Invaders of the Caribbean

Chapter 2

Gaz had just snuggled back into a comfortable position under the covers when a thought struck her. The necklace. The one she'd taken from Dib twelve years ago. Where had she put it?

She did her best to ignore the question, but the question didn't want to be ignored. It kept nagging and nagging. Where was it? Did she lose it? Had someone stolen it? It set her tossing and turning when she'd much rather be asleep, and, with one final curse, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and sat up, opening one eye slightly to cast it around the room.

Where had she put the stupid thing?

After some angry, thorough searching, she ended up searching through her bedside table. She pulled out a drawer, removed her diary (which she had neglected to write in for about five years) and looked around the drawer. Nothing. She was about to slam it shut in anger and throw a hissy fit when she noticed something…peculiar. The bottom was too high for the drawer. A false bottom? Jesus, she'd forgotten anything like THAT was in her table…

Gaz, suspending her disbelief for a moment, reached around in the drawer and, feeling a handle, pulled it, revealing a hidden pocket underneath. And there…

The necklace. It was dusty, but the skull engraved upon it smiled uncannily back up at her, causing her to glare at it. She'd pulled the thing out of twelve years of gathering dust and what did it do? It tried to scare her. Well, it couldn't scare HER. Her old self was Lady Innocent McPeacefulcakes compared to her now. Just to show the necklace, she picked it up and brushed the dust off of it with her thumb. The small light from the candle beside her bed gave it an off-yellow shine, and cast shadows around the many engravings, giving it an even creepier appearance. Gaz ignored that particular fact and put the damn thing on, clicking the small latch on the back together. She admired herself in the mirror for a moment, feeling like a different person, just standing and looking more dangerous than she was normally allowed to…

The sharp rap on the door brought Gaz back to her senses. "Gazlene! Gazlene, are you decent?"

Her father. JUST what she needed in the morning. Gaz grumbled, and, remembering the necklace, hid it under her night-dress before yelling, "Yeah, dad, come in."

Membrane entered the room with a box under his arm. He took a look around the room. "Still asleep at this hour? Perhaps you should open up your curtains every once in a while, Gazlene." He chuckled at his own little joke as Gaz's maid opened up the curtains as if on cue. The bright light outside made Gaz squint. She mumbled something angrily about the stupid sun before returning her attention to her father, and, more importantly, the box under his arm.

"Hey, dad, what's in the box?" Gaz pointed at the box in her father's arms, not even bothering to cover her curiosity. It was too early in the morning (or…well, at least, it was too soon to when she'd woken up, as it was really more like afternoon) to be cynical. Her father chuckled.

"A present for my favorite daughter, who has been studying REAL SCIENCE with more enthusiasm then I expected her to!" Membrane handed the box to Gaz before striking his 'real science' pose. He then gave her an encouraging, fatherly, shake-of-the-shoulders. You know what I'm talking about.

More curious than she normally would have liked, Gaz opened the box and peered inside. Upon first glance it was normal fabric, but when she completely removed the top of the box and removed her present from it, it proved to be a very beautiful (and rather expensive-looking) dress. She turned back to her father, who gave her a thumbs-up. She smiled back at him, something she reserved for special occasions. She was flattered. He'd remembered to get it in black and purple, the only colors she wore without complaining of being uncomfortable. NO ONE remembered. Ever.

"Well? Go put it on, Gazlene." Membrane motioned to the maid who had opened the curtains. "Zita, why don't you help her?"

Zita nodded, though her gaze towards Gaz was disdainful. The two girls disappeared behind the standing curtain as Gaz stripped herself of her sleep attire and had Zita help her into the new dress.

Her father chatted idly as she got dressed. "I was hoping you would wear that. If you remember, and I have no doubt that you do, as you are my daughter, and I am a genius, so my daughter is ALSO a genius, without a doubt, that today is Iggins' promotion."

Gaz rolled her eyes. Iggins. She knew it. Her father seemed very much determined to set them up as a couple, despite the fact that Iggins was completely repulsive to her. However, her train of thought was stopped short by a sudden tug on the corset, leaving her desperately trying to catch the wind that had been knocked out of her.

"Commodore Iggins, he'll be after today. Are you alright back there? The dress fits all right? I hear that's the latest fashion in London."

Gaz gasped her lungs full of air to reply, "Well, women in London have found out how to breath with their skin." Before there was another tug on the corset and her lungs were uncomfortably empty once again.

Membrane was probably about to say something about how interesting that was, and how it could maybe benefit REAL SCIENCE, but he was stopped short by yet another knock on Gaz's door. He went to answer it, and, with a word of apology to Gaz, slipped out of the room, with only herself and Zita, who seemed only too pleased to put her through pain.

