A/N: Pink Ribbon is back! Thanks to all you wonderful reviewers out there, past and present! Reviews allow me to keep my thumb on the pulse of the readership, they're so valuable. They provide the carrot that I need sometimes. Writing is a painful process for me since this is just a hobby with little reward for a job well done. Sometimes it can zap the will to write away. I mean, how many people outside of the HA fandom will actually read this thing? I'm willing to bet, not too many. So keep the reviews coming folks!

A/N2: That sounded like a pledge drive… -_-

X X X

Chapter 10: Angles

Counting the number of dates you've been on with one hand can be depressing if you get right down to it. Arnold mentally counted the meager number in his head again. It fluctuated wildly with his mood. Occasionally he counted his "almost dates" with Lila and other girls. He could almost approach six, but who was he kidding? When a date faltered almost as soon as it began, or the girl he was with clarified what he feared, that their date really wasn't, then it was almost like the girl had taken a hacksaw and chopped a finger off so he couldn't count it.

So what made Arnold at least a little giddy was the idea that Rhonda kept on using the word date in reference to their planned "nights out on the town." Two dates over the course of the week! In fact the word date seemed to be one of Rhonda's favorite words, especially if the sentence also contained his name along with the word "darling."

He found the idea of Rhonda having a crush on him very intriguing. I mean, come on, this was Rhonda Wellington Lloyd he was thinking about. The richest, the hottest, and the most popular girl in school, and while she spent most of the time hooking his arm, this night, while Arnold and Rhonda walked side by side to their destination, chatting excitedly, Arnold had grabbed her hand, and held it within his grasp.

Rhonda belonged to him now, and he had to admit his baser instinct told him that this was bragging rights. As they walked down the short distance of sidewalk towards their destination, he could take in her profile. He felt his heart race a little at the surge of hormones that would course through his hot blooded male veins at every curve and angle he could see. Something about her tan spiced her figure appropriately, the red t-shirt she wore looked comfortable and he just wanted to wrap his arms around her hourglass, and touch honey lips that seemed pearlescent against the harsh street lights. Even her childish nose seemed sexual.

Yet there was another part of his mind, a deeper and more secluded part, would draw pictures of Helga again and again like chalk on a blackboard. And when that idle little part of his mind would finish, out came the eraser, and another image replaced the last. It told him he would be happier to have Helga's hand, to feel the pulse of her heart through his fingertips again. That when he had a chance to trace her face with his fingers and touch his lips to hers, his veins would be so hot he would almost melt inside of his skin. Helga would have to hold him up to keep him from becoming a puddle.

"Are you okay?" Rhonda asked Arnold softly. "You seem distracted."

This broke Arnold out of his introspective and he gathered their surroundings. They had just reached the destination of Rhonda's quickly planned date. Arnold shook his head and smiled half-heartedly. "I'm fine, sorry." He squeezed her hand reassuringly and let go.

He looked up at the sign of the building. It was a simple white sign that said 'St. Anne' on the top with the words 'Soup Kitchen' immediately below. The building itself was on the grounds of St. Anne Cathedral in downtown Hillwood. The towering gothic style cathedral dated back almost to Hillwood's founding and provided an imposing backdrop to his internal struggle. He felt like a nervous little mouse trying to find the correct turn in the maze that lead to the cheese.

He still couldn't get over what Rhonda had suggested they do for their first night out as he stared at the small brick red building connected to the side of the cathedral. The sign had spots where the paint had chipped off and there were dirt trails of rust where water had run. There was even an old and rusty "fallout shelter" sign ominously informing Rhonda and Arnold that this building would somehow be 'safe' if the Soviet Union attacked.

"This is all going so fast." Arnold said, not taking his gaze from the building. He had only yesterday asked Rhonda to be his, and now they were dating on the second day. Perhaps it wasn't the fastest but for Arnold it all seemed quick. Then again, when Rhonda's chuckled and Arnold looked at her curiously, he knew why.

Amused brown eyes stared into his and he just had to wonder what was beneath that earthen brown. Her eyes didn't seem to invite him to swim more than they attracted him to bury his mind deep within their gaze. They were most certainly not Helga's, but there was this idea, that if he held Rhonda's gaze long enough, he would fall in love with her and get swept away. It would release Helga from her bonds to him and they'd both be better people…

…Yeah right.

