"Grah! Couldn't Dib have bothered to take this thing out for a spin every once in a while?"

Zim grumbled in frustration, wiping at the copious amounts of dust and grime coating the mechanical elements of the Voot. Not only had it been sat neglected all this time, rendering it quite inoperable, but it was filthy!

"How is there even this much dust down here anyway- we're airtight!" he shouted, tossing his spent cloth into the steadily growing pile in the corner.

The alien rubbed viciously at this eyes, willing away the burn of fatigue as soft footfalls approached him. Gir strutted toward him, keeping a smile on his face despite saying nothing. A large toolbox rested high above his head, nestled securely in the robot's small hands.

"Great," Zim said, releasing a breath, "now, do you think you could try and turn this thing on?"

Tongue popping out of his mouth, the SIR nodded rapidly. The sudden movements caused the weight he was carrying to shift, effectively sending him to the floor on the box tipped over. A series of high pitched giggles poured out of the little robots mouth as he shot back up and ran into the cockpit.

"Now remember, the ignition is a little fidgety, so-"

Before he could finish speaking, the Voot sputtered and screamed to life- literally; the soft purr turning into a hellish screech from deep inside the mechanism. The sound was amplified by his sensitive antennae and he shrunk back. Okay...so maybe a few rusty bearings. He could deal with that- wait, what was that clicking?

*POOF*

"Ahh!" Zim yelled as the inner workings suddenly burst into flames.

Hearing his master's exclamation, Gir popped his head out from the driver's seat and let out a yell of his own. He hopped out, opening the top of his head to douse the small flame with a white, powdery substance. In a matter of seconds, the fire erupted into a significantly larger blaze.

"AHH!" they both shouted.

Alarmed by the disturbance, a set of large hoses dropped down from the ceiling above them as the Computer's deep voice filled the room.

"WARNING: FIRE DETECTED. WARNING: FIRE DETECTED."

The hoses whipped around wildly above their heads, powerful streams of thick foam coating the exposed surfaces of the hangar and successfully smothering the flames until only a foul smelling smoke remained.

"Woo! Let's go again!" Gir cried after a beat of silence, throwing his tiny arms up.

Ignoring the outburst and wiping away the residue from his face Zim approached the vehicle. He brushed aside the substance as best he could, analyzing the powder between his fingers before realizing-

"Is this flour?!" he asked incredulously, voice shrill.

Innocent smile planted firmly on his face, Gir offered him a single nod from his spot on the floor, having since chosen to make little snowmen out of the mess surrounding them. Thank Irk this stuff is non-toxic.

Zim huffed, eye twitching in irritation,"How many times must I say it; stop putting food stuff in your head! Gah!"

The android giggled at him again, whether it was because he was used to the alien's fits or because he didn't sense any real anger- or the sadder third option being that he missed them- Zim didn't know. With the adrenaline waning, the Irken allowed himself to fall down beside his servant. He groaned, stretching out his legs into front of him as the exhaustion that had been harassing him the last few hours circling back around. The Voot was dead, for real this time, the garage was a mess, and he was running on the fumes of fumes. So much for his progress.

"Computeeeer," he whined, tossing his head back. If he weren't so tired, he might have felt some shame at the display.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it."

He kept the sour look on his face even as a small vacuum tube drooped down from above, beginning to work at the piles of foam laying around. It's very...slow...work. Before he could sink any deeper in his misery, however, he left something nudge at his leg. Forcing his eyes open, he glanced over curiously to see Gir sliding a large clump of his pretend snow over to him. He'd made a surprising amount of progress with his snow-er...foam men. Now they had a house, and neighbors, and...was that a Civil War reenactment between tacos and pizzas?

Looking back at the vacuum, then down at the pile, Zim couldn't help the small smile playing at his mouth. This is so stupid.

Settling himself into a more favorable position, he poked at the material and said, "As soon as this place is clean, we're getting back to work. Understood?"

He received another giddy nod and after that they both settled into a comfortable quiet.


Not a whole lot happening this chapter, sorry ya'll. I figure things have been kind of nonstop with the tension and drama, so have some filler/platonic fluff! Besides, who doesn't love Zim/Gir bonding? Also quick PSA: don't play with fire extinguisher residue, it'll irritate your essentials! The substance depicted in this chapter is purely fictional. Thanks so much for reading!