"Hey dad?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think... about me being a paranormal investigator?"

Professor Membrane fell silent for a moment. Dib couldn't see his expression on the monitor from where he was sitting, but he imagined that he was probably frowning, as he usually did whenever Dib so much as mentioned anything paranormal.

"Dad?"

"Well… if you want my true opinion, I think it's ridiculous," he said, blunt and without much hesitation, as usual. "But, you are an adult now, and if it's what you want to do, then I can't stop you."

Dib's face lit up. He actually had his father's approval on something? "Really? So you don't mind?"

"I can't say that, but so long as you're going to school, then that's all that matters."

"Right… well, dad, I gotta go. I agreed to take Gaz to the mall today."

"Alright, be careful you two. Gaz, don't let your brother get into any trouble, you hear me?"

Gaz groaned loudly, slamming her GameSlave shut. "How come I always end up babysitting my older brother?"

Professor Membrane had already ended the call however, leaving the monitor blank. Figures.

"You don't have to babysit me, Gaz," Dib muttered flatly as he grabbed his car keys. "Hey, why are you going to the mall today anyway? You never leave the house."

"I need some new games," she replied idly. "And that's not true. You know how I got that job at the supermarket, right? I was saving up."

"You could've just asked dad for money."

"Yeah, but I like having a job. Keeps me out of the house and away from you. Speaking of that, can you take me to work tomorrow?"

Dib narrowed his eyes. "The grocery store is a five minute walk from our house!"

"It's hot. Besides, I doubt you're busy."

Dib opened his mouth to correct her, only to come to the sad realization that she was right. Damn. Maybe he did need a new hobby. Zim hadn't been seriously active in weeks.

"Alright, fine. But you're treating me to ice cream for all these rides. Gas isn't cheap, you know."

"Whatever."

"You know, you really shouldn't insult me and then ask for favors right after-"

"Drive, Dib."

"…"

He didn't want to risk making Gaz really angry. He did it once.

Never again.

The ride up was mostly silent. With Dib being focused on driving, Gaz had control of the radio, and she still had a bad habit of blaring her music. Since their father wasn't home much, Gaz had taken to playing her music in her room. Surprisingly, he and Gaz's music taste wasn't all that different, but Dib could hardly hear himself think over it, and he hoped and prayed to whatever gods were out there that this shopping trip wouldn't take long.

But, perhaps Dib could get something out of this too. He was in need of some new equipment that he might be able to find at the mall.

"Call me when you're done," Dib said, "we'll meet at the food court."

Gaz nodded, and with that, she disappeared into the dense crowd of people.

Dib started to search around for a nearby electronics store, but froze when he noticed a familiar green dog pushing past the crowds of people, bags upon bags of food and other various items in his tiny arms.

What the hell is Gir doing here?!

"Gir!" he called out. The little robot froze, searching for the source of the voice. He rushed over to where he was standing and grabbed his free hand, dragging him to the edge of the hall so that he wasn't blocking the way.

"Gir! What are you doing here?!"

Gir cocked his head to the side. "Who are you?"

"I'm Dib, remember? We've met. Zim's arch rival?"

"Ohhhh. You! You are an enemy of my master! You must be destroyed!" Gir prepared to remove his not-so-clever disguise, but Dib quickly shushed him.

"Gir, relax, I'm not here to hurt you or Zim! Calm down, you'll cause a scene!"

The robot instantly relaxed. "Ooohh, okay! Are you shoppin' too?! Lookie what I bought!" He proudly held up his bags full of seemingly random items for Dib to see.

"Yeah, that's great. Um… actually, there's something I was wondering. Is Zim… dead?"

"Noooope!"

Dib had to be careful with his words. He didn't know what Gir would say to Zim about this. "Okay. I guess that's good. Um… why hasn't he… done anything?"

"I don't know," Gir admitted. "Master has been sad lately, so I went shopping to cheer him up!"

"He's sad? Why?"

"I have no idea! But I hate seeing Master sad!"

