"…saí chin ezo…"
Gaz woke up slowly, her hazy mind confused at how hard her pillow felt.
"…affle…"
She struggled to pinpoint who was talking.
"…i, chin chucha…"
That one is Zim… He has such a nice voice, she thought.
"I want waffles!" Gir screeched loudly, and her eyes snapped open. Gaz realized she must've fallen asleep on the couch, which explained her surroundings being the living room.
She looked to her right, to see Gir standing behind the coffee table, screaming about waffles or something. Gaz almost groaned in annoyance at the large noise. It's definitely Zim's turn to handle this, she thought to herself. She wondered where her green guest was... Suddenly, the pillow she was resting on shifted, and Zim's voice emerged from just behind her head.
"Al kha ú itotí chuth ga etho, alsek eí'aorso'ukh."
Gaz's heart leapt into her throat as she realized that she was lying on top of Zim. She tried to piece together the night before, remembering them watching Short Circuit… But nothing further. Shit. She winced to herself, wanting to give anything to be able to die right now before she had to deal with any inevitable embarrassing conversations. She considered pretending to be asleep for the time being.
"Good morning, Gaz." Her hope of someone getting out of this awkward situation evaporated into thin air. Gir continued to scream in the background, but she could barely hear him over the sound of her blood pounding.
"Good morning, Zim." She whispered. It occurred to her shortly after that she should probably get off him, so she started making moves to sit up. Of course, Zim immediately helped, seemingly with no effort at all.
"Thanks." Gaz said, looking back over at him. His shirt was all wrinkled, and he shook his left hand ever so slightly. She noted somewhere in her mind that Irkens could also get pins and needles, apparently.
Zim coyly smiled at her, causing her face to heat up with embarrassment.
"You're welcome. Sleep good?" His smile widened, a touch of playful malice behind his eyes, and she groaned internally as she realized that he was going to milk this for all it's worth.
"Yeah… How did you know I was awake?"
Zim shrugged. "Your air is fast more, then you from blanket, to floor go."
Gaz's brows furrowed. Zim said… she was breathing faster, then… what?
"What? I didn't fall to the floor, Zim."
"No, no…" He frowned, his left antenna twitching. "You go from blanket… Gir, penleg buch!" Gir quits his incessant screaming about waffles, and bolts from the kitchen back into the living room. When he salutes, his eyes shine red briefly before he slumps back into his normal position.
"Mi, lesi!" Gir says this every time Zim talks to him, so Gaz thought it meant 'yes sir' or something, but Zim didn't seem to like that because he always followed it up with-
"Egal ú tuzit tut." Don't call me that. "Ngaí Gaz, gach khí'el riv rich gach gifeí ngóí gach kínoízh eplóínseísízh kaí sifísízh." Gir turns to me, always so happy to be helpful.
"He says that you were stiff when you woke up!"
Ah, okay. 'From blanket to floor' meant stiff. Wonderful, Gaz thought. She never wanted to talk to anyone again.
Zim chuckled at her, causing Gaz to want to punch him.
"Well, I'm glad you think this is funny!" She snapped.
"It is! You sleep like baby!"
"Well, why didn't you move me? You couldn't have slept very well." Gaz smirked as her ploy worked, Zim's face flushing as he became embarrassed.
"Ah… Well, you… I you not want wake." He mumbles. Gaz sighed frustratingly to herself as she was now annoyed that he said something so sweet that she couldn't follow it up.
"I'm sorry that I fell asleep like that."
Zim quickly shook his head and leaned forward.
"No, no! It is good, I am good." He nods assuredly, and smiles.
"Well, I'm sorry for keeping you awake."
"You not me wake." He tilts his head, confused.
"I mean, you must've fallen asleep after me, and you're awake now. Hey, exactly how long do Ir- uh, your people sleep anyway?"
Zim winced at the question, but recovered quickly.
"Same as human, I… I sleep not good."
"Do you have insomnia or something?"
"Eh, what?"
Gaz mentally admonished herself. It was definitely a leap to think he knew what insomnia was.
"Gir, come back!" She called out for the little metal gremlin. Some rustling in her bedroom halted and the living adderall ad came bounding back.
"Yes, pretty lady?" He squeals.
