Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! And no, I do not own Invader Zim. Enjoy your day! :D

"Hey, loser." Gaz walks into the kitchen, her signature glare adorning her face. "Since dad is holed up at work, I'm spending today at Bloaty's. Make sure I don't see you, if you want to keep your face- got it?" My mouth drops open.

"No way! I did not just spend two days making a Thanksgiving meal for nobody to eat it!" Her scowl deepens, and she raises a fist.

"Oh, quit your crying. Maybe you could find a chupacabra to share it with. Better yet, why not ask your alien boyfriend if he wants some? Either way, just don't bother me." She stalks off before I can even say "He's not my boyfriend!"

"Great. Just great." I stare out at the table I made, three spots all ready and looking hopeful. I glance at the counter, piled with traditional foods, much more than I had even hoped to be eaten. I peek into the oven at the browning turkey.

All for nothing.

"No!" I slam a fist onto the counter. "Dammit, Gaz!" She did this every year. Bails as soon as she hears dad won't attend. She stuck so far up his ass, she goes completely blind to all the effort I make. "He promised…" I lower my head. That's what I get for believing him.

Maybe you could find a chupacabra to share it with. Better yet, why not ask your alien boyfriend if he wants some? How many times do I have to tell her he's my enemy?! That green space-freak has been the bane of my existence ever since he came to this planet- why the hell would I want to share all my effort with him?!

Because who else is there?

But Zim isn't there for me! He hates me just as much as I hate him!

But you know you could rope him into eating your food.

Well… sure, I guess I could. I've done better manipulating in the past. But again- why would I want to do that?

Because doesn't it suck to be alone on Thanksgiving?

Well, yeah. But I'm used to it.

But do you deserve to be? And wouldn't it be a shame to see all this food go to waste?

… Am I really that desperate?

Yes.

"Hey, Zim!" I stand out on the sidewalk, not getting any closer for fear of the gnomes getting me. He pokes his head out the door.

"What do you want, Stinkbeast?" He crosses his arms.

"Do you know what today is?"

"The day I finally conquer this filthy planet?" Clearly I wasn't supposed to hear that, because he responds to my shock. "Oh relax, Dib-worm. The day will come, but not today. So instead of standing there like the idiot you are, how about you tell me what it is you want me to know."

"Oh, um…" I clear my throat. "Today is Thanksgiving." He makes the connection.

"Ah, yes. The food holiday where you all stuff yourselves bloated. What about it?"

"Aren't you celebrating it?"

"Of course not."

"But everyone celebrates Thanksgiving here. If you don't, you'll look abnormal. And I thought your mission was to look normal…"

"I do look normal!" His voice starts raising a few octaves, a clear indicator that he's getting worked up. Good.

"You look normal, but you don't celebrate the greatest holiday there is?"

"I have never celebrated it before, and I'm still undiscovered!" Rats.

"Um… But I hear Mrs. Drag is going to assign us an essay over today!" He rolls his eyes.

"Like I can't just look up traditions and fake my way through it."

"Yeah, but…" I think a moment. "I hear she'll make us give small details in the essay, and she'll want us to describe the food's tastes."

"The… tastes?" I sense hesitation. Perfect.

"Yeah, the tastes. You know, sweet potatoes and gravy and pumpkin pie… she'll want us to describe the tastes and textures. But if you've never had it…"

"But what if these foods are toxic to me?" He's muttering to himself, but I decide to jump in and answer.

"The sweet potatoes shouldn't. It's pretty sweet. Same with the pumpkin pie. And I've seen you take a bite or two out of mashed potatoes, and you're still alive." He nods slowly, and I'm surprised he's even listening to me.

"But where can I acquire the substances? And how do I prepare them?" He looks to me, the all-knowing human, for answers. I smile inwardly.

"Well… Not that I'd usually make such an offer, but since it's the holidays… I'm having a small feast at my house with all of those. The food is prepared and everything. If you wanted to…" His eyes darken.

"You're trying to lure me into a trap."

"What? No! I don't even care if you come or not!"

"Then why would you try to help me?"

"Because if you get captured now, then what specimen am I going to bring to the Swollen Eyeball convention next summer?" He thinks it over. My response seems legit.

"And you're sure she's going to assign an essay?" I can see him wavering.

"Positive." He runs and hand through his wig, looking uncomfortably thoughtful. Finally, he sighs.

"Fine. I shall be over soon to engage in the feasting. But be warned- one sign that it's a trap, and I'll have Gir slice off your head so fast, you won't even get to hear me laugh about it!"

I'm just finishing up the eggnog when the doorbell rings. How nice. He didn't bust through a wall this time. I open it up, careful to keep my excitement contained. Before I can even manage a "hello" Zim is shoving past me into my house. Typical.

"Your house looks plain next to the ones on TV, Dib." I don't even have to turn around to know that he's scrutinizing every aspect of my home. "Have you cleaned it recently?" I hear a gasp, and turn around to see a look of horror on his face. "There aren't GERMS, are there?!" Oh, right. I forgot about that phobia…

"No, there shouldn't be. I always clean the house thoroughly on holidays." Just in case anyone decided to spend one with me for once.

He relaxes slightly, looking almost embarrassed for his fear. "Good. I'll not have my enemy being a slob." I roll my eyes.

"So, there's food…"

"FOOD!" I jump as I notice the robot for the first time. How did he manage to stay quiet…?

"Yeah, food. A whole bunch of it." Zim takes notice of the kitchen for the first time.

"You've made enough to feed an entire Irken fleet! And CALM DOWN, GIR!" His SIR unit was jumping up and down at the sight of the counter. It cheered me up to see somebody happy at the work I've done.

"I tend to go all out on the cooking." I shrug, and show the pair to the table. The three spots didn't seem so hopeless anymore. (I switched out Gir's glass plates for plastic, though. Even if he's never home, Dad would notice if even one were missing.)

"Help yourselves." I grab my plate and quickly get some, Zim right behind me, grabbing whatever he could (besides meat or vegetables) before Gir even got up.

"WHEEEEHEEEEE!" My plate hadn't even made contact with the table before the robot was up and getting huge portions of every dish. I don't even think plates are supposed to hold that much… Repelled, I turn to Zim, anxious to see him try my food. But he isn't looking at his plate; he's looking at me.

"You first." His arms are crossed, as if daring me to argue.

"Huh?"

"You go first. How do I know it isn't poisoned?" Oh.

"Alright then." I pile up turkey, stuffing, and some mashed potatoes on my fork and take a bite. "There, see?" He looks down at his plate, still unconvinced. "Look- if you feel funny after eating it, I promise that you can feed me to a gopher or something." He looks a bit surprised at my statement, and picks up his fork.

"Which one are the sweet potatoes?" I point to the orange and yellow pile on his plate. He nods slightly and get some on his fork, taking a small bite, waiting for his doom….

But he's fine. He slowly takes a bigger bite, and seems to enjoy the flavor this time. "It's… sweet. Very soft and fluffy." Within seconds he finishes it off. "Not… bad. But I still hate you!" He points a finger in my face, a familiar gesture. I brush it aside.

"Likewise, alien. Now go on and try the pumpkin pie." He seems almost eager this time as he takes up his fork, and I can't stop the small smile at seeing another being enjoying my food. And as much as I hate him… It felt good to have him here. For once we seemed to be at peace with one another, and it felt almost… friendly.

Too bad that'll probably end once he realizes there was no essay…