The Price of Fame

WARNING – VIOLENCE, SADOMASOCHISM, AND (obviously) SLASH

Invader Zim (c) Jhonen Vasquez, who probably would not approve this fic.

"Mr. Membrane! How does it feel to –"

"As the one to prove the existence of –"

"How many are among us? Do you think –"

The crowd of reporters huddled in front of the stage. Upon the raised platform sat a podium and a bespectacled young man. The flashing of cameras reflected on his large glasses, hiding his eyes from the public. Behind him, a large object loomed. Covered entirely with dark, thick sheets of metal, the perfectly square box was easily twice as tall as he was. Around it stood various guards, each one covered in dangerous weaponry, although to keep people away or to keep whatever was inside from escaping, no one was sure. The audience – reporters and heads of the scientific community – were spit between staring at the ominous looking cube and trying to get information out of the darkly clothed man who was responsible for it.

As each reporter contributing to the din tried to speak over the one next to him, the noise level reached an almost deafening level, the man on the stage raised a hand to silence them. After a few minutes, the entire audience settled, intent on listening to him speak.

"My fellow members of the human race – for years I've tried to tell you the truth – we are not alone in this universe, only to have my message fall on deaf ears. For years the scientific community has mocked everything I tried to show them. For years the study of parascience has been viewed as something practiced only by fools and crazies. But all that has changed. Tonight, I unveil the fruits of my labors; the results of my years of research and investigation. Tonight, I prove to you all the existence of races more advanced than our own. Tonight, you are about to witness what can very easily be what changes science and history forever!"

The man, Dib Membrane – the son of the prestigious Professor Membrane; the one considered by the world community to be the black sheep in the family; the crazy one; the man mocked by his former classmates, colleagues, and world at whole – gripped a small remote fiercely and aimed it towards the dark box that captured everyone's attention and imagination. His eyes and expression still hidden by reflections of the large glasses.

The guards took several steps away from the box, yet still keeping in formation. Steam hissed as the many bolts and latches undid themselves. A ripple of hushed voices washed over the crowd as each held his breath in anticipation. The flashing of cameras hastened. Now disconnected, the walls of the box began to lower, giving the audience the first look at the inside. The murmur began to grow once more, edges of the voices tinged in excitement and wonder.

Underneath the thick steel plates, an ominous looking glass cage stood, reinforced with metal bars and criss-crossing lasers. Between the beams of energy and steel, a one could see green creature flinging his small form against the walls using mechanical appendages from a pod imbedded in back. Dark teal stains began taint the jade skin as bruises, brought about by his continued attempts to break through the barriers. The sharp edges its claws and the mechanical legs left large scars upon the thick, solid glass, but not nearly enough to even be close to breaking through. Every so often, the creature paused to catch its breath, finally allowing the audience to gaze upon it.

It was the size of a young child and in shape, somewhat humanoid, but closer examination proved it to be nothing of the sort. A striped, long magenta tunic with a stiff collar hung closely on its thin, wiry body. Underneath the top layer, striped pink sleeves tightly showed the lean, sinewy arms and black pants for the legs. Gloved hands showed it to have only two fingers and a thumb on each hand. The sharply angled head lacked both a nose and ears, boasting long, thin black antenna emerging from the upper forehead instead. The most striking feature, however, was the large magenta eyes, adding a strong contrast to the grass-colored skin. Currently its eyes glared at Dib with a look that seemed to speak of pure, unfiltered hatred. The audience gasped in wonder. The creature seemed to mouth something, but its voice was lost on the human; the sound unable to penetrate the thickness of the glass.

After the shock of seeing the creature wore off, the crowd almost instantly began a roar of noise once more, far louder and more energetic than before. The sheer multitude of photos was almost blinding.

"Mr. Membrane, how did you come across this creature?"

"What planet is it from?"

"What was its purpose for even coming to Earth?"

"Are they friendly, or will we have to deal with an invasion?"