An idea, a bright and bold and a damn good idea, suddenly struck Dib. "Gir, I think I can help Zim stop being sad. Will you let me come over later?"

"Mmm… okaaaay!"

Wow. That was easier than he'd expected.

"I'm hoooooooome!" Gir shouted to no one in particular, dropping his bags of items onto the table.

Zim's home had become all too familiar to Dib now. He knew this place like the back of his hand. But he also knew that if he tried to get into Zim's lab, he could easily end up getting himself captured, and that wasn't really on his agenda for today. This would be quick, in and out. Truth be told, he knew deep down that he shouldn't be this worried. He should be relieved, really damn relieved. But he wasn't. Zim not acting like himself was, for some reason, more alarming to him than anything else.

"Um, Gir, can you get him to come up here?"

Gir nodded his head, smiling sweetly, before drawing in a deep breath (strange, did robots need to breathe?) "MASTER! THERE'S A HUMAN HERE TO SEE YOU!"

"GIR! STOP LETTING HUMANS INTO OUR HOUSE! THAT'S THE THIRD TIME THIS WEEK!"

"BUT IT'S DIB, MASTER! HE SAYS HE CAN HELP YOU STOP BEING SAD!"

Dib groaned loudly. All of this yelling was sure to give him a headache. Was this really how they usually talked to each other?

A loud clanking noise sounded throughout the house as Zim came flying up out of the trashcan, landing almost effortlessly on his feet. He was without his disguise yet again, and appeared none too happy to see Dib. "Get out of my house, Dib-filth! What makes you think you can just waltz in here?!"

"Don't be like that, I practically live here. Besides, Gir invited me here. Didn't you Gir?" Dib asked, gesturing to the robot.

"Mmhm!" Gir called from the kitchen. "He's comin' to our party, Master!"

"Gir, we're not having a party!"

"Really?! Aww, but I bought all this stuff!"

"Look," Dib said, a more serious tone dripping into his voice, "something's clearly up with you. You might as well just tell me. I'll find out eventually."

"Nothing is 'up' with me, Dib," Zim corrected, saying his name as if he were in pain. "And even if there were something 'up', as you put it, I would never tell you. Ever!"

"Come on, Zim, really. Who else are you gonna tell, if not me?"

Zim's crimson eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Informing the enemy of any weaknesses of mine would basically be suicide. Do you think I'm a fool?"

"You really don't want me to answer that question."

"Get out Dib," Zim growled through clenched teeth, his tiny hands clenching into fists at his sides.

That look in his eyes, the one he had seen the last time he was over, it was back again. Dib threw his hands up in surrender. "I'll call a truce this time, alright? A truce, just long enough to fix whatever's wrong with you. Then we can go back to killing each other, if that's what you want."

Zim laughed dryly. "A truce? With my greatest enemy? Ha! I'd sooner die than work with a human!"

Dib shrugged. "Suit yourself, but it's looking like those are your only options."

"Wrong," Zim pulled out the same strange-looking gun that he had threatened him with earlier in the week, "there is a third option. I can decorate my living room with your entrails."

Seven years ago, Dib would have been afraid. He would have ran or begged for his life. But he knew better now. He knew Zim almost eerily well. And despite Zim's infamous unpredictability, he was about ninety five percent sure that he wouldn't dare to pull that trigger, lest he risk losing the greatest arch nemesis he ever had.

"Scary," he quipped with a small, nervous grin, "but not good enough, space boy. Try again."

"You dare challenge me?"

"I've been challenging you since day one."

Zim noticeably stiffened at that, the barrel of the gun falling from its spot against Dib's forehead. "Why do you want to help me?"

"Because it's weird when you're not trying to take over the world. Or trying to kill me. So that means something's up."

And once I figure out what, I'll find out whatever big plan you're trying to hide.

"Come on," Dib extended his hand. "A temporary truce. We've done it before."

