I would like to explain that this is only rated M because it might contain content later on that could be considered best for mature audiences. Thank you.

Dib's bedroom; 5:30 AM -

Dib sat back in his cushioned desk chair, still blinking to try and ward off the agitated tears gathering in his deep blue eyes after he flicked on the overhead light. He snatched his glasses off the edge of his desk before they fell off, swiping the back of hand over his eyes before actually putting them on. The blur passed as the lenses gave him blessed clarity of the room.

He groaned as his fatigue made it hard for him to concentrate on his leftover homework. God, did he not want to do it. Nothing like the homework left over after the weekend to make you realize how easy it is to distract you from it. Homework, the kryptonite of school children.

Damn it! Now he was being distracted by trying to come up with the best way to describe homework.

He set his elbows on the cool metal, pushing his computer out of the way to make room. Dib rested his head in the palm of his hand, digging his index finger into his temple irritably. What the hell was he supposed to write an essay on anyway? Sure there are probably thousands of things that he could write about, but once he sat down to do it, his sharpened pencil poised over the paper, his mind went as blank as printer paper.

Ah, the first world problems of a teenage boy.

Nothing quite like them to make you feel stupid. And before you know it pictures of starving kids in Africa are flashing before your eyes.

And distracting you from your damn homework!

He smashed his forehead into the desk. God, this was impossible. He was never going to get this done in time. The cool surface of the metal felt good against his brow, and soothed his headache. So, he decided to keep it there for just a moment longer.

He started to rhythmically kick the legs of his desk; the metallic echo usually helped him think. But, this morning was determined to give him a bad grade.

He heard a horrid scraping noise that rang throughout the small enclosed space. Metal against metal. The sound sent shivers up and down his spine, actually making him cringe. He stopped kicking, and he heard the small object fall to the floor. Curious, he slipped out of his chair, crouching under the desk that he's had since he was young; the thing was depressingly tiny compared to him now. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, searching around in the shadows for the item. His shoulder ran into his miserable excuse for a desk, and the thing smacked loudly into the wall before teetering back towards him just far enough to shed some light on the object, the reflective surface flashing brilliantly. He hissed at the pain in his shoulder, but snatched the shiny item anyway.

He surfaced, plopping back into his seat, scooting closer to the desk lamp to get a good look at it.

He recognized it almost immediately. It brought a quick smile to his face. The kind of smile you see on older couples, when they take a last look at the house they're selling, the house they've been living in for years. The smile you see on a mother who watches her children playing, happy they're growing up, but saddened by the constant reminder that one day they'll move out and easily forget her in her old age. One an old man has when looking at a picture of his deceased wife. This tiny piece of shrapnel from an old model spacecraft held several memories for Dib.

And all the memories rounded right back to the same person. Or, more accurately, same alien.

Zim.

Dib had to give that guy one thing, he was admirably persistent. Ever since Zim had set foot on Earthen soil, he was determined to enslave the human race. It had actually been a frightening prospect when Dib was still like, ten years old. But, he's grown since then. And not only age-wise, he also grew to be 6"2. Sure, he was only weighing in at 130 lbs, but weight didn't matter when Zim would be looking at his chest if he stared straight. It was always nice to poke fun at the shorter male, especially since Zim suffered from a terrible case of 'little dog' syndrome.

He ran his thumb across it's rough side, being careful not to apply too much pressure so as to avoid receiving a nasty cut. The side of the Irken spacecraft had been blow up by Dib in one of their more exceptionally dangerous and outrageous shenanigans. He had found the piece before running off, hoping to figure out more about the alien technology. The minuscule debris served its purpose and must have been cast aside as nothing more then a reminder of the past. Which meant very little to a driven thirteen year old boy.

Dib was a tad bit surprised to find himself warmed by the memory. Those were certainly the days. He was never one of those outcasts with nothing to do on the weekends, or weekdays for that matter. Between his favorite show, Mysterious Mysteries - which had unfortunately(in his opinion) been cancelled - and Zim, it was practically impossible to get bored. He had to admit, that green skinned moron certainly does keep you on your toes.

Now, maybe it was Dib's epiphany that even if he didn't try to stop him Zim he would never succeed in ruling the world that ruined their rich game of rivalry. Maybe it was the fact that he grew up, and found more important things to occupy his attention. Whatever the reason, Zim and Dib stopped fighting. Now, they still have their arguments, but it rarely travels into nuclear bomb territory like it used to. In fact, many would call them friends. Dib wasn't certain what they were. Friends seemed too intimate for them. Friends tell each other stuff right? Not Zim and Dib. But, they spent most of their time together, so the enemies title definitely expired.

