Ding, dong!

Zim stiffened at hearing the door bell chime. He turned off the blowtorch he was using, and set the face shield against his forehead, looking up toward the ceiling of his lab. He knew very well who that could be. He thought about ignoring it . . .

But she'd probably just break down the door.

Sighing, he put down whatever crazy experiment he was working on, and headed up the elevator to the living room. He didn't want to do this stupid project. He didn't want to see her. Mostly he didn't want to do this project with her.

But, of course, it was only human. How he detested the filthy race for making him do filthy human-like-things, all to protect his alien identity. He couldn't wait for the day to watch them crumble to their doomed fate. But that wouldn't be until Dib-stink was out of the picture. Stupid Dib. Honestly, he can tolerate most of the filthy things the humans throw at him, but this . . .

This was just unacceptable.

-Yesterday -

"Class," Ms. Bitters began, displeasure seeping into her voice, "Due to the shortage of social activities this year, the skool has decided to assign a project to you, this time . . . with partners."

There was a huge outbreak of excitement, as the class suddenly went wild. Zim just sat there, looking at the teacher inquisitively. Social? Activities? Partners?

What is the meaning of this madness?

After the class calmed down, Dib raised his hand. "Ms. Bitters? What exactly would we accomplish while doing this…?"

Ms. Bitters narrowed her eyes to slits. "You don't want to know."

Dib gave an unconvinced frown as Ms. Bitters pulled out a clip board. "As you know, the Annual Baking Fest is starting next week, where everyone bakes their own treat. It's traditional. This year, however, you're doing it with a partner for your project. And if you don't, you'll suffer a horribly doomed future."

Dib raised his hand again. "According to you, aren't we already going to suffer a horribly doomed future?"

"Exactly. Now get with your partners."

Everyone jumped from their seats, hurrying to get with people they can actually stand. Zim almost laughed as he noticed everyone steering clear from Dib. Except Gretchen. She practically tackled him. That time Zim did laugh.

But all his joyous cackles ceased when he caught sight of the only person left without a partner.

Tak.

"Computer!" Zim panted, rushing into his home. "Options on Tak defenses!"

"…Um, what?" The computer replied stupidly.

Zim slapped his forehead. "Of course! I don't have any! I've been to busy with my ingenious plans to think about it. Alright, um…options on skool project survival!"

"I still don't get what you're saying."

Exasperated, Zim explained his dilemma.

"What do you want me to do about it?" The computer said after he had finished.

"What I want you to do about it, is tell me what to do about it." Zim answered, crossing his arms.

"Uh…Be nice?"

"What do you mean? Tell me."

"Well, I don't know…it might go easier if you be nice to your…er, enemy." The computer cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Hmm…That might work. If I trick Tak into thinking I'm enjoying it, then maybe she won't torture me as much, and we can quickly get it over with and done. Brilliant! I'm so glad I thought of that."

"But you didn't-"

"SILENCE!"

Zim spent the rest of the evening searching on being 'nice'. The majority was useless human activities that sickened Zim. After a couple of hours, he looked up 'being nice and cooking.' The first search result was a video, a clip from an old television show.

It was simply a girl and a boy cooking a cake together, specifically chocolate. Zim felt like he was going to throw up halfway through it, witnessing the cute remarks and holding hands, but he really felt the bile rise in his throat at the ending. The girl had chocolate icing stuck to her fingers, and although she was perfectly capable of wiping it off herself, the boy took the pink appendages in his hands and gently licked off the chocolate for her. Then he commented on how tasty it was, then came the kiss . . .

"GIR! Fetch me the BUCKET!"

Being nice or not, Zim was absolutely sure, without a doubt, he was doing none of that nonsense.

He wasn't that desperate.

-Back to present-

"GIR!" Zim yelled at his defective robot, emerging from the lab. "Turn off the T.V.! Our horrible guest is here."

"But I love's this show!" Gir wailed, pointing towards the Angry Monkey on the screen. That continuous staring….those crazy, twitching eyes….how Zim hated that show.

"That evil monkey…" Zim hissed, grabbing the remote and slamming on the controls to shut it off. Gir instantly jumped up in protest, his shrill crying carrying around the base. Then after two seconds, he promptly fell to the ground, asleep.

Ding, Dong! Ding, Dong!

"I'm coming!" Zim shouted, stomping towards the door. He placed his hand to the transparent button next to the door, making sure it was that hideous creature, before opening it.

"Hello, Tak." He spat out a greeting. "Are you ready to do this terrible project?"

Tak blinked indifferently, stepping into his base, and deactivating her disguise. "I'm not going to like this either Zim. So let's just get this over with before I vaporize you. Where's your kitchen?"

Zim pointed towards the said room, grabbing a cook book off the shelf that he had gotten yesterday. As he followed her into the kitchen, he reminded himself of his plan.