Zim glanced back and forth between Dib's cautious smile and his offered hand. This wasn't the first time that Dib had proposed a truce, but usually it was under much different circumstances. This time, the Earth wasn't exactly in any imminent danger. There were no pressing, immediate circumstances. It was just him and Dib and this stupid planet. It could be a trap, but Zim usually saw Dib's traps coming a mile away. Besides, even if he did manage to get tricked, he'd find his way out, and get back at him tenfold. He'd make sure of that.

He wouldn't tell Dib everything, he wasn't a complete idiot. But he guessed that at this point, he didn't have much else to lose. Besides, having Dib on his side temporarily could potentially be useful in the future. But he was no fool. Truces between the two of them never lasted long.

"Very well," he finally said after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "But don't think that this means I trust you completely. Keep in mind, Dib-filth, that the information I am entrusting you with is top secret. If you betray our deal and tell anyone, I'll kill you without hesitation."

"Same goes for you," Dib fired back. "If you think I can trust you one hundred percent, then you're out of your mind. And this truce ends when I say, understand?"

"And why should I agree to that?"

"Because I don't want to do this anymore than you do. So we'll make this quick."

"…Fine."

Another awkward silence passed between them, thickening the tension in the air. Dib gestured down at his hand with his eyes, hoping that would be enough to tip the alien off.

"Why are you doing that thing with your eyes?"

Dib rolled his eyes. "God, Zim, my hand. It's a handshake. If we're doing this, we gotta shake on it."

"I'm well aware of what a handshake is. But you must have a terrible case of brain worms if you think I'm going to soil myself with your human germs-"

"Do it, or else it's not official."

Zim felt himself cringe internally. He would have to bathe in paste after this was over. If there was one thing he hated more than humans, it was being touched by a human. Actually, being touched by anything in general freaked him out.

Hesitantly, he slowly reached out and took Dib's hand within his own. Dib snorted as he tried (and failed) to conceal his laughter.

"What?!"

"Zim, you're not supposed to hold my hand."

Zim looked down at their interlaced fingers and quickly released his hand, turning away from him. "I did nothing of the sort."

"Here, it's like this." Dib reached for his hand, sliding his own alongside it so that it fit (almost) perfectly into place. "And then, we shake." He shook his arm once, firmly and sternly, before promptly releasing Zim's hand.

"…That was weird. I don't want to do that anymore."

"It was only weird 'cause you made it weird."

"No, you made it weird Dib-stink! Ugh… you already got what you wanted, now go away!"

"No can do." Dib plopped himself down on the couch. "Since we have a temporary truce, our houses are no longer off limits to each other."

"That was not part of the agreement!"

"It is now. Besides, I have to be here to help you, don't I?"

"I didn't ask you to help me, you know," Zim grumbled irritably.

"No, but you agreed to accept my help, and you shook on it, so there's no going back. So, sit your alien ass down here and tell me why you haven't tried to murder me yet." Dib patted the spot beside him, a snarky grin present on his face.

"My glorious alien ass will stay right here. And technically, I did try just a few moments ago."

"That wasn't really trying, since we both knew you weren't going to do it anyway. Besides, a gun to the head? Would it kill you to be a bit more original?"

"…Whatever, filthy human."

"Disgusting alien."

"Hideous ape!"

"Bug boy."

"You..!"

"Wanna keep going? I've got all day."

Fuming, Zim folded his arms over his chest and sat down on the couch, as far away from Dib as he could possibly be. Dib almost wanted to scoot closer to him just to really piss him off, but decided against it, figuring the small Irken was already embarrassed enough.

Well, he might as well get right to the point. He didn't really like beating around the bush, and he figured Zim didn't either. It was one of the very few things they had in common. "It's not uncommon for you to go into hiding for certain amounts of time to throw me off, but something about it seemed different this time."

Zim, who had been sitting with his cheek resting in the palm of his hand, turned slightly to look up at him, eyes widening with surprise. "…You really have been paying attention to me."

"Of course. You always know how to keep me on my toes, I'll give you that."

"I don't know what toes have to do with this."

"It's an expression. Now are you gonna tell me or not?"

Zim squirmed almost as if he were uncomfortable, struggling to decide what he should or shouldn't say. "My earth mission has been… compromised."

