AN: More swearing from Tak. I dunno why, it seems to fit her - you KNOW that if Invader Zim didn't air on Nick, Tak would cuss. Think about it. (I'm so close to finishing the ten themes in two days. I really hope I do so I can look back on my work fondly when my friends whine there's no KeefTak in the world. XD)
I do not own anything, this disclaimer goes for all chapters, if you don't like it then bite me, I'm too tired to care.
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It was hard to believe, but Tak had actually gotten attached to Keef.
All her life, she'd wanted to be treated like the Tallest. She wanted to have power, to be waited on and looked up to. All those years as a lowly worker on planet Dirt had tarnished her, left her mind haunted by the memories of being nothing. When she returned to Earth, she took a powerful man as her father, and now she was finally treated with dignity. Not power, not adoration, but she was respected as a person. The closest she had to what she really wanted was Keef.
He became enchanted with her after she took pity and fed the poor, ugly boy who turned up on her doorstep. He became her self proclaimed best friend when she let him stay the night on her couch. He became her boyfriend when she indulged in that 'hand holding' thing humans found so wonderful. In mere moments, with no effort or mind control, Keef became her willing servant. If Tak wanted him to do something, he did it without question. All without asking for pay, without asking for anything other than to be close to her as often as possible. It was all she'd ever wanted: a slave.
Yet as time passed, she began to grow fond of him. His incessant, psychotic happiness scared off the more annoying humans. His red hair made him easy to track. His constant chattering meant she did have to talk, yet looked as if she had a friend. Keef was an absolute moron. That was why he was so perfect for this role. Zim had been a fool to cast him aside, when he was so utterly useful. Every day, he became a more integrated part of her cover story, and there was a certain kind of gratefulness she felt towards him that threatened to become outright friendship.
She wasn't sure when she crossed the line between master and friend, but one day she realized something: she didn't need him, but she wanted him. He was not needed to keep the mission afloat. He was an interesting accessory, a filler of gaps in her normality. Yet if she'd wanted, he could have been gone in a heartbeat. There was no need to have him over constantly, every Friday for ice cream and every Monday for TV. She just plain wanted to have him around. She wanted the company, wanted the chatter and stupidity. Her complaints and name calling slowed as time went on and she adjusted to the waves of dumbness. Tak even found herself calling him for no reason, just because she was bored and it was Thursday. She was, horror of horrors, his friend.
He really complimented her, in a way. She was Yin, soft and dark and complex. He was Yang, bright and rough and simple. She was always coming up with something to do, some new aspect of Earth culture to study. Her plan was to submit to the Tallest lists of Earthling entertainment venues, to be promptly exported and exploited for the Irken Empire. She could have left Keef behind. Yet his idiot's perception of things was just what she needed. His happy go lucky attitude was the perfect accompaniment for her own solemn state of mind. He spoke a lot and the words held no meaning. She was to the point in her comments. For all her bragging of Irken superiority, she needed help in socialization, as Irkens had little. He was her foil. Two halves of the same whole, one loving the other and the other hating love. How the hell they ever ended up like this, she didn't know. It never struck her as odd, though, to find that someone. How many Invaders had mentioned someone else completing them, if only for a day? It made sense she'd find that person eventually.
Keef always knew what she wanted. When it was ice cream night, he brought her strawberries. When it was late at night, he brought her pillows. In the morning, a platter of waffles would await her. At lunch, he got her a place to sit. He knew her favorite colors (blue, purple, red), her favorite places (the library, the theatre, the park) and her favorite words (bloody, skuwish'd, fool). He knew she had insomnia and often 'slept' restlessly, turning over for hours on end. He knew she could make her eyes sparkle and he'd feel so happy it didn't matter how much she made him forget about his life. He knew she was a lady, and treated her like one. It was the kind of mind reading, sentence finishing bond Tak never knew she could have. She wasn't sure whether to be scared or thrilled, honestly.
"Keef-monkey," she called into the kitchen, "Bring me the-"
"Hot sauce?" he asked, handing it to her. "I knew you were out, so I got some."
God damm, it was even the right brand and flavor.
"You know, you're really fucked up sometimes," the purple haired girl told him, and then she smiled. "I'm rather fond of it."
