Since she is so very, very awesome and such a wonderfully nice person, this is my attempt at a birthday ficcy for ShikamaruNoMiko. Happy birthday! Much love to you and your writing! :-D Its also because of her that I even posted this, much less wrote it.
But yeah, I got this random idea when I was talking to her once about our birthdays and schtuff, and I really did try to make it good...
Disclaimer: IZ belongs to other, much richer people than I. Seriously, if I owned it, would I write fics about it?
Monday dawned with the promise of rain after an unnaturally lovely weekend, furthering the already crushing misery of the skool-children. They had just entered the part of the year when it becomes painfully clear that school has officially started and that they're stuck with it until the sweet freedom of summer. The heavy doom of being stuck in the same class with the same people for such an ungodly length of time had flung the students into a misery of despair so deep that even the classroom pets could do little to cheer them.
In a futile attempt to cheer the students, recess had been extended with the lable of 'gym,' meaning more of the skools precious funding was being spent on a teacher whose sole purpose was to toss balls at the children as they ran amok. Today began the trial run of this oh-so-clever idea.
The chosen gym teacher was a disturbingly muscular man clad in tiny bike shorts and a faded gray t-shirt. He stomped over to the group of children and bared his teeth in a sick parody of a smile.
"Okay, class! Today, we's gonna be playin' football! YEAH!" He barked out, pelting Torque Smacky in the chest with a football with such force that he was hurtled backwards into Melvin, who just lay twitching for a minute before crawling off to sit in a corner and heal.
Oddly enough, most of the children seemed thrilled at the idea and teams were quickly chosen. Zim glanced around nervously at the people on his team (the teacher had forced the other students to put Zim and Dib on teams, which pleased no one) and meandered casually over to Billy, his handy supplier of information.
"So...this 'football'...," he began, then looked quizzically at the red-head. Billy sighed.
"Its a game, Zim. You try to get the ball to the goal and tackle the person who has it on the other team," he explained simply, used to being asked such bizarre questions. What kind of weird country had Zim come from, anyway?
"Hmm...I see...," he mumbled, then waved Billy off as he made mental notes of who was on the other team. His eyes narrowed as he saw Dib, leaning uncomfortably against a wall as Gretchen rambled on merrily. That Gretchen...the Dib should only have to listen to him ramble! Not her!
He was about to march over there and...do something...when a loud, obnoxious whistle was blown right next to his head, causing him to scream and flail about in pain.
"Now that ya gots yur teams, lets get started! Team one gets da ball first!" The teacher bellowed, ignoring the pained glare Zim was giving him. The teams scurried out to the playing area and the game began.
Dib was on team one, and by some incredible miracle of chance, he'd managed to get the ball. Being so familiar with dodging lazers and Zims less-than-perfect-but-still-dangerous security, he managed to avoid pursuers from the other team as he dashed to the roughly marked goal.
"Dib! Hey, over here!"
He looked over to see Torque waving his arms frantically. Dib hurled the ball at him just as two slender arms wrapped around his waist and he was tackled to the ground. Dib turned his head to see Zim smirking evilly at him, arms still tightly circling his waist.
"Hello, Dib-worm," he said sneered as Dib began trying to twist himself around to face his nemesis.
"Zim! Wh-what are you doing?! Get off!" Dib yelped, a bit surprized. He was the one that usally tackled Zim, not the other way around, and the reversed situation was a bit disturbing for him.
Zim, however, seemed quite fine with this and seemed to have no intentions of moving any time soon. Instead, he simply tightened his grip and grinned more broadly.
"Why should I? Do you not tackle people in this...football of yours? I am just playing this repulsive, primitive human game like all the other filthy stink-children." In truth, he was just enjoying the chance to hug Dib without death-threats flying.
"Could you at least let me breathe?! And this really isn't how football is played!" Zim loosened his grip a little, adding to Dibs suspicion.
"What are you up to, Zim? What kind of evil plan are you...planning?" Dib demanded, wriggling around to face Zim.
