Just like he predicted, the route they took it was almost empty. But Helga wasn't going to admit this, it will only inflate the already huge ego Rex had the reputation of carrying with him. Instead she continued in silence following his indications and reaching to their destination. They kept on walking in a moderate pase, avoiding some groups of tourists gathered around certain frames. She was ready to nail the assignment and get the hell out of there.

It wasn't long before they reached the set of stairs and climbed on top of them. Once they entered the gallery, it was fairly packed on the early works of Monet. Ignoring the people, Helga went left and then straight ahead to the end of the building. Finally they were in the section correct section where their assignment was enlisted. And just in front of her laid said painting, Springtime by Pierre-Auguste Cot.

Crossing her arms and approaching it slowly, almost like it was a wild animal and she didn't want to startle it, Helga started to inspect each inch the painting possessed. No doubt the painting had magnificent detail in every part her eyes laid upon. The mischief on the girl's eye was evident and you can almost tell what she was thinking by her body language. There was even a little sprout of daisies near the feet of the couple. Still… Despite all the marvels of this piece of art, Helga found herself hating it.

It wasn't that the painting was poorly executed, on the contrary every single detail was at reach on close inspection. Even the rope where the swing, where both lovers sat, showed that it was deteriorating. So what it was of that painting that her heart didn't feel like accepting it completely. Perhaps it was that the man, as usual, was covered and the woman barely left anything to the imagination. But it wasn't that, Helga was more than used to this considering the author was a man. Also it wasn't like she was a prude and considered nakedness offending to her eyes. Maybe what she found distasteful was the unfairness of the garments. Considering that the male of the painting was fully covered and the female was wearing nothing but a see-through veil that fully exposed her body.

But then again she wasn't there to give her opinion, the assignment clearly stated to write down what the author was supposed to communicate to the world with his painting. Pulling out from her bag her notebook and a pen, she looked for a bench close by and once spotted she sat on it. She still had a clear view of the painting from where she was, but Helga decided that she had enough of it to know what exactly she needed to write. Putting the cap on the opposite side of the pen, she wrote.

'Author wanted to get laid with girl way out of his league'

She crossed these words, she didn't want to get another D from her teacher and a report from being to 'rebellious'. She was about to turn the page to a fresh one, when she heard a chuckle next to her. Helga looked up to find a pair of dark eyes framed by a set of glasses. She frowned before raising an eyebrow questioningly. He shook his head slightly.

"It's nothing, just amusing how in less than 15 words you have rightly stated the intentions of the painter with this work"

Helga blinked a couple of time disbelieving what her ears had heard, has Rex Smythe Higgings III gave her a compliment?

"Then again" he continued, "If I my memory does not fail me, which it rarely does, the assignment clearly stated a 1,000 words report of the work of art"

Helga just rolled her eyes and placed the tip of the pen back to her notebook. For a couple of seconds she stood there motionless, not like she didn't know what to write she had plenty of ideas to fill up an easy 1,000 essay, it was that as a writer she always had trouble with the beginning. Once that was covered, the pen flowed by it's own on the pages. Just like many other times when she was inspired. So… why was so hard this time to come up with a beginning for this insignificant assignment? Chewing on the cap of her pen, she looked up once more to the painting, she pressed her lips and returned her notebook.

Still nothing, and it didn't help that the whiteness of the page apparently was mocking her for not being able to write the simplest report. Helga gave another chew to the already tortured cap of her pen, and tapped her right foot on the floor. She was getting impatient. Licking the bottom of her lip, she looked up once more to the painting and left a groan of exasperation out.

"May I suggest an introduction?" Rex spoke softly next to her, apparently he knew better than to anger her further.

