Driver woke up the next morning after a dreamless sleep; the previous night, she'd fallen fast asleep as soon as her body had lain on the cot in her small sleeping chamber, exhausted by the experiences she'd lived that day. Which was actually a surprisingly good thing: before going to bed, she'd worried she wouldn't be able to sleep in because of them in the first place.
She turned in her cot and stretched her back and limbs with a moan, feeling unexpectedly well-rested. She moved the bed sheets to one side and slowly stood up sitting, her bare feet on the ship's floor. She took a glance around the small, dark cabin that was her bedroom on her ship; the strongest light she could see came from the alarm clock, which at the moment read in glowing red numbers: 9:00 am. So she'd woken at her usual time, too. Good. Maybe she would be spared from having nightmares about that awful accident after all.
She stood up, and with the push of a button on the wall she opened the bedroom's sliding door. She stepped into the illuminated hallway of the ship, and something in the kitchen, which laid opposite to her chamber, caught her attention: through her sleepy eyes, she could see Zim sitting at the little table inside, playing with her Nintendo DS in the same position she'd left him when she went to sleep. Time didn't seem to pass for him like it did for her: she was sleep-daze, her hair messy, her movements sluggish, but he was still playing the game like only a few minutes had passed since she'd left him. One thing had changed though: he'd moved from the control room to the kitchen. He probably knew she was going to wake up soon and preemptively went there to have breakfast together (how cute!).
As she entered the kitchen, Zim finally perceived her movements and looked up from his game.
"Good morning" she murmured with a sleepy voice as she got closer to him, massaging her closed eyes with her palms.
"Good morning" he replied with a slight nod of his head.
"Mmmh" she groaned as she stretched her back again flexing it backwards, and felt a pleasant crack in her spine.
"How was the night watch?" she asked him.
"Nothing to report" he said straightening his posture. "All I saw was an ice cream truck around 3. That... horrible... song" he shuddered at the memory, "I wish I could have blown it up".
"I can only imagine" she nodded with understanding.
"Plus, I am pretty sure this 'league' of buffoons is impossible to beat" he added shaking the gaming console, "This game must be rigged! I've been trying the whole night!"
"Yeah, that part is pretty hard" she agreed, "I'm sure you'll beat it, eventually".
Zim was about to return to his game, when she gently slipped a hand under his chin. She guided his face up, so that she could take a good look at his left cheek: already, the cut from the day before was almost vanished, reduced to nothing more than a light, barely-visible mark on his skin.
"What?" he asked, oddly unbothered by her hand's touch.
"Just checking on your cut" she smiled.
"I told you it was nothing" he said with a hint of conceit, "As you can see, I'm already all healed".
Driver caressed his other cheek, leaned towards him, and pressed her puckered lips down on the previously-hurt one, squishing his face between her mouth and her hand.
"Nnnnnngh! What awe you doin'?" Zim weakly squirmed in her grasp, his short legs kicking as the hung the chair, "I faid I'm h-healed! Lef go!", he whined in a muffled voice.
She drew back from his cheek with a smacking "Muah!" sound.
"I was just testing the durability of your new skin" she grinned, admiring his adorable, blushing face.
Zim wiped his cheek, flustered and pouting.
"Pretty sure there are more efficient ways of doing that" he grumbled.
"Not that I know of" she retorted.
"How about some breakfast?" she proposed as she fetched a cereal box from the cupboard and milk from the fridge; both space products that tasted like more sugary, more artificial versions of their Earth counterparts.
Zim closed the still-on Nintendo DS, pushing it to one side of the table.
When she was done fixing both their bowls, she sat in front of him, and they started eating. She liked having meals with him. It was the one thing that they consistently, always shared together, and eating always seemed to put him in a slightly better mood than usual.
"How long are we gonna have to eat cereal?" he asked as he munched on a spoonful of the stuff.
"You don't like 'em?" she asked back.
"I do, but... your cooking tastes better"
"The kitchen here is too small to cook" she explained, "I don't even have an oven or a decent fridge".
The ship's kitchen was very compact. All it contained were a microwave, a cupboard, a small fridge and a small square table with two chairs, all nailed to the floor. It didn't even have a sink: she had to use the bathroom's one to do the dishes. While the lower half of the ship was pretty wide, allowing for two escape pods, the engines, and most of the plumbing and heat systems, as well as a storage room for 'delivery purposes', the upper part lacked most comforts for the passengers: the widest space was the control room; the bathroom, kitchen and bedroom where laughably small and bare, barely allowing for two people (or three, if they squeezed themselves together reeeeeeeal tight and didn't all sleep at the same time) to live in. The compactness was to ensure the ship's speed, lightness and maneuverability in case they needed to battle or escape. Which was a lot.
"Tell you what. As soon as we come home, I'm cooking you whatever you ask for" she offered.
"'Home'?", he asked "you mean, your house?"
"Yeah, hmmm" she paused for a moment to swallow a bite of cereals, tracing circles in the air with her spoon like it was a gear turning, "that's what I meant. Ask for whatever you want!"
"Well, uh..." he hesitated for a moment. "There was that one time when you baked that blastberry pie. That one was pretty good..." he finally said with a timid, quiet voice, looking away from her gaze
"Then blastberry pie you shall have!" she sang.
Zim looked up and smiled at her, and she wished real hard that she had a piece of blastberry pie to serve him right at that moment.
"I'm glad you changed the course to a main road" he said, "We'll get to the market a lot faster"
"There was no way I'd continue on that route any longer" she stated, her heart still full of dread at the memory, "I've had my fill of murdering old cannibals, thank you very much..."
Zim snorted.
"You mean that as in... you've had your fill of old cannibals that murder... OR... you've had your fill of you murdering them?"
"Hah!" she chuckled, catching on the involuntary ambiguity of her statement, "Dude, you know I'd never get tired of killing old people"
"Hehehe, yeah... I know" Zim smiled, a light blush again on his cheeks.
She smiled back at him, and kept eating. She liked when men appreciated her violent side. Most of them seemed to be scared or crept out by it, but Zim seemed... extremely attracted to it.
I bet underneath all that innocent, prudish facade he's into some real nasty stuff.
That thought almost made her choke on her cereal; she tried to push real hard against imagining what Zim's tastes in that regard might have been, at least while he was right in front of her, but to no avail.
Thankfully, Zim spoke again and diverted her from her... reverie:
"Human?" Zim asked, blissfully unaware of her indecent thoughts, "Do you think they'll have smuggled Irken uniforms there?"
"'Smuggled'? Hey, just because it's a place I know, it doesn't mean it's illegal!" she protested.
"... it's not?"
"... only, like, thirty percent" she admitted, "Also, why do you need-OH, right! Your shirt is still ruined from the fire". She'd forgotten because his long glove hid the burnt sleeve. "Can't you order one from your own people?"
"Invader uniforms are considered military equipment"
"And?"
"That means that the order must be approved by the Tallest!" he explained, "And, what do you think will happen when they'll find out I'm not on Earth? Or why I need a new uniform in the first place?"
"So what? Falsify the order. Tell 'em you burnt it during an experiment, or something. I'm sure you'd be capable of that. You're good with computers"
"YOU-!" Zim exclaimed indignant, retreating in his chair like her very words had caused a sense of repulsion in him, "Are you suggesting I should LIE to my Empire? To my Tallest?!"
"Uh..."
He was attracted to her being a murderer but he considered lying to a government to be an affront on morality? His moral compass was even more broken than hers, and that was saying a lot...
"... no?" she concluded, trying not to stir up a useless argument.
