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ZADR The Natural Way of Things Ch.3

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Ch.3: The Rivalry Returns



When the transmission was over, Dib stomped back downstairs, his heart and stomach feeling like they had taken up residence somewhere near his shoes. Gaz, as usual, sat on the couch in front of the big screen, lost in the world of her Game Slave 6. For some reason, the familiar sight relit an old urge in Dib--the urge to rant.


"Gaz! You won't believe who had the balls to show up again at skool today."


"Who? Your common sense?" the fifteen-year-old answered dryly, narrowed gaze never leaving the glowing screen of the game console.


For the first time since he was eleven years old, the sarcasm went right over his head as he flopped jelly-limbed onto the couch beside his sister. "No. Zim." Dib's voice dripped and bubbled with undiluted, acidic hatred on the alien's name.


"Zim." In contrast, Gaz's voice was the picture of flat, bored neutrality.


"Yeah. Zim. You know, the crazy little green homicidal alien who repeatedly tried to kill us and destroy Earth back in elementary skool. He's back, Gaz."


She finally slanted a look at him, though decidedly not the scared or worried one he was looking for. "You're not going to do all your old spazzing about that, are you?"


"What? No! I don't do that stuff anymore. I'm normal now. You know that."


She raised a disbelieving brow even as she turned back to her game. "Really. Didn't sound like it earlier."


Dib opened his mouth to snipe back, but then all of what his sister had said registered in his normally much quicker brain. "Wait, were you...eavesdropping on me?!"


Gaz rolled her eyes, gaze not leaving her game still. "Didn't have to. You were talking pretty loud. Ya know, for a paranormal investigator, you're really crappy at covert stuff."


"Am not! But then again, it doesn't really matter anyway, does it? Because I don't DO that kind of stuff anymore!"


"Uh huh. Sure."


"I don't!"


"Right."


Dib glared at his sister, and with all the startling maturity of someone half his age, he pulled himself up from the couch and stomped all the way back up the stairs, slamming the door to his room shut behind him when he reached it. He leaned back against it, glaring down at the toes of his converse as if they were responsible for everything.


"Stupid Gaz. Stupid Network. Stupid green alien who always has to fuck everything up." he growled at the offending footwear. Gaz was wrong. He was NOT a paranormal investigator anymore, and he didn't miss that. Nope. Not at all. Not one iota...he found his eyes drawn to his cabinent, a looming gray monstrosity tucked away in the farthest corner of his room. Almost against his will his body followed his eyes until he was standing in front of it, his fingers lightly touching the silvery, glinting steel of the cabinent's handle.


No, he didn't miss it. But maybe, since Scattermoon had told him to capture Zim, just like old times, maybe he could pretend...


He opened the door carefully, as if a bogeyman lurked inside rather than harmless objects. All his old paranormal paraphenalia stared back, the spell drives glinting on top, but that wasn't what he was looking for. He found that buried way in the back: his trench coat. Not the glossy one he wore for shows but the original, the tattered one that had seen the grass and tree bark of many a stakeout, the one that had been with him through the dust of many a fight...The first casualty, the first one to be hurled into the cabinent in a fit of rage and shame and hurt at the news...


Dib shook off the memory as he held it up. The worn black leather was soft and welcoming underneath his fingertips. On impulse, he swung it around him, slipping his lanky arms into the sleeves.


Amazingly enough, it still fit him, though it was a bit tight in the shoulders and the bottom, which had almost touched the ground when he was younger, now hung slightly past the back of his knees. A smile formed, unbidden, on his lips as he posed, puffing himself up with pride like he used to. "Paranormal investigator!" he told the empty room importantly.


Behind him, unknown to the teen, the door had been opened a crack, and through it a purple eye watched, and smiled.


***********


The next day brought a complete about-face in the behavior of the Dib.


Zim was sitting in the same seat he had claimed as his own yesterday when HE came in. Not only did he look more like his old self--tattered trench coat and all--his golden eyes intentionally sought out and met dead on Zim's fake blue ones. The hyuman stared right at Zim...and smiled, and obvious challenge as his thumb drew deliberately across his own throat. Then the golden gaze purposely broke contact, as the Dib-thing joined his friends.


Zim hid his own pleased baring of teeth behind a gloved hand. He had no idea what had caused the sudden shift in the Dib--but it must have been his superior acting skills. Yeesss, skills that were so amazing they needed but limited contact with their victim! It would not be long now, and the Dib would be at Zim's mercy!


Zim was so busy giggling manically to himself, he was the only one in the room who completely missed the entrance of a blonde female, ponytail swishing, flat midriff showing over a short hot pink and black plaid skirt...Until said female walked over to Dib, yanked his head back by the scythe lock, and mashed her icky germ-infested food hole to his. At that he stopped laughing so fast he gave a very uninvaderly squeaky gasp/snort.


The Dib had a girlfriend?


The Dib had a girlfriend? By the Tallest, that filthy hyuman sentence was wrong in so many ways...Though...not quite so wrong as the soft moany grunty noises coming out of them both, obvious to Zim's sensitive antennae even over the hoots, whistles and catcalls of the other dirt monkeys. The noise made Zim's spooch tighten and twist in his gut in a strange, completely foreign way. He didn't like it. His antennae shivered and flattened tightly to his skull underneath his wig as his eyes closed, wishing they would just stop--


The mentoring unit--Mr. Stibbens--suddenly cleared his throat. "All right class, settle down. And Stacey, Dib, please refrain from sucking each other's faces in my class."


Stacey--the female worm-baby currently attempting to inhale Dib's face--didn't reply but pulled off anyway, licking pink glossy lips like a satisfied cat before plunking herself into the desk right next to Dib's. Zim's antennae shivered uncontrollably again at the hazy look behind the familiar glasses, a shiver that continued, travelling down the smaller alien's spine like a cool finger...


"Yes please. It's DIS-GUSTING to watch." he growled to cover up his obvious discomfort, though no one was paying any attention to him.


The Dib turned in his seat, the hazy look replaced with a lazy, smug smirk, golden eyes narrowing knowingly. "If it bothers you so much, space freak, don't watch."


Zim glared back as the other filthy dirt children oohed, but internal disquiet at his own reactions took the heat out of the otherwise blistering, venomous look.


What on Irk was going on...?

Woo chapter 3! As the old pokemon games used to say, things are heating up!...slowly...kinda...lil bit? Ah well. Yay for Gaz being almost supportive! :D

Its kinda short....oh well. It'll get longer and more interesting in the next chapter...

Ch.4: [link]

Usual disclaimer: Zim, Dib, Gaz and Invader Zim all belong to Jhonen Vasquez, not me.
© 2011 - 2024 SilveryMoon34
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emzzy123's avatar
ooohhhh zims jealous~