TREMBLE FOR ME
02. Definitions of Appropriate Interaction
Gaz stared at her mirror in frustration, they'd never really decided on a set time. Because of that Gaz had gotten ready just after dinner. Except that she wasn't ready, not ready at all. She'd gone through five different outfits. Zim was not worth that kind of effort. It was just an old crush that managed to pull on some nostalgic sentimentality…
Gaz barely even admitted to herself that she had a crush on the alien the first night they'd met. That parent-teacher conference had started off badly. Not only had Gaz been embarrassed by her father, but also her teacher, and her brother. Yet somehow, even though she was in a bad mood, Zim had managed to elicit two chuckles. She'd never been so instantly… attracted to someone before or after. It wasn't that Gaz couldn't appreciate a good looking guy, but Zim didn't ever fit into normal standards of attractiveness. It had worn off, thankfully, only a couple weeks later, after Gaz had beaten Zim in some online game; which may have actually been one of the alien's first attempts to destroy her brother. But there were still moments when Zim did something that made her heart skip a beat.
A lustful shudder was considerably more than the usual brief and fleeting hint at attraction.
Gaz looked at herself in the mirror once more. She rarely ever wore skirts, and this was a particularly short one. Gaz was conflicted. No one, especially not Zim, should see her legs. However there was no way she was going to avoid wearing what she wanted to around Zim. It wasn't like Zim was actually attracted to a pale little human girl. Gaz knew enough of Irken anatomy to know that the reproductive system was long gone. Zim was the one male that would be completely unaffected by her choice of clothes. It made no sense that she'd be making a big deal out of it. Zim might not even show up.
The doorbell rang, and Gaz knew she was out of time to fight herself on the clothing choice. Gaz opened the door, discovering that her own choice of clothes was completely negligible. "What are you wearing?" Gaz asked.
Zim looked at his clothes, Gaz was protesting to a tuxedo… According to Zim's research it was the most common form of date-wear in movies romance movies depicting humans of a Hi-Skool age.
Gaz let out a growl of frustration at his clueless expression. They were only going to a movie, and Zim looked like he was ready for the freaking prom. It was like life had crept up out of the woodwork with a reality check. Zim was hopeless. Gaz slid close to him to rectify the situation. The first thing she did was ditch the bow tie, tossing the infuriating strip of cloth into the bushes. Then she peeled back Zim's jacket, tossing it over her arm while she unbuttoned the vest.
"Zim did not realize that date-clothes worked so effectively," Zim gave the Irken equivalent of a raised eyebrow.
Gaz clamped one hand over his mouth to stop him from speaking as she fiddled with jacket and button combinations. Her fingers smelled like Earth fruit… Zim took an experimental lick. Chemicals, but Gaz trembled slightly and drew back.
Zim cracked a toothy smile, "No Zim," Gaz said angrily, "that tremble was disgust. Don't lick me." Zim opened his mouth but Gaz cut him off, "Plenty of humans are just as disgusting as you, if not more so."
Zim sunk, and Gaz looked at her adjustment to his clothes. Now he just looked like he was some desk jockey who just got off work. It was still not entirely appropriate to be seen next to a teenage girl showing a little too much skin, but it was better than before. "You still look like a dork, but I'm not missing the movie because of it," Gaz said as she finished off by taking off Zim's gloves.
Zim went momentarily rigid at the action, but Gaz ignored the alien-boy's eccentricities.
"Get in your car," Gaz commanded, finally pushing him down the walkway after a minute of him staring at his bare three fingered hands.
Zim silently obeyed. His fingers itched without gloves. Irkens did not normally expose their digits beyond personal grooming. Gaz climbed into the vehicle next to him, and without another word Zim drove to the local movie theater where Zombie Apocalypse Thirteen was playing. Zim paid for the tickets, and for ample portions of popcorn and slushy that Gaz then made him carry to their seats. Eventually she gave the command, "Sit down, Zim," but otherwise their date began without any more conversation.