Helga gave him a nasty look before closing her eyes, handing over her notebook and pen to him and proceeding to rub her temples with her fingers. She noticed by the corner of her eye the grimace he made once he inspected the pen, but nevertheless he started to write on the blank page. Helga placed both elbows on top of her knees and rested her face on her palms, closing her eyes. The soft sound of the pen scratching the surface of the paper along with the whispers and steps from the people in the other halls, were the only sounds in the place. These sounds combined and the scent of old wood and paint drifted the blonde one to a state of stupor. She was almost ready to fall asleep when the sound of someone's clearing its throat brought her back.

Finding Rex staring at her with a blank face, Helga looked down to his hands where her notebook and pen where held. Her eyes caught the sight of a page full with a minuscule handwriting. Blinking a couple of times, Helga took the items out of his hands and started to read. The report stated a brief introduction of the artist, continuing with a short exploration to his personal life and thus the reason for why his paintings always had women in outfits so revealing. It wasn't the best biography she had read, but it got to the point. And by the count of the words, there were 300 left to write down.

Taking the idea in and familiarizing with his style, Helga continued the report by describing the absolute detail the author had with his pieces of work. From time to time checking that her writing was similar to his, in order to avoid any confusion to the teacher once she read it back at school. Once she described is such a thoughtful way the sensuality the painting wanted to show, Helga gave the final touch by praising the author for being such a keen observer to the minor details.

Handing over the report to her partner, Helga stood up and stretched her legs. Waiting a couple of seconds until he was finished, Helga noticed that the museum was quiet now. Most of the people in the other exhibitions have left, leaving only the two of them alone in the European Paintings Gallery. She checked her watch and noticed it was almost 7. They have to gather back to the main hall if she wanted to make it to Broadway on time. Helga had planned since its release, to assist to the Wicked show. It promised to be loyal to the book and the casting was gifted.

Turning to her right she noticed Rex reading the last lines before standing up and handing her over the notebook. In silent agreement both started to walk out of the gallery, not before stealing some glances to the Van Gogh and Monet early works. Once they reached the top of the stairs there was a yellow plastic line that forbid them to cross over. Apparently there were doing some minor repairs to the lights of the stairs. Helga just shrugged it off and walked to the elevator. Pressing the call button she waited until a little light shone above them, the metal doors opened and both got inside. Once inside she hit the ground floor button and waited for the doors to close. There was a pull from the elevator that indicated they were descending, it wasn't long before an abrupt jolt shook the elevator.

Looking at her companion, she noticed that he was as confused as she to this unusual event. Helga pressed the ground floor button firmly twice, to motion the metal cage to move. It didn't flinch. Frowning she pressed more time rapidly, but still the were no signs of the mechanism cooperating. Frowning she punched the button and walked to the opposite corner groaning.

"We're stuck" She proclaimed frustrated as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She noticed by the reflection her companion moving to the set of buttons and pressing a red one. Helga smacked herself mentally, why she didn't thought of that. There was a beep and it wasn't long before a female voice spoke through the speakers of the elevator.

"We are experiencing some technical difficulties. The report has been sent and the personnel are on their way to assist you. Please remain calm"

Helga just rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She was going to miss the show if they took to long. She was about to out voice her thoughts when Rex beat to it.

"Thank you, may we ask how long will it take to be fixed?" he asked calmly as he let the button off.

There was a minute of silence before the speakers came alive.

"The technician is already on his way, but taking in consideration the day and time, it will take approximately an hour"

Helga felt her jaw dropping to the floor, she was about to scream in wrath when the female voice spoke once again.

"Please be patient and keep the calm"

And the speakers went dead. Helga snorted at the last comment before flipping the finger at where she thought the camera was, before plummeting to the floor. She closed her eyes before remembering she had a cell phone on her. Pulling out the device she noticed that there was no signal on it. Angered she threw the device to the opposite wall, probably smashing it, before banging her head on the back wall and closing her eyes.

"Great… just great" she muttered before she thought bitterly of being trapped for an hour in an elevator, missing her show, and the cherry of the cake. Being stuck with pompous and stuck up Rex Smythe Higgings the third.

-.-

A/N: Not dead, just in a demanding job and got promoted to a busier position. Ain't great being a grown up?