Dib raised a brow. "Duh, I've known about your 'mission' forever now."

"Not by you. I mean, it was… terminated. Technically. Sort of. Maybe."

"Terminated? You mean… like canceled, right?"

"No, not 'like canceled'! Just… postponed. Yes. Postponed. You see, Dib-filth, my Tallest, they…" he paused, the words seemingly getting stuck in his throat.

"Tallest? You mean your leaders, right? I've met them before. Speaking of which, why do you refer to them as 'tallest'? What does that even mean?"

"It's self-explanatory! The Tallest rule over Irk because they are the tallest!"

"So you mean… they were elected because they're tall?"

"Stupid Dib. Tallest leaders are not elected. They serve until they are either killed or are no longer the tallest Irkens alive."

Dib managed to keep a straight face for about three seconds before he suddenly burst into laughter, placing his hands on his knees to steady himself. "Zim… I'm sorry, but that… is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard."

"You dare insult my people?!"

"I'm s-sorry," Dib said between snorts. "It's just silly. And ridiculous. Height isn't what makes a leader a leader."

Dib had expected Zim to yell at him or to go on some long tangent, but surprisingly, the Irken merely slid off the couch, refusing to face Dib. "On Irk, height determines status. It is the way of the Irken race."

"You must not have had a very high status, then," Dib commented absentmindedly.

Zim visibly flinched at that, but did not respond.

Dib leaned forward, his arms resting on his legs. "Hey, is that what this is all about? I mean, you are almost pitifully small, but-"

Zim suddenly whipped around to face him, his antennae standing high at attention. "Silence! I don't need to hear that from a human!"

His scarlet eyes burned hot with fury and something else that Dib couldn't really define. Yet again, it was that same look he had seen when he came over the first time. "Zim…" he said, his voice holding an air of caution to it. "Is that why your mission got… um, postponed?"

Zim refused to answer him. The Tallest's taunting words still bounced around in his head, over and over and over again. He couldn't get them to go away. Thoughts, feelings... they were becoming more and more erratic and uncontrollable. And he was powerless to stop it.

Dib shrugged carelessly, rising to his feet. "If that's all this is, then it's really no big deal. It's not like these 'Tallest' guys were great leaders anyway-"

"Stop talking like you know me or my people!" Despite only reaching Dib's lower torso, Zim backed him up until he was against the door, his threatening glare keeping him pinned to the spot. "You know nothing of me or my Tallest, or of my home planet! I knew it, this was all just a ploy to get information out of me!"

That's only halfway true, Dib thought. "Look, Zim, we're... sort of friends, and it's obvious that it's bothering you, so just tell me! If you have no evil plan, I can't really use this information against you, can I?"

"Yes you can! You can expose me to all the other miserable humans-"

"I've tried," Dib replied with a disappointed huff. "Nobody believes me. I've contacted every government office and I have shown them irrefutable proof of your existence. No one took me seriously. Not anyone. I figured… that if nobody wanted to listen, then there was nothing I could do."

Zim blinked slowly. "Then why… did you keep fighting against me?"

Dib shrugged. "I dunno, to be honest. It seems to me that the human race is just begging to be destroyed. But… I guess I did it for Gaz and my dad, mostly. Cause I wanted them to have the chance to live. But even they think I'm insane. My sister couldn't care less, and my dad's never been around much, but when he is, all he does is tell me I'm crazy."

"…Oh. And… what of your mother unit?"

"You're asking about my mom?"

"N-Not because I care, but… if my research is correct, a human 'nuclear' family will consist of a mother, a father, and two children. Not that I would know, since Irkens can't have children-"

"Irkens can't reproduce?" Dib asked. The very thought of a species being unable to reproduce was alarming to him. And honestly… kind of sad.

"No, at least, not in the same way humans can."

"Then how-"

Zim sighed melodramatically. "DNA samples from male and female adult Irkens are cloned, mixed, and then put in a tube to incubate and grow for approximately-"

Dib held up a hand to stop him. "Yeah okay, I get the picture. So… you were never a kid?"

