Dib couldn't help the smile still plastered on his face as the elevator rose. "Our smeet…" Something about the phrasing just made his chest hum like the Voot when it had just finished charging. They were really making something together. Okay, so Zim was doing most of the hard part, but Dib was having to deal with him being weirder than normal, and that wasn't nothing.

Zim's boots squeaked as he leaned against the little rail on the wall, the green of his skin washed out under the industrial light in the elevator. He yawned, and Dib yawned along with him, mouth closing before he'd even realized that it had opened. He probably should catch up on his sleep one of these days. Well, he'd gotten about five hours, that was pretty good. He was an adult now, adults needed less, right? Well, eighteen was still technically a teen too, so he was straddled on that weird line between teenhood and adulthood. Ah well.

Anyways. Zim's left antenna twitched as the elevator slowed to a stop in the living room, and he made his way over to the kitchen table, plopping his chin down on it.

"How long will this take?"

"About fifteen minutes." Dib opened the cabinets, letting out a sigh of relief- Gir hadn't gotten to the pancake mix. It was a good thing that he liked waffles too- it was possible he didn't want to ruin his own supply.

He plugged in the waffle iron and pulled out the applesauce and vegetable oil, fighting back another yawn- ugh, waking up before 9 am should be made into a crime. He'd only been out of hi skool for a couple of months and already didn't know how he'd survived it.

Honestly, he didn't remember falling asleep last night. He must have been more tired than he'd thought- at least he hadn't woken up with keyboard imprints in his cheeks like he'd done a dozen times before. It was starting to wear at the lettering on the keys themselves, along with the oils from his hands. This laptop had lasted two years, a personal record for him. Although that was probably because he'd bought back-ups for when he was in the field…

Man, he hadn't been able to go out and hunt anything for months , between work and Zim's pregnancy. He needed to do that soon, Tunaghost had made him promise her to get in contact at some point. He needed to keep the lines of communication open or she might dump the bombshell about him being with Zim, and they liked her more than they liked him, so they'd believe it.

Dib looked down and realized he'd beaten the batter pretty thoroughly.

Behind Dib, Zim was scratching into the table. When Dib turned around, he was picking at the wood, little shavings curling up under his glove. It was still weird to see his bare arms, especially since they were so blank . (Dib's own arms were pretty scarred up from years of fights with various paranormal creatures, and sometimes particularly aggressive bullies.) He had that alien healing factor from the Pak but… still, it was kind of unfair. Not for the first time, Dib wondered if he could get the benefits of a Pak without the whole 'die in ten minutes' thing. They still needed to finish one up for the kid, he'd have to study more on it. Maybe he could slow his aging down or something, that would be neat. Zim had barely changed in seven years, and the bomb he'd dropped about his age… the idea of Zim looking the same as he did now next to a stooped-over, gray-haired version of himself made Dib shudder.

Zim's antennae were still hanging kind of low, and Dib clicked his tongue.

"You okay? You were super freaked out when you were still asleep."

" 'M fine." Zim mumbled.

"Last time, you seemed to get over it fast but you're still being mopey a few minutes later." Dib held up the spoon, slicing through the air. "Is it because I was in it? 'Cutty'- it was something about dissecting you or the kid, wasn't it?"

Zim snarled, which meant that Dib had hit the nail right on the head.

"I'm not going to, for the record. I'm not going to dissect a kid, that's just sick, and- well, I guess if worst comes to worst I'd probably cut you open, but that's something that even humans do to each other if a baby isn't coming out right-"

Zim lobbed the small plastic squirrel Gir had been using as a table decoration at Dib's head, and it almost landed in the batter. "Hey!"

"Shut your noise-hole."

"I'm trying to help, sheesh." Dib had caught the squirrel with his elbow and flicked it unto the counter.

"Would you want to hear about being cut open two minutes after feeling it happen?" Zim ground out, and Dib was about to reply before the actual words sunk in.

Oh.

"No," He admitted, feeling sort of like there was a rock in his guts. "I guess not."

"Just make me my waffles." Zim returned his chin to the table, picking at the wood again. He started making a little pile of the shavings. Dib stuck his tongue out in concentration, folding the batter over itself. When it looked to be the right amount lumpy consistency, he rummaged around in the cabinet again.

"Aha! Almost forgot."

"What? What is it?" Zim looked up, and Dib held up a half-finished container of oreos.

"I always mix in a few of these at home." Dib crumbled three cookies into the batter, stirring it again until it sort of looked like gooier cookie dough ice cream, then poured about a fourth of it into the waffle iron.