"Don't call me that." The thought flitted through her brain that both Zim and her had a similar call-and-response routine going. She blinked, focusing her attention on the robot. "Ask Zim if he has insomnia." Gir nods, and moves closer to Zim.
"Lesi, fin al vaí veízabazh?" Zim rolls his eyes.
"Egal ú tuzit tut." He says with exasperation, turning to me as he speaks. "No, I do not have that. I have… síaí yí mijeteí."
"What is that?" Gaz caught Gir by the arm as he tried to walk away so he could stay to translate.
"Síaí yí mijeteí are nightmares!" Gir got the hint, and translated what Gaz said, in the same overly happy tone he always had.
"I see." She said. "Come here, I'm gonna need you for this conversation." Gaz settled Gir on her lap so he couldn't get distracted and run away. The little bot happily and absentmindedly kicked his legs in the air as she turned back to Zim.
"You had a sih-aa-ih yih meejet-something last night, right?"
Zim's antenna drooped down sadly and he turned away from her as she spoke.
"Yes, I am sorry, I you not want wake." He said somberly. Gaz tried to ignore Gir's attempts to bruise her shins, and pressed forward.
"It's alright Zim. There's nothing to be sorry for, I understand." Zim nodded as she spoke. "Do you have nightmares often?"
"Yes."
"Are they always about your father?" Gaz tried to soften her voice, wanting Zim to feel calm and safe.
"No. I not want you know. It is not good." His eyes harden, and he frowns. "I know you see good, but I am not good."
"For the last time, that's not true. Gir, tell him that mistakes, or trauma, or whatever bad thing in his life that happened to him does not make him a bad person."
"Gach la al chin yí waota, sír gín, sír aoseí shech yo mí núf li chin zhítoízh ú z̀eír shech kao shi." As Gir delivers his translation, Zim's face softens, and his eyes sadden.
"Woí 'a kaí yí waota shi, re shech yí yoa finoízh?" Zim snaps his fingers.
"What if I did not make mistakes, but did bad things?" Gir yells. His shrieking voice cuts into this conversation with the delicateness of a food fight.
"Then I still forgive you." She said, snapping her fingers again.
"Źeírmaí kaí alsek zhí úshúj." Gir parrots. Zim closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Zim's eyes meet hers, and a slight smile traces his lips.
"Is there any way to help your nightmares?" Gaz asks. He blinks, processing the questions, before blushing and looking away.
"Well, yes. I uh, I more sleep good last night had... with you." His skin got even darker and Gaz felt the heat grow in her own cheeks as well.
"That's um. That's good then." Gaz cleared her throat.
"Hmm. Thank you for help with my nightmare. It was not one good."
"Lesí has never slept well!" Gir cuts in. "Yeízhazi says that he-"
"Chin khí shiye, Gir." Zim says, unnervingly calmly. She knew better than to ask.
"If you ever need me again, um, feel free to wake me up. I used to have sleep paralysis, so I know how scary night terrors and the like can get."
"What is sleep paralysis?"
"Uh, Gir? Sleep paralysis?" The kicking into her shins momentarily stopped as he listened, and then resumed when he spoke.
"Veíz údaízhoulkeí."
"Ah." Zim nods with understanding. "That is not fun."
"Yeah. Um, I'm gonna go get dressed," Gaz released Gir, who bounded off back towards her room. "I have that class this afternoon so I'm going to have to finish that portrait. You good to sit still for another hour?" He cracks a smile.
"That is fine for me."
"Great, I'll be right back."
"General, your phone?" General Drewey snaps out of his concentration on the list of names, and grabs his ringing phone off the folding table. He nodded his thanks at Ian and answered the call.
"Hello?" He put out his cigarette as he spoke, and motioned for some low level soldiers to leave the tent. Ian groaned to himself as he watched them file out. He was getting sick and tired of this manhunt for the Occupant. He didn't think they were ever going to find it.
"Doctor Norton! How good to hear your voice. How is prep back at the base?"
"Wonderful. You have all the needed tools and such?"
Ian thought to himself about the rumors that the good doctor was itching to get his hands on the Occupant.
"Uh, and how many of those do you need exactly?"