"It's not like couples have to wait a week before they can go on their first date." Rhonda closed her eyes and shook her head. He noticed the smile on her lips, it was so attractive and it made him hang on her every word. "Besides, this is a different kind of date. I know you Arnold," she looked away and folded her arms. "You might enjoy this." She finished with a slight tease in her voice.

He couldn't believe his ears. If he wasn't mistaken, Rhonda Lloyd was trying to seduce him into volunteering with her at a soup kitchen! Oh the irony! Who would have known? Arnold's apprehension broke into a few giggles.

"What?" Rhonda eyed Arnold curiously. "What's so funny?"

"Uh… Nothing…" Arnold caught his giggles and pushed them down his throat while he shook his head and looked around. Around them were people walking into the kitchen. Mostly there were vagrants, and a few volunteers. Occasionally they'd stop and look at the display before them, and smile at Arnold before continuing on, as if they knew Rhonda.

"Seriously darling, what's up?" Rhonda stepped forward and grabbed one of Arnold's hands. "You *were* apprehensive, and now you're *laughing.*"

"I never could imagine you working at a soup kitchen."

Rhonda let go of Arnold's hand, snorted, and held her nose up as Arnold looked on. Given the circumstances, he could feel another giggle, but thought better of letting it out now. Rhonda had to have her reasons and he'd be a fool to let such an insensitive irony linger. So he figured he'd bite at this opportunity. Even to know Rhonda little more. He had to admit, this was an angle to Rhonda that he had never considered until she mentioned it. The idea of Rhonda humbling herself to ladle out hot soup to the hungry was something that exposed previously unknown depths to her personality. He found it deeply touching and at the same time very attractive. He decided on the best course of action. "I'm sorry Rhonda. I'm being mean." Rhonda's demeanor changed almost at an instant as she looked at him and playfully slapped his arm. "Ow!"

Arnold nursed his arm then looked at Rhonda, and at her flirtatious smile. It was just enough sugar that the pain seemed to lessen in his arm and he couldn't help but smile back at her. "C'mon. We have soup to serve." Rhonda kept her eyes on Arnold while gesturing towards the door, and a growing line of poverty stricken humanity.

The two fell into step beside each other as they walked beside the line and into the building. Every now and then Arnold stole glances at his partner. Rhonda did seem out of place here, but at the same time he had to remind himself that while he knew about the popular Rhonda, he didn't know much about her personal life save for little rumors here and there. Most of them were about how her family got richer, about her jaunts to Italy or the Caribbean, or some other exotic shopping destination. He had a hard time believing that this was the same Rhonda who was walking past a group of people who didn't have the luxury of a shower every morning, all the while not acknowledging any of the unpleasant odors of sweat, or dirt.

Something about her seemed different, confident, and mature.

And much to his surprise, he liked this Rhonda.

They entered a large room with row upon row of tables. The entire space was lit with recessed fluorescent lights. Some of them were on their last leg and flickering, others seemed a little more yellow. It cast a well used look upon the old room, and as he felt the strange friction of the horribly scuffed tile underneath, Arnold knew this room hadn't seen a vacation in years.

The pair weaved towards the back of the room where the line began, and where several workers were busy putting out large heavy pots filled with food. They stayed glued to their work until the two reached the table, then they looked up at Rhonda, smiled, and said all sort of Hello's.

"Rhonda!" Came a high pitch and very bubbly voice from the entrance to the kitchen. When Arnold looked up at the source of the voice, he saw a very tall and lanky woman with sandy blonde hair, a thin face wrinkled with age and framed with a pair of black coke bottle glasses. She smiled widely at the pair as they walked up to her.

Rhonda stepped in front of the older woman and they hugged each other tightly.

"How're you doing girl? How are classes going?" The older woman released Rhonda but kept her at arm's length with her hands on Rhonda's shoulders, looking Rhonda over as if assessing her health.

"Everything's great." Rhonda answered happily. Arnold couldn't help but notice a change in her demeanor. It was as if something about this very familiar woman brought out more of her previously unseen personality. She wasn't haughty, and she wasn't looking down at anyone. As if everyone around them, including the people in line, were her peers.

"I swear you grow even more every time I see you. Are you getting plenty of exercise? How's your family?"

"Mom and dad are fine. Mom gives her love." And Arnold could see a spark of kinship between the two; they were family. He wanted to know more but at the same time he knew he shouldn't pry.

Misty smiled as she let go of Rhonda's shoulders and looked at Arnold. "I see you brought along some help."

