A/N: Hey there! We're getting close to the end of this saga. There should be one more in this series after this chapter, but there is already a sequel in the works. I couldn't help it; I was obsessed with this story and wanted it to continue. (Lol) Here's the newest addition!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold.


"Ice Cream, Meet Ice Cream"

Friday came; The day before Prom. And Arnold was a nervous wreck. He sat at the edge of the bed, contemplating the two suits that were hanging in front of him, one gray, and one black. Racking his brain, about which color would go better with Helga's pink dress. A light knock on the door, however, broke him of his troubling thoughts.

"Heya, Shortman," his Grandpa Phil entered right afterwards, "Dinner's almost ready, although don't ask me what Grandma's cookin'. I think I saw something move down there." He shuddered.

Arnold continued to stare absentmindedly at his choices, as he replied in a monotone manner, "I'll be down soon, Grandpa."

The elderly man, a little slower in his older years, softly sat next to his grandson on his bed, offering a comforting hand. "Still in toils over your boyhood troubles, huh Arnold?"

He sighed. "Grandpa… when you and Grandma had your first… date… how did you know… how you felt about her? I mean, what exactly… did you feel?" He slowly looked up at the old man, in a last resort for any sort of answer that would be beneficial.

Grandpa perked up with a grin. "Why, Arnold, I was in love with her, o'course!" He thoughtfully added, "Took me forever to get there though, little imp wouldn't stop giving me such a hard time, I thought I'd never catch up! Ho oh! Oh, you're Grandma, she's a feisty one though, kept me on my toes, she did!" Grandpa chuckled loudly, as a thought came to Arnold suddenly.

He sat up quickly. "Wait a minute, I didn't know you and Grandma grew up together." He looked over at Grandpa curiously as the old man continued.

"Oh, sure, Shortman! Heck, who da ya think used to pick on me, and cause me trouble when I was younger?" He smiled.

A revelation hit Armold like a ton of bricks.

"That was Grandma?" He exclaimed, with widened eyes.

"Sure was! Oh, that little Gertie was the devil, I'll tell ya, but when we got older, she stole my heart." He lovingly looked out into Arnold's room with a lovesick glance he was certain he inherited for himself, recognizing the half lidded eyes. Dream Eyes, as Gerald called them.

His brain buzzing with questions, he blurted out, "Well, that's crazy! How come you never told me any of this before, Grandpa?"

"Simple, Shortman," he stood up carefully and cackled, as he reached the door, he added, "Ya never asked!"

Arnold rolled his eyes and shook his head with a smirk.

Only Grandpa.

"Oh, and Arnold," Arnold looked up."Yeah, Grandpa?"

A sly look overcame the old man's features. "Go with the black suit. Us Shortman Men always look better in black." He winked.

Arnold blushed furiously, as he mumbled a quick, "Thanks."

"Oh, don't worry Arnold. Your time will come. Just don't wait until you're 89. Trust me!" With a quick close of the door, he could hear his grandfather shout on the way down the stairs. "Pookie! What is that horrible smell?" But the sound of Grandma's cackling laughter couldn't help but make Arnold smile.

If they had a strange relationship, and they turned out okay… maybe then…

A light-bulb went off in Arnold's brain, as he went to the shelf above his bed and pulled out his Family Photo Album. As he flipped through the pages, he couldn't help but smirk at the similarities between the young Gertie in the picture, to the young Helga he grew up with. And somehow, as the photos grew with time, Grandpa's face changed from a frustrated scowl, to a lovesick grin, all the way to their Wedding Day.

If Grandpa came around, he thought… Maybe Gerald was wrong, he mused.

Maybe, he had more time than he thought.

With a close of his Album, he set it back on the shelf, and went downstairs for dinner.


Saturday night. The night was finally here. Arnold dressed up in his black suit and pink tie, (an addition he didn't think of until late that afternoon) with Helga's corsage in tow.

He pulled up to Helga's Brownstone, as he carefully parked the Packard off to the side of the street close to her stoop. Before he lost his nerves, he got out and rapped on the door.

And of course, Big Bob answered.