Be nice. Be nice. BE NICE.

This was going to be a long afternoon.

"Ugh, this place is a mess." Tak muttered, observing the splattered food stains on the walls and the randomly scattered cooking utensils over the floor and counters.

"Isn't it?" Zim answered absentmindedly. He walked over to the counter and placed the cook book on top. "I already think everything in this book is disgusting, so you choose."

Tak flipped through the pages, musing on which to decide. A pie sounded a bit too advance for Zim. Too many other people were baking cookies. A cake was simply out of the question, for various reasons. Then her purple eyes landed on the perfect recipe that she was sure even Zim could handle.

"We're baking brownies."

"Eh? Why brownies?" Zim asked.

"Because I said so." Tak brought out a notepad, writing down the required ingredients and cooking equipment. "Okay, are you ready?"

Zim blinked at her. "Ready for what?"

"To go to the store…"

Zim snorted in disgust, withdrawing a hand. "But that's where the repulsive humans-"

"I KNOW, Zim. But you know that if we choose not to do this project, we'll-"

Zim gasped in horror. "They'll call the FBI!"

"What…No…. They'll just-"

But Zim wasn't listening. He speedily jammed on his wig and contacts, and grabbed Tak's hand, rushing out of the kitchen, barley giving Tak time to activate her own disguise.

"GIR! You're in charge!" Zim commanded, running by the still sleeping robot, dragging Tak along all the way out the door.

Long after the two Irken's had left, Gir awoke, rubbing his cyan colored eyes. It took him a moment to realize he was alone.

"Master? Scary lady? Where'd you go?" He called out. The little robot wandered into the kitchen, noticing the cook book on the counter. But that wasn't what caught his attention. It was the item next to it.

Paper. Towels.

"You're lucky the ALMIGHTY ZIM was there, Tak, or that radioactive spider monkey would've surely eaten your face or something."

"I was lucky? As I remember it, you hid behind a trash can the entire battle, while I took care of the beast! You did nothing to help!"

"Your memory is defective. And even if that did happen, which it didn't, I still did my part."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. The great ZIM saved the groceries."

Tak rolled her eyes at her temporary partner's idiocy, deactivating her disguise, Zim taking off his own. Still, they did have the ingredients now. Even if they did have to go through an epic battle that was too violent and awesome for anyone to ever witness again just to achieve them.

"Whatever. Let's just get started on this project."

They carried their items inside the kitchen, to see Gir passed out on the floor. Zim nonchalantly kicked him aside, setting the bags down on the island in the middle of the kitchen.

"Alright," Tak said, picking up the cook book again. "First we need to set the oven at 350 degrees Fahrenheit. Then we add the ingredients into the bowl, stir until blended, put it in a pan, and then cook it for about thirty minutes. Sounds easy enough."

Zim was about to tell her to do it herself, but then remembered; be nice. He forced himself to restrain from shuddering. Zim set the oven for the said time while Tak poured in the components. She grabbed a large spoon and was about to stir, when suddenly Zim reached forward and grabbed the object.

"The great ZIM will take care of that for you, Tak…non-beast."

Tak narrowed her purple eyes. "Are you saying I can't do it myself?"

"Yes. I mean, NO! Of course not! Just, y'know….trying to be nice?"

"Being nice?" She scoffed. "As if. You're trying to trick me in some way, aren't you? Well, I'm not falling for it. I'll handle this."

Having no choice, Zim just shrugged. At least he tried.

WAIT! He thought, No, I have to be nice! It's the only way to get through this afternoon with that hideous creature! I bet she knows that too. I bet she just said she thought it was a trick, when really that itself was a trick in order to trick me! How DARE she trick the GREAT ZIM? I AM ZIM!

Zim attempted to snatch the spoon away from Tak in mid-stir. Unfortunately, the spoon emerged from the gooey substance, carrying a chunk of chocolate with it, and flinging it at Tak.

SPLAT!

Tak had just enough time to hold up her hands. There were a few chocolate droplets on her face, but her hands took most of the attack. It dripped on her fingers, a few beads running down her arm.

It was, to say the least, displeasing.

"ZIM . . ."

Even Zim had to flinch at the venom that laced her voice.

"I can fix it!" Zim hurriedly proclaimed. "Just let me get the paper towels and – GIR! WHERE ARE THE TOWELS OF PAPER?"

Gir awoke from his stupor and smiled widely at his master. "I ate it like a monkey!"

Tak tapped her foot furiously. "Find some regular towels, then!"

"I can't."

"And why not?"

". . .Gir ate them last week . . ."

Tak sighed, holding out her hands over the sink. "I'll give you five minutes to clean this up, and if you don't . . . expect the worst."

Zim didn't think he was doing such a terrific job at being nice anymore.

