We be the ones to make it hot.

Electric shot, energy like a billion watts.

Galactic call me Mr. Spock.

He was gasping as he ran his hands over her body, their fronts all but molded into one another. Her own hands were in his hair, trying to figure out the natural fixation she had with his head. Their mouths were locked in a heated battle for dominance as their tongues fought like a pack of wild dogs over the first scrap of meat in days.

She grunted pleasurably and he lifted her up onto a desk in the storage closet and proceeded to move his mouth from hers to her neck, where he quickly began to suck and bite all the way down and then all the way back up. Her eyes flew open in half-aware pleasure at the sensation while her own hands slid down his chest and began to fiddle with his pants.

They were halfway undressed within the first minute and by the time he had fully explored her neck and shoulders they had removed any articles of clothing that would inhibit them from any of the more reckless positions.

"Do it. Now."

Zim froze.

"Do it! Do it now!" The Irken sergeant screamed as the small group of children lay in a straight line in the snow, their light machine guns pointed down-range. Across the field, painted in white, lay their targets.

"Do it. Now!"

Gun fire exploded in static bursts as the white painted bodies were covered in red.

"Zim?" Gaz demanded, breathless, as she looked at the frozen face inches from her own.

"Get dressed." Zim said simply as he turned away from her—still fully erect—and began to gather his clothes and smooth out his hair.

W-what?

"Why?" Gaz said, her voice shaking as she glared at the back of the man she had looked to in her dark hour. She had needed him damn it!

"Why what?" Zim demanded, his eyes looking haunted, but she didn't care.

"Why will no one love me?!" She demanded as her walls shattered into dust and the flood waters came. Her still all but naked form slid from the table to the floor as she sobbed; her eyes flickering from the nearly redressed Zim, to the clothes that covered her innocence, and then ultimately to the floor.

Zim had never been an emotional person; not once in the past seventeen years. He had never cared for anyone, only his drugs and the escape they offered. Yet for some reason he found himself cradling an all but stark naked Gazelene Membrane in an effort to comfort her.

That was the first time he had ever held her.