Zim felt disgusting, his fingers had gotten a mild coating from carrying the earth food. Without any cleansing chuck to relieve the irritation his hands simply wouldn't stop fidgeting. His wiggling gradually expanded onto the arm of chair, and onto a something. It was soft, and covered in tiny little hairs, and flinched as he first touched it, then after a moment it relaxed to his searching fingers. Zim realized that it was Gaz's hand. Soft flesh, delicate skin, smooth fingernails, Zim didn't realize that the human hand was such an interesting little feature to touch. Then again he'd never touch one with his bare hand willingly. Zim glanced at the screen lit figure next to him, Gaz did not seem to be bothered by it. The flickering reflected light did little to expose the extra hint of color on her cheeks. Then Zim considered her attire for a moment, it was obviously an important feature of the dating experience, and Gaz did not typically wear skirts…
What did the earth girls' legs feel like?
The moment Zim switched his focus Gaz flinched, the sound of her hand colliding with his cheek momentarily overpowered the movie. Clearly her legs were out of bounds, and since her hand had disappeared from the partition between chairs, he was not allowed that anymore either. Zim felt an odd pang of disappointment, and went back to fidgeting.
Then, after a minute, Gaz slowly crossed the barrier between them, resting her hand in his open palms. Zim gently stroked the gift, exploring every crease and wrinkle of the human feature.
Suddenly the movie ended. Zim was certain that it was much too short. Gaz and her hand pulled away, heading out of the theater with Zim trailing uselessly behind. Zim watched her fingers longingly as they walked in awkward silence. Could he ask? Little-Gaz, might Zim continue with the touching of your hand? It seemed like a very bad idea if he wanted to keep his bruising to a minimum.
"I'm going to have to see that movie again without you," Gaz's voice cut into Zim's thoughts.
Zim blinked, "Why is that?"
"I don't think anyone could concentrate if they were sitting next to you, Mr. Curious Fingers. You probably know the back of my hand better than I do."
"And that's bad…" Zim tried to confirm.
"Not exactly," Gaz said, then paused for a moment. "Look, we're both here for the same reason, Zim. You're here to prove your superiority. I'm here to prove mine. I'm above being attracted to you, Zim, which means your little quirks, annoy me. And you already know what I do to people when they annoy me."
"Zim thought it was desirable to excite the reproductive system."
Gaz turned back at him, "Not in my opinion."
"But, if you did not want me to excite your reproductive system then why did you agree to go out with me?"
"Stop saying reproductive system."
"That wasn't an answer, and why shouldn't Zim say," Gaz glared, "those… two words… that you told Zim not to say…"
"For me this is an exercise in desensitizing, I get used to you so you can't make me look stupid. As for those two words, there's such a thing as context Zim. I know what you're talking about, you don't have to remind me. All these people do not need to know, it's exactly the same reason that you insisted on dragging me to your house the other day. You don't want people knowing about your skin condition. I don't want people knowing about how much I want to kick your ass right now."
Zim's eyes widened, "Zim will… be more discreet."
"Good plan," Gaz let out a dark smile, then watched the alien boy staring at her hand. With a sigh, Gaz uncrossed her arms and stretched her hand away from her body. Zim was almost giddy when he grabbed the hand, until he got a punch to the shoulder, but Gaz's hand remained in his, and he gently explored it as they walked to the car-ship.
The drive was once more silent, but it was a more pleasant silence then the awkward drive to the theater. Zim pulled to a stop in front of the electric fence of the Membrane house, "This is the typical moment for the goodnight… kiss… correct?"
"No," Gaz said, stepping out of the vehicle. Gaz paused momentarily, then whirled back towards Zim decidedly, "Next Friday we'll go roller blading. I'll come to your house after school."
"Oh, okay," Zim brightened, "goodnight love-pig."
"I'm not a pig," Gaz snapped back before walking away. She opened the door and slammed it shut behind her just as quickly, anything to get walls between herself and the lingering Irken. Why did he have to linger at the end of her driveway anyway? Gaz peeked out a nearest window and watched the car disappear, proof that Zim wasn't playing with any stupid ideas.
"I'm home," Gaz called into her father's basement lab as she headed for the stairs.
"How was your date?" he called back.
"It was… nice," Gaz struggled with the word. She didn't want it to be nice. She wanted it to be horrible so that her stupid little crush would go away permanently.
If Dib ever found out he'd throw a fit. Gaz cracked a smile at that thought. If he ever did find out, or if anyone asked why she was dating Zim, she'd say it was to piss Dib off.
End Mission Log
A/N: Out of all the chapters, this is one that I really enjoyed writing, Zim's curiosity coupled with Gaz unwitting tapping into something fundamental in Zim's psychology. In the original outline it was dinner and a movie, but that was also too much interaction for Gaz to handle at this point.