Rhonda beamed and looked at Arnold. "Aunt Misty, this is my boyfriend, Arnold." He caught the sincere excitement in Rhonda's voice as she introduced him to her Aunt, as if seeking approval.

Misty held out her hand and Arnold shook it. "Why Hello Arnold. Long time no see."

Arnold looked at Misty curiously. "I'm afraid I'm at a loss."

The older woman let out a warm laugh. "I'm not surprised. When I last saw you, you were still in diapers."

Arnold's smile faded and he looked at Misty with wonder. "You knew my parents?" He said low and curious.

"It's a small world. Yes. I knew them. I knew your dad even longer. We used to go to school together."

A thousand thoughts ran through Arnold's mind and a haunted look flashed across his face as ghosts from his past came back to haunt his memories. Vague memories of the outline of his mothers face, her smile, and his dad peering over her shoulder. He was surprised when Rhonda, sensing his change in mood, pulled his hand into hers.

Misty had caught the look of distress in Arnold's face and put a hand on his shoulder. "They were good people Arnold. They were good friends of mine."

Arnold smiled back and shook his head. "It's okay. I'm just sort of surprised. It's not every day I meet someone who knew my parents."

Rhonda's aunt lingered on Arnold a few more moments as if lost in her own memories. She shook her head and smiled at them both. "So, let's put you guys to work. Rhonda, if you could relieve Tammy at the line."

"Yes Ma'am," Rhonda replied, then smiled at Arnold, squeezed his hand once for good measure, and walked off towards the line.

Arnold watched her go and turned to Misty when she asked. "You don't have a food handler permit do you?"

He shook his head sadly. "No I don't. Is that going to be a problem?"

The sandy blonde haired woman smiled and shook her head; her eyes sparkled through her round glasses. "Not at all. Follow me." She walked towards the kitchen and looked over her shoulder while Arnold followed. "All that means is that you have the honor and privilege of being our new dish washer. Think you can handle it?"

To which her new volunteer smiled and nodded. "Anything I can do to help."

X X X

Outside the soup kitchen, across the street, huddled within the bushes on the outskirts of the Cathedral's old cemetery, Helga sat keeping a vigil. Fortunately the night was warm and the air was still, so Helga could sit there cross-legged and behind the hedges without much fuss. It was dark. Occasionally she'd hear something echo through the cemetery, but it didn't bother her much. For this occasion she wore a pitch black ribbon in her hair, and she rather liked it.

The steady stream of Hillwood's homeless had started to dwindle considerably, and by the time nine o'clock rolled around, as heralded by the bells of the cathedral, there were only a few homeless people wandering the streets, and none of them had noticed Helga keeping a silent vigil.

"Kettles and pans,' say the bells of St. Anne's" Helga whispered the lyrics of an old world nursery rhyme to herself again as she tried to keep her wits up.

Her mind was still reeling from the sight of Arnold and Rhonda walking into the soup kitchen together while holding each other's hands. And not only that, they were bantering about with each other. Helga had blanched when she realized Rhonda was flirting with Arnold.

It hurt. A tear fell from her right eye and she brushed it away with her fist. She sniffled again, and leaned back against the cool stone wall behind her. She buried her face in her kneecaps. "This is all your fault, you stupid blockheaded freak." She whispered to herself and then swore under her breath.

Her mind was afire with thoughts of Arnold embracing Rhonda when he should have been embracing her. She thought of tender kisses that she would miss out on, Christmas presents under the Christmas tree, with snow on the window seal outside. Now it was Rhonda sharing those kisses. It was Rhonda sitting beside Arnold in front of the fire as their child opened massive boatload of Christmas presents. Fantasies she held dear now seemed tainted by Rhonda's presence in them. In all of them.

The sound of the rusty hinges on the soup kitchen door startled Helga and she looked up. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were moist. She didn't know if she could stay one more minute. Everything in her told her to run, to not see Rhonda and Arnold walk out of that soup kitchen together, hand in hand.

But Helga stayed there, unmoving, tears streaming down her face. Arnold excited the building first, and Rhonda followed shortly after. In her hand she held a brown paper lunch bag. Arnold turned to Rhonda. The two of them looked at each other, laughed, and then started talking. Shortly afterwards, an older woman with glasses excited the kitchen as well. While the older woman hunched over the lock of the door with a set of keys in her hand, Arnold inched closer to Rhonda. He snaked his arm around the girl's waist, pulling her closer. Helga gasped at the sight, and looked away.

