Dib watched as Gir rummaged through the couch, the little tail on his dog suit wagging as he reached behind the cushions with his tongue sticking out, the ears on the hood flopping around with every little movement. "How do you even move that?"

"Huh?"

"The tail. You don't normally have a tail, but you seem to have control over it. Is there a magnet in it or something?"

Gir pulled out a piece of lint-covered candy, popping it in his mouth and shrugging. "I'unno. You're a pretty clown."

Dib raised a hand to his cheeks- sure enough, they were warm and probably flushed. "Oh, huh. It's not hot in here, what am I…? There haven't been any big problems with the kid the past few days, maybe it's seeing Gaz? I haven't been away from her this long since that summer camp. But she's fine, there's nothing I need to think about since she's been self-sufficient since we were kids."

Gir nodded sagely at that. "Uh-huh."

"Although, she's moving into adulthood, which can be confusing… she would call me if she had any problems, right? She seemed fine on the phone…" Dib started to pace, and Gir followed him, mimicking the hand that had drifted over to his mouth as he walked in circles.

"Gaz will be fine. She's more than capable."

Dib looked up to see Zim pointing a spoon at him. He had a container of ice cream with a smiling irken symbol on the side, and little droplets were sliding down his glove. His gaze always looked more pointed when he had the contacts on, since he had actual pupils, and Dib rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right."

"Of course I am. You should already know this, you've spent more time with her than I have, but frankly, I'd say she's even more of a formidable warrior than you are."

"Gee, thanks."

Zim swallowed a particularly large bite just as there was a series of thuds on the door. One two three, pause. Four five six, louder this time.

Definitely Gaz. Dib yanked Gir's hood over the robot's head, if only because last time they'd met Dad had just gushed over his robotics instead of noticing that he was alien tech, and he didn't want to deal with that today. He smoothed down the collar of his trench coat before glancing back at Zim, who was shoving the carton (spoon and all) into the freezer.

"Dib, come on!" Gaz sounded the same as ever, at least.

"Coming!" Dib hurried over to the door, pulling it open. As he'd expected, Dad had sent the screen- it had been pretty short notice. Gaz sniffed at the air, shifting the straps of her backpack.

"Is that pine?"

"Yeah, Zim got a new cleaner," Dib said.

"What an interesting sense of style!" Membrane flew into the living room, looking around. "So many bright colors. It stimulates the senses, to be sure."

"Dib-father." Zim walked around the table to meet him and nodded his head. "Good to see you."

"And you as well! It's been too long, but when the world is always at stake, it's so difficult to find time for pleasantries."

Dib had never noticed the static hum the screen had- maybe they'd pulled out an old one, the new one got glitches with updates sometimes. "We have cake."

Gaz had already crossed the living room to claim a piece, settled on the chair so her backpack wasn't smushed, and Gir started humming what appeared to be a mangled version of the James Bond theme as his eyes followed her. Zim winced as he saw her cut a piece, but after opening his mouth he seemed to think better of whatever he was about to say.

After following his sister, Dib sawed at the cake with the knife, getting crumbs and frosting on the side of his hand. He stuck a fork in it, setting it on the plate underneath the tiny teleporter before hitting the button. A few moments later, a green light lit up against the goggles on Membrane's face, and he held up the cake.

"Hey, my fork!" Zim complained.

"There's a whole set in the drawer with like fifteen forks. Two people live here. You do the math," Dib said as he made a piece for himself, licking the crumbs off his hand.

"Three soon," Gaz pointed out.

"Five, if we count Gir and Minimoose," Zim added.

"Minimoose doesn't even eat."

"Gir eats enough for two," Zim said smugly, as if he was winning some argument Dib hadn't realized they were having. His wig slid back on his skull when he whipped his head around as Gaz prodded at his side.

"Geez, you're huge."

"Eh?" He adjusted the wig, attempting to brush her arm off of him.

"I said you're huge. You've still got like a month to go, right?" She tilted her head to the side as Zim scooted his chair away from her.

"Yes, but what does it matter to you?"

"Oh, it doesn't. I just was curious if you were going to blow up. Dib's a lot bigger than you, after all, and if he's the dad..." She puffed out her cheeks, and Zim scowled.

"I am not! My skin has stretched further than this before, and I'm certainly not-"

"She's joking, Zim." Dib rolled his eyes. "You're not going to blow up."

"That reminds me! How long have you two known?" The screen floated closer,

"Three months," Zim said.

"Three? You look much further along than that. Is there more than one?"

"Or- er, how long has it been, human boyfriend?" Zim looked over at Dib, who was dragging his hand down his face.

Dib shoved a forkful of cake into Zim's mouth to shut him up. "It has been three months, he's due in about one. I moved in to monitor him. We have no idea what the complications could be with a hybrid, since, for the millionth time, Zim's an alien. That's why his gestation is much shorter than a human's."

