"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds fine." Dib's finger tapped out a beat on his knee as he pressed the phone against his ear. "Okay, see you then. Bye, Dad. Good luck with that robot cockroach uprising." He ended the call, turning to Zim. "Looks like the shower's on."
"You need a shower more than I do." Zim had his arms folded, and Dib sighed.
"It's not an actual shower. The idea if just having people give the m- er, parent some presents of stuff they'll need for the kid."
"Presents?" Zim straightened up. "I want presents."
"I don't know if they'll bring any, but it's possible. It's mostly just because Dad started texting me asking if he could send anything else because I turned in the last of the robotics stuff and he wanted to give me the packet for the bio sector. If he sees how much you need me, he'll probably keep the work light, so this'll just be for him and Gaz. It's not like you have any other friends, and I'm not inviting any Eyeballs. As long as you keep your disguise on, he won't notice anything."
"Of course he won't, this disguise has served me well for this long," Zim said. "What else happens during these 'showers?' "
"There's a few games, and some desserts, I guess? Sometimes they share if it's a boy or a girl, and I didn't tell Gaz yet, so I guess we can tell them then. Dad will probably just send the screen, but that's fine." Dib stretched. "I don't think they'll stay long enough to care about games, and Gaz will bring her Gameslave anyway. They'll be here at four."
"They'll be- today? "
"Dad told said this was the only time he could get off, and Gaz has game club after skool tomorrow," Dib said. "I told Gaz I'd get a cake so she'll come."
"I need to clean the living room again!" Zim hurried over to the closet, throwing aside the parts of the robodad to strap on his goggles and pull out a mop.
"I'll go deal with the cake. Try not to pull a muscle or Dad will think I'm "not treating you properly.' " He made air quotes. "Like he can talk…"
"I can handle myself," Zim scoffed, arching his back and wincing at the crack.
"I'll be back in an hour. Don't die on me." Dib patted his pockets to make sure he had his wallet on him. He heard the wet squish of the mop before he closed the door behind him, and hoped Zim wasn't soaking the whole living room- it had taken nearly all day to dry last time.
There was a grocery store that he'd seen do same-day cake decorations before, as long as it was simple- that was how he'd gotten most of his cakes, honestly. Either him or Gaz had gone in for a small one on the day of their birthdays, with some money shoved at them while Dad was distracted.
"I'm not gonna make them get their own birthday stuff," Dib mumbled to himself, kicking at a bottle cap and watching it spin as it rolled before hitting a weed and falling over. "Or- her. It's a her." Not for the first time, he wondered what she'd look like. Maybe she'd have purple hair- he'd seen a picture of his grandma once, and he was pretty sure she had purple hair like Gaz. That would be kind of cute, but so would black.
Or what if she looked mostly irken? Her insides were an amalgam of irken and human parts, but Zim's body had made her out of sheer force of will and some weird hormonal mix-up, so he wouldn't be surprised if she was more irken than human. She had antennae, that was for sure from what the computer had said… what else was there?
"Number of fingers and toes, eyes, teeth, tongue, hair both on the head and on the body…" Dib started counting off on his fingers. "All of them could vary, irken or human or something in-between. Depending on how irken she turns out we might need a disguise… although I guess we could just say she's sick or really ugly and people would probably buy it, considering how little they care about Zim."
He shivered- the days were about to tip over into December, and although his trench coat was mostly warm, it was also old and starting to fray. He'd need to get another one, or at least pick up a few more from his closet at home. A fuzzy chill had settled over his hands, and he stuffed them further into his pockets, puffing out a fog of warm breath before nudging the door of the store open.
He headed right for the bakery, scanning the smaller cakes already on display. Hmm. He should have asked what Zim could eat. Vanilla should be fine, right? Gaz liked it and Dad probably wasn't going to show up in person so it didn't really matter much. He decided on one that was labeled vanilla with chocolate frosting, and set it on the counter. The man behind it popped his gum as he watched Dib fumble for his wallet.
"Is it for an occasion that you'd like to have written on top?"
"It's for- eh, 'congratulations' would be fine."
"Do you want to add a name, or have the writing in a specific color?"
"Purple is good. He'd like his name, so I guess 'congratulations, Zim'. Z-I-M." Dib was pretty sure Zim would strangle him if he mentioned the kid to the strangers at the store.
"Hey, Betty! Cake!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!" A woman with gray hair shuffled out from the kitchen. "Anything fancy?"
"Nah, just a name," The man said.
Betty flashed Dib a smile. "Alright then, sugar. Just give me a few minutes." She took the cake and the piece of paper from the counter man, who Dib finally noticed was wearing a nametag that said 'Jee.' Huh. Well, he'd seen plenty of weirder names.
Dib started flipping through the cake catalog. Wow, they had a lot of designs in there. Movies, sports, tv shows… how did anyone who planned in advance for this kind of thing decide between all of them? He'd gotten one with a little ghost on it once, but he'd had to ask for it himself and it had looked more like a tissue with eyes because the person who frosted it had shaky hands. These were so much neater because they were full prints.
"Does that look good?" He looked up at Betty's voice. She had written in big, blocky letters, covering half the top of the cake.
"Yeah, that's fine. How much will that be?"
"Twenty-five fifty."
"Got it." Dib pulled out twenty-six dollars and handed them over. "Just keep the change."
"No problem, hun. You have a nice day now. Be careful not to drop it."
"I'll try." Dib found himself smiling before his face fell when he realized he'd forgotten to bring a bag. He'd have to carry it back without one.
He needed more groceries anyway, but that was for tomorrow Dib to deal with, considering he couldn't carry much of anything on top of the cake without smushing the writing, and it might break a normal plastic bag. He grabbed a few little balloons by the register so Dad wouldn't complain he'd done nothing for the 'party'. He paid for them and tied them around his wrist so he didn't have to hold them before heading out.
