Chapter 4
"It's so nice to hear the pitter-patter of little feet around the house again." Keef's mother gushed across the table at Zim, a smeet hanging from each arm, three clutching her legs, one swinging from her hair.
Zim snorted. "Craziness runs in the family, I see." The comment went unnoticed by the doting woman.
"I mean - that adorable way they just wolfed down their food like itty bitty cutesy, wootesy little trash compactors." She caught the nearest smeet by the cheeks and pinched for all she was worth. "I love them! I love them all! I could just eat them up! Crunch up their little bones between my teeth and slurp up all their entrails!"
The smeet shrieked and dove onto Zim's lap, where it lay curled up and shivering.
"Yes, little one." Said Zim consolingly. "I'm scared too."
Keef's mother grinned charmingly around the table.
"More pie, Mr. Moose?"
"Squeeek!" Said Minimoose. The hostess put another piece onto his plate.
Most of the smeets had been assigned to eat at various TV-tray stations both in the kitchen and in the living room, but they'd all finished early enough to begin trashing Keef's house before Zim could finish eating and stop them.
They had dinner at Keef's house at least once a month, but there were always new things for the smeets to tinker with because after each visit Keef's mother was forced to replace the furniture and/or appliances that they'd destroyed. The resulting debt had caused the woman to take out another mortgage on the house, but oddly her only concern whenever they came over was whether or not they would like her cooking. A bit of craziness indeed ran in the family.
"I was telling Keef the last time he had dinner at home that he needs to settle down and get a nice girlfriend – "
"Oh, Mom!"
"-Good grief, that must have been sometime last week – he spends so much time over at your house. Not that that's a bad thing. I'm so glad that Keef finally has a good friend – you know for the longest time we thought he was, well, just sort of. . .defective was the word Grampa used, but I told Grampa – 'now our little Keefy just has a bit of trouble making friends. Nobody ever said he had to be a social butterfly.' But now he's twenty years old and he's never even had a girlfriend and I, well, I want to hear the pitter patter of little feet around the house someday – "
"I'm only twenty!"
"And the family thinks he might be turning out, you know, weird. But I tell them that's not really that weird. I don't know. Do you think that's weird, Zim?"
"Huh?" Said Zim, lifting his attention away from his third piece of pie. It was pretty good – as is should be for the amount of meticulous work his hostess had put into it.
"Not having had a girlfriend ever. I mean, everyone's had a girlfriend or a boyfriend by now. It's just unnatural. It's kinda weird."
Zim shrugged. "Whatever. That's just one more thing I DON'T HAVE TIME to worry about."
There was a tremendous crash in the next room, then the sound of breaking glass and glooshing water as one of Keef's mom's fishtanks was knocked over.
"HEHEHEHEHEEEE!!!! We're all going to be electrocuted!" Screamed Gir.
Zim gulped down the last piece of his pie and got up.
"ALLRIGHT, SOLDIERS!!! Recreation time over!! Fall in!!" Storming into the living room, Zim pulled out the cattle prod that was the only thing that helped since they'd all gotten entirely too good at de-activating control collars, and proceeded to round up his horrible offspring.
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"Personal log. About 7:30pm. I'm outside Keef's mom's house, watching through the living room window. Zim's kids are brats. Two minutes alone and they've caused at least a thousand dollars worth of damage."
Dib opened the window a bit so he could sneak his hand inside and wipe away some of the apple pie that one of the smeets had flung recklessly. Licking his fingers clean, he found that the pie was actually very good. He snuck his hand inside for more, giving him something else to do while he watched Zim run the room madly, directing his kids in the cleanup of the colossal mess they'd made while he was in the other room eating. With seventeen of them going at a time, it was actually moving pretty quickly. They'd already gathered all the spilled fish into auxiliary tanks and sucked most of the water off the floor using some sort of vacuum attachment that their little robot apparently had installed in its legs.
Suddenly, Dib realized that there were two other heads beside his, peering into the window alongside him. How long they'd been there he didn't know – their approach had gone completely unnoticed.
"Aw, man. Our Dad's, like, some creepy stalker or something." One of them said.
"Hey - ! I, ah, know how this looks, but –" Dib started, for the first time realizing how this actually would look to someone else. "I, ah, just want to talk to your Mom."
"Then why don't you use the front door?"
"Are you kidding? You Mom'd kill me if I just, y'know, walked up and asked to talk like some. . .normal person."
