This one is LONG. It's over 3000 words! And there will be a part two! Enjoy!

The science lab smelled strongly of cleaning chemicals and the leftover stench of the last experiment. Dib nodded his head to the beat of the stereo. The room was empty except for one or two stragglers from the club meeting. The teacher gathered their papers to grade, nodding at Dib as they packed it away. "Going to lock up for me again, Dib?"

"Sure Mrs. Sanders."

"Thank you, Dib," she said, moving towards the door. She had her hand on the handle when she paused. "Oh, hello, Zim. We just finished. Dib's at his usual desk."

Dib looked up to see Zim slip into the room. "Thank you," he muttered, quickly making his way to Dib.

"Hey," he greeted, stowing away the last of the cleaning supplies. "I thought you hated the way it smelled in here."

Zim grunted at him, moving closer to the windows. Dib eyed him and chuckled. "You're holding your breath, aren't you?"

"Yes," Zim gritted between his zipper teeth. He threw open a window, breaking the lock, and stuck his head out. Dib shook his head as the alien took a deep breath and started waving the air in the room to the window.

"Zim, that doesn't work unless the fans are on," Dib says. Zim glares at him and Dib quickly starts pulling the chords. The fans started whirring to life. Soon the room was free of the smells, fresh air cycling in. Zim let out a gasp, shutting the window.

"Zim does not comprehend how Dib-stink can stand the smells of those chemicals," he spits. He reached the for lock and stopped. "Ah."

"Yeah," Dib says, leaning against the window panes. "As I said, I thought you hated the smell. And I was still right. Why didn't you just wait outside?"

"It is boring outside," Zim says. He glanced around the room. It was now empty. "And Zim needed to… borrow some supplies."

"What?"

Zim moved past him to the cabinets. Dib rushed in front of him, flinging out his arms. "Whoa! Hey, no! I'm the one locking up. Mrs. Sanders will think I stole them."

"Zim made sure she saw him enter so that she would have two suspects if she saw supplies missing before Zim returned them," Zim explains. Dib groans, running his hands through his hair.

"First off, no that doesn't mean I'll be out of trouble. Secondly, you know that the word 'I' exists, right?" Dib asks. It was rhetoric but Zim still scoffs at him.

"Of course!"

"Then use it," Dib says. Zim glowers at him.

"…."

Dib smirks. "You want to say 'Zim', don't you?"

Zim growls, pushing him out of way. "Shut your meat-trap!"

"Hahahaha! I knew it! You're too used to the ego boost you get, aren't you?" Dib teases. Zim ignores him, examining the cabinet lock. He had already decided that breaking it outright would not help avoid suspicion. A limb extended from his PAK, delivering a lock picking kit. Dib sighed. "You'll just shove me out of the way again, so I'll just annoy you with questions-"

Zim groaned. He still started on the lock despite Dib's threat. Dib smiled, taking it as his cue to continue.

"You can rip that door off the hinges. I know because of what you did to Chunk. So, why don't you?"

"Zim thought it'd be best to avoid suspicious evidence left behind, Dirt-monkey. That is also why the lock is being picked, not broken."

"Ah. That probably was obvious," Dib mumbles. He puckers his lips, trying to think. "Oh. What chemicals do you need from here you can't get somewhere else? Maybe without picking a lock?"

"They are the most easily accessible. And quickest. Zim does not want to bother attempting to 'purchase' any chemicals from the stores. And Zim needs volatile chemicals that this lab happens to use," he explains. Dib snorted.

"Oh, you're looking to use stuff that could cause some trouble if teens took it," he says. He had a joking tone that quickly soured. "Wait, you're not planning something are you? I was really hoping you were past that, and hadn't lied to me."

"Do not sound so hurt, Dib-stink," Zim says. The lock clicks open and the door swings. Zim stands, triumphant. "Zim just needs some for an experiment."

"And that would be?" Dib asks caustiously. He saw Zim reach for one container. The label he could see read had Dib grabbing Zim's hand. The alien jumped, almost hitting Dib in the chest with his arm before catching himself.

"Do not do that!" he screamed at him. Dib took his hand back, throwing them up before him.

