Obnoxious yelling. "Catch me if you can, worm baby!"

Answering scowl and witty come back. "Shut up, space boy! You'll be under the knife soon."

The green skinned boy laughed, light pink zipper shaped teeth glistening in the full moon's light. Adrenaline ran through him, as tantalizing as ever.

The human on the other hand was wheezing, wiping a hand over his dripping forehead. Too much…over heating. But still he gave chase, legs weakening but never slowing down to rest. Not for one second would he give up. Never.

The alien smirked, spinning gracefully around a corner. Or at least he intended to do such a thing, after all he was perfect. It should've been effortless to twirl and keep running. Instead he heard a large snap and vile, vicious pain jerked its way up his leg to his hip. He bit down on his lip, drawing blood as he went down. He rolled, from the velocity he'd been traveling, head smacking, cracking, into the concrete, ribs breaking since they were so unbearably fragile.

The harsh cry finally broke loose, echoing, lost in the empty street.

The human's face was red, eyes glistening behind the lenses that hid the real pain that danced in fading amber eyes, metallic red trickled from his nose signaling the fact that his body was shutting down. He dropped a few feet from the alien, shaking…sweat dripping down his face, unable topant as his lungs were giving out. Spots danced in front of his vision, impairing it. He reached a shaking hand out to touch the fallen, dying irken, to win the game of tag, before he too collapsed onto the floor eyes wide, blank…unseeing.

It was silent in the vast street, the two dead enemies not a few inches apart.

A furious, rage filled scream sounded from somewhere nearby.

"Another pair of failures!" The Irken stormed into the dirty street, pressing a button and it faded to a high metal dome.

"Zim…calm down." Dib said following behind the frustrated alien. His amber eyes fell to the pair of dead children on the ground. Crouching, he examined the smaller version of himself and the younger one of his alien enemy.

"How can I 'calm down' Dib-monkey-stink? This is the 18th time they've done this! Eighteen! We've got to finish this soon if we ever hope to continue our glorious battle! All must be perfect…but it isn't working out like Zim planned at all!" Zim smashed his fist into the close by metal wall, a sneer on his face.

"It's going to take time. You knew this. Now, stop having a temper tantrum and help me move them." He stood with the smaller Dib, maybe 11, in his arms. "We have improvements to make."

10 years later…

The taller teenager shoved a revolver against the shorter one's green cheek. His brown eyes glistened in the lab's artificial light.

"What are you going to do now, Ziim?" He ran the butt of the gun down the smooth surface of the other boy's face. "I have you in my clutches…weak…pathetic." He spat out, radiating contempt.

"Silence, Dal-Thing, and Ziim shall tell you." He looked down at his nails, buffing them against his uniform. His creator's uniform. With magenta eyes, clear of any insanity he gazed up at the teenager, whose hands were shaking so subtly only Ziim could really tell. They had been fighting for all their lives. Even as toddler and smeet, taught to hate and revile. To wage war. To spill blood.

Dal gave in and remained silent; wanting to hear the plan of his nemesis, eyes narrowed, the silken amber peeking through black lashes longer than any boy's had a right to be.

It remained just their heavy breathing, the scent of their hate and the heat from the previous chase. The adrenaline was high and the gloomy street lights flickered once, making the shadows covering the boy's faces disappear for only a few seconds.

"Tell me now, Ziim!" Dal commanded, shoving the butt of his gun much more forcibly against his enemies face, when not getting an immediate answer from the green menace.

Ziim smirked and put a finger against Dal's lip's, whispering a ".shh." His antenna perked a little to listen, for the tale-tell noises of feet drifting away and low conversation falling down a hallway not far away.

"Ziim?"

"They're gone."

There was a second of highly tense air, of eyes locked, skin tight…anticipation.

Then Dal slammed his lips down on Ziim's, trying to consume the other. Ziim moaned and wrapped his skinny arms around his neck, jumping and wrapping his legs around Dal's waist, before he was shoved back up against a holographic wall, desperate to make their skin touch.

"Ziim…" Dal hissed, biting down harshly on the smaller man's mouth, running his piercing across it to ease the hurt he might've caused. The alien responded eagerly to the touches like always, giving as good as he got.

It was always like this; hurried, insanely wild, heat licking up their insides. The panic…knowing they only had a small amount of time together before they were forced to pretend again. To become enemies. To become their fathers, their creators.

The alien writhed against his lover, large magenta eyes falling shut, as he abandoned all sacred thought for this moment…this moment alone in Dal's arms. Where he was so much more than just a weapon, a tool to be used in the continuing war between the humans and Irkens.
Dal whimpered, feeling found instead of lost when he was touching Ziim. Felt like he might be something other than a clone made by his dad, to keep on fighting. To finish this stupid fight that didn't matter anymore. Here he felt safe and more than a little consumed by the beautiful male before him, clutching him like a life line.

"D-Dal…I…need…t-this…I-" The irken stuttered, claws clenching and unclenching the fabric of the trench coat Dal wore like a shield. The human nodded, he understood. Understood too well maybe.

"I need you, Ziim." Dal hissed, against light jade bruised lips. Then they gave in to the urge, knowing by now that there was no use fighting. If only the men responsible for this thought the same thing…

************************************************************************************

Zim, content at last, flopped down on the pink couch that had been in the turquoise base for many, many years, watching the Dib-Stink pace like everything was going to fall apart at any moment. Foolish Earth child.

"Stink-breath, what on Irk are you doing?" The question was forced out of curiosity. When the Dib got like this the only way to get anything out of him was to ask a specific question.

"Nothing…it's just, I don't know." Dib ran a hand down the back of his shaved neck, glancing anywhere but at the irken lounging on the couch like a cat.

"What do you mean nothing? What's wrong? Everything is perfect now. They hate each other and are sufficient in their strengths, personality data bases, and have enough uniqueness not to be exactly like us. They are perfect. Well at least Ziim is. I don't know about that meat brain of yours."

Dib flicked Zim upside the head, not in the mood for a qualm, rather exhausted from taking notes. Even after 10 years of designing the two and growing them to match a perfect levels of intelligence, vigor, stealth and originality something still felt off.

It wasn't the IQ. Both at least their creator's equal.

Not the strength. Each able to lift the other's weight and then some.

Stealth. Pah-leese. Easy enough to engineer the knowledge of how to break and enter without any noise.

Age. Nope. Not too young, not too old. Just right to keep up with the stress it took to fight another human being to the death every day.

So what on Ir-earth, was it?

"I don't know, Zim. Something just feels off about the entire thing. Like…there's something we're missing." Not wanting to hear anything negative, Zim grunted and shoved a sandwich in Dib's direction.

"Here, hyooman. You have earned the reward of a piece of meat between two bread slices. Enjoy and be silent."

"But, Zim I do-"

"Shove it down your throat or I'll do it for you."

When Zim said things in that tone of voice…Dib shoved the sandwich in his mouth.