If the Occupant really is intelligent, it probably knows to stay far away.
"I see. I'll make sure that happens, doc. We're close now, I can feel it. We're coming up on a university now-"
Ian almost hoped it knew to stay away.
"Yes, of course. I'll be sure to notify you straight away. Have a good day, doctor." The general hung up his phone, and groaned.
"What did he want now?" I ask. It's never something good.
"Something about 'quality of bone saws'. I don't know, medical jargon is not for me. My job is to find this bastard."
"He called you to complain about bone saws?" Doesn't he have anything better to do?
"Yeah, he wanted me to order more. Diamond tipped ones I think he said. I'll get one of the privates to do it. Major, just remind me when we're done with the itinerary, okay?"
"Yes sir. As I was saying, I've plotted out the most logical order for us to interview the twelve most likely candidates based on apartment building and number of-"
"I don't care about the details, major. Who are we talking to first?"
"Five of the girls live in the same apartment building, Breanna Holgerson, Lauren Rodriguez, Luneta Macleod, Gazlene Membrane, and Elise Dimitrov. I think we should start there. Breanna and Luneta live on the first floor, so I would start with them." Major Johnson waited patiently for a response, watching the general ponder the names.
"Membrane… Isn't that the name of the tech wizard out in LA?"
"Um, yeah. I doubt it's of any relation, though." Ian couldn't remember if the professor had kids or not.
"Doesn't matter." The general said. "Tell the troops to pack up and roll out, we've got an occupant to catch. How far away is the college?"
"Only a twenty minute drive, sir. Accounting for the time needed to pack up, we should be there in an hour or so."
"Good. Looking forward to it."
"Okay, um, shoes." Gaz was almost done with his portrait, just a few pieces of shading needed left. To pass the time for Zim while she drew him, she had him sitting on the couch with Gir while she taught him English. Gaz says a word, Gir translates, Zim learns. Zim says a word, Gir translates, Gaz learns. It's a bit of a win-win scenario, she thought.
"Yí 'ateích!" Whenever Gir spoke he kicked his legs up like a toddler. Zim nodded, thought a bit, then selected a word.
"Yí aíleí." Gir spun his head back to her, and responded.
"Socks!"
"Why do you guys keep saying that word?" She asked.
"What word?" Zim tilted his head, one antennae higher than the other.
"The um, the 'Yih' word."
"It is a… It is…" He gives up and turns to Gir. "Irketsi fitwi z̀eír epluch jov ga yí jova tomíli shi."
"Irketsi uses a separate word to help make words plural!" The robot's loud voice forced Gaz to look down at him. As she did, she noted his design, as it was certainly interesting. He has a blue line shaped like a slight smile, that lights up every time he talks. His eyes are big round circles with some sort of camera shutter behind them, because the amount of the eye that is fully lit changes depending on Gir's 'emotions'. They are typically in a happy position, she thought.
"Oh, interesting. Is it all words? Or just some?"
"Some words. You, me, Gir, socks." He smiled.
"Cool. Gir, translate 'painting.'" She turned her attention back to her painting, noting that she was almost done, just needed a few more touches here and there.
"Ireílkeí!"
"Chúdez." Zim responded.
"Artist!"
"I'm an artist, you know?"
Zim nods. "I know."
"How about, photograph?"
"Eítwemud!"
Gaz winced at Gir's ear piercing shriek. He wasn't capable of speaking quietly, it seemed.
"Aofaoya."
In contrast, Zim's voice can be quite soft when he's in deep thought, although he has gotten extremely loud when he freaks out.
"Gorgeous!" Gir squeals.
"Gir!" Zim yells, and I glance up to see him frown at Gir, his face darkening. "Fin ú 'aokí tut!" Don't translate that!
"What did you say?"
Zim looked severely embarrassed, forcing Gaz to bite back a laugh.
"Eh, the - the painting there," He pointed at a watercolor painting of a bouquet of flowers. "It is gore-gee-ous." He sounds the word out, and winces.
"Okay." Gaz smiled and went back to her portrait, casting the occasional look at him. He's fiddling with his hands, clearly nervous, and there's that telltale darkening of his skin... "Gir, translate 'completed.'" She admired her work as she spoke, being careful to keep it out of Zim's line of sight.
