"Today's weather will be partly cloudy with a 75% chance of rain. Take out those umbrellas folks, because you might get caught in a storm when you least expect it!"

Dib cracked open an eyelid, feeling like the sun was driving daggers into his skull. Why was it so damn bright?

Oh, yeah. Today was a Saturday.

"In other news, Michael Jackson has died! The famous pop star was found… wait, what? What do you mean that happened a long time ago!?...Uh… ahem. There is a crash on highway 29 blocking two lanes of traffic. Drivers are advised to take route 40 around the scene of the accident to minimize travel time…"

Dib groaned. He felt like shit. Why did he feel so crummy? Rolling over, he burrowed his head farther into his pillow. Just a few more years… then he'd get up…

"A robbery earlier today at a convenience store was thwarted by an unusually heroic small green dog. The unlikely savior, when asked what his feelings were on the attack, merely slurped his suck monkey contemplatively. Such deepness!"

What was that infernal racket? Why did Gaz have the morning news turned up so unreasonably high? Grumbling, Dib sat up creakily and groaned. Had he been wrestling mountain lions in his sleep or something? He shouldn't be this sore. Brushing it off, he wearily slumped out of bed and unsteadily headed for the door to yell over the balcony to tell Gaz to turn the television down.

"Also in recent news, President Man has enacted a new law that would strive to preserve wild emus in their natural environments. The bill, after going through a rigorous reviewal by the house and senate, was signed into law just yesterday at 5 pm, initiating the recovery act for those giant majestic avians."

"Gaz! Would you turn that down already!?" Dib barked over the edge of the stairs, but the instant his voice came out he winced. He sounded loud even to his own ears.

"Turn what down, Dib? The tv? It's only on 12!" Gaz's irritated voice floated up from the kitchen, and Dib scrunched his forehead in confusion.

Volume 12 WAS really quiet… so why did it sound like the news reporter's mission was to invade Dib's ears until he could hear nothing but him? However, now that he thought about it, a cacophony of other noises were assaulting him. The A/C unit seemed unusually loud, the neighbor's lawnmower growled like a caged animal, a squirrel foraging for nuts in the tree outside the window reminded Dib of feet tromping through crisp leaves, and the conversation he could catch snippets of he was hearing from…

From across the street?

No. No, that couldn't be possible. He had to be imagining things, that was all. Trying to tune everything out, he stomped down the stairs and yawned expansively, noting that his tongue and teeth felt weird and seemed to set in a different way than they always had. And that crack in the wall across the living room by the ceiling… had that always been there? And how had he even seen that in the first place? He was usually blind without his glasses on…

Without…his…

Dib's train of thought came to a crashing, screeching, fiery halt when he entered the kitchen and heard a "click" "click" "click" accompanying his footfalls. Gaz was at the counter by the fridge waiting for her bread to pop out of the toaster, and simultaneously Dib screamed and her eyes widened as she took a step back.

"Uh… Dib? You look a little… like Zim." Gaz managed, eyes taking in her brother's appearance critically as she watched him staring in horror at his own three-fingered hands.

Three fingers. And green! A pale green a few shades lighter than Zim, but green nonetheless. Vision focusing past his outstretched hands and down to his feet, Dib stifled another scream as he observed two curved, pointy toes on each foot. Slowly bringing his hands up, Dib's breathing accelerated as he felt his own usual hair rumpled from sleep. At least that was still there… but… what were…

Touching the antennae sprouting from the top of his head was an odd sensation unlike any other. It warmed him a little, slowing his pulse against his will and making foreign muscles unclench. They were slender and smooth, the texture and pliability reminding him of an electrical cable without the friction-y feeling of rubber. They were neither squishy nor rigid, but a good medium inbetween that allowed them to bend if needed but remain erect and straight without effort.

Gaz, silently watching what she could only assume was her brother exploring his own unusual features, wondered how he hadn't noticed the difference himself immediately. But then, Dib never had been much of a morning person. In the half hour after he awoke, his intellect was mediocre at best as he slouched around until the night's energy gained from sleep caught up with him.

"You should probably go into the bathroom." She advised cautiously, not missing the antennae's twitch the moment she began speaking.

"Y-yeah…" Dib agreed, backpedaling out of the kitchen and still seeming unnerved by the sound of his own feet striking the hard floor.

