When Gaz won two tickets to the Oregon State Fair in the school raffle, the first person she invited to go with her was her father. When he told her he was far too busy to go, as Gaz knew he would, she was left with no choice but to invite her brother, Dib. Dib had readily agreed, pleased that Gaz actually wanted to do something with him for once. However, the day they were to go to the fair, Dib was late meeting her at the school gate when class was over. She waited, and waited some more, all the while grinding her teeth and tapping her foot, impatiently checking the time on her phone. The third time she pulled her phone from her pocket and checked the screen, she saw that she had a text from Dib.

Hey, Gaz. I'm going to have to cancel our trip to the fair tonight. Something came up with the Paranormal Club. I'm sorry! Maybe you can find someone else to go with?

Love, Dib.

Scowling, Gaz slipped her phone back into her pocket and crossed her arms over her chest. Someone else to go with? Where was she supposed to find someone else to go with? Dib knew very well that Gaz had no friends to speak of. The only person Gaz ever spoke to was her brother (albeit very reluctantly) and her lab partner, Rachel Moran, who Gaz only spoke to out of necessity. Gaz was not popular; her sullen, unfriendly manner made it difficult for her to make friends. Indeed, most of the school was afraid of her to some degree, and wanted nothing whatsoever to do with her.

Of course, there was one person who wasn't afraid of her, but merely avoided her out of dislike. This person was Zim, and he was currently descending the staircase that led from the school's entrance. He was typing rapidly on the computer display of his wristwatch, his brow furrowed. Gaz watched him as he raised his eyes to the clouds, seemingly looking for something in the sky. He had grown taller over the years; he and Dib were now the same height, nearly six feet. Now in his last year of high school, Zim still wore his usual disguise, along with a red armoured tunic similar to the uniform he had worn when he first arrived on Earth, which he had gradually outgrown the longer he was on Earth.

It was now or never. Without Dib's car, Gaz wouldn't be able to get to the fair. She had only one option.

"Hey, Zim!" She called, bracing herself for what she had to do. Zim's head jerked up; when he caught sight of Gaz, he stopped, his expression becoming suspicious.

"Little Gaz." He said, eying her as though she were an angry rattlesnake. "To what do I owe this displeasure?"

"Don't get smart with me." Gaz snapped. "Listen… Are you doing anything tonight?"

Zim blinked, raising a nonexistent eyebrow in surprise. "Tonight? Why do you ask?"

Gaz sighed, reached into her backpack, and pulled out the fair tickets. She waved them in Zim's face, her expression cross. "I have two tickets to the State Fair. Dib and I were going to go tonight, but he just bailed on me. Will you-" She broke off, turning her head away as an angry blush creeped across her cheeks. "Will you… go to the fair with me? I need a ride."

Zim frowned, bemused. "What is this 'fair' you speak of? Why would I want to go anywhere with you?"

Sighing through clenched teeth, Gaz fought to keep a hold on her temper. "It's for fun, Zim. Normal people go to the fair for fun. You want to seem normal, don't you?"

Zim did not seem convinced, glancing over his shoulder at the other students walking past, who were eying the pair curiously. Gaz knew she was losing him, so she tried her last tactic.

"And… It would probably make Dib angry if he knew."

That got his attention. Zim turned back to Gaz with an intrigued expression. A devious grin slid across his green face. "Dib-worm?" He said. "You think he'd be angry? Well…" He seemed to consider it. "...I don't think I need your help making him angry. But I suppose it would be funny. Very well, Gaz-human!" He declared, gazing down at her imperiously and pointing a finger at her chest. "I will accompany you to this fair. And oh, what fun shall be had!"

Gaz rolled her eyes, swatting his hand away and fixing him with a sharp glare.

"Okay. First, don't call me Gaz-human. My name is Gaz. Second, ditch the outfit. I'm not going to be seen out in public with you dressed like a space cowboy." She looked him up and down, considering his build. "You need human clothes. The rest is fine, I guess. Most people are too stupid to notice how awful your disguise is."

Zim scowled, affronted, but Gaz plowed on before he could say anything. "Pick me up at my house at six. And not in your spaceship." Gaz turned to leave, glaring over her shoulder as she walked away. "Don't be late, got that?"

Zim watched her go, his expression thoughtful, before he too set off for home. He had quite a few preparations to make, if she insisted on being driven to the fair in a car, rather than the faster route of flying. He considered what she had said about his wardrobe; the alien didn't see anything wrong with it, but if the Gaz human demanded he change, he might as well go along with it, if only for the night. Here was an opportunity to learn more about the human race; its culture, clothing - and whatever a fair was.

Zim arrived at Gaz's house at precisely 5:59 PM. At the sound of a car door slamming, Gaz looked out of her window and was surprised to see a red convertible parked in front of her house, with an Irken insignia on the hood.

Zim must have modified his ship, Gaz thought, mildly impressed. Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Before she left her room, Gaz checked her reflection in the mirror that hung on the back of her door; she had chosen black jean shorts with tights underneath them, black sneakers, and a dark grey tank top. Her hair was parted in two short French braids to keep it out of her face on the rides. She almost never wore makeup, but tonight she had decided on dark blue mascara and just a dash of eyeshadow that sparkled slightly in the light. Gaz inspected her appearance, feeling slightly foolish, and then stuck her tongue out at her reflection. She hated dressing herself up. It was not as if Zim cared about her clothing, anyway.

Upon heading downstairs and opening the front door, however, Gaz realized that perhaps Zim was not as ignorant about fashion as she thought.

Zim had followed her advice and done away with his armoured tunic and gloves. Instead, he wore a fitted black t-shirt with a turtleneck collar, black skinny jeans, and black Converse sneakers. Around his neck was a heavy silver chain with a skull pendant not unlike the one Gaz often wore. Gaz had never seen his bare hands before; his fingers were long and lean, with a sharp talon at the end of each.

"Little Gaz." Zim said. He gestured to his attire. "I have spent the afternoon researching the clothing customarily worn by humans within our age bracket. Does it meet your rigorous standards?"

Gaz opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She quickly shut it and stepped around him, marching down the front steps towards the car. "It's fine." She called over her shoulder. "Let's just go."

Arching an eyebrow, Zim followed, opening the car door for Gaz and shutting it behind her. He slid into the driver's seat and the engine roared to life. Gaz admired the inside of the car; there were buttons and switches and screens unlike any Earth car, and in addition to the hood there was also an Irken symbol on the steering wheel.

"How did you modify your ship so quickly?" She asked, as Zim pulled away from the curb and they set off down the road. "It's only been, what, three hours?"

Zim smirked slightly, as though she had asked a foolish question. "I didn't." He said. "This isn't my ship. I swiped this car from the city dump." His smile widened at Gaz's shocked expression. "I remodeled it to fit my needs. It serves as a typical Earth vehicle, and is also equipped with the finest weaponry the Irken Empire has to offer."

Gaz was impressed despite herself. "And are you sure you can drive this thing?" She asked, as Zim sped through a yellow light. Zim chuckled.

"Oh, Little Gaz-human. I've been piloting ships since before you were born. This is nothing."

I certainly hope so, Gaz thought. She settled back in her seat and glared out the window. And I certainly hope I don't regret this.