"Ulchina!" Gir squeaked.
Zim looks up from his hands, his antennae shooting straight up, and slightly forward.
"Ulchina?" He repeats.
"Yep!" She stood up and walked over to the couch. "Move over, Gir." Gir hopped off the couch, squealing something about monkeys and ran into the other room. "Here," She handed Zim his portrait. "What do you think?"
He took it in his hand, and stared at it in silence.
Gaz had to admit to herself, she was quite proud of how it turned out. In the picture, Zim's face is tilted away, his eyes looking at something to the left, past the page. She used heavy shadowing to make his face almost melt into the background, making his skin stand out even more by contrast. The picture is fairly realistic, and although she drew his scars, she tried to diminish their appearance to slight scratches on the skin. His expression is peaceful, mouth in a slight smile, and eyelids lowered, as if he's just a little bit tired. Her favorite part was his eyes, they're strange and alluring, in a way. The vibrant color of red is so unearthly and entrancing, she felt she could look at them all day…
"So, what do you think?" She snapped her attention back to the real Zim, who hadn't moved since she handed him the picture. He doesn't say anything. Leaning in and gently touching his shoulder, she tried again. "Zim? What do you think?" He seemed to slowly register her, and turns to look at her.
"It is… it is beautiful." He says, quietly.
"Really? You like it?"
"It the good more, um, painting for me."
"What?" Gaz thought he was trying to say 'the best picture', but that can't be right… right? "Gir?" Gaz called out. The little robot comes bounding back out of the kitchen, yet another pot on his head. She gestured towards Gir, and Zim sighed as he blushed.
"Git khí 'e noch ireílkeí no egal chin kaí vaí miz 'ótísízh."
"He says it's the best painting of him that Lesi has ever seen!"
Zim closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his 'nose'.
"You really think that?"
"Ooooh, it is a nice picture!" Gir shrieks.
"Yes," Zim's left antennae twitches. "All painting before are… chun nulchew to gifeí."
"Gir?" Gaz had to catch him by the arm, again, to keep him from escaping.
"Lesi says they're too formal and stiff!" Zim mutters something under his breath, probably 'don't call me that'. She still hasn't asked him what that means, she made a note to add it to the list.
"Well, thank you. You'll be able to keep it, if you'd like, after it gets graded. I'm totally going to get an A for this 'creative creature' contest." He smirked.
"Yes? I can keep it?"
"Of course you can. It's all yours." Gaz gently placed the picture on the coffee table and reluctantly released Gir to do God-knows-what in the kitchen.
"Thank you." Zim murmurs. The sunlight from the window backlights his head, making him have this unearthly glow to him. She had to lean in a little bit to avoid the sun from getting in her eyes.
"You're welcome, in fact I should be thanking you, you sat still for me." Gaz realized that this close, she could really see the creases and dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep. All of his tiny scars, knicks, and scratches are all the more apparent. His skin is like a painful map of his past.
"You are artist good. More than good." His breath is surprisingly cool, the chill of it sent shivers down her spine. She could feel his hands fold around hers, and everything around her suddenly felt so still. Even with the birds outside, Gir in the kitchen, it's like the world went quiet. Unmoving, and peaceful.
"I could teach you." She said, feeling that tell tale warmth reach her face, but for once she didn't care. He chuckled quietly, at her offer, and leaned in closer.
"I will that like." His voice is barely louder than a whisper, and his eyes are closing. His hands tighten around hers, and she held his tighter in return.
Knock knock!
They jumped apart, and Gaz felt her brain snap back into place. What was that!?, she thought to herself. She struggled to comprehend the concept of Zim almost kissing her, and glanced up at him to see if he was struggling the same way. He looked a little dazed, and a deep shade of green. Gaz opened her mouth to say something, anything, when the knocking at the door repeats.
"I, um." She cleared her throat. "I'm going to uh, get that." She pointed to the door. "You should probably go… somewhere else so whoever's at the door doesn't see you."
"Okay." Yeah. They both awkwardly stood up and moved in their separate directions, Gaz taking one last glance at Zim as he wrangled Gir into her room with him, and she flashed him a reassuring smile before she opened the door.