"Acetylene? That's for the welding class, what do you need that for?" he asks.

"Zim is surprised you know that considering Dib-stink never bothers with that room. Zim does not understand why, Dib-stink is an experienced builder. You would do very well," Zim says. He grabs the container. He dodges out of Dib's reach, storing it quickly in his PAK. "Perhaps teach it."

"Stop trying to flatter me, why do you need that?" Dib asks. Zim scoffs, moving behind Dib in a second. He lifts him up by the back of his jacket, walking back to the cabinet. "Hey!"

Dib kicked, trying to wriggle free. Zim ignores him. "Zim need smore than that."

"Why?! Answer me, for Pete's sake!" Dib whines.

"Zim already did. An experiment. Maybe two… or five."

"Ziiiiiim."

"Zim just wanted to try some experiments he came across online. The science teacher at the school has yet to bother trying to teach them, so Zim was going to do so himself…. Does this school lack Acrolein?"

"Wh- of course it does! That stuff is on the banned list, it's too dangerous! It could kill somone if they even breathed it in, WHY WOULD WE HAVE THAT?!"

"That is a shame," Zim mumbles. Dib hears another container land in his PAK.

"What was that?"

"Some Chloride solution," Zim says. Dib hears him rummage through the cabinet some more. "There is a lot more in here than just what the lab needs."

"It holds every chemical for the high school. The welding shop, the art class, the-"

"Yes, yes, where is the Sodium Sulfide?" Zim asks, dropping Dib to the floor. He grabbed a desk corner to steady himself, turning to the alien sourly.

"Why do you need that? Why do you need any of this?" he asks. "Where did you find websites that listed experiments for these?"

"Dib-stink would get his answers faster if he simply assisted," Zim says plainly. Dib sighed heavily, looking on the taller shelves. He grabbed the container, shoving it towards the alien.

"Here."

"You're aware most of this is toxic, right?" Dib asks.

"Zim has measures in place. This is hardly the first time Zim has used hazardous materials," Zim says, shutting the doors and locking them again. "That aside, you need not worry about Sanders finding them gone, it is the weekend."

Dib groaned, following Zim out. He was sure to lock the door behind them. "You know, this would be better if you just got a bank account like a normal person."

"And put what in it?" Zim asks. "Does Dib-stink not recall that Zim lacks a job?"

"No, I just. Guh. Okay, I don't know where you would get the money," Dib admits. He slung his backpack around his shoulder, stomping down the hall.

"Precisely," Zim says. He followed Dib out of the school, turning with him to his house. "This forethought is part of why Irkens are the superior species."

"UUUGH," Dib sighed. "Zim, you always gloat that Irkens are superior and deadlier, yet you never killed me. So why do you always brag about it?"

Zim eyes him curiously. "If Zim had killed you, Dib-stink, he would have been severely bored. Without a competent rival this planet would have been too easy to conquer. Zim prefers a challenge. Was this not explained already?"

"No, it was," Dib mumbled. He readjusted his backpack, standing straighter. "I'm just saying. Never seen anything about it."

"Zim would prefer he not kill you, is that not good?" he asks.

"It is," Dib says. "You could probably slice me to ribbons with those claws, right?"

"I could do more than that," Zim says with a cackle. "Irken claws are venomous. You would likely not do well even if you lived past the fight."

"Is that another reason you wear the gloves?" Dib asked. He poked at Zim's hand. Zim yanked it away.

"YES. Irkens must be careful with our hands."

"That's got to be annoying."

"The gloves assist us," Zim assures him.

Monday came faster than Zim had realized. Dib had managed to entertain Zim over the weekend with experiments of his own. They had created foam and dabbled in mediocre science. Though, Zim was not above himself to admit they had been entertaining. He'd done his own experiments when Dib inevitably passed out. He had been sure to use as little as possible, not wanting the teacher to suspect much.

Now he was on the school's top floor in the early morning hours, cursing himself for neglecting to arrive sooner when it was still dark. His metallic limbs kept him steady as he looked for the broken lock on the windows. He was halfway across the room when he finally spotted it, pulling the pane up and slipping inside. Zim had finished picking the lock on the cabinet when he recalled Dib warning him the night before about returning the chemicals soon before he had left for his own house. Zim grimaced. Dib was not allowed to know he had still forgotten. He was getting out of practice.