"Beat it kid, we don't want anything." Before he could slam the door in his face, Arnold hurriedly asked, "W-Wait! Mr. Pataki, I'm Helga's date… is… she ready?"

The door cracked open a few inches before Big Bob glared down at Arnold with questioning eyes. "Huh? Oh, right; the Prom thing. Alright." He rolled his eyes, letting Arnold inside.

"Lemme get her. Hey Helga!" He bellowed upstairs loudly. "You're little boyfriend Alfred is here! Better hurry up!"

Arnold blushed at Big Bob's reference ignoring the fact that he messed up his name. A silence followed as she yelled back, obviously just as nervous.

"Dad!" She exclaimed wildly.

"Well, c'mon kid, he's waitin' on ya!"

"I'm coming!"

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't take that tone with me, young lady! You get your keister down here pronto!"

"Alright, alright! Sheesh!"

Arnold couldn't help but smirk at Helga's gruffness at the situation.

But when the click of her door opened, and she appeared at the top of the stairway, Arnold looked up at her, jaw dropped, taking in the incredible sight before him. She slowly ushered herself down the stairs, so as to not trip over her long flowing gown. Helga, on a good day, was never really the girly, dressed up type.

For years, Arnold knew her to be the rough and tough tomboy that would beat up anyone who dared to even look at her funny.

But as she glided down the steps, a cascade of pink lace that followed her, his eyes fell to her shoulders of her thin pink straps, and up to her face that seemed to glow under a layer of blush and light glitter he had never seen before. Her pink ribbon that once held itself over her head in a bow that represented their youth, was now tied around her hair in a tight golden bun, leaving one strand to dust her face with its presence. The beads and lace that covered her bodice sparkled effervescent under the hall light. As he looked up into her crystal pools, he couldn't help but notice the undertone of natural tint that powdered her cheeks, as she made her way down to the final step.

She was breathtaking.

She looked around at everyone's ogling eyes and bashfully grunted, "Well, what's everyone staring at?"

It was Arnold's turn to finally speak, as he said in a breathy tone, "Helga… you look beautiful." A complement of which he didn't mean to come out so bluntly. From the look on her face, nor did she. "Um. thanks… Arnold. You don't clean up so bad yourself." She looked him over quickly, ignoring the pounding in her chest from not only his complement, but also for the dashing way he looked in a suit.

And boy, was he dashing.

Big Bob's usual gruff demeanor softened, as he looked from Helga to Arnold at their exchange. He glanced back at Helga with a sad expression.

Had she really grown up so fast?

He cleared his throat dismissing the moment, as he addressed her date. "Uh, listen here, Alfred-"

"Arnold," Helga growled.

"Right, right. Arnold. Uh," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "Just have her home by midnight. You got that?" He crossed his arms and looked as menacing as he could, raising his eyebrow in sternness.

Arnold cleared his throat. "Yes, sir, I will." Helga rolled her eyes. "Midnight? What am I, Cinderella?"

Without even thinking, Arnold confessed aloud, "No. You're way prettier than Cinderella." His cheeks burned with blush after he said it. Her eyes faltered, as they widened for a half second, before she said, "Uh, Alright!" She awkwardly chuckled, "Midnight it is! Heh, heh," She ushered Arnold out of her house. "C'mon, Footballhead."

When they got outside, he opened the passenger side door to the Packard for her, and helped her down the stoop. She made it to the end of the stoop, before Big Bob opened the front door again, watching them leave. His heart twitched, as he called, "Hey, Helga, uh… have a good time, girl."

Helga looked up at her dad with a curious look. "Uh, okay Bob, thanks."

"And don't be late!" He called back as she closed the door.

She didn't know what was weirder; Arnold's compliments or Big Bob's caring tone. She half smirked as she thought to herself.

Actually, she could get used to both.


They finally reached Slausen's, which was a little more packed than usual, given what a busy night it was. However, with their luck, the blonde pair was able to find a booth in the back. After a few minutes, the waitress took their order, and promised to return.

In light of not wanting to ruin her dress, she only ordered a chocolate milkshake.

He ordered the same.

