsive to women's nails on his body. Goosebumps formed from her path and he broke away from her lips. As her hands found their way to his back, he pressed against her once again, kissing an invisible trail down her neck.

Nipping at the apex between her collarbone and throat, Arnold reveled at the way Helga's body pressed up against his. Annoyed with the barrier of her shirt, he pulled at it, not unlike she had done moments again. Without hesitating, she arched her body up against him. Her bra was peeled off moments later.

Not waiting for permission, he dipped his head down and took a tight nipple in his mouth. Her hands were in his hair once again, holding him close to her. Some of the most pleasurable sensations Helga had ever experienced shot through her, causing the snake in the pit of her stomach to tighten. She needed more.

"You're so hot," he murmured in the valley between her breasts, lightly nipping at the skin there. "So soft." Her nails roamed over his back, pressing softly and then hard into his skin. She was rewarded with a groan and a nip of his teeth on her nipple. Her hips lifted on their own accord against his and she stayed there for a moment too long.

Arnold pressed down against her, needing her. His framed her face with his hands, begging. "Please, Helga. Say yes."

Her breath came out in short bursts as her heart pounded hard against her breastplate. Oh Arnold. How could she every say no? "Yes."

His lips found hers once more and he drowned in the essence that was Helga.

He never wanted this night to end.