Zim was about to shut the door, all chemicals back in place, when he heard the lab door handle shake. He ducked behind a desk, donning his disguise when the intruder entered. "Who's in here?"

Zim didn't answer, looking for ways out. He pondered going for the air ducts. He'd be able to move quickly through them, but would risk the human seeing his PAK limbs. The door next to him on this end of the room was still locked. He could break it down, but that would risk his cover. He looked back to the window, still open a crack. If he ran, he'd be a blur and could reach the roof. He had just decided on that as his first course of action when the human ran over and shut the window pane.

"I know you're still in here!" he shouted. Zim cursed himself. It was the school's overnight guard. His flashlight roamed over to Zim's end of the room. He moved behind a desk with cabinets built in, shrinking to fit the small space he could graciously call cover from the light. The guard didn't seem to notice him. "Come out and you'll only get detention."

Zim stopped himself from scoffing. He heard the cabinet door behind swung open. "Oi! If you stole from the cabinet, you're in a lot of trouble! Bargain's off the table, now!"

Zim took the chance of the guard rummaging through to check the chemicals to flit from desk to desk towards the open door. He was not getting caught. Dib would not let him live it down. Zim was two desks away when the light hit him.

"Hey!"

He bolted. He was out the door in a human heartbeat, running down the hall. He stopped at a corner, hiding from the guard's immediate sight. He heard the man calling down the hall. He had to leave, or he had to hide. Zim negated the prospect of picking a door's lock and ducking inside. It would take him too long. He couldn't laser the doors off and risk blowing his cover and have the police looking next. He started looking for the vent openings that were wide enough to fit him. He was halfway down the hall, trying to act as if he belonged.

The guard rounded the corner, spotting him. "Hey! Stop, I have a question for you!"

Zim paused, allowing the guard to reach him. "Yes?"

"How'd you get in? The school isn't open for another hour," the guard began. He was probing him. Zim held his ground, three lies already at his tongue.

"A side door was unlocked… I let myself in."

"Mhm. I locked all the doors before I started my shift, none of them were unlocked."

"Perhaps one of the locks is defective," Zim said, moving away. The guard grabbed his wrist, yanking him back. He shown the flashlight in his face, forcing Zim to squint.

"Not so fast. You're the only one here. You were the one in the science lab, weren't you?"

"Of course not."

"Yes, you were."

"No, you're mistaken. Release me, or I'll press charges," Zim said, pulling his arm away. His hand slipped free, but his glove came off. The guard held it out of his reach when Zim tried to grab with his still gloved hand. He held his other at his side. "Give that back to me, now."

"Answer my question honestly. Were you in the lab, and if so why? If you tell me now, you'll only get detention. You didn't take anything from the cabinet, I checked."

"You're mistaken," Zim repeats, making a grab for the glove again. The guard was too tall, however, easily keeping it out of his reach. Zim grit his teeth, quickly growing tired of this. "I warned you."

"What?"

Zim kicked at the guard's gut. He toppled over, unable to breath. Zim swiped for the glove with his exposed hand, using the other to shove the guard down. He was gone in seconds, down the hall and back to the science lab. He was climbing out the window and reapplying his glove when he noticed the blood. It was less than a drop, but it was enough for Zim to pause.

He raised himself to the roof and examined his claw. The very tip was dyed red. He openly swore in Irken, kicking the roof's ledge. A chunk of the brick his foot hit fell away. He looked down to the windows, seeing the light of guard's flashlight. He leaned away, moving silently to the center of the rooftop. He heard the guard swearing up a storm, and then slamming the window shut.

He groaned, forcibly putting his glove back on. The amount on his claw could mean two things. A ) He had hardly scratched the human and they would be fine. Or, B ) his claw had moved too fast and only collected the small amount of blood and he had gotten the human well enough.

Neither situation was good, considering he had assaulted the guard and was easily the most identifiable student in the school's roster. He paced back and forth, debating the situation. The school's first bell rang when he finally made a decision, whipping out his phone and typing away.

