Lines of communication began to open between them both. They both took it slowly. They would take a walk in the park. They would go to a movie, talk about the school work they were doing. Arnold would sit in the room and read while Helga drew or wrote or drew, or painted. He had snuck a look at what she was writing. It was poems, and the beginnings of a story, with an outline on what was to happen. Helga slowly returned to her snarky self, not just with him, but with others, too. When they sat their final exams, they passed. Everything was looking up for them but for one down point. His grandma.

When the court date came to extend the protection order, Helga told no one, and didn't attend.

She had not been well, and Helga found herself taking over some of her duties. She started cooking the dinners. She would clean the house. Admittedly she did it better than his grandma ever had. When Oscar said as much, Helga snapped at him that she had youth on her side, and that he should show more respect. And what was his excuse for being so damn useless? Everyone was stunned by what she said for a moment, before Ernie burst out in loud laughter, and Mr Hyunn started to chuckle. Suzie hid a smile behind her hand. Oscar put his head down and never said a word of complaint about anything while Helga was around again. Though everyone had a laugh at the outburst, it was anything but funny to Helga, and it hadn't meant to be. Gertrude's health declining, was affecting Phil's health as well. And that affected Arnold. And that affected her. It seemed that the other boarders didn't take notice at all. It frustrated her.

Early one summer morning everyone was woken by a cry. Arnold was banging down from his attic room, Helga and the other boarders left their rooms to see what was going on. Arnold went into his grandparents room, then rushed out to the telephone, calling 911 and demanding an ambulance. Helga looked in to see Phil sitting on the bed, holding his wife in his arms and crying. She covered her mouth and took a step back. Arnold went back in, while Helga went downstairs, opening the front door for when the paramedics arrived.

When they did they pronounced her deceased. They took her body away, Phil trying to go with her.

"There's nothing you can do now, Grandpa," Arnold said, looking shocked, and with tears in his eyes. Helga watched him carefully, as the tears slipped from his eyes.

Death seemed to follow her where ever she went, it seemed. Her parents, her tutor, that girl in the maze, her sister, now Arnold's grandmother . . . in two years, six people had passed, five of whom she cared about. She went to her room, closing the door behind her. Was she cursed? Had she upset some higher powers that be? Was that it?

. . .

The whole atmosphere in the boarding house changed. For the days leading up to the funeral, Phil wouldn't eat. They tried everything, and even the threat of ending up in hospital didn't help. In the end Helga got him eating yogurt and drinking water. But little else. Arnold was trying to be strong, but it was hard on him. She wasn't just his grandma. She had been the only "mother" he'd ever known, too.

On the actual day it was only Arnold, his grandfather and his Aunt Mitzi, who was wheeled in by a nurse, who sat in the front pew. Helga sat at the back. There were so many people, including the Mayor, who described her as the biggest personality Hillwood had ever had. When it was over, people were hugging Arnold and Phil, though it seemed to go straight over his head. The worst part was watching as the pallbearers carried the coffin out to the hearse. Helga kept back. Once they were gone, and while guests mingled, she made her way back to the boarding house with Arnold. While he sat in the living room, she went to the kitchen, where Suzie joined her moments later, helping prepare and set out food for the mourners who would come to the house. And they did come, and eat, and share stories, and catch up and then leave. It was left to her and Suzie to clean up, and Oscar was the one who complained about it all, though he didn't lift a hand to help. One glare from Helga shut him right up though.

Once it was all over she had a shower, then went back to her room. She straightened it up, though it didn't need it, and then sat down to draw. But couldn't. So she tried reading, writing, but none of it seemed to work. She couldn't shake off a feeling of guilt. Like, if she hadn't come here, just stayed where she was, her sister never would have fallen down the stairs, Arnold's grandma wouldn't have died.

"You idiot, she was old and sick, she would have died whether you had been here or not," she snapped at herself. "Your not responsible for Death's choices!"

"She probably would have died sooner, to be honest," she heard Arnold say from her doorway. "She was doing too much on her own before you came to stay. When you came and started helping, it was good, It meant she and Grandpa got to spend more time together. Even Grandpa says so."

He came further in, his eyes red from crying, and sat on her bed.

"They've been together for almost seventy years, Helga," he told her. "Seventy. Can you imagine?"

"Yes," she replied honestly. "I can."

"Really?"

"When I look at you I can," she admitted to him.

"You can?" he asked, leaning towards her. She nodded, and wrapped him in her arms, where he cried, and she kissed the top of his head.

"Only with you," she whispered.

. . .

Waking up next to Arnold the next morning, felt so natural to her. She laid on her side and just looked at him. He was fast asleep, still in the shorts and t-shirt he'd worn last night. He'd fallen asleep while in her arms, and she'd had fallen asleep not long after. Somehow during the night they'd both managed to get into a proper laying position. Sh reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, then stopped. Was she being creepy? She sighed and went back to lying on her back.

"I was enjoying that," he said. She looked at him and he smiled.

"You were? You didn't think it was creepy?" she asked. He shook his head.