~!~

Dib stood idly in the front hall of The Membrane house. This whole situation made him uncomfortable. He'd never actually been inside of Professor Membrane's house, despite being…almost friends with Gaz. This place was pretty old, right? Were there ghosts living around here? No poltergeists, certainly, otherwise the place wouldn't have been as clean, but if this place was so old, then it probably had unhappy spirits of some sort somewhere.

Without thinking, Dib reached for his pocket and the notepad inside. He was all too ready to start taking notes on the place, but was stopped promptly by none other than the professor. He stuffed the notepad into his pocket, pretending he hadn't taken it out at all, and picked up the box he had with him. "Ah, professor…!"

Membrane stopped him short. "Now, now. You're friends with my daughter, and as you haven't gotten anyone, I wish for you to treat me as a father figure. Call me 'Dad'."

Dib raised a curious eyebrow. "Um…'dad'?"

Membrane thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No, that's a little too informal. We're both going to have to compromise. Call me Membrane."

Dib was more comfortable with Membrane then with 'dad'. That might have ended badly. "Ah, yes, Membrane. Anyway, this is…" Dib set the box on the table besides them, unhooked the latches that held it closed, and opened it, the top sitting uselessly as Membrane craned his neck over (still in it's lab-coat collar, though, don't forget that) to see what it was.

Membrane grinned widely and clapped his hands twice as Dib carefully removed the new sword, and held it to reflect the light. "Ah, splendid! What wonderful craftmenship! I'm sure Commodore Iggins will be very pleased indeed with this, Dib." Membrane took the sword, and, in a few moments, had put the sword through a few choice practice swings (using the swordsmanship skills that you KNOW he has) and had deemed it a 'great sword'.

Membrane handed the sword back to Dib to be put in the box. "Tell your master for me that he has made a great weapon, one which will certainly punish many, all in the name of REAL SCIENCE!"

Dib knew a compliment when he heard one, even if Membrane was addressing the wrong person. Dib himself had forged the sword from the sweat on his back, and, even if Membrane had complimented his master, he was really complimenting Dib. The boy smiled. "I shall. Every craftsman is proud to hear that their work pleases someone." He and Membrane had a short, awkward moment of silence before the sound of someone trying to come downstairs gently while in great pain turned them both around.

Gaz couldn't breath. She really couldn't. Zita had made sure to tie the corset uncomfortably tight, and now just taking steps down the stairs hurt. She was thinking about giving up and going back upstairs when she saw Dib and her father chatting downstairs, only to turn and look at her. She hadn't seen Dib in a while, and she was only too happy to see the only friend she had on this godforsaken rock of an island (not that she would admit it or anything). That was what gave her the push to get downstairs.

And then she had to ruin her high by giving a snarky remark. "So you come over for the first time and it's to see dad?" Internally, she slapped herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I REALLY want to lose my only friend, don't I? Ugh.

Dib seemed mostly unfazed, however, much to Gaz's (hidden) relief. He was probably getting used to her verbal abuse by now. "Aw, you're so terribly sweet. You must be proud of your good manners." There was a point in time, somewhere in his youth, when Gaz would have terrified him by her unsaid threat, but he was used to it by now. The thorns had gone blunt after the first three times (in a row, too!) Gaz had threatened him and then not followed through. Maybe she was outgrowing her violence at last. One could only hope.

Gaz smirked at him. "Was that an insult? I ought to have you hanged, Dib." It was playful banter, but she saw Dib glance towards Membrane, who was giving him a 'if you do anything to my daughter, I have a shovel and a backyard. I doubt anyone would miss you' look.

"But then you'd miss me, Miss Membrane."

"That's too many 'M's in a row. My name is Gaz, Dib. How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"As many times as it takes for me to forget my manners, Miss Membrane." Dib smirked in triumph as Gaz, once again, let the "too many 'M's" anger gnaw at her, but it fell when she gave him a glower that would have had the icecaps melting.

"Well, Gazlene, Dib. It's good to see you two getting on so well, but we have to go and see Iggins' promotion! Come along, Gazlene! In the name of REAL SCIENCE!"

As Membrane took a few moments to pose, Gaz returned her gaze to Dib. "Well, it's been good talking to you, Mister Nameless. Perhaps I'll see you again sometime." She turned on her heel, and gracefully (and very painfully) walked away, following her father closely in case she fainted, and needed something that would catch her. Or someone. Whatever. He did help her into the carriage when she could hardly step up herself, so that was good.

Dib watched after Gaz as she turned her back on him. He felt somehow dejected, but he wouldn't let it bother him too much. Gaz just didn't understand people, and maybe she hadn't meant to offend him. Wait, no. She definitely meant to offend him. Well, she'd forget about it soon enough. She never remembered to stay angry with him. It was just a thing. With that thought, he let himself be escorted out, giving enough breathing room for Gaz, and got to the door just in time to watch her ride away. "See you soon, Gaz." It was a mumble, not even loud enough for the butler who had escorted him out to hear. But it satisfied him, because, well, that was what she'd wanted, and he'd given it to her. Just because she hadn't heard it didn't mean it hadn't happened.