Dib had a harder time trying to get the audience to calm down this time. "The universe is a vast and mysterious place. This particular specimen is of the Irken race, from the planet Irk, located in a galaxy far from our own. The Irkens are a race bent dominating every planet in the universe – and well on their way of doing so. This one, named Zim, was sent to prepare the Earth for the coming of the Irken Armada –"

A panic of gasps, murmurs, fidgeting erupted from the audience. Hoping that it wouldn't get out of hand again, knowing full well that this news would possibly erupt into hysteria, Dib started speaking again. "Calm down! Despite this, my sources indicate that Earth is not seen as an especially valuable resource, and the Irken Empire is not all too interested in it. You see, the race is sensitive to dihydrogen-monoxide – more commonly known to us as water. Our planet is far too dangerous for them; not to mention, it is a great distance away from the rest of Irk's territories. Although one of the most powerful forces in the universe, Irk does not know much about this area of the cosmos, although most races from that area don't stray into this sector of space.

"However, the fact that Zim has achieved the prestigious rank of "Invader" on his planet, as well as how he has been on Earth for thirteen years – collecting information and sending it to his leaders, is mildly alarming. Although the two heads of his planet have made it quite clear that they have very little interest in Earth, I believe that this is reason enough to try to intensify our space program, even if just as a caution. Now, I'll take a few questions... I know almost everyone has some..." The crowd, once more, erupted into voices. Dib randomly pointed at one of the reporters and then silenced his audience once more.

"Mr. Membrane," the journalist began, "Exactly how do you know all this? Some of it seems a little far-fetched. After all, water is one of the primary necessities for life."

"Yes, but you see, all we know about life is from what we've seen on Earth. These are creatures outside of what we know – they are not restricted by much of what be believe to be biological truths.

"But, as for your question, I have known Zim and known what Zim from when he first landed on Earth. I already had an interest in parascience then, so he started as a fascination. Fascination turned to hobby, which turned to obsession. I became preoccupied with the thought of exposing Zim for what he really was. Ever since I was eleven, I was trying to learn everything I could about Zim, his people, his planet, and the reason he was here. Years of study, fighting for the safety of the planet, breaking into his lab, and hacking into his systems have given me a wealth of information about the universe and the ones who inhabit it. Many times I've tried sharing this information, but it seemed that no one was willing to listen, at least, until I finally captured him." A small smile played upon his lips, but the eyes were still hidden behind the large glasses. Dib pointed to another journalist. "You, there. What is your question?"

"Mr. Membrane, you said you've been chasing this "Zim" for thirteen years, correct? Obviously he has been very difficult to capture. How exactly did you manage?"

" Well, you see, another interesting fact about Irkens – they can't handle meat. Simply coming into contact with meat, no matter what type, causes extreme pain or sickness.

"Another interesting fact – Irkens are very much snack food junkies. Their PAKs, the domed device located on their backs, supplies them with all the nutrition they need, so they really don't need food at all, therefore, eating is viewed as mainly a recreational activity in their culture.

"After many years of fighting and trying to expose Zim, I knew the way past his house's many defenses – the heat-guided garden decorations, the house's control computer, the various robotic minions, lasers, weapons, and other not-so-nice things.

"After sneaking into his house, I managed to find his snack storage room. Once inside, it was only a matter of infecting the food with chicken, the mildest of our meat-products for Irkens, although still slightly poisonous. I knew it would only be a matter of time until he got bored and wanted to eat something. All it took was one popsicle to weaken him to the point of capture. As you can tell, he's rapidly recovered from the incident." Dib motioned towards the small Irken, caught up in his flurry of motion in attempts to free itself.

The man looked out upon his audience. His crowd; people who had willingly come to listen about his accomplishments. How he had dreamed for years of this moment, living through it a million different ways in his fantasies. Although none of the daydreams were quite under the circumstances he currently was under, it was just as sweet as he had imagined.

