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Finding your Feet	By : DancingBear Category: +G through L > Hey, Arnold! Views: 13192 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold, nor any of the characters. I do not, and will not make any money from this story. (Original creator: Craig Bartlett)

Chapter List
- 1-Finding your Feet
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-5
- 5-6
- 6-7
- 7-8
- 8-9
- 9-10
- 10-11
- 11-12
- 12-13
- 13-14
- 14-15
- 15-16
- 16-17
- 17-18
- 18-18
- 11
- 12
- 13
"Shit, sorry Arnold, I'm running late." Emma grimaced as she opened her apartment door, her hair wet, a towel wrapped around her body.

"For what? We're just watching something here, aren't we?" Arnold jiggled the plastic bag in his hand. "I brought you Chocolate Macadamia…" He grinned.

"Oh god, you're amazing. See if there's room in the freezer? Or we'll have to eat it all in one go." Emma reached up on tiptoe to kiss him.

"Sounds OK to me." He snaked a hand around her waist, pulling her against him. "You should stay like that… it suits you." He kissed her back, harder.

"You like?" She pressed her hips forward. "It's just something I threw on." She was grinning against his mouth, her arms around his neck.

He chuckled, slid his fingers around her, the plastic bag bumping against her thigh… he found the edge of the towel, crept his hand beneath it. She giggled, pushed him away.

"Put the ice-cream away." Her cheeks were red, she grinned up at him.

"Yes 'mam." He nodded, watched her retreat into her bedroom. He managed to cram the ice-cream into her packed freezer, between a bag of beans and a chicken breast…

…"You OK?" He asked. She felt tense, his arms around her shoulders, his face pressed against her hair. She sat between his legs, lying on his chest, as they lay on her sofa, watching Serenity.

She sighed. "Do you get the feeling that we could… get serious… and have a perfectly happy life together?"

Arnold felt his breath catch. Whoa, heavy. "Uh…" he thought about it for a second… could he? Yeah… he supposed he could. Emma was sweet, she was smart and independent and dedicated to her work. They had been dating for a while and they hadn't so much as snarked at each other. Granted, they didn't get to see that much of each other, with her shift work n' all… but they were good, they were happy.

"Yeah… I hadn't really thought that far ahead…" he admitted. "But I like being with you." He kissed her hair.

"Do… do you kinda feel like it's too easy?" Her voice was soft… a little nervous. Arnold shifted, wary.

"What do you mean?"

She twisted around, squirming until she was facing him, her chest pressed up against his. Automatically, his hands moved to her ribs, feeling the slight weight of her. She was so little. It never failed to surprise him. She felt so small in his hands, always smaller than he was expecting, somehow.

"I dunno… like… this has just been so easy. It's… it's like we could just exist with each other… but we're not… like…" she sighed, her forehead creasing as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "OK… we've been dating for, like, over four months, yes?"

Arnold nodded, he supposed they had. He hadn't really been keeping track.

"Why haven't we had sex?"

"You wanna have sex?" He felt himself grin. His hands tightened on her ribs. "I'm sure we could work something out…"

She smiled, blushing again. "Yeah… I mean… argh." She shook her head. "It's like you're the perfect guy… you're smart and handsome and so sweet… but I just don't… I don't feel that head-over-heels thing, you know?" Her eyes pleaded with him, asking him to take her seriously.

He stroked her face. "Yeah… I suppose I do." The backs of his fingers grazed down her cheek. "We have done stuff though… I mean, we haven't been exactly abstinent, have we? I just thought we were taking it slow." They had never really talked about sex at all…

She shook her head again. "It's not just that… I just used it as an example… I mean, shouldn't we be fucking, or fooling around or something, every chance we get? Shouldn't we be unable to keep our hands off each other?" She shrugged. "I like you… a lot. But are we really… uh… like… falling for each other? Or are we just kinda going with it because it's easy?"

Arnold opened his mouth… but he didn't know what to say. She was right. He was attracted to her, comfortable with her… but he didn'tneed her. She was more a friend than a lover… she didn't keep him up at night, she didn't make his stomach roil with nerves. Wasn't that the way it was supposed to be? The whole best friend thing?

"It's like… I didn't even get nervous when we first started dating… I lie, I did get a bit nervous, but I didn't have that sweaty-palms, churning stomach thing." She wasn't looking into his eyes, but her gaze was at his throat. His hand trailed round to the back of her neck, stroked the soft, downy skin beneath her hairline.

"I get what you mean." Arnold said softly.

She smiled a little. "I… I want a… a big love… you know?" Her eyes flicked to his… he nodded in reply.

"Yeah, I know." He thought of Helga… of how scared he was of her. He didn't know what to think. Emma was right, what they had was easy, simple… it was probably quite healthy, as far as emotions go, they treated each other well… but they weren't in love. "We aren't… uh… passionate." He hated that word, but it fit, in this instance.

Her smiled grew, she looked relieved. She lay her head on his chest. "Have you ever felt that?" She asked in a whisper.

He swallowed. What the hell was going on? Was she breaking up with him? He tried to think about that, but he found he didn't really mind. It made him a little sad, but it didn't tear at him.