"Yeah!" he scoffed, "Thought I heard so!"
"I'm sure you'll find something in the illegal area" she reassured him as she raised her cereal-less bowl to drink the remaining milk.
A much less positive thought hit her as she lowered the now empty bowl on the table.
"Although..." she reflected, "traveling this route might bring its own brand of problems..."
"Like what?" he asked.
"Like the Flordian customs" she replied, "and we should be pretty close, too".
The Flordians were aliens in control of that portion of space, their planet being at the center of it; apparently, they were so paranoid about foreign threats that they'd barricaded the whole border: if one didn't want to fight off the military ships that constantly patrolled it, they needed to go through one of the numerous checkpoint stations; if the authorities deemed them harmless, they provided a pass to put on their ship, so that they may navigate their territory without being blown up. Ironically, the best way to avoid that was to not try to sneak in in secret, but rather to pass through the customs' checkpoints. Preferably, in her case, with a bunch of false documents.
She wasn't even too worried about that: she'd done it once, several years, before. Her false documents usually worked. And anyway, she would have much rather had to take on a bunch of cops than another couple of stephen-king-esque alien monsters.
After they had breakfast, Driver did the dishes, washed herself and changed into her work clothes. By the time she was ready, the border patrols were already in sight: she saw multiple military ships stationed at even points in space, forming a giant, spherical web of ships; in the center of the sphere, in the distance, was the pink dot that was their home planet. In between the ships were the checkpoint stations through which foreign vehicles were expected to enter or exit the area.
She placed herself in the pilot seat and disabled the autopilot; then, she steered the ship towards the closest station.
"Zim, do you remember what we said about how to behave around cops?" she asked him.
He had sat at his usual place to her left, trying once again to beat the League in Pokémon with her DS console.
"Yeah, yeah" he waved his hand dismissively, eyes stuck to the Nintendo, "we jump down the ship as soon as we reach the customs' station and shoot everything we see"
"What?! No!" she exclaimed "That's the exact opposite of what I said!"
"Yeah, real interesting, Driver-human" Zim absentmindedly murmured as he kept playing.
"Hey? HEY, Zim? Look at me" she waved her hand and snapped her fingers between his eyes and the console. Finally, he had to look up and pay her attention, shooting her an annoyed look.
"Look at me. Listen to me. This is very, VERY important. We NEED to act polite and civil and calm. We give them our 'documents'. And then we leave like we are regular, honest citizens. And THAT'S it. No unnecessary guns allowed. No unnecessary SHOOTING allowed. AND, most importantly" she pointed her index finger to his chest for emphasis, "YOU lock yourself in the kitchen, or the bathroom, or the bedroom or WHATEVER and you STAY there. You got that?"
Zim stared at her with the blankest of gazes.
"... but I wanted to shoot-"
"NO!" she demoted him pressing her finger into his chest, and neared her face to his, "You stay HERE and you NOT shoot UNLESS I tell you to. If they find us out we are DEAD. Dead, dead, dead. I repeat: if you do not listen to me we'll both end up DEAD"
"AL - RIGHT, I GET it! Geez, woman! How overdramatic you are! Cut me some slack, okay? I. Get it!" he yelled back at her, irritated.
"Talking to me like I'm... Gir, or something..." he then mumbled under his breath as he jumped down his seat and went closing himself inside the kitchen.
Driver flew the ship into the checkpoint station; the patrol ships all around it seemed to stare at her and her ship. She gulped down her fears, and mentally repeated to herself:
It's okay. It will all be okay. You are a polite, regular citizen and you've got nothing to fear. Everything will be okay.
The station was very much like a big car wash: an enclosed corridor through which ships needed to pass. Only in place of the cleaning tools for the vehicles were the cops checking the pilots' documents.
As she entered the station, a big door slid shut behind her; a big light sign hanging from the ceiling blinked red: 'Pressurization in progress. Do not exit your ship'. In front of her were a platform for landing, and beyond it the big, closed metal door that led into the Flordian territory.
Shortly after she landed on the platform, a bell rang and the sign turned off: the room had been pressurized.
She turned off the engines, fetched her fake documents from under the panel control, and headed to her ship's exit.
"Wish me luck!" she said as she passed past the kitchen.
"I hope the police don't kill you!" she heard Zim reply from behind the door.
She smiled at his odd words of encouragement. She'd thought of forging some fake documents for him too, but explaining why an Irken and a weird, naked ape were traveling together would have been a pain even with all the creativity she was capable of pouring into them: having him hide would be much simpler.
Please, Zim, for once, try to lay low, she prayed.
She opened the main exit and a staircase rolled out from her ship to the dock next to the platform she'd landed on: already there were two aliens in uniforms waiting for her down below. Wearing her brightest smile, she waved at them with her free hand as she climbed down the staircase.
"Good day, officers!" she greeted them.
Her happy smile and greeting weren't returned: the two guards simply stared at her with deadpan expressions on their faces, in total silence. However, they didn't look intimidating per se: they had magenta-pink skin; long lumps on their cheeks and mouths that looked like wider cat's whiskers and moustaches; matching blue helmets and blue military uniforms with the Flordian emblem on the right side; they carried blast-guns on their backs; they were naked from the waist down, walking on four tentacles: they pretty much looked like a cross between Squidward and the Pink Panther, and she had to refrain herself from laughing at that strikingly accurate comparison.
As she got to their level, she noticed that one was shorter and burlier, the other being slimmer and taller and possibly younger. Other than that, they looked pretty much identical to her: even their bored, annoyed expressions were the same.
When she finally stood in front of them, the burly one spoke in a very monotone voice:
"Please provide your license and registration"
Damn. Someone was cranky. Seemed like she couldn't get along with authorities not even when she acted at her politest. Could they somehow smell the criminality emanating from her?
"Here you go" she handed the papers over.
The burly guard flipped through it, while his companion kept staring at her with suspicious, somehow hostile eyes.
"So your name is Sharice. Passport printed in Merritt's Third Security Printing Bureau. Correct?"
"Yup, sir" she nodded, looking at the passport that she still remembered printing herself a week before in her room, slacked on her chair with only her underwear and a shirt on, munching on toasted bread and jam.
Using a portable scanner that he'd been keeping in a pocket, the burly guard scanned the barcode on the 'passport': a small, positive light beeped on its top. Phew. Thank God, she thought. Not that her fake bar codes had ever failed her.
"And this says you're a... Blerchian" he continued.
"Correct"
"Funny" he scoffed, but there was no trace of a smile on his face, "It really sounds like 'Blorchian' but with an e instead of an o"
Oooh. Right. Blorchians. She'd thought she'd made that word up, but apparently it was just a modified version of a name that she'd subconsciously remembered.
"What can I say?" she giggled and shrugged, "Many words sound like each other"
"Uh uh. And your planet in the Merritt galaxy? Because I've got a thrice removed cousin from there and I've never heard him mentioning of a Blerch planet before"
Oh, to hell with you and your thrice removed cousin.
"It's a very, very small, unimportant planet. Rarely comes up in conversations" she smiled.
"What are you even?" the slim, tall guard intervened for the first time, "Some kind of naked brachiofacial rat?"
"Yeah, eh... something like that" she nodded. Well, that was certainly... new. Of all the unflattering terms that'd been used to describe her, she'd never heard 'rat' before.
"Ah"
"Well, Sharice, Blerchian from the Blerch planet, where are you headed to?" the burly one asked.
"I'm on my way to the Market of Tiyo! I wanna buy some Ladorite healing crystals. It's for my grandma. She's been sick" she lied.