"Why would I think it was creepy?" he asked, closing his eyes again.

Because it was something Steven would do to me, she thought, but said nothing. It was the first time she had thought of something between them being weird or odd or creepy. Would she always do this? Would she always be careful with what she said and did in case it reminded her of something he said or did to her, or she did to him? What if Arnold said or did something that triggered her? She sat up and looked down at her pillow.

"Helga, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting up as well. She looked at him and forced a smile.

"Nothing," she said. "We should probably get up."

"I don't want to," he said. "I just want to lie here and close my eyes and pretend everything is normal."

"Then you're going to be lying there a while," she said, picking up her pillow and hitting him in the face. "Come on Football Head, fight me."

He was taken back for a moment, before smirking and grabbing the other pillow and going to hit her back, but she blocked it with hers. So he tried again. Helga was getting more hits in than he was, and he cried foul when she got off the bed.

"No rules!" she shouted back at him. So he jumped off the bed and grabbed her around the waist, picking her up and throwing her down on the bed then used his pillow to hit her in the face. When he lifted it up to hit her again, she reached up behind his head and pulled his face to hers and kissed him. He dropped the pillow and kissed her, both hands instantly grabbing the side of her face, their kissing becoming more and more passionate. Helga grabbed the bottom of Arnold's shirt and pulled it up. He got up on his knees so she could pull it off over his head.

For him, the rush he was getting from this was replacing the feeling of sorrow. For Helga it was just passion, with all of herself. Just the touch of Arnold's lips on hers, on her skin, sent electricity through her. He could wind her up with a look, his voice, his scent, everything!

Then suddenly he was pulling away from her!

"No, no, we can't do this, not now," he told her breathlessly.

"What? Why?" she asked, just as breathless.

"I just . . . I can't, I'm sorry," he said, pulling away from her grasp and leaving the room.

"Why?" Helga cried. "Please, just tell me."

"After-"

"Steven? Is it because of what happened with Steven?" she demanded, standing up from the bed.

"Helga-"

"Forget it," she hissed viciously. She got up and pushed past him.

"Helga, stop!" he called out, but she ignored him, flying down the stairs, daring fate to trip her and send her crashing to the bottom like it had to her sister. But it didn't. Instead she made it to the door and ran, Arnold calling out tot her the whole time.

He didn't want her. She was ruined in his eyes He'd always see her as damaged goods, and if he did every other guy would too, wouldn't they? She saw a bus at the stop and jumped on, digging into her pocket for her wallet. Thank God she hadn't changed into pajama's or a nightie last night! Thankfully she hadn't removed her clothes. She threw change at the bus driver, who grumbled about her, and dropped down onto a seat, letting her tears fall, and buried her face in her hands.

She didn't see Arnold standing at the bus stop helplessly as it drove away.

. . .

"Oh, shit," Arnold said under his breath, running his hands through his hair. How could he have been so stupid. It had all come out wrong, or been taken the wrong way. It had nothing to do with her having been with Steven, and everything to do with him just wanting to take it slow for her sake. He was trying to form the words in his head, but she hadn't given him a chance. He wasn't as fast a thinker as she was, or as eloquent with his words. He noted the bus number was one that went into town. All he had to do was wait for the next one. But how would he know where she got off?

He needed help, and to get that he ran back to the boarding house.

. . .

Helga looked outside the window and realized she recognized this area. Somewhere around here Steven had an office . . . there! She pushed the button and at the next stop the bus pulled over and she got out. She stood there for a moment, looking around. If she remembered rightly, it was the street she just went past, so she backtracked and followed another road to the familiar looking building. It was an older one, but on the inside it was completely modern. There were several businesses in the building, and she looked up Steven's, then made her way to the elevator, then stopped and turned around and made her way out, but stopped at the door, and turned around.

On one hand, she wanted to see him, on the other she didn't. How would he react to seeing her after everything that had happened? Would he be angry or happy? She hadn't extended the protection order, and yet he hadn't tried contacting her, even after that day in the cafe. Maybe he didn't want to know her now?

"Are you alright Miss?" the security guard asked, coming over to her.

"Um, yeah, just . . . I'm looking for Steven Stonefield," she said.

"Oh, I think he went out to a meeting a little while ago, but I'm sure if you go up to his office his secretary can contact him or you can wait," he told her.

"Yeah, I know, I'm just not-

"Helga!" she heard a man call out. She looked up and her breath caught, and her heart stopped, she swore. There he was in all his tall, handsome, glory, striding towards her with an unsure smile. "What are you doing here?"

"I . . . I don't, um," she stuttered, looking down at her shoes and trying to calm herself down. It felt like her heart was going to fly out of her chest, and she felt like being sick, but at the same time she felt happy seeing him. It was so conflicting.

"Come up to the office, and we can talk there," he said gently, turning her around and placing his hand on the small of her back, and leading her to the elevator. Once inside she stood there quietly, glancing at him every so often, and he did the same. When they got to their level and got off, he told his secretary to hold his calls. He had a family "emergency". She raised an eyebrow, but nodded and went back to her work after throwing Helga a stink eye. Helga glared at her, and she looked away.