"Well how do you expect to talk to Mom if you're sitting out here?"
"I, ah. . .hadn't really thought of that." He was just. . .waiting, watching, like he'd done back when he was a kid. It just seemed so natural, so familiar that it had become almost nostalgic.
"O-kaay."
"Shhh – I think Mom's onto us." Said the other smeet. They both ducked down into the bushes.
Looking back up through the window, Dib saw Zim up on his spider legs, head turning madly in an effort to observe all of his kids. His brow was furrowed with suspicion – there were only fifteen in the room and over the years he'd probably gotten pretty good at counting to seventeen.
"Vinn? Prad?" Called out Zim.
Behind Dib, the bushes rustled again as the smeets made their exit. Zim zeroed in on the movement like a hawk. Dib ducked just in time for the window to come flying open as Zim leapt out in hot pursuit of the errant smeets.
There was a rustle and the sharp buzz of a cattle prod.
"Ow! Ow!!."
"Reprimands class 3a for both of you!"
"Oh no, not the box!" One smeet moaned.
"Come on, Mom – we didn't make that mess! It was all Wenn and Spoot –"
"Objection duly ignored. Now get in there and help with the water pickup. INCOMING!!!"
Dib heard Zim make a great heave, and overhead the two smeets sailed through the air into the open window.
Brushing off his hands, Zim stepped through the hedge towards the windowsill, presumably to pull himself up and make a more dignified entrance.
Impulsively, Dib grabbed his arm, seizing this chance before it slipped away.
"Zim!"
"Dib! What is the meaning of this GRABBING? Let go of me! Now!"
Dib let go of Zim's arm, but stepped over so that he was in between Zim and the window.
"Zim – wait. Don't go. Please, just stay for a minute!"
Zim rose on his spider legs and scuttled to and fro, looking for the opportunity to jump into the window, but Dib nudged it closed, and when he looked as thought Zim was willing to leap through the glass, he stretched his arms out and effectively blocked it.
"Why in the name of all that's stinky would I stay for any length of time in. . .your. . .hideous. . .presence. GETOUTOFTHEWAY!!!"
When it was clear that Dib wouldn't, Zim made a dash away towards the front door, but Dib was able to grab one of his spider legs and bring him crashing to the ground. With his grip still on the leg, Dib crawled forward until he could reach Zim's arms, and pinned him to the ground.
"Please! Just five minutes! I only wanna to talk – then I'll go away, I promise!"
Zim gritted his teeth. "You're staining my dress, Dib-filth." He growled.
"Five. Minutes." Repeated Dib.
Zim scowled. "Then you'll go away?"
Dib nodded. "I swear."
Making a visible effort to calm himself, Zim lifted his chin. "Fine." He said.
As soon as Dib released his arms, Zim scuttled away from the human as fast as he could, but didn't retreat entirely. He stood up a few meters away from where Dib sat, pulling one of the com-pads from his belt to note the time.
"You've got four minutes fifty-one seconds, earth-stink." Stated Zim coldly while he brushed the dirt from his dress.
Dib crossed his legs, staying low to the ground in hopes of avoiding the gaze of the smeets in the house behind him, and also in the hope that Zim wouldn't be as intimidated by him as he might be if he were standing. Dib had over doubled his size since he'd met Zim way back in the day, but Zim was still. . .pretty short.
The blood was still pounding in Dib's ears from their little tussle – both because of the physical exertion and. . .other factors that seemed to be in operation whenever he got close to the small alien.
"I just want to, you know, talk with you. I was wondering if. . ." Suddenly feeling unsure of himself, Dib absently poked his finger into the dirt. "Well, I was wondering how you've been doing, these past few years. One of your kids on the way here said that you were tired, and strained."
"NONSENSE!! I am ZIM!! I have the energy of a THOUSAND. . . strained. . .things!" Zim declared. He crossed his arms and looked over at the window, where their offspring could be seen bouncing around the room with limitless vigor.
"My spawn can by a little. . .enthusiastic, but that's only fitting for soldiers of their age and class, born into the rank of invader. I couldn't have asked for more competent soldiers to carry on my INCREDIBLE genes. Supervision of their progress has been nothing less than a privilege." Zim pursed his lips. "With Keef's help I'm only actually required to oversee them twenty three hours out of twenty four. A trifle, really."