Dib turned to glace at the glass cage. Zim was currently using the PAK legs to attempt to scratch his way out, but to no avail. Their eyes briefly met; a thread of understanding fleetingly passed between them. The moment was so small, it was almost unrecognizable, and, once more, Dib found only anger and fury in those red orbs. As he watched the Irken's mad behavior, he hoped the Irken didn't injure himself too much. That could hinder Dib's plans when they got back to his lab. A familiar voice from the audience brought Dib out of his musings and back to reality.

"So, Son, now that you've captured the extraterrestrial creature, what sorts of things do you think the human race will be able to learn from it and its technology?" Murmurs once more captivated the crowd, as whispers of "Professor Membrane?" echoed on the lips everyone. It was well known throughout the scientific community, as well as the world in general - the man had never taken any interest in his son's parascientific exploits, and often contributed to the ridicule of parascience in general. The professor's remarks on his son's "insanity" when Dib was a boy had haunted his son through his career, whether they were intended to or not. Simply the fact that his father was there was shocking itself.

"Dad...?" Dib muttered before composing himself once more. "Um... well, you see... Irken technology is far superior to our own. My studies of Zim over the years have yielded many technological discoveries – which have gone, for the most part, largely unnoticed – but with the capture of Zim also comes the capture of his base and lab. Even the information encoded into the computer on his back, known as a PAK, is enough to drastically change the technology in our society.

"Although Irkens look fairly similar to humans in shape, their biology is nothing like ours. They have very few organs. One, known as the 'Squeedily-spooch,' seems to function as several of our organs. Although I haven't done extensive research on the extraterrestrial's biology, some evidence seems to point to the 'super-organ' being derived from many organs fusing together. Possibly the future of human evolution? I do plan to look more into that.

"Another interesting thing about Irkens – their very existence is based off of the fusion of their biology and technology. The Irken PAK is a necessity for survival. Ten minutes without it, and the Irken dies. The PAK is attached at birth, already full of information about the Empire, and has a personality download, starting the young Irken off at life at the level of an adult even before the specialized training begins, making them complete education more quickly and creating more productivity. The PAK also acts as the Irken's brain, making it impossible to forget anything, as all information is stored as data.

"PAKS contain various cybernetic limbs, as Zim is currently displaying. Although the metal isn't particularly strong, it still supports a lot of weight, and is not very heavy. Inside the PAK are also lasers, force fields, binoculars, and many other useful tools that Irkens can use freely, as if they were actual limbs. This opens up a world of possibility for the paralyzed or amputees. And that's simply the technology and biology that I know about. There's really no end to what we could learn."

The reporters all seemed very pleased with Dib's answer, and started their flurry of questions, camera flashes, and activity again.

"So is it true that you plan to do all the research yourself, and refuse to allow anyone else-"

"Are you really qualified to-"

"What do you plan to study first about-"

Dib held up his hands in mock surrender. "Yes, seeing as I'm the only expert on Irkens, and have been studying and using Irken technology since I was eleven, I do plan to do much of the basic research. But, I will, bring in people when needed."

And the mob went even crazier trying to get information out of the young man.

The dim lighting on the white walls, the smell of chemicals in the air – Dib took a deep breath. He was back in his large basement lab. Although the press conference was exhilarating, it also was tiring. Dib was glad to be back home, although he knew that his work for the night wasn't nearly over yet.

He turned his attention to the glass cube, sans the excess lasers and some of the metal. In truth, Dib had added those for dramatic effect. Typing into a computer, Dib grabbed a nearby microphone and spoke into it, only half facing the crystalline cell.

"Hey there, Zim. How you doin' in there? Having fun yet?"

"HORRIBLE HUMAN FILTH-CREATURE! Remove me from this chamber of... ...FILTH! You said you'd free me once we arrived back at your lab; I demand you release ZIIIIIIM!" came the captured Irken's voice over the speaker next to Dib. Zim glared at the human, but the look of pure loathing from earlier was gone in his eyes, also done just for show. In its place was that of just anger.