"Of course I was. But Irken children are not as weak and defenseless as human newborns. And biologically speaking, we do not stay children for long."

Dib's eyes lit up as if he had just made a new discovery. "Of course. You're from a militarized race, so you don't really have a need to be children and grow up."

Zim ignored Dib's (correct, admittedly) observation. "You didn't answer my question, Dib. What of your mother?"

Dib... didn't really like talking about his mother. It was just something that sort of went unspoken in his household. They had been raised without a mother, and they never knew what it was like to have two parents instead of one. As far as he knew, his father had never considered remarriage. The question inevitably came, however, in the first grade, when Dib was told to draw a picture of his family. The other children were confused, and asked him where his mother was. The teacher has scolded the children at the time, telling them that it wasn't polite to ask such a question. But Dib found himself growing curious as well, and when he came home that afternoon, he had asked his father about it.

"Hey Daddy, why don't I... have a mom?"

"Oh... mommy is, she's... she's not around... anymore."

Eventually, once both Dib and Gaz were old enough to hear it, he'd told them the truth.

"Your mother... died in a car accident, not long after Gaz was born."

"She's dead," he mumbled. "I didn't really get to know her. She died when Gaz was a baby. At least, that's what dad said, anyway."

Zim fell silent for a few moments, and Dib really wished he would say something soon. He never liked mentioning his mother, and whenever it came up, he always tried to find an excuse to change the topic quickly.

Because all his life, he had found that avoiding the problem was better than fixing it, after all.

"Oh."

"What?"

"I'm just surprised that you told me, that's all."

Dib suddenly looked down at the floor. "Yeah, well, it's only fair I guess, since you told me some stuff about Irk."

"...What's happened to you, Dib? Since when do you ever play fair?" Zim asked, a slight teasing hint to his voice.

Dib snickered in response. "I could ask you the same question."

"Zim doesn't need to play fair. I make my own rules."

"Yeah. You always have. And it was a pain in the ass."

"So long as I am causing you some sort of discomfort."

He couldn't help but laugh at that. "Look," he said, louder to get his attention, "I don't really know exactly what's bothering you, but if it's what I think it is, then you really shouldn't worry about it. If anything, it just means that you're free now. You can do what you want."

"You don't understand," Zim said, his antennae lowering and flattening against his head. "Irkens don't... live freely. Not like you stupid humans do. We need someone to command us."

"The Tallest seem to do whatever they want," Dib pointed out.

"That is because they are the tallest. But for sma- er, vertically challenged Irkens like myself, we don't live that way. We can't."

"But you can. If your mission's been terminated-"

"Then what?! You thought I would just stop?!" The long, spindly metal legs from his PAK shot out of either side, lifting him up so he was eye-to-eye with Dib. "You do remember, Dib, that this is a temporary truce, correct? That as soon as either of us says the word, the deal is off?"

"Wrong, I'm in control of this deal. You agreed to that. You can't try to kill me until I say so. So answer me, Zim, what's the point if your so-called "tallest" have terminated your mission?"

"If… If the Tallest do not wish for me to be at their service any longer, then very well. But you misunderstand me, Dib. If you thought that I would suddenly grow weak like you dimwitted humans, then you are sorely mistaken. I am still an Irken soldier, and if the Tallest will not give me orders, then I will follow every Irken's basic instinct: invade. Conquer."

Dib felt himself tense as the truth of the situation began to unravel in front of him. "Come on Zim, it doesn't have to be like that! If there's no mission then there's no point! That's what you said, right? That Irkens can't live without orders?"

"The Tallest have deemed me a defective, so I no longer have to take orders from them, Dib-stink. There is no one else left with the authority to boss me around! And so-"

"Wait," Dib interrupted, "they said you were defective?"

Zim snorted. "Please, don't think that you've discovered a weakness just because my PAK-"

"No, it's not that, it's just… how can you call a person defective?"

A/N: Before anyone says it, I know that it was supposed to be revealed that Dib was a clone of his father. Give it time. ;)