"Well, she's a bitch," Helga muttered, as she dropped into a seat.

"I can't be too long with this, Helga," he told her, taking a seat behind his desk. "I have a flight to France in the morning, and need to prepare some things."

Helga got up. "I don't know why I'm here," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you extend the order?" he asked.

"I don't know, I guess I didn't feel threatened by you," she told him.

"Whose idea was it?" he asked. Helga shrugged. "Your eighteen now."

"Yep, big enough to make my own decisions," she told him, holding her head high. "No one's the boss of me."

Steven smiled. "Do you want to come with me to Paris?"

Helga's eyes went wide. "Are you serious?" she asked, sitting down again. He nodded.

"There was a University you were thinking of over there, wasn't there?" he asked.

"Yeah . . ."

"Well, here's your chance to go there, look around and decide if you like it," he told her, smiling. "Then, if you do, we'll work something out."

Helga sat back, stunned. Did he just ask her to fly away to France? Like, tomorrow?

"I can get you a ticket, meet you there, or pick you up from somewhere," he told her, and she could hear the urgency creeping into his voice. he had been trying to play it cool. He grabbed her hands in his. "Come with me, Helga."

"I-"

"Why don't we go get some lunch?" he suggested. "You can think it over."

Helga just nodded, stunned.

. . .

Later that night a worried Arnold heard the door open, then close and looked to see Helga walking in.

"Where were you? We were all worried about you," he yelled.

"I needed to think," she said vaguely, starting up to her room.

"And you couldn't text someone, or ring and let us all know you were okay?" he demanded, following her up. He heard his grandpa call out his name in a warning tone, but he ignored him. "Well?"

Helga continued walking to her room, and as she went to enter Arnold blocked her.

"Look, you got the wrong idea, okay?" he told her. "I know it sounded . . . I don't know, but it probably wasn't in the way you thought."

"Are you going to England for University?" she asked suddenly. Arnold took a step back, and she used that as a chance to enter her room.

"Are you serious?" he asked, following her in. "I haven't heard back yet. In any case, no, I won't. My grandma just died. My grandpa needs me here. I'm going to go somewhere closer."

"Pity," she said, pushing him backwards out the door and slamming it in his face. She stood there for a few minutes then went to her drawers and grabbed her passport. She must be crazy! She was crazy. But she wanted to get away from here, away from everyone. Just away, and Steven was offering her that chance.

She was going to take it.

. . .

At the airport she saw Steven waiting for her near check-in. She was so nervous, she felt like she needed to pee, even though she just had. Going through all the checks, they were finally on the other side and just had to wait for their flight to be called. She was looking over his itinary, and saw he wasn't going to have a lot of free time in the first couple of days, but it was a seven day stay.

"You can always go exploring while I'm in meetings," he told her. "There's no reason for you to stay cooped up in the hotel."

She smiled, and started planning out her trips and where she would go visit. Her phone started buzzing for the hundreth time in her pocket, but she ignored it. it would be Phoebe, or Arnold, or Lila, or someone wanting to know where she was. She was sure they'd all figure it out pretty soon. They'd go looking for her at Steven's, find out he was overseas and no doubt check into her, and she that she, too, was overseas. She finally took the phone out and looked to see it was indeed, Phoebe.

She debated answering it, but then decided against it, just as she heard the boarding call for their flight show up on the screen and over the intercom. She took a last look at it, before quickly deciding to send her a text, saying she was fine, and safe, and she just needed time to herself and would get back to her in a week. Then she switched off her phone, grabbed her carry on and followed Steven's lead to first class.

. . .

Phoebe looked over at Arnold and Dr. Bliss.

"She didn't answer, and now it's going straight to voicemail," she told them, when her phone pinged. She saw she had a text message and opened it to see t was from Helga. "She's fine, she just needs time to herself and she'll get back to me in a week."

"A week?" Arnold asked. "Well, where has she gone?"

"She doesn't say," she told him, shaking her head.

"We should get the police involved," Arnold said.

"I'm not sure there's a lot they can do, Arnold," she told him. "She's over eighteen, and she's sent a message saying she's safe and taking time to herself."

"Yeah, but-"

"We'll see what happens when she gets back," Dr. Bliss said. "In the meantime I will look into seeing what I can have done to prevent her from pulling a stunt like this again."

. . .

"You didn't bring much with you," Steven commented, nodding to her bag.

"I just grabbed some clothes, and money," she told him, and opened her bag, pulling out the box. "And this."

Steven smiled.

"That set belonged to my mother," he told her. "My father gave it to her when he proposed to her."

Helga looked at him, eyebrows rising, as a strange feeling came over her. She looked down at the set again, eyes on the ring. She picked it up. "So, this was her engagement ring?"

"Yeah, it was," Steven said, taking her hand and slipping it on her ring finger, smiling at her as he did. "So if anyone asks, your taken."