"I don't know, Zim; I think I might just want to keep you in there. It would certainly make my experiments far easier."

"But, Dib-stink! The deal! ZIM gave you what you wanted, it's time you gave me mine! We're a team now, Dib-filth! ...And we agreed – NO EXPERIMENTS! NO AUTOPSIES!"

"Well, old habits die hard, you know? I've wanted to dissect you for most of my life..." Dib said with a smirk. "And I've been thinking; I've always sided with the humans in the past. They're my race, my species. This is my planet. What gave you the notion my loyalties would change? What would have been my motivation for randomly joining you anyway?"

Zim cast him a dark look before a demented smile crept onto his face. "Oh, I can give you motivation... Such motivation Zim gives..."

Dib turned to completely face Zim, taking his sweet time. "Oh, and what would you do to motivate me, you, being trapped in a thick glass box, and myself, comfortably outside of it?"

The dark smile on Zim's face increased slightly. "How about I show you? Zim's little 'performance' before your filthy adoring fans actually did weaken whatever your glass's adhesive was; damaging it to the point where I can do this..." A long, thin, metal appendage emerged from Zim's PAK. So fast that Dib's human eyes couldn't follow the motion, it plunged into the corner of the box, right where the three planes intersected. Dib glanced at the small hole that was formerly a corner before he noticed that Zim had done the same with the other four corners of one side. "Scared yet, Dib-monkey?"

"No... Not really. You just punched out the corners. I can have those fixed first thing tomorrow morning. It's not enough damage to free yourself."

"The corners alone, no, but if the sides were gone..." Zim's smile widened. Dib, understanding what Zim was getting at, began to back away slowly. Zim inserted all four PAK legs into the holes, and, with one swift motion, manage to slice all of them through the sides of the glass cage, removing the wall before him. The thick barrier of glass fell outwards, smashing into several large pieces as it hit the floor.

Instinctively, Dib grabbed for the closest sharp object on the closest table. A scalpel. Holding the small knife up in a pathetic attempt to defend himself, Dib slowly backed up, keeping a defensive stance the entire time.

"Now, now, Zim... let's be sensible..."

"But Dib-human, why start now? After all, our lack of sensibility is what got us into this situation in the first place, wouldn't you agree?" Zim, now fully out of his glass prison, rose to the tallest possible height on his metal legs. "The reason we made this agreement... there was no sense behind it. There was no sense within your inferior mind or my far superior one. The reason you just now attempted to betray me – there was no sense in that either. Why stop a good thing, especially when it's Zim's turn?" the Irken said as he slowly, gracefully used the metal appendages to inch towards Dib. Each fall of the PAK legs made a sharp crunching noise at it shattered already broken glass.

Dib felt his back bump into something smooth and hard. A wall. "... Fuck..." he muttered. He held the scalpel in front of him as if it were any sort of protection. Zim easily smacked it away, spinning out of Dib's hand and embedding itself in the ceiling.

Zim lifted one PAK leg off of the ground, letting it linger, leaving Dib's imagination to wander with anticipation as to where its metal point would fall. A second passed before Zim went in for the plunge.

Dib noticed the thick, sticky wetness before the pain hit him. A swell of it, coming from his side. The leg didn't pierce anything, but it did leave a deep gouge on the left side of his stomach. The leg lingered in the wall, pinning Dib there by his shirt and trench coat. The man found his chin being lifted upwards by a three-fingered, gloved hand. His eyes were forced to stare into large, red, pupil-less orbs.

"You wanted motivation, Dib-stink? Allow Zim to give it to you..." The Irken's long, sectioned tongue slowly traced down the human's cheekbone, leaving a wet, slightly stinging trail; an action that, under normal, non-painful circumstances, would have caused Dib to involuntarily shudder, but the pain in his side overwhelmed that part of him.

"... You... sick bastard..." Dib spat out, a thin piece of saliva hitting Zim in the face. The liquid caused the Irken's skin to sizzle until Zim wiped it away.

