Another little something for my friend ~InvisibleDeath of deviantART, based on one of her artworks. We're quite a team, you see. XD She draws something based on my fanfics, and I write something based on her drawings. :D
So here we go. This little story...I guess can take place after "One Question", since they're married in this one. XD And it's pure, cute and sweet fun yet again.
And we all love a pregnant Helga! :D OwO Credit for inspiration goes to Pyrex Shards for the adorable fanfic "Kick".
Once more, characters are not mine. Sadly. XD
Something is also wrong with , I haven't been able to upload a new document here!! What's going on?! I've had to replace an existing document with all this. Sheesh.
Helga sat on the sofa, her feet propped up on the ottoman, eating some chips and watching some TV. She was dressed in a simple white, strapless frock that hung to her ankles, and of course, over her protruding very pregnant stomach.
As hard and excruciating as it had been the past seven months with the mood swings, the cravings, the morning sickness, swollen feet, occasional cramping, among other things, it was all well worth it. Helga was ready for this. She was more than excited to live a dream come true. Here she was now, at the tender age of 26, about to have her first child with her beloved. The one she loved since she was three, the one she'd been with since the age of ten, her husband of nearly one year now, Arnold.
Sighing dreamily, Helga looked at the time again. It was 3:35, around when Arnold would get home from work. He was a well-to-do psychologist, and one of the top best in Hillwood, working in the same building as his now colleague and friend, Dr. Bliss, Helga's psychologist throughout her childhood and some into her teen years. The child psychologist was now a friend of theirs, often getting together with them for dinner and chatting it up.
Helga was an attorney of law, and often dealt with court cases, and also on the side, as a divorce attorney. That was when she and Arnold would team up, which happened sometimes during quite a few cases. She would refer the couple to him, so they would have a good outlet to get out their problems and what had gone wrong and see what they could do to cope and how to handle things, while she handled the legal matters.
Aside from their careers, they studied Archeology, Anthropology, and even with medicine. Four months of the year was usually spent in traveling to different countries, sometimes along with Arnold's parents, Miles and Stella, whom also helped them with their studies, since Stella was a doctor, and Miles was an Anthropologist, and they both studied and traveled around many countries. It had been quite amazing, full of great adventures and seeing many exotic countries.
After all, that was one of Helga's dreams, to travel the world with Arnold. He of course, like his parents, wanted to do the same. So that dream was met! For their honeymoon, they had gone to Italy for two weeks, and then three months later went on a Safari expedition in Africa. And just before Helga found she was pregnant, they had been down in Borneo, and then up in Central America to San Lorenzo, where they visited the Green-Eyed people.
In all, it was such a wonderful life.
Now Helga was here, on maternity leave, married for nearly a year to her beloved, she was a successful attorney, 26 years old, expecting their first child, having traveled to so many places and learned a lot of things along them, and living in a quaint apartment in downtown Hillwood with a gorgeous view of the city and the waterscape.
Life was just awesome. He had proposed just shy of a year and a half ago, and they'd gotten married on October 19th, the very same day they had gotten together all those years ago at the age of ten and he'd confessed he loved her too, back in the middle of the dense jungles of San Lornenzo, soon after their journey to find his parents had ended. They now came to celebrate both anniversaries on that very day.
The door opened, and Arnold walked in, setting his bookbag down next to him and removing his jacket. He looked at Helga with a bright smile.
"Hey, fatty." He teased her, loosening his necktie. Sometimes he just couldn't resist calling her that.
"Hey!" Helga said in mock offense and shock, and smirked. "Well just for that you have to help me up, football head."
"Don't mind if I do." Arnold chuckled, shutting the door and going over to her, taking both her hands and standing her up gently.
"Now take this!" Helga grinned and punched him playfully in the stomach. Not hard enough to hurt him, of course, just enough to send a tinge of discomfort. "Old Betsy Strikes again! You just watch what you say!"
Arnold laughed a little, doubling over a little and holding his hands over where she'd punched his abdomen. "I love you too, Helga."
Sure Helga had mellowed out, and she was one of the nicest, sweetest women you could ever meet, she was still Helga, with her feisty attitude and fiery temper. And he just loved her for it.
Helga smirked and stuck her tongue out at him. "You're too much, football head." She stood back near the bay window and smiled, holding her arms out. "Now don't you have a proper way of greeting your beautiful, smart, and very pregnant wife, Arnold?"
"Why else would I save the best for last?" Arnold smiled more, and went over to her, kissing her sweetly and holding her as close as her pregnant stomach would allow.
