By popular demand...here's a bit more. This is all though; the fun of a story is the journey, and now, they're heading back home. Thank you for all the reviews and praise, I hope you enjoy :)

His parents had finally fallen asleep, weary as they were from the adventure that was the past few days. Arnold had spent a few hours talking to them, but once the sun had set, exhaustion set in. Arnold was still too wired to sleep, looking about the small area of the coach reserved for his class. He quickly spotted a telltale pink bow a few seats in front of him.

He crept out of his seat, around his parents, and quietly walked towards where he'd seen Helga.

Looking in, he saw Helga scribbling away in her journal once again, with Phoebe asleep at the window.

He smiled, whispering gently, "Hey...mind if I join you?"

Helga looked up drowsily, then blinked herself awake, "Oh, A-A-Arnold...y-y-yeah, sure, I mean, there's a free seat there, s-so..."

"Thanks, Helga." He grinned, slipping into the seat beside Helga, accidentally brushing his arm against hers as he made himself comfortable. She pulled it away immediately.

"D-don't mention it, Football Head." Her voice had mock protest in it, but her heart was long gone from her normal façade.

He sighed, still smiling, "So...long week, huh?"

She looked at him with a faint smile before looking down, her voice softening, "Yeah...it sure was."

"So I didn't forget, you know." He said quietly, but with confidence, his hand gripping the armrest as he looked at her.

She knew. The little looks he gave her for the past few days when he thought no one else was looking; the little smiles when no one else was around. Helga knew he hadn't forgotten, but she still didn't believe it was true. She couldn't believe it, no matter what. Not the fact that he liked her, but that someone found her worthy of being noticed in any sort of positive light. She couldn't accept it, not after her whole life had been a means to being noticed. Not when she was so undeserving.

"I...I know, Arnold." Her voice was sad, a deep, rumbling alto as she whispered her response.

"Hey," his voice caressed as his hand reached towards hers, grabbing it despite her pulling it away, "what's wrong?"

"N-" her voice cracked, "-nothing, Arnold. It's...nothing." The sadness leaked from her voice and into her features, and she couldn't meet his eyes.

"It's not nothing," he squeezed her hand, pulling it towards him, "you've been acting down ever since we got out of that hole, and I kind-of want to know why."

"Why does it matter to you, Arnoldo?" Her voice had a little bit of bite to it, but it was still deep and exposed.

"Because...I care about you, Helga. I really do." His arm slid around hers, fingers lacing as his shoulder touched her. Despite herself, she leaned against him. She swallowed, looking up at him timidly.

"I..." her voice trailed off, a dark whisper, "I can't believe this is happening."

He tilted his head, voice quiet, "What do you mean?"

"This," she shook her head, "I don't deserve...this." Her voice broke on the last word.

"Helga," his warm tone soothed, thumb running over her fingers, "you do, though. I know you don't think it, but...you do."

She didn't respond to that, instead curling into herself. She still didn't pull away, but she was tense.

"Helga, I like you," she winced, lip quivering as he spoke, "I really do. It just...took a while for me to figure it out." He loosed his fingers from hers, arm sliding free, making her look at him in fear for a moment, as though she was convinced he was going to leave her right then and there. His smile widened, and he slid his now-free arm around her shoulders, "I just want you to be happy. Even if that means...you bullying me, or...whatever it is you'd want to do. I don't want to see you like this."

"Yeah, well...get used to it, Bucko," she mumbled out, "I'm not perfect...trust me, I'm not."

He sighed happily, "No, you're not, and that's what's so great about you. But still...whatever you need to do to be happy, do it. I've dealt with it all enough. I get it now."

Weakly, she shook her head, and Arnold pulled her slightly, letting her rest against his shoulder, "I don't...deserve this, Arnold."

He half-smiled, voice reverberating through her, "Yeah well, neither do I. But I guess I got lucky, huh?"

She rolled her eyes, a breathy snort her only response before she spoke, "Arnold...you're so strange."

"Yeah, and you're not?" There was jest in his voice, and in the dim lighting of the plane, their eyes met for a moment.

She finally smiled, "Yeah, well...m-maybe I just know how to pull it off."

He laughed lightly, his head leaning against hers. She sighed wordlessly, closing her eyes.

A soft gasp, "Helga, is that..."

"Go back to sleep, Phoebe. This is all a dream."

Phoebe gave a curt nod and a smile, whispering, "Sleeping!"

Helga sighed, snuggling against Arnold's sleeping form.

She thought to herself as she drifted off:

I could get used to this...