Dib sat in class, worrying over where Zim had been that morning, when he felt his phone buzz. He checked to be sure the teacher hadn't heard it, and slyly moved it from his pocket to under his desk.

'Dib-stink, Zim has made a mistake.'

Dib furrowed his brow, not pleased with that opening at all. He typed back in a flurry.

'What does that mean? Are the chemicals still gone? I told you last night to bring them back!'

Dib waited, pretending to listen to the lesson until the next buzz.

'They are returned, but Zim was caught.'

'Are you in the office?'

'The roof'

'Why?'

'The guard- that idiotic pest- caught zim by luck. He may have been injured'

'What did you do?!'

'ZIM DID NOT INTEND TO'

'WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?'

'Zim will explain. Meet me on the rooftop between classes'

Dib stared at his screen. He typed back his agreement and slipped it back into his pocket. He pressed his hand to his forehead, already forming a headache.

When he hit the rooftop, Zim was sitting next to the door, arms crossed and glaring at the sky. Dib sighed, sitting next to him. "What happened?"

"Zim checked the guard during classes," he began. He caught Dib's mouth open and spoke over him. "Using the vents. He is not well. The nurse gave him anti-inflammatories, but that will do very little."

"Very little- wait did he actually catch you? Like got a hand on you? How did he manage that?!" Dib shouts. Zim leans away for a moment, placing a hand on his head.

"LOUD. Zim was acting normal… should have just broken down a door," he grumbled. "He took Zim's glove and refused to return it. My claw nicked him when I took it back."

"Good enough to make him sick?" Dib asked.

"Zim had been hoping not, but Irken venom is very invasive and persistent. One drop is apparently enough to do the job," Zim says. Dib was surprised to hear a lack of pride in that fact, but ignored it in favor of learning the situation.

"Okay, so how bad is it?"

"He will be deceased by tomorrow," Zim says flatly. Dib gawks at him. Zim looks over when Dib's silence stretches on too long.

"That fast?! You just said it was a drop!"

"Yes, and that is invasive and persistent!"

"Venom doesn't work like that-"

"Irken venom attacks cells-"

"What? It's cancer on your fingertips?!"

"Essentially it would be a highly aggressive strain, yes."

"Is there a cure?" Dib asks, standing now. "You can't be under investigation for murder, Zim. They'll look for a poison, come up empty when toxicology has no idea what it is, and you'll need to answer for that. That could be a way to blow your entire cover."

"Zim is aware of the situation, Dib-stink!" Zim screams at him. "My PAK has been formulating past instances for solutions. Perhaps an old recipe to use. So far all Zim can find is a solution that slows the progress used in torture interrogations many millennia ago."

"Modify it to stop the progress instead. You can do that, right?" Dib pleads. Zim could see the fear in his eyes plainly. He shrugs.

"Perhaps. If I can make it potent enough. Alternatively, Zim could devise his own antidote. Irkens have one, but it takes several days to manufacture. Zim would need to improve the solution."

"Do both, whatever comes up first we'll use. If it slows it down long enough to get the antidote made, we'll just use that," Dib says hurriedly.

"There is another issue," Zim says. Dib glowers at him. "I would need to hold the human until the antidote is made to ensure he does not accidently infect another. His blood or saliva is now possibly contagious."

Dib blinked at him. "You said it was a venom, not a virus."

"It attacks all cells. If it encounters cells outside the host body it does not matter to it. Once out of a living being for three hours, however, it becomes null due to death or open air," Zim explains. "This is how it keeps planet inhabitants from becoming extinct when Irkens used to hunt for our food."

Dib groaned loudly, pulling at his hair. He paced on the rooftop, hearing the starting bell sound. He turns back to Zim. "Okay, so… you're going to have to kidnap him. Nice. Perfect. Just great."

"You are rambling," Zim says. He stands, stopping Dib's pacing and directing him towards the door. "Dib-stink, go back to class. Zim will handle this."

Dib stops his foot at the door. "Do you know where he is?"

"Zim will," Zim says. He forces open the door, shoving Dib inside. "Get to class, now."