He racked his brain feverishly for any ideas that would clean the mess. He thought about asking Gir if he had anything useful, but Tak probably wouldn't permit that. What was he supposed to do?

His mind wandered to that video he watched. . .

ABSOLUTELY. NOT.

There were two things that kept him from doing so; One, he didn't want to touch any part of that horrid creature and two…

He was pretty sure that it would only result in broken fingers.

But then again, what choice did he have, really? There was no other possible alternate one. And he had to be nice. A gooey chocolate serving on her hands wasn't usually considered kind. But she would find it repulsive, wouldn't she? Zim was fairly sure she also knew it was a sign of affection, like it was in the video.

But he's not trying to show affection…is he?

Of course not! He thought, Why would I want to show affection for that . . . thing of beastly-ness? It's just because I don't have any paper towels, thanks to Gir. Note to self; take away his piggy privileges.

"One minute, Zim."

Oh, just get it over with!

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward and took Tak's chocolate covered hands in his own. She looked at him inquisitively. Zim mentally sent a prayer for the Tallest to help him, before leaning in a placing his mouth over the first finger.

Going as quickly as he could, Zim moved from each appendage, using his lizard-like tongue to lick away all the chocolate. It tasted revolting, but he forced himself to finish the task. He was almost reluctant to pull away, fearing he would earn a strong slap in return. So instead, he ducked under her, making his way to the other side of the kitchen.

"There. All clean." He muttered. He glanced up to see an uncharacteristic red hue spreading across Tak's face. He was blushing himself, and hoped his green skin would mask it.

But surprisingly, Tak looked relatively calm, given the situation. In fact, she didn't look bothered at all that her enemy, whom she had sworn was the most disgusting creature in this universe, had just gotten his own saliva on her. With his tongue. Very thoroughly.

He was more than confused.

"Um . . . So, are you going to slap me now, or break my arm or something?" He asked.

Tak shrugged nonchalantly. "No. However . . . You do know you could've just used your shirt to wipe it away, don't you?"

Zim stared, speechless. Then he slapped his forehead in resentment. "Gah! I could've done that!"

Tak smirked. "You're such an idiot."

Zim glared at her, clenching his fist. "The great ZIM has no idiocy whatsoever! NONE!"

"Alright. Then you admit you wanted to do . . . that? I didn't know you felt that way about me." Her tone was in the utter most of smugness. She was just loving this.

"Of course I didn't want to do that! I don't feel anything toward you except hate! I was just . . . just . . ."

Tak's smirk grew. "So you admit to default now? That you actually didn't take in account for that other idea?"

Zim faltered, trying to stutter his denial, but to no avail. He had two choices in which to answer her; He could say he didn't think of using his shirt, or that he really just wanted to use his mouth. Both displayed him as flawed, so naturally he didn't want either. But that wasn't an option. So, Zim decided to just not answer.

Instead, he leaned in and kissed her fully on the lips.

Tak staggered, not accustomed to physical contact like this. She turned incredibly stiff as the kiss continued to linger for a few seconds before Zim finally let go, looking straight into her wide, purple eyes.

"I think I'll just finish this project on my own."

It was all Tak could do to follow him to the door without bombarding him with the questions piling up in her head. Why did he do that? What was he thinking? Did it mean anything to him? Did it mean anything to her? Why did she suddenly feel so hot? Why wouldn't her heart stop pounding?

Even with so many unanswered questions, she was, for once, at lose for words. Zim stopped at his front door, opening it, and Tak realized this was her chance to say . . . something. Only a single word popped out of her mouth.

"Why?"

"Why, what?" He asked.

"Just . . . why?"

Zim shrugged, giving a sidelong glance. "I dunno. Maybe I just wanted to shut you up."

Tak gave him an offended look that quickly vanished when he continued.

"Or maybe I just wanted to see what it would be like to kiss you." Giving a subtle smile, Zim gently ushered her out the door. "Good-bye now."

Trying to give feeble last second attempts to her still waiting questions, Tak was pushed out the door. Zim leaned against the frame, cackling victoriously.

"Now the score is four to twelve! I'll catch up in no time!"

As Zim made his way back to the kitchen to finish the project, his hand subconsciously went up to his lips, where Tak's own were placed. They tingled with the previous sensation, and her lavender scent was still fresh on his hands. Now that he thought about it, maybe he unknowingly did want to kiss her. And maybe in the back of his mind, he was aware he could use his shirt, but chose his mouth instead. And maybe he actually enjoyed the kiss...

. . . Nah.

He wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling, but he did know one thing; he would have to try and be nice to her more often.

A/N: All I did was make brownies one day, and what happens? I come up with a ZaTr one-shot. I've become too obsessed with this pair, but . . . since when is that a bad thing, right? Oh, and that one part where Zim was talking about scores...I guess that's something between Tak and him.

Disclaimer: OBVIOUSLY I don't own Invader Zim.

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