"Couldn't you just order them instead of going there yourself? It's quite the journey from your home"
"I'm a fan of... doing things myself. Especially for such an important matter" she tried to smile wider to hide her irritation. What kind of question was that? At this point, she was sure they were trying to ask her as many questions as possible to exhaust her.
"And this ship is yours? It's a big ship for somebody who's just uhhh", he checked her birth date, "two hundred years old"
"It was a gift for my Bachelor's degree" the girl who had never even finished high school replied, "Wanna see my student card? I still have it"
"Yeah, sure"
Crap. She didn't think they would actually want to see it.
She searched in her pants' back pocket and retrieved the fake university card.
"Never seen this logo" the guard said as he inspected it, "Is this in the Merritt galaxy too?"
"It's very far from here, actually. My parents wanted me to study abroad. It's a very prestigious institution over there" she explained, and she really hoped they wouldn't ask her any deeper questions about it, because she'd never once stepped inside a 'prestigious institution' in her entire life.
"Ha. A honor student" he commented.
"What even is this plant?" the slim guard asked, tipping on the logo.
"It's, uh... it's a local plant that we use as a wreath for our graduations" she explained, and she had to push back a fit of laughter, because that logo was nothing more than a stylized drawing of a marijuana leaf inside a circle, around which she'd edited the words 'culture', 'education', 'truth'. Admittedly, she'd been a little bit high herself back when she'd printed that card, and at that time it'd seemed like the most hilarious thing ever. It still kinda was, truth to be told.
Looking almost disappointed for not having found anything compromising, the guard handed her back all her documents.
"Alright, I'd say everything checks out so far" he declared.
Hell yeah.
"Hey, wait a second" the slim guard cut in again, "what are those panels for?" he asked as he pointed at her ship with one of his tentacles.
Oh, shut up!
"Uh... those would be the storage room and the escape pods"
"Such a weird ship to give to your daughter as a graduation present" he insinuated with a very suspicious tone, "This looks like an aircraft specialized in cargo delivery and combat. You can tell by its shape and its defensive missiles. Not exactly the type of ship a regular young woman would fly"
"Aaahhh... you know how dads are" she shrugged, "He wanted me to be very safe and the ship to be very cheap at the same. So he kinda had to settle for whatever the used cars store had at the moment, without asking himself what I would have wanted" she explained, and it wasn't even too far off from the truth: her father had never, to her memory, really cared for what she wanted.
"You wanna see the interior too?" she asked, specifically because a direct invitation might have persuaded them from doing that.
"Hmmm... that... won't be necessary" the burly guard said, "However, I think it would be best to check the escape pods. In case you might have to use them during your stay"
... oh, no.
"It's just the escape pods, sir" she tried to dissuade him, but as soon as she said that, she realized it had been a big mistake: both of them shot her a suspicious, nasty look.
"Er, you see, they've never been cleaned, and I'm-"
"If it's just the escape pods, then why are you so nervous?" the burly guard inquired.
"I'm not nervous, sir" she lied, "It's just- I've never been searched by the police. This seems a bit excessive, so I was surprised-"
"There have been some incidents happening in this area" the slim one explained, "Security's been tighter".
Were they... talking about her? She wasn't of course the only criminal in the area, but somehow she felt like they were...
"Nothing to hide, nothing to fear, miss"
"Open the one on this side!" the slim guard pointed at one of the escape pods.
Welp. That was the one where Zim's ship was. How could have she explained an Irken ship aboard?
"... sure, sir" she nodded.
She turned, the two guards behind her. She fetched her key from one of her pockets, and turned it in its lock on the panel: the cell's door slowly slid up to reveal Zim's Voot Cruiser.
"Woah!" she heard the slim guard exclaim.
"Is that-" the burly guard breathed out in surprise and shock.
Alright, keep it cool now. Her plan now was to draw out the gun from under her jacket ,shoot one, take the other as a hostage and let them out of the station from where they'd come from; then flee, and take a secondary route like they originally were going to.
She would have probably pulled it off too, if only Zim didn't suddenly come out of the ship, yelling and shouting from its entrance above.
"HEY! What are you doing to ZiM's ship?!" he angrily shook his fists. She'd no idea how he could've noticed them opening the cell all the way from the kitchen, except maybe a sort of sixth sense for... messing up any and all plans she ever thought of.
"An Irken!" the slim one exclaimed, sounding frightened and astounded.
"What are you doing here?!" the burly one asked in a similar tone.
Here we go.
She turned around quickly, drawing out her gun, but when she did so she found that the two guards had already backed away from her, their hands raised above their heads, looking all scared and astounded.
"What the-" she looked between the two of them, confused.
"Nobody told us about this!" the slim one whispered to the other.
"I think he's traveling undercover!" the burly one whispered back.
"I knew this girl looked sketchy!"
"HELLOOO?!" Zim yelled impatient, "What were you going to do with my ship?! Driver! I thought you said there wouldn't be any problems crossing through here!"
"Problems?!" the slim one squeaked in fear.
"We didn't know this, uh... this Blerchian was your personal driver, sir!" the burly one explained with an apologetic voice, "We were just doing our regular check up! We meant no disrespect!"
"Yeah, right!" the slim one echoed, "We would have never dared if we'd known who this ship really belonged to!"
Driver looked down a moment to reflect. She wasn't exactly sure what was going on there but... damn, was she going to play along with it.
"Oh, I bet you wouldn't!" she growled, assuming an angry tone, walking a few heavy steps towards the two scared guards, "You two almost blew my... boss' cover!"
"No no no!" the slim one pleaded in horror.
"We didn't blew anything!" the burly one added, "There's no need to involve the higher-ups!"
"Hmm..." she placed a hand under the chin in a thoughtful gesture, "actually, I have half a mind to do just that"
"It was just a misunderstanding!" the burly one joined his hands and begged, "Please overlook our mistake! It would be such a waste, to undo our peace treaty over something so little!"
"Hmmm... very well, then" she said as she placed her hands on her hips, "We won't tell on you to the Irken Empire's higher-ups if you don't tell us on your higher-ups. Sounds fair?"
They two guards looked at each other, full of fear and doubt.
"But, uh-"
"We can't not report such a-"
"Listen up, dogs!" she interrupted them, "You are not going to tell a living soul what you saw today! You are going to provide both our ships with those special passes that will exclude us from further inspection! Then, we will leave your territory undisturbed, without even looking your people's way. OR. I see a hundred more Irken ships coming your way. And at that point, you will personally have to answer to the Tallest, for ruining their finest Invader's undercover mission! Right, boss?" she asked turned back to Zim.
"... Eh?" Zim blurted out in confusion, possibly even more astonished than the other two aliens.
With a subtle, quick gesture of her face, she urged him to answer.
"...Uh... What-Oh! Oh, yeah, yeah, right! What she said!" Zim finally caught on on her act.
"Ohhh... this can't be good... this isn't going to end well..." the slim one quietly despaired.
"Shut up, rat" she growled, staring with her hostile eyes into his, "Now go back in there and open the damn gate. You've made me and my boss waste enough time as it is! And be sure to use the right passes too"
"Right away!" the two guards saluted her, immediately ran off to execute her orders.
She stayed on the dock to carefully monitor them frantically install the special passes on both her ship and Zim's Cruiser- two small metal devices that glued themselves to the ships' outer shells and emitted a special type of radio waves which barred them from further controls on the Flordian government's part.
Once they were done with that, Driver finally headed back to her ship and Zim, who'd been overseeing the whole scene from the staircase's top.