From inside the skool (for they are outside), Gaz looked from Mr. Eliots window across the skool-yard at the two boys on the field. A tiny smile played across her features.
"I knew it," she muttered, turning from the window and walking back to her desk.
"Nonesense! I know not of this plan of which you speak! You speak madness! Zim plans nothing! I AM ZI--hey!"
Dib had managed to wriggle around enough to free himself of the aliens death-grip as he'd been distracted with his rant. Having done so, he quickly reversed the situation by launching himself onto Zim and pinning him to the ground.
"Gotcha! Victory for Earth!" Dib cheered triumphantly, beaming down at Zims look of utter and complete surprize. Which then turned into an indignant glare.
"Get off of me, you miserable human filthy!" He snapped, sounding less wrathful than he'd intended. This game of wrestling, or just repetitive tackles, was much more fun than the pathetic football the other children were so wrapped up in. Hmm...speaking of the other children...Zim looked around at his classmates, all of whom seemed to have forgotten the two existed and were merrily ignoring them and going about their game.
"Miserable fools!" he muttered angrily, "How dare they take so little notice of Zim?!"
Dib blinked and looked around at their oblivious classmates, then shook his head and sighed. "They think we're both crazy, of course they're going to ignore us! Besides, their stupidity is an advantage for you, remember? Any intelligent being would see right through your pathetic disguise!" He said, traces of sarcasm and scorn evident in his voice.
Zim glared. "My disguise is ingenious, Dib-worm. Now get off me or else I'll do something horrible to you," he threatened, a wicked gleam in his eyes. Dib, however, couldn't see this gleam because of the all-concealing contacts and therefore took this as an empty threat.
"Like what, Space Boy? Any of your evil alien technology would probably get their attention and blow your cover," he taunted, though he doubted anyone would notice anything odd about anything Zim chose to use, if they noticed it at all.
"Superior beings don't necessarily rely on technology, human," he said, grinning evilly. Now Dib was beginning to get nervous with Zims increasingly strange behavior and the decidedly evil look about him, but he wasn't given the chance to oblige and get off or to do much of anything, really. Zims arms lashed out and wrapped around the humans back, yanking him down and silencing any shouts or protests with a quick, light kiss, which managed to paralyze Dib. He blushed deeply as they stared at each other for a moment, then Zim violently shoved him away, cackling insanely.
"Mehehahaha! Victory for Zim!" He shouted, running a few feet away from the still immobile boy as the teacher again blew his whistle, signifying the end of gym class.
Dib stayed in his trance-like state as the mostly filthy and significantly cheered up children shuffled back into the classroom. From time to time, he would brush his fingers lightly across his mouth and blush.
He was staring at the board as Ms. Bitters droned on about misery and doom when a paper airplane smacked him in the head, stirring him from his trance. He glared across the room at Zim, who looking innocently at the ceiling. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at the big-headed boy and broke into a quickly surpressed grin, then pointed at the airplane. Dib raised a brow (or the eye thingy thats equivalent to it, you know what I mean ) and picked up the plane, which had landed on his desk. He unfolded it and read, in Zims sloppy scrawled hand-writing:
'Dib-human, next time you come for one of your miserably pathetic spying ventures, let us play some more of this football.' Followed by a demonic-looking scribble Dib guessed was supposed to be a smiley face.
He looked from the note to Zim, and they smiled.
That wasn't so horrible, was it? A tad short, maybe...but thats no reason to dislike it.
I had seen only one epi from the 3rd DVD and didn't know they already had a gym teacher, so forgive that slight inconsistancy.
Yeah, I don't really like football, and when I was in little-kid school they always made us play some bizarre version of it that mainly consisted of little kids being smote down by the future varsity kids while select few just stood apart and watched the madness. I found it rather amusing and I never really had to play.
But anyway! I have little else to say, since the fic is over and whatnot, and besides that I have to go to school. Yeah, so go read her stuff and see if you do not agree that she is indeed awesome.
I really need to learn some more positive adjectives..