"Now, Diblet, Zim is no sicker than you are. If I didn't know better, I would say you liked it." Zim took his time as he stared directly into Dib's eyes, and then, quickly forced himself against the human. The slender, pointed tongue wormed its way through the human's lips and teeth; Zim's claw still on Dib's chin, not allowing the man to bite down.

Dib tried struggling – he tried fighting the alien's advances. He tried fighting against the long tongue snaking within his mouth, the zippered teeth biting on his lower lip, drawing salty, iron-filled blood. He tried fighting against the small, but powerful form pressing against his body, aggravating his wound. Dib felt the Irken's tongue slightly sizzle from the water content in his saliva. He tried to look away, he tried to turn his head to break contact with the Irken mouth, but Zim's strong hand kept Dib's head in place. A thin trail of blood from the bite-marks inside his lip slowly dripped off of the corner of Dib's mouth.

Slowly, Dib began to give up struggling. Slowly, Zim's rough biting became soft caresses, nursing the small cuts he'd just previously created. If he felt any surprise when the human started to return the motions, Zim didn't show. Instead, he allowed his slender tongue to wrap around the human's thicker, fleshier one. The two writhed inside the other's mouth with vicious force. A game of tug-o-war between them. Tongues in rapid warfare hidden underneath sweet caresses.

Dib didn't notice when Zim let go of his chin, nor did he notice when the PAK leg was removed from the his side and wall. The gash in his side became only a thought in the back of his mind, the pain driving him forward into the kiss. Thin arms of the other snaked up and down Dib's body, in and out of his clothing, finally resting themselves around his waist and shoulders. A bony, clawed hand traced intricate patterns in the back of his neck. Instinctively, Dib brought his own to rest upon the body of Zim, ignoring the pain of stretching his torso when his arms moved.

Zim's shirt rode up, which Dib took full advantage of, pulling the Irken's warm body against his own. Zim's fingers rose into Dib's blood-stained shirt, carefully pulling it off the human's body. Sprinkled throughout soft strokes, Zim would lightly scratch the deep gash in Dib's side, as if painfully showing the human who was still in charge.

Dib felt his pants become tighter. Zim obviously noticed it as well, and began grinding against the human, only adding to the human's delicious discomfort. Dib cried out, both from Zim's abuse and the pleasure the Irken gave.

They dove back into an intimate kiss. Every so often, one would have to break the embrace for air, but dove back in with twice the intensity. Dib's hands moved up towards Zim's antenna, fondling the bases of the stalks and moving upwards, knowing the Irken's sweet spots. After all, he had been studying the extraterrestrial for most of his life. Zim's claw pressing harder and harder into Dib's neck as the human sent surges of passion down his small green frame. Tongues intertwined the entire time.

A sharp pain. A small shout of surprise from the human when claws broke skin, causing a trickle of wetness started to wind down his neckline and onto his back. The kiss was broken, but Zim took advantage of the moment. He quickly lifted the human's head upwards and went for the underside of his chin, placing a chain small kisses down it, sucking, licking, and biting throughout the path. In response, Dib hastened his movement and forcefulness on Zim's antenna, sending waves of pure sensation down the Irken; lost, himself, in the feelings of pain and pleasure.

All the closeness. The sensation. The pure, animalistic emotion. The sweet ache of Zim's cruel caresses made Dib feel light-headed; the moment too powerful, too passionate, too erotic to be real. His body screamed for it to stop and to continue at the same time, but knowing all too well that he really had no say in the matter. It was all Zim Dib simply could only let himself ride the waves of dark bliss until they softly faded away, and there was nothing...

"Dib?! DIB-STINK! Zim commands you wake up! Rest-y time is OVER!"

"Meeeeeeehhhhhhh... I dun' wanna..." Dib muttered, half-asleep, trying to turn over. Only, he couldn't. And then the pain hit.