"Zim, did you see that? They were terrified of you!" she whispered to him as they walked again to the control room.
"Why are you acting so surprised? Of course they were! Look at me!" he proudly puffed his chest.
"Yeah, uh- but what treaty were they talking about?" she asked as she strapped herself into her pilot seat.
"No idea" he shrugged, sitting again on his left seat.
"Are you sure? Doesn't the name 'Flord' ring any bells for you?" she asked, readying the ship for take-off.
"Ehhh... uhhh... aahhhhh..." Zim tapped the sides of his head as he struggled to rack his brains.
"Uhhhhrrr... oh, wait! Now I remember! It was on the Irken News Radio Program some months ago! The Flordians were so worried about Operation Impending Doom II, that they started paying the Empire tributes so that we wouldn't invade them!"
"... Tributes?"
"Yeah, in monies and snacks" he nodded.
"Uh... you don't say..."
The gate finally opened, allowing them to pass through the station and enter theFlordian territory; she let out a breath of relief: somehow, they'd miraculously made it through. If there wasn't a treaty going on between Irkens and Flordians, who knows what would've happened to them!
... that's right... the treaty...
'Irken allies are as useful as they are rare', Mister Krassmann's words rang in her head.
They could have laid low and headed straight out of the Flordian territory... but, if her instincts were correct (and they usually were), when else would such a golden opportunity present itself again?
"Zim..." she quietly said, "I think I have an idea. How would you feel about delaying the trip to the market by one day?"
"Uh? What? No way!" he shook his head.
"No no no, listen, Zim! I think if we play our cards right, we might be able to make a very large profit out of this!" she begged him, "AND it will probably be superfun!"
"We have enough money. We just robbed a house. And my time is running short" he tried to cut her short.
"I'm talking LOTS of money, Zim. Think of it this way: more monies equals better equipment, equals better machine"
"I think at this point I'd take doing things quicker over doing them slightly better"
"What if I told you... you could get away with ordering me around for one whole day, and I wouldn't be able to say anything in return?"
Zim's eyes widened in a sudden surge of interest.
"... Go on" he allowed.
"You're good at acting, Zim, yes? You are an infiltrator, right?"
"Well, yeah! That's basically what an Invader is!" he nodded.
Oh, man. This might actually work!
A devious grin made its way on her face; making sure that they were out of the checkpoint station's sight, she changed the course to head towards the Flordian home planet. Then she pulled out a sheet of paper from a drawer under the panel control and started writing on it.
"Alright, Zim. Get ready. We're going to need your Voot Cruiser for this".
Once they got at an apt distance from the planet, Driver managed to persuade Zim despite his doubts and reservations to let her on his Cruiser, on the condition of course that he'd be the one to pilot it; this time, she was able to dispose herself in a stance that didn't strain her spine too much inside the small space: she sat in the middle of the seat, back a bit crouched, legs wide open, with Zim seated in front of her operating the little ship.
"Okay, here it is: we're going to pretend to be collecting the due tributes to Irk. You'll be a tax collector, and I'll be your assistant!"
"Ha!" he scoffed at her, "You won't be able to fool anyone like that! Irkens don't have assistants from other races!"
"Alright, well... What do they have from other races?"
"Slaves. And prisoners. Oh, and test subjects!"
"Very well then, I guess I'll be your... slave"
"... you will?" Zim turned to look at her, cheeks darkened and antennae lowered in embarrassment.
"Eh I mean... isn't it a little too soon for that? But, I mean, if you do want to, I guess it's..."
"It's... it's an act, Zim. Remember? We're acting" she reminded him with a vague sense of disgust at… whatever it was that he was thinking about her.
Zim didn't answer, his gaze blank again.
"Zim? Are you still here with me?"
"Oh!" he suddenly jumped, and turned back again to the controls, "Yeah, sure. Sorry. My imagination took over…"
"But, uh…" he then continued, his voice unsure, "I don't know, human, wouldn't that be like… stealing from the Empire?"
"Well, uh… no! They owe monies to the Irken Empire. And you are part of the Irken Empire. That means they're rightfully yours, doesn't it?"
"Uh… when you put it that way..." he reflected, "I AM the most incredible Irken ever. Of course they'd want to tribute me especially! I bet the Tallest would totally approve of it!"
"That's the spirit!"she cheered him on.
"Now, choose a place on the planet that's isolated, small, and where it's evening. That way, it will be easier for our… extraction to go unreported. Do you have access to the local time?"
"Well... I can easily hijack the local satellite to obtain such information" he said as pushed some buttons on the control panel.
"Wow, really? That's impressive. Irken technology is amazing"
"Hehehe" Zim chuckled with pride, "it's the same system I used to navigate on Earth, too!"
They entered the atmosphere of the planet with no problem thanks to the pass the two guard had installed on the Cruiser. Getting closer and closer to the surface, she noticed that reminded her a lot of Earth, with lots of natural areas (a lot for the alien average anyway) in between the conglomerates of buildings.
Zim locked the course on a small town surrounded by the purple vegetation. Local hour 7:43 pm, close to the closing time of the local supermarket. Perfect.
They parked the Voot Cruiser in the near-empty parking lot in front of it and boarded off: it was a short building, pretty much identical to an Earth supermarket, only of an unusual pink color.
"Okay, Zim. Ready for show time? We go in, you first: make the clients exit the building. Then ask the employees for the whole day's earnings"
"Me?" Zim retorted, "Why me?"
"You're the Irken master, aren't you? So give 'em the old Irken razzle-dazzle you're always telling me about!"
Zim winced in disgust.
"Razzle-dazzle? Is... is that a dirty word?"
"Pfff-WHAT!" she burst out laughing, "Hah, look, just- just act like you normally would on any mission! Just be your usual grumpy, violent Irken self! I'm sure you'll do great! The trick is startling them before they're able to think logically! And the trick to do that is to have fun! Just have fun, Zim! And if any of your words fail, I'll be there to provide proper… support" she smirked as she drew out from her side a special weapon she'd snatched from under her ship's control panel right before boarding off.
"... a club?" he asked.
"Zim, I prefer to call it a..." she swung her club in the air, making it do a 'whooosh' sound, "… 'persuader'"
"That's... primitive. You already have a gun. What do you need that for?"
Driver placed a hand on Zim's shoulder, and patiently explained:
"It's not about the raw destructive power, Zim. It's about the spectacle. A gun is common, anonymous, refined. A club is atypical, brutal, and personal, in the way it extends the reach of my arms. In other words, it's much more likely to freak out the people inside! It is irrational to be more afraid of a club than a gun, but right now, we need them to be irrational in order for this scam- uhm, tribute collection to work. 'You following me?"
"Oooh" Zim placed a pensive hand under his chin,"Yeah, I can see the appeal! Like when you stomp on the enemy mecha with your own mecha leg rather than shooting it, so that you may assert your dominance by posing dramatically upon its stomped body!"
"Precisely" she nodded.
Seemingly convinced, Zim finally stepped towards the supermarket.
They passed through the automatic doors: it was a pretty small store. There were three checkouts in front of them, with about ten clients around them waiting in line for their turns.
They stood there in the entrance for a few moments. The first one to notice them was a client lady: she was about to put a glass bottle on the middle checkout's roller, when she caught a glimpse of Zim; her eyes widened in shock and she dropped the bottle: it fell onto the side of the roller and then on the floor, splashing its continent everywhere. The other clients and workers were shaken from their tasks and looked up: most looked over in the direction of the noise, but others noticed Zim as well: they proceeded to have the same, shocked reaction as the first woman, and soon enough the whole supermarket was staring at him, paralyzed in fear. Someone even gasped 'An Irken'! under their breath.