That thought was enough for him to get to the celebration by.

~!~

The majestic green head held a regal air about it, as though it was just too amazing for you, a mere mortal, to comprehend, and therefore would not lower itself to converse with you. The salty wind that emanated from the strong waves of the ocean blew the creature's antenna and ragged clothes, making his cape billow around him. Dark magenta eyes surveyed the ocean around it, eventually fixing upon a port off of an island in the middle of nowhere. "Hmph." And with that, the small, agile creature jumped from the top of the mast to the middle of the boat, only to scream hideously and jump onto a bench as it realized that the boat was flooding with water.

"OK, WHICH ONE OF YOU TOOK THE CORK OUT OF THE BOTTOM?!" For having such a dignified look on his face moments before, Zim had tossed it out in moments to shriek at his imaginary crew. He let one eye crack open slightly, and he realized that, once again, he was without his two normal companions. His eyes opened in some sort of stupefied shock, then narrowed in irritation. He grumbled, but not for long as he let out another hideous shriek as the water lapped up around his ankles and got INTO HIS BOOTS. He shook his boots around wildly in a painful flip-out, and it was only until he was up the mast that he figured out that TAKING HIS BOOTS OFF would be a good idea.

So that was what he did.

Sitting on the top of the one pitiful sail, Zim almost missed the three bodies hanging by ropes on the overpass. But he did get time to look around behind him and see the hanging sign with badly painted letters stating "PIRATES, YE BE WARNED", and a smaller text underneath that wrote "Ircens to", clearly by someone of a younger (or stupider) age. Zim sniffed in a dignified way as he emptied his boots and returned them to his feet. How dare ANYONE spell the name of HIS race incorrectly. He'd have them hanged. But he stood and gave a salute to the three Irkens hanging, and blowing in the now-dying wind, before returning his gaze to the port.

He was almost there…If his boat could just make it…

The Voot (what he had affectionately named his boat) slid right up against the dock, and Zim stepped off the mast and onto the dock, and left the thing mast-top deep in the water as he strutted along, clearly thinking himself important. Last minute, he reached around behind him and removed a hat and pair of contacts from his Pak and applied them. No one seemed to notice.

"Wait up a minute there, kid!"

Zim turned around aggressively to face the man who had stopped him. False indigo eyes scanned him up and down. Tall. Blond. Glasses (which indicated bad eyesight.) Friendly demeanor. Analysis: not a threat.

Under the hat, Zim cocked an antenna. "Yes? Hurry up, you're wasting my time, Hyuman-meat-thing."

The man grinned at him and kneeled over, which made Zim eager to punch his nose in (he resisted the urge, unfortunately). "I don't mean to be rude, but it's a shilling to tie your boat up at the dock. Also, I need your name before you can go into town. Regulations, you know? What can you do?"

Zim looked at the man with one eye open and the other mostly shut. He seemed hyuman enough. Hyumans all liked monies. He could solve this problem with it. He scratched the back of his head, the fabric of the bandanna keeping him from cutting the skin open. "Look, hyuman-thing…" Zim reached into his coat pocket and produced a few coins, holding them in his claw, palm open to the man. "Zi…I will give you three shillings, and your puny hyuman brain will forget that Zi…that I was even here, or that I had a name." Zim dropped the three shillings onto the open pages of the man's book and gave him a smile that looked like a zipper had pulled his mouth closed.

The man stared at the three shillings for a moment, as if unable to believe his luck, then gave Zim a huge grin and shut the book with a 'thump'. "Welcome to Port Royale, Mister…Smith." And with that, the man strutted away, probably to go heckle some other person tying their boat up.

Zim watched him leave, then walked forward, picked up the man's wallet, shook it, and smiled to himself.

Stupid hyumans.

~!~

Chokopoppo strikes again! Wow, quick updates for me. I'll bet you guys anything it was because of all the nice little reviews I got. They made me feel happy inside!

Well, know you know who Captain Jack Sparrow is! No one's gotten Captain Barbosa yet, though. Keep guessing, it makes me feel snuggly because, well, aaall will be reveeeeeaaaaled. Happy face.

So, yeah, not a lot happening in this chapter. I was all too ready to combine it with the next chapter, but I figured a quick update would be better than waiting for too long for a chapter just so that something cool would happen. Besides, you got your Zim. That's all you guys need, really! …Right? …Guys?

Alright, I promise to get the next chapter up by at least Sunday, hopefully before that. I'm really enjoying writing this, unlike all my other stories, which feel more like a second job. This has been what I've been doing for recreation. So…yeah! Sunday at least.

R&R?