"Perhaps you have some taste." Zim admitted, and Dib smirked.

"Of course I do. How's junior doing?"

"Settled down a little." Zim said. "Although I suspect they'll be active again once I've had my-" His eyes widened. "The mutation!"

"What?" Dib crossed the kitchen in two strides, grabbing Zim's shoulders. "When did- what? "

"I had the Pak do a scan, and it said that there were mutations inside of the spooch!"

Dib swallowed. "What kind?"

"I don't know!"

"Can you- can't we make another hologram like the ultrasound but on the inside?" It was mutated. Of course it was, it was hybridizing a very alien species with humans- and a human who already was a clone to boot, so who knew what kind of health problems he'd have hidden deep in his DNA besides his bad eyesight? Yeah, Dad had promised he'd fix that kind of thing if it popped up, but still- still it was going to be there!

Zim nodded. "We can certainly try."

Dib grabbed his wrist, dragging him towards the elevator again. Zim didn't resist, hurrying along with him across the neon tiles.

The ride down felt like eons, every moment ticking by with Dib's heart beating heavily in his chest and Zim tugging at the fabric of his shirt.

"You're going to be fine, I swear I didn't deal with any other smeets that made as much trouble before their first year as you, and you aren't even born yet…!"

They hurried towards the med bay again, Zim climbing on top of one of the tables.

"Computer-"

"Yeah, I heard you upstairs. Give me a second." The scanner popped out of the wall, the shade a slightly darker pink than Dib remembered it being as Zim tugged up the borrowed shirt. "So I'm looking at their organs, not yours?"

"Correct." Zim said, both hands digging into the irken surgical steel. Dib's own fingernails were pushed so far into his palms that they were probably bleeding. He couldn't tell over the swimming in his head.

Yeah, he'd known this was a possibility, but being faced with it directly…

They hadn't even started thinking of names yet. What if it didn't survive? What if it was born without a mouth or whatever the equivalent of a heart was?

"Come on, it said you'd live…" Zim narrowed his eyes, and Dib slapped a hand to his face, dragging it down.

Or what if Zim just forgot to mention very crucial information.

"So you know it's going to be okay?"

"It was going to survive. It didn't say for how long."

"Time to panic again then." Dib paced in a tight circle and Zim kept talking to his stomach before a hologram fizzled into the air between them..

"Well, they aren't going to die," The computer said. "Their organs are a genetic hodgepodge of irken and human, that's why your Pak said it was a mutation."

The concern in Dib's chest eeked out like helium from a balloon. "So they'll be fine?"

"Don't ask me. You're the two that decided to make the thing. But it seems that they'll survive, yes."

"See? There was nothing to worry about! You got me all worked up over nothing!" Zim glared at Dib.

"Hey, you didn't tell me you already knew it was going to be fine, you worried me more than-"

"Hey, the organs are developed enough now I can tell the sex. Want to know?"

Dib froze. "Uh-"

"Pssh, that doesn't really matter." Zim waved a hand. "Details, details. We need a good name before we pick one of those out."

"People usually want a gender before they pick a name- or they pick a couple and see." Dib gnawed on his lower lip until he tasted iron, considering. "Sure, go ahead."

The hologram zoomed in on the lower stomach area. Wow, it really was a weird mix, but it definitely leaned more irken- it seemed almost like a squeedlyspooch but with more defined individual areas for each separate organ function. He didn't want to dissect them, but just a few x-rays could do wonders to explain the difference in biology between-

"Huh, that little pouch…" Zim tapped his chin. "Is that-"

"Yep. It's a girl. Congratulations."

"A girl…" Dib stared, running his hand along the edge of the hologram. It blurred wherever his fingers touched.

"Well, that's if the parts are even what we think they are. It's a mess in there," Zim said, and Dib shook out of his awe.

"Yeah, I guess, so we should probably have a couple names picked out just in case." He took a step back. "I'll take this over them just having half human parts that don't attach properly to the squeedlyspooch. That would be pretty terrible."

"Did we not just go over this? Don't talk about disasters!" Zim tugged at his antennae, and Dib walked over to him.

"Sorry. It'll be fine, they'll- er, she'll get through this if she's even half as resilient as you are."

Zim perked up a little. "Yes, of course. A survivor, that's what we both are." He poked at the hologram, watching it ripple under his touch.

It pulsed slightly when Zim pulled away, and Dib was about to set his hand on Zim's shoulder when an alarm started going off.

"The waffle iron caught fire. Figured you'd want to know," The computer said dryly, and Dib swore.