Gaz shook her head. Zim had played this one well, and it was ironic that a plan having little to do with actual world conquest would succeed where all his others failed. In this scenario though, Zim's one stroke of luck had ended rather unfortunately for her brother. Shrugging and snatching the toast out of the air as it launched itself up from the toaster, Gaz sat at the table and began buttering the crunchy slice. Dib would just have to learn to deal with being an Irken, if it was unfixable.

Entering the bathroom, Dib flipped the light switch and felt sick to his stomach at what he saw.

That wasn't him looking back in the mirror. It was an Irken, large round amber eyes alert and shining and antennae standing up in surprise. His hair, thank goodness, hadn't fallen out- but aside from it and his eyes, the rest of him was unmistakably like Zim. The churning sensation of discomfort in his abdomen made Dib feel even worse- he could no longer say he felt sick to his stomach because he no longer had a stomach, most likely.

And if his internal organs were changed, what about his external… "No." Banishing the thought before it could develop further, Dib bared his teeth in a wide flat smile and opened his mouth to look inside in morbid interest. He'd go nowhere near his unmentionables until he'd beaten the living shit out of Zim for this.

Oh, how Zim would pay.

Thunderclouds of anger rolling through his mind, Dib turned around and fixed his now sharp eyes on the round bump protruding from under his nightshirt. Furiously tugging it off, Dib glared at the silvery metal Pak with blue spots, memories rushing back like a tidal wave. The blinding pain, the awful bone-crunching sound of his spine being bored into, Zim's somberly neutral voce, the freaking pain…

The skin around the Pak exhibited a dull darker green color- bruising, no doubt. A red rusty crust of dried blood mixed with a fresher clear pinkish substance led Dib to determine he'd changed rapidly overnight. His human blood had been replaced with Irken blood, and the transition from when the wounds under the Pak had stopped bleeding red and begun to leak this pinkish stuff was apparent. Touching the Pak once gingerly, Dib flinched. His entire back felt sore to the touch, and tapping the metal dome had sent little jolts of pain through his spine; the nerves and bone must still be raw from the procedure.

Staring at his featureless smooth green chest in the mirror, Dib snarled and almost turned the sound into a yelp when the growl was produced with a much louder and fuller intensity than a human could hope to make.

Clenching his fists at his sides, Dib felt the unnatural points of his new claws poking into the padding of his palms as he stormed out of the bathroom and took the stairs two at a time, not feeling fatigued in the least as he swiftly scaled them. Entering his room and looking around, all seemed to be in order aside from a small bloodstain in his bed- leaked from under (Dib shuddered to admit it) his Pak where it had been anchored through his back. With red hazing his vision Dib tore through his dresser drawers angrily in the search of a pair of clothes, pulling on a solid blue shirt and pair of black jeans without looking at his lower half until he had to button the pants.

Feeling uncharacteristically naked still, Dib spied his trench coat slung over his computer chair and snatched it up. Zim might have been decent enough to return it along with the rest of what he'd been wearing the other day folded on the floor, but Dib yanked his arms through the coat all the same and almost smacked into Gaz when he turned to dart out of his room.

"You're going to go pummel Zim now, aren't you?" She asked simply, a slightly raised eyebrow being the only indication she was even mildly interested in her brother's tumultuous new situation.

"Yeah. I'm going to rip out his squeedlyspooch and force him to fix me, or otherwise I'll haul us both off to the authorities." Dib hissed, light from the sun reflecting off his large round amber eyes making them seem molten with rage.

"You're going out like that?" Gaz pointed out flatly, gesturing to his eyes and antennae.

Dib unconsciously brought a hand up to hold them against his skull, feeling oddly uncomfortable with his sister's knowledge of his change. Were those just newly engineered Irken instincts of self-preservation interfering with his judgment? Either way, Dib put his hand back in his pocket and kept the stalks pinned down despite the slight conscious effort it took, giving Gaz what he hoped was a questioning look- expressions felt odd to make without a nose or eyebrows.

Taking in a breath and considering the flow of the air for a minute, Dib brushed a hand along the space where a nose should be. Instead there was an unusual sort of membrane, completely indistinguishable from the surrounding skin but there all the same. Air could pass through, but large particles and debris were kept out. Also, the lack of a protrusion meant the already giant Irken eyes could have a more complete field of view.

Grudgingly, Dib had to admit it was a smart evolutionary adaptation.