Membrane sighed. "Must you really-"

"It's what's really going on," Dib said through gritted teeth. A month of being away from the labs and allowed to complete work at his own pace had allowed the feeling of being shut down to begin to dull. "I would have said something before now, wouldn't I?"

"You do enjoy hearing yourself talk." There was a little clink from the screen's microphone as the plate was set down. "5C needs me, I'll be back later." The feed cut to the ML logo and Dib's forehead hit the table.

"Why did I think this was a good idea?"

"I'm not sure." Gaz shrugged. "It's Dad, you know him." She reached into her backpack, pulling out a book and dropping it on the table. Dib turned his face so his cheek was pressed against the grain. He could see Zim craning his neck around Gaz to see what it was, frosting dotting his lips.

Dib peeled his face off the table to see what the book was.

" 'Cooking for Idiots?' "

"I found it when I was looking for my old bat with the spikes in the basement and figured you'd need it so the kid won't starve to death."

Dib ran his fingers along the spine- yeah, it definitely had water damage, it must have been the part of the lab Dad never touched anymore. Both him and Gaz had long since claimed it as a dumping ground split by a table, and if the book was there, Gaz must have memorized it years ago.

Flipping through it, at least most of it was legible and adequately idiot-proof. He'd probably be able to make most of this stuff. Hell, Zim probably could.

Gaz had gone back to her cake, and Zim was currently on his- checking what was left, third slice. Well, he could work the knife on his own, he dissected things all the time.

Dib forked some of his own cake, watching the two of them. From this angle, he could see that Gaz had at least one earbud in, hidden behind her hair.

By the time Dib almost finished his slice, Gir had dragged himself over on his butt. Dib handed him the plate with one bite left, and he squealed, starting to lick at the crumbs.

"So, are they going to be mutated?" Gaz asked as she idly dragged the fork along the plate.

"What?"

"You're a human. Zim's an alien. Nothing got mixed up?" The fork twirling around the ceramic was making a terrible noise. Zim winced behind her, but from where he was looking, he was distracting himself from the sound by being grossed out from how messy Gir was.

"Well, her organs are going to be pretty messed up, but I was surprised there weren't any apparent outward mutations yet."

"Her?" Gaz asked.

"Oh, that was the other thing I was going to tell you! We're pretty sure it's going to be a girl. Any tips?"

"Don't force her into anything she doesn't like or risk getting your ass kicked when she grows up," Gaz said with a shrug.

"What would your advice have been if it was a boy?" Dib asked.

"The same."

"Oh."

Zim stood up, arching his back. Gaz turned to look at him, scanning him up and down.

"You might want to wash that shirt twice, you know. Dib sometimes wore shirts for a week at a time."

Zim waved a hand. "I've cleaned it more than adequately, Gaz-sister."

She shrugged, standing up and handing her plate to Gir, who had finished with Dib's and had moved on to gnawing on the table leg. He gasped, looking up at her with wide eyes, but she had already moved over to the living room.

"Think Dad will come back online?" Dib asked, glancing over at the screen.

"What do you think?"

"...Yeah, you can probably go." Dib sighed. "I'll wait until he bugs me about coming in to get my bio assignments. Thanks for coming over and for the book, at least."

She pulled out her Gameslave and whistled. The screen zipped over. "Yeah, yeah. I can prep for Santa without you, so you don't need to come home for Christmas unless you want to."

"I'll think about it." Dib raked a hand through his hair. "Geez, I better make sure the base has enough weapons, that'll be close to his due date and we'll still need to prep the lab for birth-"

"And that's my cue." Gaz turned to the door.

"I'll see you later, then?"

"Mm." She nodded, tapping the earbud. "Good luck with not dying if they're a chestburster."

"What's that?" Zim asked, just as Gaz shut the door.

"Yeah, let's hope not," Dib mumbled as Zim rounded the table.

"Dib, what's that?"

"I think I showed you those movies before? It's from a movie, aliens lay eggs in a human and then they burst out when they're born, killing the host."

Zim's green skin turned an interesting shade. "They'd better not!"

"Relax, I'm sure you've got some kind of birthing canal. If not, I can probably knock you out and cut them out."

Zim curled his arms around his stomach. "That's the last resort and you know it, I don't want you rummaging around in my insides."

"I know-"

"Your hands are sticky even after you wash them, and sweaty, and stink of human-"

Dib sighed. "Will you drop the subject if I don't take any of the rest of the cake?"

Zim's eyes were still narrowed, but he nodded.

"I could just have taken if I wanted."

"I know, but it's the principle of the thing." Dib popped the plastic lid back on. There wasn't much of it left anyway, but he'd liked that type of cake.

Ah well. Little sacrifices.