"You do nothing." She whimpered to herself. "You sit and watch, and you, and, you let him go. Cause there's, nothing you can do." Helga rocked back and forth a few times before she looked up again. She rested her chin on her folded arms, and watched as the couple said goodbye to the older woman, then proceeded down the block, hip to hip.

X X X

"Your Aunt Misty is quite a woman." Arnold said matter-of-factly as the pair carefully crossed the street.

"She is." Rhonda agreed and looked down at her paper sack clutched tightly in her hands. Arnold noticed this, and how Rhonda trusted him to lead her in a straight line with his arm tightly around her waist. It made him feel good, the way the side of her body fit tightly to his. In fact, the last time he felt this way with a girl was a year ago when-

"Aunt Misty started running that kitchen before I was born." Rhonda giggled at her memory. "Mom and Dad like her, and give her money to run the kitchen. They try to get her to go on cruises with us sometimes, our treat, but she always refuses. She's married to that place." She looked up to the sky.

Arnold followed her gaze and realized she was just looking up at the clouds. "Penny for your thoughts?" He asked her.

"It's nothing." Rhonda shook her head and smiled at him. "So." She purred and snuggled closer to Arnold, causing him to blush and smile. He tightened his arm around her slight waist, and reveled in the way her body fit within his arm. "How do you think our first date went, darling?"

"Oh." Arnold said bashfully, "This has been the most unique date I have ever been on."

"Okay, so, how many dates have you been on before?"

"Enough to know soup kitchens are not usually a setting for a date." He sighed and looked at his free hand. He could still feel the powdery residue from the latex glove he had been wearing while washing the dishes.

"Any reservations?"

Arnold looked at Rhonda and noticed the concern in her face. She was worried that she had disappointed him. The look on her face was priceless. It was cute and pleasant at the same time. He smiled and shook his head. "No. No I don't have any. In fact I want to do it again"

A smile grew on Rhonda's face and she looked forward in triumph. "Well. I go every week. And do be a dear and get yourself a food handler permit. It would be a shame having you washing dishes all the time."

Arnold nodded, and wanted to tell her how much he liked this moment they were spending together when Rhonda slowed down to a stop in front of an alleyway. Arnold slowed as well and looked at Rhonda questionably. She was looking into the dark alley, so Arnold looked around, trying to figure out why they had stopped.

His girlfriend wiggled herself away from his arm and then smiled politely as she looked at him. "Excuse me for a moment. I have something to take care of." Rhonda held up the brown paper sack in front of him, then turned and walked into the alley.

He didn't follow. Arnold simply watched as Rhonda walked past a large dark trash bin halfway through the alley, and then looked down to her left. She froze for a moment, then as Arnold watched, stunned, she crouched down and held out her hand in front of her.

It didn't take long for Arnold to realize there was someone behind that trash dumpster. Rhonda pulled her hand back, looked around, lingered on Arnold for a moment, then fell to one knee, put out her arm again, and yelled "Grandpa!"

Instantaneously there was a commotion of movement behind the dumpster, the sound of cardboard against brick, and Arnold's mouth fell open as Rhonda stepped back slightly, but held her ground.

He heard incoherent babbling from behind the dumpster. Rhonda stepped forward again and crouched down. As Arnold watched on, he noticed that her motions were gentle with the presence behind the dumpster, and so were her words, what Arnold heard of them from his vantage point at the entrance of the alleyway.

"Why don't you ever come to the soup kitchen?"

Arnold heard the grumbling of what sounded like an old man.

"I know but, I worry about you so much. It's going to get cold soon."

He heard a grunt, and the sound of a protest.

"At least, at least." Rhonda leaned forward more and her voice got lower. She opened the brown bag, and withdrew a sealed Styrofoam cup filled with beef stew. She opened it up, and offered it along with a spoon to the man behind the dumpster. Then after that she withdrew her hands and pulled out of the sack, a half a loaf of French bread. She then sat back and placed an arm around her knees, and brushed her hair with her fingers, as she watched what Arnold knew as her grandfather eat the dinner she had brought him.

Arnold had seen enough, he excused himself from the entrance to the alleyway and leaned back against the brick of the building beside it. He could feel moisture in his eyes as he held a hand over his mouth. Slowly, he closed his eyelids and whispered softly into the palm of his hand with a breath. "Oh my."

Throughout his history of helping people, he was sure he had never come across anything like this. There was Pigeon Man or Stoop Kid, the Jolly Ollie Man, Chocolate Boy, Mr. Hyun and his daughter, or even Dino Spumoni.