They were all completely immobile, as if they were waiting for a clue from Zim; Zim, on the other hand, seemed to be a bit intimidated by that exaggerated reaction: he briefly looked up at her, seeking for her encouragement.
Driver looked down and shared his gaze; she smiled and winked at him.
That seemed to reassure him: he assumed a more confident stance, and held out the false permit she'd scribbled back on the ship:
"People of this filthy Flordian supermarket! Surrender the earnings of this undeserving establishment as the due tributes to the mighty Irken Empire!" he shouted; the volume was on point, but the tone was a bit stiff.
The people kept staring at them, dead quiet, like they'd been turned into stone.
Alright. Angry face time. She raised the club, holding it with two hands: she swung it down and hit the floor as hard as she could; the tile below broke under her hit, and everybody in the store jumped at that loud noise, including Zim.
"Have you NOT heard him?!" she barked. She raised the bat again and pointed it at them like it was a pistol, "All the shoppers! OUT! Out out out before I bash your teeth in!"
The clients immediately took off, letting out strangled, frightened shrieks, and ran to the doors behind them, trying to stay as away from them as possible.
"And you better not alert ANY authorities. MUCH less news outlets" she warned them before they could exit, "This is a top secret government operation. We know your faces".
Only one client didn't immediately run away: he timidly raised his hand, as if they were in school, and asked her with a trembling voice:
"Can I bring my groceries?"
Driver stared at him, face neutral.
"Or... or uhm... can I come back later to take them with me? I-I was already paying, and-"
Slowly, she walked to the checkout the man was at, the one on her left, eyes fixed in his. She looked at the groceries on the roller. Then back at him. Then back at them. Using the club, she slowly pushed the articles on the roller onto the ground: they fell in the space between the left and middle checkouts with a series of loud, unpleasant sounds, the glass objects shattering and splashing their contents on top of each other. The man and the cashiers stared impotently at the scene, full of disbelief and fright.
Driver looked back at the man; she swung the bat back up and hit the empty roller with it, making him jump.
"Try and guess" she hissed.
The man cowered from her, ran all the way to the aisle between the middle and right checkouts and finally ran out the supermarket. As she followed him with her eyes, she noticed that Zim was looking at her with stupefied, impressed eyes. She smiled at him; then turned to the three cashiers.
"Come on, now. Don't make the master wait" she growled.
"Y-You can't do it!" one male cashier from the right checkout weakly protested, "This is robbery. When the manager finds out..."
"Are you calling us thieves?" she exclaimed, feigning indignation. She looked over at Zim, signaling him with her eyes to take word.
"Eh... yeah!" Zim shouted, "How dare you! Know your place, Flordian-filth! This is part of our treaty! It's just tribute collection!"
"B-but we pay them with taxes-" the female cashier from the middle checkout tried to speak.
"Well, duh!" she interrupted her, "You're going to detract this from your taxes! Just ask your uh... mayor? Sindacate? Whatever you have on this planet. They'll handle it."
"But how are we going to know the amount if we haven't count-"
"SILENCE! More monies less talking!" Zim urged her.
"You heard him!" she echoed.
From underneath the left checkout, she drew out a plastic bag and held it out Zim; he picked it by the handles.
"Now" she pointed at the bag with the club, "Form a line and empty the checkouts into the bag".
The cashiers looked at each other, doubtful and fearful. In the end, the one on the left picked up the checkout's content and carried it to Zim, eyes down. The other two reluctantly followed suit.
"This isn't right... nobody warned us this would happen..." he murmured.
"This is a secret operation" Driver condescendingly explained. "Oh, and about that. You aren't allowed to file the report for the taxes until tomorrow, at 8 am local time. At least. And of course: the do-not-alert-local-authorities rule counts for you too".
One by one, they emptied the checkouts' contents into the bag, which Zim was eagerly exposing. He looked at her, and they exchanged an excited look. She'd known that some minimum wage workers would ultimately not care enough to fight for the earnings of their bosses: choosing a supermarket had been an admittedly excellent idea on her part.
Once they were done, Zim loaded the bag onto his shoulder, and they left.
"Thank you for your cooperation" Driver smirked at them before turning to the automatic doors, "Have a good night!"
"Hehehe! Yeah! 'Thank you'!" Zim cackled loudly.
Once they were in the parking lot and close to the Cruiser, Zim made a little jump from the excitement:
"Wow, human!" he beamed "I didn't know you had that in you!"
"Was that Irken enough for you?" she asked with a smug tone.
"That was surprisingly close! And look how much we made!" he happily shook the bag.
"Hmmm... about 3,000 monies, I'd say"
"What? Just that?" he asked, suddenly disappointed. They looked more to him because of the amount of coins, but she'd learned to tell the approximate amount of monies by eye.
"Don't worry. Keep this up, and we'll managed to make at least another 20k by tonight's- er, today's end" she grinned at him.
She pressed a button on the Cruiser's side, and boarded on through the opening screen.
"Come on, babe. Let's search for another place like this"
Zim stared at her, confused and perplexed:
"What did you just call me?"
The success of the first operation filled Zim with enthusiasm and excitement.
Soon after, they found another, similar supermarket to rob in the nearby area. Again, they parked the Cruiser in front of it; Driver walked to the automatic entrance first: with a slight bow, she drew a series of circles in the air with her club, and neared it to the doors, so that they would open.
"After you, master" she smirked at him.
Zim smiled evilly as he walked towards her: he looked infinitely more confident. She could tell by how he walked. Say what you want about his limited stature or his adorable little face, but by his way of walking you could really tell he was a soldier, with his decisive, intimidating way of stomping his feet on the ground.
Zim stepped the door and she followed him; the place was similar in size to the previous one, but there were more people in it.
"People of this wretched Flordian supermarket!" he shouted in a military tone, positioning himself in a stable, spread-legs stance: everybody jumped to attention.
"I have come from the mighty Irken Empire with my human-"
"Say 'Blerchian'" she whispered to him.
"-with my Blerchian slave! In the name of the peace and friendship between our two races, I will now collect all the monies in the checkouts of this puny establishment, as per my tribute collector duty!" he shouted, presenting the fake document and the bag to the people.
"And throw in your wallets too!" she added, raising the club above her head.
"Yeah, what she said! MOVE! Form a line! AND BOW!" he shouted.
Now that he was taking charge more decisively, the people were quicker to follow his orders: although panicked and frightened, this time the people meekly formed a line with not even a protest.
Driver took place on one side of the row, trying to assume a threatening expression, throwing a scowling look at everyone who looked at her, club well in sight.
It had been quite some time since she'd had the chance to order around a bunch of people. Of course, it was way more fun when it was people in power, like authorities, the rich, or cops, but this still pretty fun; Zim too seemed to be quite enthusiastic about somebody bowing down before him and following his orders; probably way more than she was. She was more interested in the monies anyway.
"Gyahahahaha! Yes, YES, surrender your worthless monies to your Irken overlords! Let me bask in the puny light of your inherent inferiority! Hahahaha!" Zim maniacally boasted.
She couldn't help but smile at him: such a charming, sweet evil laughter he had. And such an over-the-top expressions. She really wished Irkens could have partners publicly: if they could, she would have immediately picked him up and kissed him right in front of everybody.
From her judgement, that second heist had been more fruitful than the first one, but they still have quite the run before they could reach the goal of 20,000 monies.