Dib had decided on what he was going to call them about three years ago. What he likes to call, allies.

They never spoke about what they did in their bases. Though Dib was pretty certain, like himself, Zim had grown tired with the game. The spark was gone. They were disinterested and nothing was succeeding in making them interested.

Dib wasn't certain if that fact made him sad or if it made him happy. At least it meant he wouldn't be getting very nearly mortally wounded every week. Sure, if you were a thrill seeker it was a thousand times better then roller coasters, but goddamn was it tiresome. All the planning, the amount of effort they put into everything.

He heaved a sigh, not certain was to do with the debris now. Did it mean anything anymore?

"Dib!"

Dib executed an excellent five foot jump in the air, yelping in surprise at his little sister's yell. "Jesus, Gaz! What the hell?!"

"Have you even looked at a damn clock?!," her voice came out muffled on the other side of the door. "It's time to go!"

Dib looked up at his clock and hissed a swear under his breath. "Damn... Alright! I'm on my way!"

"Hurry up, Dib!"

Dib rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. Gaz was so impatient. "One second, Gaz! Don't get your panties in a twist!" He heard her huff outside the door, but she didn't say anything else.

He sighed with relief. Her yell had been so loud he was sure if he hadn't already been awake, that harpy-like screech would have cut through the fog like there was no freaking tomorrow. Gaz was gonna make some unlucky guy very confused one day...

Dib took one last look at his long forgotten homework. He considered just leaving it at home and telling his teacher he lost it, ask for a new one so he wouldn't have a nice 'F' on his report card to show his father. But, decided that was a lame excuse, and there was no way he'd have enough time to come up with a better one. So, he tossed the shard of spacecraft into a desk drawer, grabbed his pencil and quickly scribbled a, "Sorry. Had no time," in the middle of the page. He dropped the pencil onto the desktop while he searched wildly for a stapler. The pencil rolled off the desk as he stapled the writing page and the work pamphlet together. He ignored how off-kilter he stapled them, stuffed them in his book bag, shrugged on his trench coat, shoved his feet into his boots, and raced out the door. Gaz was right on his tail, her long legs letting her catch up easily.

"Taking your time today, Dib?," she sneered, glaring at him. Professor Membrane was overprotective of Gaz, so she wasn't allowed to head out for school unless Dib was escorting her. So, every time Dib got them there late, she made him make it up to her. He hoped they weren't going to be late today. He was not in the mood for detention, or Gaz terrorizing him for weeks.

"If we're late...," she threatened, curling her hands into fists. "Don't worry, Gaz, we won't be," Dib said in a calmer tone of voice then he felt like using.

And sure enough, leaning against a stop sign, the certain alien who was now going to be responsible for bringing his English grade down even farther, Zim locked eyes with him. Dib tried hard not to glare. It really was his own fault that he couldn't concentrate, but it was just instinct for Dib to blame him for pretty much everything. Since Zim did it to him, it was only fair...

Zim pushed off the stop sign, that was no longer a bright red, but had been spray painted black months ago. Dib had won a bet on how soon the authorities would notice and deal with it. Just like Dib had said, they completely ignored it, and to this day it was still pitch black. Zim nodded in the direction of Dib, and stuck his tongue out at Gaz. Gaz snapped out and grabbed the snake-like organ, squeezing it with all her might. "Don't do that, pea body. Next time you do it, you won't be getting it back."

Zim growled at her and pinched his lips together, just barely letting out a mumbled, "Disobedient earth worm..."

Gaz rolled her eyes towards the sky, showing one of the only mannerisms her and Dib share. "Ugly green skinned freak..."

Dib grabbed the back of Zim's shirt, pulling him just enough out of reach of his little sister, claws extended near her face. "Hey, leave my baby sister alone, Zim." Gaz stalked away from Zim, but yelled back at Dib from over her shoulder, "I'm not a baby anymore, Dib!"

Zim chuckled at her reaction, but then glared up at Dib. "Let go of me, Dib-stink."

Dib reluctantly let go as they continued walking. The silence was almost solid, so Dib attempted conversation. "Come up with any diabolical plans?"

"I've been working on something. What? You think I'm getting lazy like you, Dib-stink?," the small threat in his tone was answered by a shrug from Dib. "Well, I haven't! I have something! Yes, I do!"

Well, even if Zim had stopped in the invader department, there was no way he was leaving the dramatic department.

Dib rubbed his temple. This was going to be a long day.