…Even Helga.

They were all people he had helped along the way, but never anything like this.

He thought of his own grandparents, and the thought of his grandfather or grandmother living out on the street terrified him. What was Rhonda going through? A feeling of incredible sadness washed over his heart. Suddenly Arnold's own desires and sorrows seemed miniscule compared to this.

It didn't take long before he felt Rhonda's presence beside him. He looked up from the ground and at her face. She was smiling, though sadly. She looked down at the ground and kicked at her feet. "I'm sorry you had to see that." She whispered.

Arnold shook his head. "Whatever you do, do not apologize for this." They resumed walking, though now apart, their shoulders touched. Every now and then Arnold stole glances at Rhonda's direction, to see her looking forward. She was hugging herself; he could see the struggle in her face.

"You don't have to tell me anything if it's a secret." He offered.

"No. No it's nothing like that. My parents are embarrassed about him, I'm not. I'm proud of my grandpa. He fought in the war. He's seen the world. But. He has post-traumatic stress, and-and I." Rhonda shook her head and then a sob escaped her lips. She stopped, and Arnold followed.

They were standing at another street corner, closer to the bus stop that would take them to their neighborhood. Arnold watched how Rhonda's tears flowed down her cheeks under the yellow and amber glow of the street light overhead.

"Aunt Misty knows where he is but I'm the only one that can approach him. I'd do it every night if I could. All I want for him to do is find a shelter that will take him in before it gets colder. I don't want to lose him." Rhonda's eyes stared into Arnold's, and he took a step forward to embrace Rhonda.

Rhonda fell into his embrace easily, and they hugged. Rhonda breathed in and Arnold laid his head on her shoulder. "You're a strong girl."

"If I'm so strong then how come I can't get my grandfather the help he needs?"

Arnold couldn't think of what to say. His mind was taking him back to when he hugged Helga, but he fought that. Not now. Not now. He said the only thing that came to his heart. "Give him time."

"Thank you." Rhonda breathed, and hugged Arnold tighter. A car drove by and didn't stop, some ways away he could hear the sound of a bus approaching.

"Rhonda?"

"Yeah?"

Arnold released Rhonda who looked at him again. "Our bus is coming." He smiled, and Rhonda couldn't help but smile back.

The two made it onto the bus with time to spare, and sat down half way towards the back. Then the bus started rolling again, Arnold smiled. He had never seen this angle in Rhonda before, and even though it made his heart ache, he felt proud of her and as he looked at her, unworthy. Here was this girl that he grew up with in school. He had known Rhonda for a long time as this rich and sometimes haughty girl that every guy had a crush on and every girl envied. She made regular jaunts to exotic destinations in order to shop, and she somehow knew that Caprini, like Rolex, never went out of style.

Rhonda looked at Arnold staring at her, and blushed. This was also the girl that Arnold had just discovered was willing to sit in an alley with her homeless grandfather, feed him soup, give him company, and then later worry herself to death over the fact that he was out there alone, cold, and miserable.

Arnold liked this side of Rhonda, he liked it a lot. He hadn't noticed but he had been inching closer to Rhonda's face, and she had as well, until their lips were an inch apart.

Rhonda tilted her face and her fingers touched Arnold's shoulder. Arnold pressed closer, and their lips met in a kiss as the bus rolled on towards their old neighborhood.

A few rows behind them, a head of blonde hair and a black ribbon disappeared behind the seats.

X X X

Authors Corner:

I am back with Pink Ribbon. I didn't think I would have an update ready for tonight, but sure enough I do. There are so many different ways to apologize for the amount of time, practically a year, that everyone had to wait for an update to this story, and I know you're probably wondering what is going on. Why *is* Arnold with Rhonda?

I am not going to reveal the secrets but everything is in a state of flux. How is Helga going to handle this now that she's seen Rhonda and Arnold kiss after practically giving Arnold to the raven haired princess of their high school? Does Curly show up? What about all those rumors going on about Rhonda? Was this the rumor that Gerald mentioned? Or is it something more? Just what is the KFC secret recipe?

There are so many questions and I'm sure that this chapter just created many more. But take heart dear reader, for your patience will be rewarded. I have a road map, and the people I revealed the ending to seemed generally positive about it. So I am going to truck along and I pray everyone stays aboard for this ride. You have to see the next drop. It's a doozy. ^_^

10/23/2011