A/N: Mmmkay. I'm writing a oneshot to try to job my writer's block...

They say you change a lot as you grow up. From ten to fifteen, from hatred to love.

I'm not sure why I'm chasing Zim, but I know I am. Through alleys, atop buildings, one more relentless pursuit to add to our collection. They never lead anywhere, never change anything...I sometimes wonder if my little alien even realizes that he's not going to end up on an operating table after this.

In fact, he's not going to end up on an operating table at all.

Over the years, I thought it over (unlike Zim, I have that capacity). Where would I be left if I turned him over? Simple. I would be lonely and friendless. It would be different if he was actually a threat to the planet. But...with his schemes? Besides, I've learned to translate Irken, and I know he isn't wanted. He probably knows that, too. Still, he wants to play, and unstopped, his plots might actually work.

So, I stop them.

But that's all.

Do I have any friends? No. But Zim's kinda close, I guess.

Over the years...I guess it developed into something else. No, I will never, ever love Invader Zim. But maybe, just maybe, lust. I started out obsessing over the alien that had basically ruined my life. Hateful obsession. Then, I suppose teenage hormones kicked in. I started thinking about Zim in different ways. Lewd thoughts would pop into my head if one of us pinned the other fighting. Strangely enough, his quirks started to appeal to me. His insults. His ego. That was when it turned into a crush. And I suppose it become lust when he started showing up in my masturbation fantasies.

Into a building. Racing through the hallways, dodging innocent passerby on their way from work, glaring at the two kids disrupting their everyday routine. Desk jobs. How boring. My job--Zim, of course--is so much more 'interesting'.

The small alien rounds a corner, and by the time I make it around, he's gone from sight. I look around, eyes falling on the door beside me. My hand snaps out, ripping the door open and storming inside. Zim is, unshockingly, hiding there. He's tense, and I can tell he's nervous. After making so many threats to get his organs pulled out his mouth while he's still alive, I suppose I can understand. Our fights are a little less evenly matched, now, too. Zim can't grow, since he's a fully developed Irken. I'd estimate that he's only four-foot-nine. In comparison, I've grown to five-foot-ten.

Still, Zim has training. He launches himself at me in desperation, throwing fists into my stomach. The air leaves my body in a woosh, a sickening pain in the pit of my belly. Grabbing his shoulders, I throw him against the back of the door, slamming it closed again.

He scrambles to get to his feet, giving me time to recover. I throw myself to him again, pinning him against the door. Our bodies press together, and I can feel well-trained Irken flesh and muscle tighten and jerk, trying to get away. His Irken heart is racing, beating against me as he flails.

Oh, God.

Zim's so beautiful when he's scared like that, trying to fight away. He has so much life in him, drawing me to him and only increasing my desire. I watch him for several moments, tempted to actually act on my feelings. Is it a good idea? Maybe, just maybe, he could reciprocate my emotions, and we wouldn't have to be alone any more, we could meet in ways other than this...

"Zim..." I breath softly, studying the smaller creature against me.

Without allowing me to finish, he throws himself against one of my arms in a moment of desperation, taking advantage of my weak moment. Flinging open the door and knocking me down, he's off and running again, Irken boots pounding against the carpet in the hallway.

I suppose it'll always be like this. No matter why I'm chasing him, I'll always be caught somewhere between success and failure. The world will win, and Zim and I will always lose together.

How many of you were surprised that they didn't get together? xD