Dibs eyes snapped open with the sharpness of the throbbing. He found himself strapped to a metallic table in one of the rooms of his lab. Several robotic arms tended to his wounds, each emitting a small green light onto the injured area – a cell regeneration stimulant. On his arm was an IV, which, Dib figured, probably was a morphine drip. Most importantly, though; perched on top of him, careful not to press on Dib's wounded body, was a half-clothed Zim.

"Fuck, Zim... Did you have to be so intense last night? This hurts like hell!" Dib groaned.

"Mmmmm... perhaps not... but you know how Zim gets into it when role-play... besides – you were drinking in every second of it as well." Zim's claws traced the white maze of small scars that decorated the human's body, the results of previous "fun."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that you devised this whole publicity thing just so we could get extra-kinky for a night," Dib said with a small laugh followed by a grimace, accidentally ripping some of the stitches in his side, making the robotic arm have to start over.

Zim crossed his arms and playfully pouted. "Almost. You passed out from your human-juice loss before the kinky stuff could really begin. Zim was disappointed."

"And whose fault was that?" Dib asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yours, obviously, my Dib-hurty. You didn't have enough life-fluid. Make more next time." Zim said, matter-of-factly.

"And my dad asks why I always need bags of type AB+ human blood for my 'experiments.'"

A crash was heard from another room. Zim quickly nibbled and kissed Dib's lower lip before carefully getting off the battered human. "I'mma gonna check if GIR's cleaning up our mess or rolling in it. Just make screamy noises if you need anything."

Dib smirked as the Irken left, and allowed the painkillers sweep him into slumber once more.

Zim, in a computer chair, swiveled to face the doorway. "I see you're feeling better."

Dib entered the room, straightening his tie and smoothing out his trench coat, all while drinking a cup of coffee. Although his body was mostly covered by clothing, the marks that peaked through on his hands and neck had been reduced to just angry red lines. It was amazing how nine hours in the medical chamber could bring one gravely injured to almost perfect health.

"Are we ready to contact the Massive yet, Zim?"

Zim swiveled back to face the computer before him, and started typing, his nimble hands floating over the keys. "Almost. These coordinates need to be tweaked a bit and – HA! ZIM IS A GENIUS!" The Irken almost pushed the button, starting the transmission, but resisted the urge, turning once more to the human. "Dib-human, are you ready? There's no turning back if you-"

Dib put his finger over Zim's lips, his eyes glowing in determination. "Zim, I can easily say that we've already gone past the point of no return. I'm in a position where it's either Earth or you – and I'm sure as hell not going to abandon you. You've already given me all I wanted and more." Dib planted small kisses on Zim's antenna between each word. "Fame. Admiration. Respect. Loyalty. Friendship. Really good sex. A reason to live. But most importantly, love. None of the humans ever gave me any recognition; taunting, mocking me as I saved them day after day. They deserve death. They've had enough chances." Dib leaned over Zim, almost as if he were about to fall into an intimate kiss, but, instead, pushing the button, initiating communications with the Irken mother ship. Zim didn't have time to protest the missed opportunity. The images of two tall, armored Irkens blipped to life on the screen.

"Ugh... Listen, this better be important, Zim... and Zim's large-headed pet-thingy... Purple and I have stuff to do... like going back to ignoring you..." snapped Red.

"Oh, it is, my Tallest. You will not be disappointed."

"Look, could you just hurry it up so we can go back to our not-talking to you?" asked Purple with a glare that

"Certainly. You see, the time is right to send the armada to Earth, as it is almost ready for conquest."

"Oh... not this again, Zim... Do you even have a plan this time?" asked Red again.

"Of course I do. I, ZIM, shall-"

Dib quickly cut Zim off, knowing all too well what the conversation would turn out to be like if he didn't intervene. "The plan is already well in action, my Tallest. If you'll allow me to continue...?"

"Proceed..." said Red, all too willing to have someone else talking besides Zim - even if it was an inferior creature with an abnormally large head.