She melted and kissed back, playing with his hair a little bit with her hands, before they separated, nose-to-nose with each other, all smiles and wonder.
"So how are my two favourite people doing?" He then asked, gently stroking her stomach.
"We're peachy, it's been a pretty lax day." Helga said with a smile, placing her hand over his. "We had a pickled beat, avacado, peanut butter, jelly, eggs, pastrami and cream cheese on sub buns for lunch today."
Arnold's face scrunched into a look of pure disgust, but he laughed a little bit. "Eww. I don't know how you do it Helga, but I sure admire you for it."
She giggled and stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh, shut up. You've seen me eat worse, football head."
"Whatever you say, hammerhead." Arnold winked at her and went to the bedroom to change clothes.
"So what time are Miles and Stella coming?" Helga called after him, removing some magazines and books from the dining room table.
"Around six, I believe." Arnold replied from their bedroom.
"Okay, sounds good. I put the roast in the oven about twenty minutes ago, and the side dishes are all ready, they just need to be heated up and served." Helga said, following him into the bedroom.
"Then I guess we're all set. Dad said he was going to bring a specially imported champagne from Spain."
"No fair. I don't get any!" Helga mock pouted. Sure, she didn't mind a select few alcoholic drinks once in a blue moon, but she wasn't a drinker at all. No, she wasn't about to follow in her mother's footsteps.
"That's never bothered you before, silly." Arnold pulled on a casual sweater, then brought his arms around his wife from behind, kissing her on the cheek. He gently rubbed her stomach.
Helga sighed softly and leaned back against his chest, closing her eyes in pure bliss.
"Then I suppose we'll have to think of an alternative for our anniversary." She said, giggling.
"Shouldn't be a problem." Arnold smiled, and playfully nibbled her ear, and then lay a kiss on her temple. "We'll have had our little baby by then, so I don't think it'll be much of a problem."
"Oh, you're good." Helga smirked lightly, placing her hands over his on her stomach. "So, think of any names yet?"
"Yeah, I've thought of a few." Arnold gave a nod. "Did you?"
They didn't know if their baby was going to be a boy or a girl. They wanted to be surprised, and so in the meantime decided to just try out some name ideas if any came up.
"Really? Well, let's hear it." Arnold smiled.
Helga smiled then too. "If we have a boy, what would you think of the name Philip for his first name, and his middle name can be Miles?"
The football-headed man's eyes widened considerably, having not expected that at all. He then melted into a warm smile and nuzzled her cheek with his nose.
"That's a great idea, Helga. I don't think I could have thought of a better name. Grandpa really deserved it, after all."
"Hey, he was the man who raised you, and was awesome in his own rights." Helga smiled more. "And then your dad. Well, that's obvious."
Arnold chuckled and hugged Helga tighter, rubbing her stomach some more and looking down at her womb. "You're too much, Helga."
"You're too much, football head." She raised Old Betsy again, and they laughed. "Did YOU think of anything?"
"Well...yeah, pretty much."
"Well you have our boy down, no doubt about that. So if we have a girl... I think Geraldine Stella would be nice."
"After my middle name and your mom?" Helga asked in surprise, turning to face him.
"I think it's nice. Geraldine is a really nice name." Arnold admitted sheepishly. "If you're not comfortable with that, no problem. We'll think of-"
"It's fine, Arnold." Helga chided gently, and turned around in his embrace, her arms going around his neck. "Philip or Geraldine it is."
With a relieved smile, Arnold kissed her sweetly and then sat her down on their bed, kneeling down in front of her pregnant stomach.
"Hey. Hello? How are you doing in there? We're pretty anxious to see you soon, little one. Philip, or Geraldine, whichever you turn out to be... We'll love you so much and give you a wonderful life as best as we can." He kissed her stomach and pressed his cheek against it, feeling for a kick.
Nothing. Helga ran her fingers through his hair, giving a soft sigh.
"No kicking today, I guess. Funny though, the baby was kicking so much this morning. Don't be disappointed, the baby can hear our voices, so it's not like your efforts are wasted."
Arnold nodded and stood back up. "You're right, Helga." He smiled and took her hands, helping her to stand. "Why don't we get some last minute things together, and we'll watch some TV until Mom and Dad get here?"
Helga grinned at him. "Sounds good to me." She punched him on the arm playfully, and they shared a laugh.
"Old Betsy Strikes again..." He said, smiling and rubbing the spot.
"She does, honey. She does."
Holding hands and smiling at each other, they retreated out into the main room of the apartment, with Old Betsy now gently squeezing his hand in return.