summary : ask me again my i keep you here pet [zadr

disclaimer : invader zim owns me, not the other way around

CORRODE

04 : GIFT

Tiny metallic footsteps tinkled alongside the harsh and merciless tap of Irken boots.

Childish and innosent sounding laughter shattered the quiet lull of muffled noise and movement. The prisoners still holding onto their false hopes felt their ears perk, minds singing 'rescue?!' in question.

Gaz was among them.

Dib, in his extra-thick, extra-confined and extra-protected containment cell, was not.

The sound of metal feet on metal floorboards sped up and scattered as though the cause had noticed something of intrest. Most likely the rows of inprisoned slaves.

Innosent laughter squealed again, the sound echoing amongst the 'unworthy' prisoners.

Zim smirked a little, almost fondly.

The robot danced around his masters legs apon returning, voice sing-song as he praised and pleaded with the Irken, "do I get my present now Master?" he inquired.

Zim tilted his head to one side, made a wide guesture. "Pick anyone but my Dib-thing," he offered his most faithful (and uncomplaining) servant.

Gir all but sparkled in glee, his voice carrying his laughter further and stronger then before.

Nearby slaves attempted to shift out of sight, at least those who had heard about the robot.

The SIR unit raced off, into the mass of caged humans still either awaiting use or just put there for something to do when Zim was bored, his step bounding with pure innocent excitement.

Zim remained patient enough, following slowly and barely watching. His antenna were perked, but unalert. He seemed the perfect picture of calm and content Irken... likely an oddity in itself.

Gir returned abruptly with a bubbly-bright grin, eyes glowing with aquamarine adoration.

"I want this one," he promised, tugging Zim's arm lightly in the apropriate direction.

Letting himself be led, Zim felt his smirk grow at the door presented to him. "Ironic," he murmered to himself, running his fingers along the name printed in Irken under the small window in the door.

He concidered denying the robot, but brushed the thought aside. The girl seemed lonely anyway.

The alien reached into his Pak, pulling out a shining black ring. He nodded to Gir, who beamed in delight.

As the door swung inwards, Gaz felt a warning chill race up her spine.

"Do not break her," Zim ordered, his voice sounding the odd sort of familiar to the girl, "she's promised away so you'll have to give her back."

Gaz buckled at the sight of Zim, cliche stutter of 'a-a-alien?' half out as Gir scuttled in all laughter and glee.

Before Gir ran for his new prize, Zim pulled him back. "Do not break her," he confirmed. When Gir's eyes flashed that perfect shade of crimson-compliance, Zim handed him the slave collar from his hand. "Put this on her neck right away, so she can't get away."

Gir saluted, accepting the band. He offered the girl an extatic grin before slipping through the bars of the cell and running for the human on all fours.

Gaz's look of surprised fear grew to a terrified scream.

Chuckling at the sound, Zim slunk out.

Offering only a sneak glance at Dib's door as he passed it, but not stopping. Three weeks wasn't long enough to make the boy snap. He was far to worthy for that.

"But soon Pet," Zim whispered, "soon."

x.o.x.o.x

Authors Notes: Sorry for all delays, it's taking me a while to sort work in with my usual routine so my writing is suffering (always an excuse with me, huh?) Im working on updates, but they still might be a while. Well, more money Jaffa makes, more likely it is she'll be getting a computer again, neh?