The walk back was hurried along by the clouds starting to gather overhead. Dib was grateful for his long legs, managing to make it back to the base just before the rain started.
Gir was settled on the blanket pile that had been pushed to one corner, sucking on a lollipop. Zim had taken the goggles off, but was scrubbing the kitchen table in bright yellow gloves. Dib raised an eyebrow.
"You know they won't care, right? Our house looks way worse."
"I care! It has to be clean or it- won't be!"
"Well, I got a cake." Dib waited for Zim to lower the sponge to set the cake down, the plastic container making a wobbly noise as he did. Zim craned his neck to see.
"'Congratulations, Zim?' "
"I wasn't really sure what to write."
"That's- that's fine." Zim stared at it for a few seconds too long, and Dib scanned his face as the middle of it wrinkled, the bottoms of Zim's eyes scrunching up.
"Wait, are you- are you crying? "
"No, there's just soap in my eye!" Zim scrubbed furiously at his face- which wasn't exactly the best idea, as the gloves were still soaked in soap. "Gah!"
Dib couldn't help a grin. "Well, now it's soap."
"Your face-hole needs to stop making noises or I'll make it stop." Zim yanked the gloves off with a snap, tossing them at Dib.
"You're being hormonal, aren't you?"
"I am not! I simply haven't had earth-cake in a while."
"Suuuuuure. We have time for a log before they show up." Dib held up his phone, waving it around, and the balloons on his wrist bounced off of each other. Zim huffed, one hand on his stomach.
"What if I don't want to?"
"We haven't done one in over a week- we were going to the other day but got distracted by the waffle iron nearly setting the kitchen on fire. Besides, you need to put your disguise on for Dad. Although honestly, he probably wouldn't notice even if you didn't…"
"Fine," Zim grumbled, sliding off the chair and heading over to the dresser where he kept the extra contacts and wig. "But I'm not going to like it."
"It'll be helpful later!" Dib said, tying the balloons to the chair settling down in the blanket-and-pillow pile that had been pushed to the size. Zim perked up a little at seeing Dib had chosen the nest over the couch, shifting the wig around on his head before curling up next to him.
"Okay, log seven," Dib started. "It's November 28th, and Dad and Gaz are coming over soon for a pseudo-baby shower. Mostly it's to prove to Dad that I'm not just skipping out on work, but Gaz did say she wanted cake. We'll have to keep Gir away from it until they're gone, or at least until they have a piece." Dib said. "Zim was being obsessive about cleaning again because they were coming over, but that might have just been a convenient excuse."
"Was not," Zim said, looking away.
"And on top of that, he almost cried at the cake for 'congratulations Zim'."
"I did not!" Zim reached for the camera. "Dib is telling filthy lies, and I want that on the record!"
"I'm just noting what's happening!" Dib held it up, and Zim's arm waved as he stretched for it before stepping on Dib's thigh to get a better angle. "Holy- wow , you're heavy now!"
"I wouldn't be if I wasn't carrying your fat-headed smeet in my- ah!" Zim pulled a cable out of his Pak, and used it to knock the phone out of Dib's grip. He fumbled for it, but luckily it landed on a pillow, unharmed. Zim managed to grab it first, sticking his tongue out at Dib.
"Hey, you wanted them- her to be tall, that means she's going to be big." Dib crossed his arms, and Zim aimed the camera at his own stomach.
"Well, she's- er, about sixty-nine percent done, when I last checked. She's still leaving marks on me, and won't stop that infernal moving when I'm trying to do something else."
"I saw you humming to yourself when you were using the computer in the lab the other day- oh, and you called her 'ours' recently too. You like her, don't pretend you don't." Dib patted Zim's stomach, getting a swat with Zim's phoneless hand.
"Of course I don't mind her, why else would I let her be growing in me when she's causing such problems?"
"I wonder what she's going to be like." Dib's hand settled on a blanket just next to Zim's exposed skin. "Do you think she'll have hair?"
"I hope not, yours smells terrible." Zim's face kind of wrinkled up again and Dib lightly elbowed him.
"You're just sensitive."
"I've heard your sister complain about it too."
"Gaz doesn't count, siblings are supposed to rib each other." Dib rolled his eyes. "Anyways… we'll just have to see when she comes out."
"We will." Zim nodded. "I would say it's the chemical imbalances she's causing that's making you seem both more and less repulsive than usual, but otherwise my behavior-."
Dib raised an eyebrow. "Zim, no offense, but if I didn't know you were pregnant I wouldn't even think twice about half of this stuff you're doing. You were already a neat freak and kind of hormonal."
"Lies!" Zim pointed with the phone.
"Believe whatever you want. I'm still here, aren't I? It's just part of who you are, I'm used to it by now." Dib shrugged. "That footage is going to be terrible, by the way. You're moving the camera around way too much."
Zim glared at him, and Dib watched him attempt to steady the phone. His arm was kind of noodley. "Hey, seriously, you okay?"
"Of course I am!"
"Uh… when was the last time you ate? I know that's the one I forget a lot. Besides sleep, but you're not having any problems with that…"
Zim thought for a moment. "This morning, or last night. One or the other."
"Okay, that's not too bad. I'll put the balloons up, you have something. I don't want you passing out in Gaz's lap."
Zim shuddered. "That would be… horrible ."
Dib grabbed the camera back as Zim tried to tug the shirt back down. It was already growing tight- Dib would need to get him another, bigger one. Honestly, at this point, he could probably wear one of Dib's regular shirts. Man, was that a weird thought. "Alright, so if we're lucky it'll be just about a month to go, maybe a little more. Gaz and Dad will be here in about an hour. Dib out."