In the end, they visited another four places like that, all with similar results but the last one: as their last prey, Driver picked a slightly bigger place than the other, this time one that was almost all closed already. Not an ideal choice, but at that point they'd spent hours on the planet, and she had seen people in the background snatching photos of them and sending messages in secret during the two latest operations: they didn't have a lot of time before word would get to the authority and they'd realize a bunch of their stores had been scammed by two foreigners.
As they approached that bigger supermarket, the Cruiser hidden among the bushes of a park next to it, they came upon a security guard dressed in a similar fashion as the other two on the space station. When he saw Zim, he gave them the same old surprised and horrified all the other people had.
"No need to panic, sir!" she greeted him with a jovial smile, "Sorry to disturb you at such a late hour, but we're here for a tribute collection job. Just step aside and disable the security system for us, please".
Surprisingly, the guard didn't budge, standing right in his place in front of the supermarket. If anything, he looked even calmer than before.
"I was never notified of a tribute collector coming here in person".
"You dare speak against us?!" Zim shouted "Step aside, guardian-drone! This is a direct order from the Irken higher-ups!", he held out the fake document.
"May I see it?" the guard asked, extending his hand towards him.
Zim's bravado quickly vanished, surprised at the guard's calm reaction. Dubious and unsure, he looked once again at her for advice.
Masters don't look for help from their slaves, she thought.
She looked up at the sky, pretending to be talking to herself:
"I don't see why we shouldn't show it to him".
Zim handed the fake permit to the guard.
"This is hand-written" the guard immediately, bluntly pointed out.
"The printer was broken. That's why we are collecting an emergency tribute early"" she explained condescendingly.
"This doesn't seem official" the guard continued, "'The Irken Empire requires you all to surrender an early tribute to our two delegates, the tax collector Zam and his Blerchian assistant slave, Sharice'" he read the sheet.
"We know what that says, old man" she growled.
"Why is 'assistant' crossed off?" the guard asked.
"It was a typo. Happens all the time when you write by hand"
"Yeah! And- HEY! Why did you spell my name wrong?" Zim asked.
"Er-!" she turned to him, thrown-off, "Master Zam, that's your name. I didn't spell it wrong!"
"What are talking abou-OH! Ohhh, I get it. It's a fake name you made up! So if they find out we are lying, they can't trace our names back!" Zim laughed off.
Driver and the guard both stared at him, dumbfounded.
Oh, baby. Why do you forget to think at the worst possible times?
"Oh. So that's how it is" the guard commented.
Zim gasped, finally realizing his mistake.
"Uhm- eh- never mind what I just said!" he stammered, "J-just let us in!"
An angry, disapproving look on his face, the guard folded the fake permit and ripped the paper in smaller and smaller pieces as he spoke:
"Do you have any idea what kind of damage you are doing?! You two are playing with the precarious balance of this very Universe! You just put at risk the lives of all the people on this planet! Taking advantage of their trust and their fears! Don't you have an ounce of shame in yourselves? If you did, you would immediately surrender all those monies back to the honest people you stole them from! And even if you did, you would still have to answer for your actions not only to the Flordian State and the Irken Empire alike, but to the very Great Ruler of all Life himself! Do not be foolish- there is no running away from your crimes, one way or another! Not even in the afterlife! What do you have to say for yourselves?"
After that last sentence, he threw the little pieces of paper in their faces.
Driver and Zim looked guiltily at pieces of paper slowly falling to the ground. They looked at each other. They looked back at the guard.
Driver swung her club up and hit the guard right into the left side of his face: spills of violet blood flew in the air; he spun on himself twice, then fell on the pavement, completely still.
Zim turned to stare at her, mouth agape.
"S-Sorry" she stuttered, her breath short from the sudden rush of adrenaline, club still held high, "I-I panicked"
"You... should... panic all the time" Zim murmured with dreamy eyes.
"Come on, hold this for me" she handed the club to Zim and started dragging the guard by his feet inside the supermarket, out of any possible looks from the residents. Using his keys and his pass card, they managed to enter the closed supermarket without making any of the alarms sound.
Of course, inside was pitch black; but since it was best not to turn on the lights and alert someone of their presence, they used the built-in flashlight from Zim's PAK to see.
Thankfully, the guard was just unconscious, and not actually dead like she'd originally thought: she felt guilty about hitting him. He was just doing his job, and he even wasn't all that wrong in his speech. When they left, she would have called an ambulance for him.
When they found the supermarket's storage room, they taped his hands, feet and mouth, and took away his shock gun, leaving him there for the time being.
As they made their way to the office where the safe supposedly was, Zim wielded her club in the air, feeling its weight.
"This is quite light. I'm surprised you could swing it that way and deal such hits. Is it metal?" he asked.
"Actually, it's lacquered wood"
"What, really? This is made of wood?" he said, looking genuinely impressed.
"Earth wood is light, but hard" she nodded.
"... can I... try it?" he timidly asked.
"Sure!" she smiled.
She knelt beside him; "Here" she said, as she placed his hands in the right places on the club. "Keep your balance low. Part your legs" she instructed as she gently nudged his legs with her hands.
"Now twist your torso like this" she placed her hands on his hips, making his torso rotate to his right. Then, she raised his arms up to his eye level. Then, she got back on her feet and backed away a bit.
"Now swing!"
Zim swung the bat with such force he almost lost his balance; it cleaved the air, provoking a rustling sound.
"Oooh! I like the sound it makes!" he exclaimed as he swung it twice more.
"Good! Now hit something!" she encouraged him.
He looked around him and found a pile of neatly ordered metal cans; he got close, repeated the movements she'd shown him, and hit the pile: it exploded in a myriad of cans, which hit and rolled all over the floor.
"Right on!" she cheered him on clapping her hands.
From a shelf, she grabbed a small, square carton.
"Hey Zim!" she called his attention, "Try and hit this!" she threw it at him from down up, gently and slowly; showing an impressive aptitude, he managed to hit it, and the little carton box flew up, hitting the dark ceiling above them and disappearing behind one of the high shelves.
"A home run on your first hit! You're a natural!"
"Hehe, thank you!" Zim chuckled, resting the club on one of his shoulders, "There is no tool of destruction I cannot use!"
Excited to find something else to hit with the club, she looked around and in the dark she caught a glimpse of something very interesting: a shopping cart.
"Oooh, Zim! Zim look! Look!" she took one of the carts out of its line and showed it to him like she'd just found an invaluable treasure, "Hop in, dude!"
Amused, Zim used his PAK legs to climb into the shopping chart. Driver placed herself behind it and started pushing it, with Zim swinging the bat left and right, knocking everything that stood in his way off its shelf.
This was so, so stupid. And juvenile. And dangerous, as the only light they were using was Zim's flashlight, but that only served to make the situation even more absurd and hilarious; way more than it must have appeared from the outside, anyway.
Zim's absurd shouting wasn't helping in that regard either:
"Out of the way! Surrender to the mighty club of doom! This planet is mine! Hahahaha! Faster! Go faster, my slave!" he shrilled as he knocked boxes and bottles and cans and entire shelves down.
If I or the cart trip over something it's gonna hurt so bad, the rational part of her mind thought, and yet somehow the sound of a bunch of unidentified objects falling in the dark around her, combined with Zim's enthusiastic laughter and the overall ridiculousness of that whole situation made it seem like a risk worth taking: she herself was almost in tears from laughing.
"Hahaha! Oh, my GOD, Zim, I-I can't see, hahaha! We're going to CRASH! Oh- hey, wait, wait, wait!"