"Well, you see, my Tallest, the leadership of Earth is broken into many separate, self-governing countries with very little unity. Often they war against each other. Despite this, there is one man, an esteemed scientist, of whom most humans would follow blindly; my father, Professor Membrane. Zim managed to win public support in my favor by making it appear that I captured him, an extraterrestrial. We've taken measures to ensure that, in the near future, I will replace him in the public eye." Dib motioned for Zim to continue for him, not wanting to hog all of the Irken's glory. The invader quickly took advantage of the silent offer, always willing to declare how amazing his is before his leaders.

"Within the next Earth year, we plan to upgrade all filthy human infrastructures to my designs, integrating human and Irken technologies supposedly produced from Dib examining my base - although, still far inferior to our pure Irken tech, of course. The pig-smellies will be under the impression that they'll be increasing productivity and improve their lifestyles, but, in actuality, it'll give us control over almost all aspects of human life. And then ZIM WILL RULE OVER THOSE PATHETIC DIRT-CHILDREN! ME, ZIIIIIIIM!"

Dib quickly started talking again, in fear that Zim would get into one of his rants. "Considering the Massive's location, it should take about two Earth years for you and the armada to arrive here – enough time for Zim and myself to successfully infiltrate the staples of human life."

"I don't know... we'd be traveling awfully far just for some dinky little planet in an area we know nothing of," said Purple. Red nodded in agreement.

Zim, this time. "But, my Tallest – we all know that the might of the Irken Empire will soon extend past the known areas of the universe, and exploration will need to be performed. Earth and the surrounding planets in it's FILTHY solar system could easily be an outpost for the Armada in future conquests." Zim tried to flash them a pleasant smile, but on the small Irken's face, it only looked demented.

"I guess that sorta makes sense. Hey, Red, what do you think? I mean, we haven't really got anything better to do..." said Purple with a shrug.

"Wait... you guys said that you were very busy...?"

"Oh, yeah. About that. We lied," stated Red, matter-of-factly. "I guess we'll indulge you this one time, Zim, but mainly because we were heading somewhat in that direction anyway. If Earth isn't ready, we'll just kill you, 'k?"

"If I win, can I get to keep my Dib-thing?"

"Uh... sure... you can keep Dub-"

"Dib."

"Yeeessss, Dub. Just as long as he's house-trained." And then the transmission was cut.

Zim relaxed in the chair, only then realizing how tense he was the entire time. He said nothing.

"Hey, Zim... you okay?"

"..."

"Look... are you worried about the whole 'killing you' thing? I know that this will work – we've been very meticulous with all our planning. There's no way we can mess this up."

Zim still said nothing, and, emotionlessly, grabbed Dib's hand and started leading the human back down into the lab, his face hidden the entire time.

"Zim... look, the Tallest agreed to come in two years. Instead of working on the plan, how about we celebrate or something?"

Zim turned to Dib, the human only then noticing the devious spark in the Irken's eye. "Who said we were going down there to work, Dib-pet? Zim plans to finish what we started last night."

¡El Fin!

This started out as a challenge fic from Swing-21 and TSI. We all randomly put words down and had to write a ZADR one-shot containing all of them. The words were "fame," "popsicle," "knife," "ripple," "chicken," "truth," "garden," and "breath". They're all in there, just push ctrl+f if you don't believe me.

As soon as we created the list, my mind immediately latched onto the idea of Dib achieving fame through Zim's "capture"... and, for some reason, sadomasochism... I guess that would be from the "knife," although the knife really wasn't important and wasn't used in that aspect...

I hope the almost-sex scene wasn't too horrible. That's really the first time I've gone all-out when it comes to foreplay-type stuff, not to mention, I'm asexual, so I really don't have a "sex-sense".

Eh heh heh... to tell the truth, this was why it took so long for me to update "My Beloved, My Betrayed"; I was busy working on this. I just needed it to quit looming over my head. My goal was to have it completed by spring break... man... that was, like, two months ago... Now that it's done, I'm going back to writing the new chapter of MBMB. Yay!