Okay, so I'm on a bit of a 're-do' drive with some of my earlier, and unfinished, stories and it seems this one is my newest victim! I'll be rewriting the original chapters and also adding in a few extra chapters. Including one where Gerald and Harold find out the mystery girls identity :)

As usual, if anybody is keen on doing any art/drawing to be the stories picture (esp. of Helga's costume?) then by all means, I'd love you to.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hey Arnold.


Arnold Shortman groaned as early morning light hit his eyes and rolling over lazily in whatever comfortable bed he had managed find himself asleep on, he lifted a hand to his pounding head. Blinking away the fuzzy vision from his eyes, he lifted himself slowly onto his elbows, allowing him to peer out over the room he had woken up in.

Gerald was sound asleep, little snoring noises escaping his throat every so often, across the opposite side of the large and rather extravagant room. Luckily, the sheer size and luxury of his current location brought back the memory of arriving at Rhonda's house for a party the previous night.

Aside from that, he found any memories of his time spent at the Lloyd mansion on Friday night, were rather foggy, lost in the distant haze that was currently clouding his mind. Reminding himself never to drink that much again, even though he didn't remember having all that much anyway, he rolled over again toward the side of the bed and swung his legs to the floor.

Rather reluctantly, considering how sore his body currently was from sleeping on a foreign mattress, no matter how soft it may have been, Arnold wandered his way over to the door, which clearly had a small note stuck to it.

Breakfast served from 10am in the main dining room, Rhonda xx

Arnold blinked, wondering what time it currently was, it was fairly bright outside after all. Digging through a pile of jackets and bed sheets, he managed to locate Gerald's trusty watch, which currently confirmed the time as 10:15am. Glad for the chance to make breakfast, Arnold left Gerald to his peaceful slumber, and slipped out into the hallway.

Next, he needed to remember where the nearest bathroom was, and if he thought hard enough about it he vaguely remembered there being one a few rooms before the staircase that would lead him downstairs. Hoping a cold splash of water might clear his head a little, he moved toward his destination, still trying to dig up little pieces of memory from the previous night.

"Impressive hang-over face, Football Head." teased a voice Arnold didn't hear all too often these days.

Quickly, he lifted his head to look at Helga, and once again whatever he was about to say got caught in his throat as his eyes rested on her. She looked the same as always, her entire body swamped in baggy clothes that made her head look so small in comparison to the rest of her. However, he did notice that her usually dead-straight hair, which was pulled back into her customary tight ponytail, was nicely curled.

Actually, just looking at her hair seemed strangely familiar, it even made his head hurt. Overall, that made very little sense because he had never seen Helga with curly hair; this had to be the first time. Maybe that was why it felt so strange...

"What planet are you on this morning!" Helga's voice hissed, again interrupting him from his thoughts.

Arnold was rather surprised she was even talking, or rather yelling, at him at this present moment anyway. Helga had largely avoided all conversation with him for years. Currently, her annoyed scowl was slightly downplayed by the light coverage of last night's make-up, despite the fact that he could tell she had made obvious attempts to wash most of it off.

He managed to mumble a, "Sorry." as she stormed past, obviously headed down the stairs and toward the dining room.

Sighing, he watched as she left, her long blonde hair swishing across her back to the movements of her hips. However, something else was catching his attention at that very moment, a very faint hint of sparkling gold on her arm, barely peeking out underneath the long sleeves of her t-shirt.

Sparkling golden lines, that seemed to be stuck in his mind a little, and if he thought deeper he could remember the image of an entire ring of golden swirls, making their way around somebody's upper arm. Somebody tall, with long blonde hair...

Suddenly, his head hurt even more, and last night's memories came rushing back to him in waves.