As they passed through the alcohol aisle, she hastily halted the cart's ride to look at the dimly-lighted bottles.
"Oh, come onnn! One more lap!" Zim whined.
"Sorry, man. Your stamina is too much for my weak human lungs" she said as she examined a bottle of red wine: that was some real fancy stuff. Better stockpile it while she could...
She picked five different bottles of the most expensive, tastier wine she found in the shelves and placed them in the cart, next to Zim and their plastic bag full of monies.
Zim looked carefully at the bottles. Then, he turned to her:
"Hey, are you hungry?", he asked.
"Hmmm... actually... yes" she answered: it was almost the time for their designated 'lunch hour'.
"What would you like to eat? Take you pick!... among the things we didn't destroy"
Zim pointed his index to the sky (ceiling?), and ordered:
"Human! Drive me to the snack aisle!"
Driver giggled, and pushed again the shopping chart, albeit at a much slower pace: it didn't take long before they reached the snack aisle, in the part of the supermarket that they still hadn't rampaged through. Of course, because there were no chairs around, they had to sit down to consume their rather unhealthy meal.
They must have looked like the most... nonsensical robbers ever: sitting on the floor, surrounded by snacks and five bottles of expensive wine, a plastic, ripped shopping bag full of money in a shopping cart, still giddy by the havoc they'd wreaked on the supermarket.
"You know, this reminds me of the first month I spent on my own in space" she reminisced as she opened a big bag of chips to share with him, "I ate nothing but junk food for a month. Then I finally learnt how to grow spinach in my garden. My intestines never forgave me for that, though..."
"What do you mean 'junk' food?" Zim asked her, taking a big handful of chips from the back, "I eat this stuff all the time! It's just your human intestines that are weak!"
"Oh, excuse me if we didn't evolve a trash compactor for a stomach like you aliens" she smirked.
When she grew tired of the chips, she started munching on a bar whose taste vaguely reminded her of chocolate, and she began counting the monies: in the end, it amounted to about 17,584. With what was in the safe of this last supermarket, they would no doubt reach their goal of 20k.
"Wow, we were so good!" she beamed as she finished counting.
"Gotta hand it to you human, this was a very good idea!" Zim convened, crumpling up the now empty chip bag.
"Did you have any doubts about it? Just stick with me, Zim, and you'll be filthy rich in no time!" she boasted.
As they searched the floor for a new snack to eat, their hands landed on the same, caramel-and-chocolate Twinkie bar. Slowly, they raised their heads to look at one another.
"Human. That's the last Twinkie" Zim spoke slowly.
"I can see that" she nodded..
"So?"
"'So' what?"
"So hand it over" he pulled it towards himself. She pulled it back.
"I don't think so, mister."
"I am the master of the whole operation" Zim growled.
"I thought of the whole operation"
"Without me, the operation wouldn't ever have been possible!"
"Yes, well... I have more chromosomes than you!"
"More chromosomes than me and that's the most you managed to do with them?" he taunted her.
"I'm not the one who needs to be plugged to a life support twenty four seven"
"OH! Ohohoh, that was really low, Blerch-human"!
"No, it wasn't. But this is"
"What is- HYAHAHA!"
Her hand shot to his neck and wiggled her fingers; Zim immediately fell back on the floor with a half-shriek, half-laughter yelp. And even though he let the snack go, she doubled down on him anyway, tickling him both in his neck and in belly.
"AAAHHAHA! What-hahaha-s-stop! Stop! I-I said-stop-STOP! Hahaha!" he laughed, rolling on one side to try and escape her attack.
Maybe it was just because of his over-dramatic, overly-touchy nature, but he sounded like he was genuinely suffering under her touch; she drew back her hands from him, and he curled on the floor, knees to his chest, arms crossed, trembling and panting like she was just done torturing him.
"How-HOW DARE YOU DEFILE ZIM'S BODY LIKE THAT?!" he shouted indignantly.
"That's what you get for challenging me" she retorted, picking up the Twinkie bar, "Also, please... don't use that type of words. I just tickled you. Human kids do that to play"
"How is that playing?! It was horrifying!" Zim protested.
"You know how it is:", she shrugged, "it's funny when it happens to someone else" she grinned smugly at him.
She was about to open and eat the snack, but noticed that Zim was staring at her, like he was like studying her attentively.
She returned his stare for a few seconds. Then, she understood what his intentions were.
"... no way. Don't you DARE do tha-"
Zim viciously threw himself at her neck, imitating her movements with his own hands.
"NO!" she let out a shrill scream, "How dare you! Betrayal! Betra-hahahah!" , as he attacked her stomach, she curled and rolled on the floor away from him. Still giggling, she held out the Twinkie with a shivering arm:
"I surrender. Just take it"
"HA!" Zim wasted no time and snatched the candy bar from her hand, "How could you possibly think of defeating ZiM, a trained soldier, in direct combat, uh?!" he boasted. He ripped the plastic wrapping off the snack and took a triumphant bite out of it.
"Ahhh... defeated by my own technique" she miserably rolled back in front of him. She raised a hand, putting it behind his head to guide his gaze down to her.
"You keep your candy. I'll have myself some real sugar"
She stretched her head up, and kissed him; sucking on his lips, she could taste the chocolate and the caramel he'd just eaten. It wasn't probably the most comfortable position for him to kiss her, but as she recalled it'd been quite a while since they last made out- a whole two days, a true record for them-, so he eagerly returned her kiss anyway.
They kissed like that for a little while, until she couldn't taste the snack on him anymore.
"Hehehe. You taste like chocolate" she then giggled against his lips.
Zim seemed to be quite embarrassed by that; he drew back from her, stammering:
"Th-that's just the Twinkie! I told you not to do that stuff while I'm eating!"
"It's fine. I liked it" she whispered, rolling on her left side and getting up on one elbow. "Chocolate or not, you always taste sweet to me. Makes me wanna devour you"
"Er-uh-what, d-did you really turn into a cannibal in the end?" he asked, but judging from his reaction he probably understood that her words were just metaphorical: he just didn't know how to respond to them.
"For you? Definitely. If you were a snack, I'd eat you whole"
"Stop that- I'm too big for you to do that anyway!"
She took a glance at his crotch. Then looked back at his face.
"Sorry, but I highly doubt that, dude" she smirked, wiggling her eyebrows.
"OH, ALRIGHT! Have the stupid Twinkie!" he shoved it in her face, "Your disgusting, creepy words have spoiled my appetite!"
She waved his hand with the candy away.
"Nah, Zim. You earned it. You did a very good job today" she assumed a more serious tone, and finally sat upright. "I'll eat something else"
"... Didn't you want the Twinkie?" he asked.
"If you want it, I'll gladly leave it to you"
Zim let out a deep breath; then, he broke the Twinkie at its half, giving her the two parts he hadn't chewed on.
"You did half of the job. You get half of the stupid candy" he said as he handed it over to her, "You made a very impressive Blerchian slave today, human"
Driver looked incredulous at his generous offer. That was... new. And nice. Very nice. She took the piece of candy from his hand and ate it.
"I thought you didn't like 'trash food'" Zim pointed out.
"Sometimes even trash is good" she shrugged.
"You know, human. You make no sense"
"How so?"
"First, you say you only like eco-biologic food or whatever. Then, it turns out you like trash food too. Sometimes, you are so sweet and kind it makes me want to throw up. Then, you turn around and hit people with a club! And so on and so on! You look like two different people in one body!"
"Oh?" she said in a suave voice, "And which part turns you on the most?"