He couldn't help but steal glances up to her glowing face, blushing as he did so. She finally caught wind and said harshly. "Take a picture, it'll last a lot longer."

He cleared his throat nervously. Suddenly, his nerves were jumbled for a different reason. "Um," he remembered, picking up the box next to him, "I got you a corsage… just like I said."

She blinked, her stiffness vanished, as she looked down at the clear box with the pink sparkly flower that rested inside. It was a light pale pink and it matched her dress perfectly. How he picked it out so well, he was still stunned.

He would have to thank Mrs. Vitello later.

"Arnold," She softly said in a tone she rarely used. "It's gorgeous." She glanced up at him shyly.

"Yeah," he haphazardly admitted, "You are." His eyes suddenly widened.

"I mean, it is. It, being the," He pointed to the flower. "I mean, you are too, in the dress and-" He awkwardly sputtered.

Helga couldn't help but smirk at his nervousness. "Hey, Arnold?" She interrupted.

"Y-Yeah?" He stuttered.

"Just shut up and put it on me."

"R-Right."

He fumbled with a box a moment, before apprehensively taking it out. "Um… where?" He pointed to the flower once more.

She held up her left wrist. "My wrist is fine, Arnold."

He nodded.

As he extended the band, and placed the flower around her wrist, hands still wrapped around her wrist, his eyes found hers once more, as curiosity shifted in him. A feeling he wasn't sure he had ever felt before. His breath hitched, as he dove into her eyes, searching for wordless answers to questions that were asked a lifetime ago. She felt him slide his hand into hers, as if it had belonged there this entire time. Something about the way she looked, presented herself, all of it; her tone, her smell.

It changed something.

Unlocked something, even.

"A-Arnold?" He heard her stutter.

"Yeah," His concentration slowed around him, as he lowered his eyelids at the girl in front of him.

"Are you okay?"

He blinked for the first time he felt, since they had been seated. He realized he was still holding her hand, glancing down at their predicament. No wonder she was staring at him like he was crazy.

Maybe… maybe he was crazy.

"Uh," He quickly pulled apart from his date, mumbling, "Sorry. Yeah, I'm fine." He glimpsed up between her face and her hand, undecided which he could really focus on.

"I-" He started. "Helga… there's something I wanted to tell you…" He trailed off. Maybe he was crazy. Maybe… he liked it.

"I-"

"Alright! Two chocolate milkshakes, here ya go!"

And just like that, the moment had vanished.

He blushed profusely at the waitress at hand, as he politely and very awkwardly said, "Thanks."

"No problem!" The waitress was lost on his demeanor, as she cheerfully replied, "Let me know if you need anything else!" She scurried off, as they sat in silence, drinking their chocolate treats.

Helga braved the moment, completely unsure of herself as to what could possibly be happening between her and Arnold, as she quietly questioned, "So… what were you gonna say?" Her fingers toyed with the sides of her cup.

A sense of panic filled Arnold, as he no longer had the courage to say what he originally wanted to say. Instead, he chose, "Oh, uh," he looked away bashfully, "Just that… that… you look really nice." He huffed out with an embarrassing sigh.

The moment had been lost.

He chickened out.

"Oh," She blushed slightly. "Well… thanks." She quietly sipped her milkshake, as he kicked himself for not telling her the truth.

What was the truth exactly?"

He wasn't sure he even knew anymore.

"Yeah, you're welcome." He nervously responded. As he looked down into his milkshake, a new feeling filled his soul, his guilt wrestling with this new emotion that he couldn't describe.

But whatever this feeling was… he knew one thing… the apprehension about taking Helga to Prom in the first place… was long gone.


A/N: Oh man, this is getting real! One more chapter after this! I have a couple side stories as well that are being completed as we speak, as well as a sequel to this series! Also, if anyone out there can, I'm reaching out to my artists to illustrate her dress scene. It was actually that scene that made me create this story in the first place. Something about her dress I just absolutely loved. So if anyone is up for the challenge, please, feel free and let me know!

As always, thank you for the reviews, and I'll see you Lovlies in the next chapter! :)