Dib nodded, a frown creeping onto his features. "Yeah. . .about that. I was sort of wondering. . .what's the deal with Keef? You'd do anything to keep him away when we were in grade skool. . .why let him hang around now? He's such a. . .weirdo."
Zim shrugged. "Unh-un. He isn't annoying as he was when he was younger – at least when he has something to do that shuts him up. To tell the truth, he just sort of. . .won't go away." He shrugged again.
"Watch this." Zim picked up a clod of dirt from the ground.
"Hey Keef!!!"
A short moment later Keef stuck his head out from the bathroom window on the second floor, looking around for Zim.
"Yeah, Zim?"
Zim flung the clod of dirt right into Keef's face.
"Ow!" Keef wiped off his face and looked down to where Zim was standing. "Hey, Zim – what was that for?"
"I dunno. I felt like it."
"Oh. Okay." Keef went back into the house.
Zim picked up another clump of dirt.
"Hey Keef!!"
"Yeah, Zim?" Keef poked his head out again.
Another clod of dirt, right in the kisser.
"Ow! Hey, why'd you do that?"
"I told you – I just sorta felt like it."
"Oh. Okay, then." Keef withdrew mildly.
Zim picked up another clump of dirt.
"Hey Keef!!"
Dib snickered and put his hand on Zim's arm.
"Okay – I get it. That's probably enough."
"Yeah, Zim?" Keef smiled down perkily towards Zim.
Rolling his eyes at Dib, Zim dropped the clump of dirt.
"Nothing. Go back inside and. . .help pick up glass."
Keef gave him a thumbs-up. "Sure thing, buddy. Hi, Dib!"
Brushing away Dib's hand, Zim shook his head.
"See what I mean?"
"Yeah. That's pretty weird." Dib sat back in the dirt. "But, I guess if he helps around the house and stuff, it's not too bad. It's good to hear that, you know, the kids aren't too much work."
Zim crossed his arms. "Hmmph. Your pitiful species doesn't understand the meaning of WORK."
Dib lifted his chin. This was bringing back some memories. "Oh yeah? Well at least my species isn't trying to forcibly enslave entire universe."
Zim sneered. "Your species hasn't even found the universe yet!"
"You just wait, Zim – someday you're going to get yourself strapped down to an autopsy table, and then we'll see whose species is better." Dib smiled smugly.
"When the armada comes, this planet will be turned into a giant coat-check stand, and all of it's inhabitants will be nothing but tall, drooling coat-lot attendants."
"Better tall and drooling than short and. . .short."
"I'm not as short as your head is BIG!!!"
"Hey!!! I grew into my head!!"
"Says you!"
"That's right! Says me!!" Even Zim seemed to be enjoying himself. They were screaming insults so close into each other's faces that their foreheads were nearly touching.
"Green-skinned, war-mongering maniac!!"
"Stupid, squishy water-filled bag of inferiorness!!!"
A sudden unrestrainable impulse drove Dib to wrape one hand around the back of Zim's head and the other around his torso, drawing him forward that last few inches for their lips to meet.
Ah. That's what Dib had been looking for, that implacable desire that had dogged him since his first glimpse, no, the first thought of Zim that he'd allowed himself after so many years. Just that thought might have driven him out of his mind, but he'd been able to contain it, until just this moment.
Zim. . .
Dib let his hands roam across Zim's back, around his waist, up to caress the soft skin on the back of his neck. He closed his eyes to savor the taste. . .
Zim stood very still. When Dib opened his eyes, their lips still met softly. Zim stared him in the eye, expressionless.
"Zim. . ." Said Dib, finally. A rush of emotion overtook him and he lapsed into his old melodramatic speech pattern. He threw his arms around Zim. "My life is meaningless without you, Zim! I want us to be enemies again. No, I want us to be more than enemies. . .I want. . .I want to stop skulking around in windows. Following you like an animal. I want you to be you again, and me to be me again! I want us to be. . ." Dib tried to kiss him again, but Zim pulled his head aside at the last possible moment one of the smeets called out from inside the house.
"Mo-om!! Prad's making another mess!"
"Stay calm! Supervision will arrive shortly!!" Zim called out.
Slipping from Dib's grasp before he could react, Zim vaulted himself onto the windowsill.
Stumbling desperately after him, Dib reached the window just in time for Zim to slam it closed onto his already damaged head.
For the third time in the day, Dib was abruptly plunged into blackness.