"I'm being serious" he frowned, "Just, who are you really?"
"Eh... uhhh" that was actually a pretty difficult question. She'd never really thought much about it.
"Let's just say I am... whoever I feel like being at any given moment"
"But there must be something you prefer! Like- what do you prefer, good or evil?"
"Hmm… I get your point, but... I don't want to settle for either. It isn't as weird as you think. Most people have an equal amount of good and evil in them. They just feel compelled to follow one or the other due to their circumstances"
"Not me! There's not a single trace of good in me!" Zim firmly stated, arms crossed on his chest.
"I know there isn't, Zim" she reassured him, trying to sound sincere, "But for many people, including me, that's the reality of the matter"
"But, how do you know how to best act? Like, how do you know what's the right thing to do in any given situation?"
Damn. How prying he was today. What'd gotten into him? Was he suddenly... interested in her? Well, that did flatter her but... she also wasn't used to all that attention on his part.
"I don't, to be honest. Mostly, I just, y'know... follow my instincts, I guess? Sometimes instead, I think of what God would want of me. Sometimes, I ignore it anyway, and tell him I'll make up for it later. And sometimes, I genuinely forget to think of it in the first place. I swear" she crossed her chest, looking up at the ceiling.
Zim looked in the same direction, as if expecting for God to really be there.
"You make absolutely no sense whatsoever, woman", Zim repeated with a defeated voice.
"Am I not more interesting that way?" she smirked.
"… yeah… you kinda are" Zim murmured.
"Hey, human?" he suddenly asked.
"Yes?"
"Why don't you really become my slave?"
"Uh-WHAT?!" she exclaimed.
"I'm serious! Think about it!" he excitedly explained, like he'd just gotten the most wonderful idea, "Every day will be like this: nothing but pillaging, and destroying, and maiming! I think you'd like it a lot! Plus, that way the other Irkens wouldn't be weirded out by seeing me and you being together! Eh... except the weird, gross kissing stuff. That would still weird them out. And it's too early for that not to be a secret. BUT! Traitors-to-their-own-races-types of slaves are extremely privileged! And you wouldn't be under any Irken either! You'd be under ZiM! You'd be set for life!"
"Oh, my. Zim. Is this really the Irken version of a proposal?" she asked, embarrassed.
"Uh… yeah? I'm proposing to you to be my slave, yes"
Zim stared at her with big, hopeful, innocent eyes. Even though the concept of slavery disgusted her to her very core, she found it difficult to say no to such a pretty face.
Besides, even if it was just about collaborating with this Empire of his, she knew better than to involve herself into politics directly: it was way too dangerous. Especially for criminals, who as a general rule could really only trust a few people among their own kind.
And beside even all of that, from what Zim had told her… she didn't like the Irken Empire. At all. Zim seemed endlessly devoted to it, so maybe in many ways they did treat him right. He seemed to be a rather important figure there too-though he'd probably embellished a lot of those details. But, unbeknownst to Zim himself, their culture had also left him extremely damaged, teaching him to be inherently ashamed of his feelings of love, and attraction, and everything else that they deemed a 'weakness'. Truly, the more she learned about the Empire, the more she could trace Zim's bizarre (for lack of a better word) reactions to very basic emotions back to its teachings and rules. And she found harder and harder not to resent it for that.
But, she recognized that this wasn't the place nor the time for a political discussion. Maybe she'd manage to convince Zim that his Empire was actually not that good for him later down the line. And It would probably take a long time, too.
Therefore, for the time being, she tried to avoid that whole discussion:
"Zim. I'll never be anybody's slave. Not even yours. As advantageous as that might be. It's my pride that tells me so"
"Oh, come on! Wouldn't it be better than being under that Mister Krass-monst-"
"Imply that I'm the Boss' slave again and I'll chew on your face" she growled.
Zim widened his eyes in fear, his antennae dropping behind his head.
"Uh-"
"BESIDES, wouldn't it be kind of a downgrade to be reduced to nothing but your slave? Now that we're finally friends?" she continued.
"Friends?! Irkens have no FRIENDS!"
"Oh, come on Zim" she rolled her eyes, "you can't even concede me friendship? We cuddled. Had an heart to heart. Saved each other's lives. Robbed a bunch of supermarkets together. That's the textbook definition of friendship!"
"Is not!" he pouted.
"Well, what's the equivalent of friendship in Irken?"
"Uh... well... I suppose the closest thing would be 'alliance'"
"Well, then! I'll be your official first human ally and infiltrator-informant on Earth! Sounds good?"
"Not as good as being my slave, but… close enough I guess" Zim reflected.
"On one condition" she raised her finger.
"Condition?" Zim asked suspiciously.
"Gimme a kiss" she puckered her lips.
"... human, we just kissed-"
"Kiss me or NO alliance"
Zim huffed in annoyance. He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on her cheek.
"What am I, your grandmother? Kiss me properly" she complained.
"You know that thing about gnawing my face? I can do that too" he threatened her.
"That's close enough. I'll take it" she smiled, closing her eyes and offering him her face.
Zim grabbed her cheeks and pulled her towards him, pressing his lips strongly against hers; then, he drew back, sucking on her upper lip.
"There. Was that enough un-grandmother-like for you?"
"A deal's a deal, mister" she nodded and held out her hand.
He took it and shook it.
Driver got up and fetched two bottles of wine from the shopping cart; she popped one open, using her swiss knife.
"Come on, Zim, have a toast with me! We gotta celebrate!"
Zim frowned.
"I told you. I will never have another drop of alcohol after what happened that night"
"I distinctly remember you chocking on some wine to impress me and Mister Krassmann at-"
"ZiMdidnosuchthing. The puny mass of flesh between your ears must be malfunctioning" Zim quickly interrupted her.
"Come on, man. It's our first proper date!"
"'Date'? What do you mean?"
"You know, it's like... when two people who like each other...'s company spend some quality time together somewhere, doing something fun! Come onnnn, please? Just one sip? For me?" she blinked her eyelashes at him. "This is the sweet kind that you like so much! You won't get drunk again, I promise!" she handed him one of the bottles.
Hesitantly, he took it in his hand.
"... okay. But just one sip".
"Oh, right on!" she beamed.
With one hand, she raised her bottle high:
"To the mighty Irken Empire, which indirectly founded this expedition. May our… alliance continue for the centuries to come! Or, well. Considering my probable lifespan, for the next sixty years!"
She threw her head back and gobbled up a good portion of the wine. Zim instead, took a teensy, wittle sip out of his own bottle, shivering a little at the alcohol pouring down his throat.
As she smiled at him, and it hit her, the thought:
Oh my God. That's my boyfriend over there. I have a boyfriend now. Who would have ever thought?
"What are you staring at?" he asked her.
"Just thinking how attractive and handsome and perfect my Irken ally is"
"Hah... I see..." he looked away, blushing.
"And pretty and cute and awesome..."
"Okay, that's enough-"
"And incredible, and gorgeous, and-"
"I get that, human! Don't tell me what I already know!" he sharply stood up.
"Don't we have one last safe to empty? Let's go"
"Right behind you, my tiny, bashful ally" she smiled has she stood up as well, picking her club back up from the floor.
"Enough with the mockery!" he hissed, "You know, I still think 'master' would be the most apt word for you to refer to me as!"
"It's either 'ally' or 'boyfriend', dude" she shook her head, "Your choice"
"… are all the women from your race as insufferable as you are?" he asked her.
She giggled, resting her club back on her shoulder.
"Only the best ones", she winked at him.