"Uh… yeah… I have."

"What happened?"

"I screwed it up." He sighed.

They lay in silence for a minute… he listened to her breathing, watched the slow rise and fall of her ribs as she lay on top of him.

"You're lucky." She whispered.

"I'm stupid." Arnold whispered back, surprising himself. What could he say? He had fucked up his chance at the very thing she wanted.

"Was… that the girl you had broken up with… when I first met you?" Her voice was muffled by his shirt, he stroked her head.

"Yeah… Helga." He didn't know what to say. The girl on top of him was asking about his ex… what could he tell her? That he was so scared of how Helga made him feel that he pushed her away… but he didn't feel that way about her? There was an amazing girl right there… but he just didn't have the same reaction to her.

He sighed.

"You should call her." Emma nuzzled her head against his chest, relaxing against him. Despite the shitty situation, he felt himselfstirring. It wasn't like he didn't want her… damn.

"I did… I don't think she wants to talk to me."

"You should try…" Emma's voice wavered a bit. "… you shouldn't just let that kind of thing go."

"Hey…" he put his fingers under her chin and tugged her to face him. "You OK?" her eyes were moist.

She nodded. "I'm sad… obviously. I mean… I want to love you." She shrugged.

"Oh sweetheart…" again, he didn't know what he could say.

She smiled. "It's OK, really." She leaned her head back down, her ear over his heart. "You won't stop being my friend though, will you?"

His stomach knotted. She was so sweet… and he really did care for her. "It might work out, you know… we might…"

She chuckled. "Lets not force it… if it happens, then good… there's no one I would rather fall for." Her hand fumbled for his, wrapped her fingers around his. "You date someone to find out if you have that, uh, spark. It's not the end of the world that we don't."

"How did you get so smart?" He squeezed her hand.

"I've always been this smart… the bimbo façade is just for show." She giggled.

Silence again. He had a lot swimming around in his head. He was single again… not that they had ever really made it official. He sighed. So that was that. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to just leave. It was nice, lying there with Emma curled up on his chest. He liked feeling close to someone.

He pressed a last kiss to the top of her head. "You wanna halve a tub of Ben n' Jerry's with me?"

…

He walked home alone, a few hours later. The rest of the night had been surprisingly normal. He supposed it just further illustrated how they weren't in love.

She had been sweet, lying on the floor with her feet on the sofa, spooning ice-cream from the carton, telling him about how her parents met, how in love they were… how she didn't mind being single forever, if it meant she never had to look at the person she was with and wonder what she was missing out on.

He didn't doubt she'd find what she wanted.

His phone was clutched in his hand, shoved as it was in his pocket. "Call her, Arnold… or go knock on her door. You should chase her… don't give up so easy." Emma had all but demanded that he try make things right with Helga. It was a weird conversation to have with the girl that had just broken up with him… but she was right.

One phone call wasn't enough. He didn't want to stalk Helga, or harass her… but he wanted to talk to her. He ran his thumb over the buttons on his phone. What should he say? Obviously, he should think about that this time, so as not to leave her another stunted, bumbling message. By the time he got back to his building, he thought he knew what he wanted to say… one thing in case he had to leave a message… another if she picked up.

He steeled himself, standing outside his door. He took a deep breath, not wanting to go in until he had called her… for some reason.

He found her number, pressed the call button. His heart thumped in his throat… he felt himself swallow, his breath felt shallow. This is what Emma was talking about. He was so nervous that even his eyes even started to go funny.

"Hi, you've reached Helga's phone. Leave a message after the beep."

He tried to swallow, to take a breath… his lungs felt tight… beep. Shit.

"Hey, Helga… it's Arnold." He closed his eyes… tried to concentrate on forming coherent sentences, on keeping his voice light. "I want to talk to you… I know I haven't done anything to make you want to talk to me, but I want to change that. If you just want me to fuck off, then let me know, and I'll leave you alone… otherwise, I'll keep trying. I want to make things right with you…"

He paused, forced his lungs to take in breath. It was surprisingly hard.

"Someone said some things tonight that made me finally realise how much of a mistake I made… how badly I screwed up. I can't think of a single thing I did right with you… I took you for granted… and I'm sorry." Was that everything he wanted to say? He should have written it down or something.

"I hope you're doing well. 'Nite Helga." He hung up. Somehow, he felt like he had said both too much, and not enough. He sighed, shoving his phone back into his pocket.

He went upstairs, took a shower, brushed his teeth, got ready for bed… He itched to check his phone every three seconds, but he forced himself to at least act like he was sane.

He was sitting on the sofa, pretending to check his emails, but actually wondering what Helga was doing, if she was already asleep, or hadn't checked her phone, or was ignoring his message again… when his phone jumped to life.

He flinched, grabbed it, swore as it fell out of his hand and bounced across the floor. Hopping on his one good leg, he focussed on balancing as he bent down to pick his phone up. His heart was thrumming, his mouth dry. His thumbs were suddenly so clumsy, he could barely work the buttons to read her message…

Helga – Try as hard as you want, Shortman.

Now… what was he supposed to make of that?
- 11
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Finding your Feet