Disclaimer: I don't own Invader Zim.

She knew he was waiting. She didn't care.

She had just finished sliding the deadbolt lock into place on the front door. She had given a little sigh at the wonderful click and had turned on her heel and looked at the floor just in time to avoid meeting his eye.

"And just where have you been?" asked Dib, his voice shrill.

"As if it were your business," mumbled Gaz, stepping to one side.

Dib shuffled to keep his position in front of her.

"Don't think I don't know, Gaz. Just because I'm asking doesn't mean I don't already know the answer. You were with Zim. You were with the alien!"

Gaz stopped. She looked Dib full in the face. She smiled.

What a smile! Growing, enveloping, destroying – as if Zim weren't the invader here; as if she had something in store for the planet; as if raw emotions were her armies; as if glee were her weapon! Dib felt vaguely that the face could not be human, because it was so far outside normal experience – but then what did he know? He preferred his t-shirt. Bland.

"You win a prize," said Gaz.

"Why?" said Dib.

"Because you guessed right," explained Gaz, as she moved away again.

"No!" Dib grabbed at her wrist. "Why were you with him?"

"What do you care? Lemme go."

"But" – Dib held her even tighter – "he's an alien."

"Yeah. You've said that."

"He wants to take over the world!"

"Thanks for the update."

"He's dangerous."

Gaz finally managed to twist her arm free.

"Please. Have you seen him? If he were dangerous, he'd have done some damage by now, right?"

"Yeah, but" – Dib racked his brain. "He flooded the town! He sent our class into a wormhole!"

Gaz raised one eyebrow.

"Well, you should know, Gaz, that I'm not going to let this happen."

"Let what happen?"

"Let, um, you two . . . hang out . . . and . . . bad stuff. Definitely no bad stuff."

"You can try," said Gaz. "But I'd be careful if I were you. Maybe one day, I'll be so happy that you're protecting me that I'll ask you for a hug." She grinned. "And I'll take you and squeeze you so hard that your brain will burst out of your skull."

Dib's eyes followed her silently as she made her way out of the room.

"That's just so you know," she called back. She trotted to her room, where the Game Slave was waiting.

"Foolish Dib." He turned at the voice – an alien voice. "You should know better than to discourage her."

"Dammit, Zim," yelled Dib. He raised a fist at the television. "Get out of our TV!"

"Of course, of course, Earth-monkey. You'll have your precious video box. Just don't forget that I'm watching. And I'm smart. Yes, very smart. And dangerous."

"And maple-y syrupy yummity yum," came a small voice from the background.

"GIR," said Zim, but Dib didn't get to hear the end of the admonishment, for the transmission had ceased.

"And stay away from my sister," added Dib. It was a half-hearted afterthought.