Disclaimer: I don't own Hey Arnold, but I did give blood the other day – 1 pint in 5:13 (new personal record!). This, well, I'm not sure what it is, but it kinda entered my mind while watching Robot Chicken on [adultswim]. Read, Review, and Spread the word.


The hot sun beat down on the moderately innocent people of Hillwood City as they journeyed too and fro in their daily lives. One young woman smiled as she exited a terribly ordinary office building with a yawn and a stretch. The team had pulled another all-nighter, and she felt the strong need for a cigarette, a cup of coffee, or both. Preferably both.

Rubbing the exhaustion from her eyes, she pulled out a pack of cigarettes she was forbidden to even think about during those long hours around the collaborating tables. It was a prison for all the writers of Hillwood, really, to be jammed into a small conference room and forced to talked about where to put one stupid line or other; what dumb action was needed for the pregnant teenager to perform so she could find the people on the lost island before going to work as a detective/crime scene investigator/lawyer and solving all the cases within an hour. Ok, so maybe that wasn't what they had been working on, but she was dead tired and suffering withdrawals – irritable exaggeration was allowed.

With a grateful drag off her cancer stick, she leaned against the side of the building, shielding her eyes from the harsh sun as the hustle and bustle of air conditioned cars continued on the main street. Just as she was halfway done with her cigarette and puffing like mad, a blur of dark colors whooshed past her. What kind of dunder head would wear dark clothes in this heat?

Watching the figure run with half-lidded eyes, she laughed out the last bit of smoke. A mugger, no doubt. Just as she was about to stamp out her filter, a loud and firm voice called out from behind her.


And with that, she was on the ground with a rather cute twenty-something guy entangled with her limbs. He was only trapped for a moment, before jumping up with a quick apology, and was after the perpetrator once again. She just sat there, on the ground, watching his back disappear in the haze heat creates, confused and stunned. Did he just? Was that?

Did she just see who she thinks she saw?

"Rose! Sweetie, are you ok?" a maternal voice rang out, and Rose Caldwell looked up to see Ester Thompson, one of her coworkers and close friends standing over with a look of absolute concern.

"Hey." Rose mumbled, and Ester's brows furrowed.

"What happened?" she asked as she held out a hand for her friend. Rose returned her gaze to the crowded street, the man's silhouette long gone.

"I think I just got tackled by Monkeyman."


It was another rather warm day, but not nearly as bad as the one a few weeks ago. Rose had just stepped out of the Red Cross Center, a purple bandage wrapped tightly around her right arm. There was a smirk on her face that purely smug satisfaction.

"5:13, new record." Pulling off the little band aide on her left ring finger, revealing a tiny purple bruise around a tiny purple whole. Poking it once or twice to feel the pain tingle through her hand, she moved to her pockets, pulling out the pack of cigarettes that had created a permanent square bulge in her jeans. After a few starter puffs, she lowered it to continue one of her favorite hobbies, people watching. The donation center was right across from the local park, so there was no shortage of subjects.

She had just begun watching a young blonde woman who looked at lot like a girl her little brother Brainy had a crush on for most of school. What was her name, Helga? Well, whatever her name was, Rose watched her walk with a brown haired man – and they were definitely a cute couple. He bought her a chilidog, and Rose saw a glittering of an engagement ring on the girl's hand.

Good for her, Rose thought, everyone deserves someone.


Rose was once again on the hot concrete sidewalk, watching bemused as the young man with a brunette mullet removed himself from her, to chase after some neighborhood bully she never saw.

"Sorry." He offered quickly, and Rose wondered why her heart fluttered softly at his voice. She barely had time to nod before he was gone.


Did that just happen, again?


The Sunday afternoon was cooler than normal as Rose left the church, Ester beside her as the two women stopped on the stairs. Both were moderately devote Catholics, although were also devote believers in the separation of Church and State. Most in their little congregation were the same, but not terribly vocal about their opinions. Rose pulled out her cigarettes from her purse, while her companion sighed.

"You know Rose, those are bad for you." Ester pointed out, and Rose laughed.

"True, but I'll smoke until the day I die."

"It may also be a sin, I think."

"I'm a Catholic, not a Saint." Rose smirked and Ester groaned. Before another word could be exchanged as they stepped onto the sidewalk, a courageous call echoed all around them.


"Shit." Rose groaned and turned around, only to end up on her back beneath the young vigilante. He looked down at her, stunned for a moment. Of all the times they had ended up on the ground together, this was the first time she was underneath him with them face to face. He had to admit, she was pretty. Really pretty.

"Hey." He mumbled in a daze, and her smile stirred something within him.

"Hey." Was her reply, and that something grew. It was like when he looked at those magazines with the mostly naked, god-looking women, only better. Without realizing it, he started to lean down, while she started to lean up. Slowly, so slowly, and yet so close . . .

"Monkeyman?" Ester asked, and it was then the two on the ground realized where they were.

As if burned, Monkeyman jumped up, and with one last fleeting glance at the woman still on the ground, took off down the street.

"MONKEYMA-AN!" His voiced cracked slightly at the end, and Ester nearly died of laughter as she held a hand out for her friend.

"And just what was all that about?" the answer she received as dazed and barely directed towards her.

"I don't have a clue . . ." Rose mumbled, still looking towards the direction he went after her friend helped her up.

"I think someone's got a crush." Ester sang, and was rewarded with a soft punch in the arm.

Needless to say, the cigarette was forgotten.


Standing outside her mother's condo, Rose could still smell the Marijuana and green tea. It was Wednesday, her one day off in the whole freaking week, and she usually spends it with her mother. Her pot smoking, record playing, almost always naked ex-hippy sketch artist of a mother. Every time Rose goes there, she's given an obscure brand of green tea – probably home grown, knowing her mother – while her mom smokes from one of the many bongs she owns, and they listen to Pink Floyd and songs of their youth.

She had heard about the latest run-in with Monkeyman, and had decided to tell Rose that she should get with him as soon as possible.

"You're not so young anymore, Rose. If you don't hurry up, your grapes will turn into prunes." Rose remembered with a choked laugh.

"Mom, I'm only twenty four."


She finally allowed her laugh to escape as she tried to hail a cab. Just when on finally stopped for her, she heard the call that was quickly becoming routine.


"Oaf." Rose choked out as she was once again on her back beneath Monkeyman. He was smiling at her, and made no move to get up.

"Hello again." He greeted cheekily, and she smiled.

"I'm starting to think you've got a thing for me." she laughed, and he smiled in this quirky way. With no come back, Monkeyman leaned down and did what he had been thinking about trying since he first ran into her long ago. And she embraced it wholeheartedly.

When they pulled apart, smiling with a soft pant, he found a twinkle in her eye that made his chest swell with masculine pride.

"I'm Rose."

"Connor." Rose laughed, and Connor kissed her quickly again.

"You know, we gotta stop meeting like this." he laughed as well, and jumped when the cabby honked the horn. Helping her up, he opened the door for her while holding out a hand.

"Share a cab?" he asked, and she smiled while kissing his cheek.

"Sounds great, but what about the perp you were chasing?" he paled, looking over her shoulder and down the street before returning to her face. Pulling her close, he kissed below her ear, and whispered.

"I caught her."