"I can hold them down, for the most part. And I'll just squint the whole way there and try not to look at anybody. If I'm not back in an hour…" Dib trailed off weakly, noting Gaz's annoyed expression. "W-well, I don't expect you to come looking for me or anything, but you can probably assume I'm captured or dead at least." He finished lamely, grabbing some socks and brushing past his sister and heading for his boots by the door, their location also Zim's doing- the alien couldn't have known Dib kept his boots in his closet under the UFO poster, so he'd logically placed them in the next best spot.

Yanking them on and muttering obscenities to himself, Dib ceased his chatter when he realized he'd begun to say phrases in another language without knowing it. The meanings and translations were clear in his mind, yet he had no idea how he'd obtained the knowledge. Casting a mistrustful glance over his shoulder at the lump beneath his coat that was the Pak, Dib felt the chaos in his mind grow. If this thing was already funneling knowledge into his head, what else could it be doing to him?

"Don't kill him."

Dib switched his glare from the Pak to Gaz, trying to make sense of her statement.

"Why not? Can't you see what he did to me!? I don't even know if this can be reversed!" Dib exclaimed indignantly, pushing himself up from the floor and pausing at the front door with his hand on the knob.

"Because, you dimwit- you might need him. Or do you want to live not knowing about yourself for the rest of your life, however long that may be now?" Gaz reasoned, crossing her arms at her brother's bold tone.

"I…" Dib scrunched his eyes in confusion, searching about for a rebuttal but coming up empty handed. His sister was right- but he was still going to make Zim wish he had killed him.

Storming out the front door without an answer for his sister, he only grunted over his shoulder when Gaz called from the porch "They're sticking right up, Dib."

Consciously flattening them down again, Dib fought the urge to let the antennae rise up instinctively as waves of anger rolled through him. He'd always had a good idea of what Zim's antennae positions meant the Irken was feeling, but now he had solid proof of one- antennae pitched up meant anger, and the farther forward they were tilted the more furious the Irken was.

Stomping along the sidewalk and keeping his eyes slitted and pointing down, Dib's head buzzed disorientingly with all the sounds rebounding around him. The barking of a far off dog sounded perilously close, and conversations from inside houses were muffled but still intelligible. Birds tweeted louder than it seemed they ever had, cars sounded like jet planes zooming by, and the humming of insects was an unending drone. Scents of freshly cut grass wafted by, mixing with gag-inducing trails of exhaust from the road.

Crossing a street with Zim's house only a block away now, Dib sniffed the air. A woman coated in perfume had stood here waiting for the bus approximately three hours ago, and the perfume was a heady mixture of lilac and gardenia. But why did he know that!?

Wanting to tear his new antennae out in frustration, Dib felt his mind fracturing under stress. The noise, the light, the smells, the unbalanced feel from walking with only two toes and having too much foot room in his boots… all of the unfamiliarity and sensual overload compounded exponentially to the point where Dib felt a panicked yell building up in his breast.

Only the sight of Zim's purple men's room door as though through tunnel vision kept Dib from breaking down like a lunatic in the middle of the cul-de-sac. Marching up to it, the gnomes remained placidly inactive as he pounded on the door as hard as possible. Waiting, from within he heard a short conversation take place.

"Master, it's Dib."

"Eh? Here already? The sedatives shouldn't have worn off that quickly… Gir, go down to the lab. I don't want you here for this."

"B-but… I love Mary! I wanna hug him!"

"…"

"…Okaaay…."

The sound of the television's garble being clicked off was picked up by Dib, and the flushing of the toilet from deeper within signaled Gir's descent into the base. The door swung open slowly just as Dib brought a green fist up to bash at it again, and he locked eyes with Zim's red ones at last.

Standing in the center of the room, the Irken's expression was an amalgamation of different warring emotions- relief, triumph, wariness, regret, interest, elation, and a touch of fear as Dib's antennae shot forward and he bared his teeth with a rippling snarl.

Zim opened his mouth to say something, but Dib would have none of it. He had come here to maul Zim and, if the Irken survived, possibly return again later when his head had cooled. Launching himself across the room at his nemesis and sparing only a second to be surprised at the speed with which he'd closed the distance, Dib tackled his enemy and began punching and kicking anything he could reach, pushing aside the wave of nausea and pain lancing through his spine and body in favor of pounding Zim to a little green pulp.

Zim, for his part, managed only to meep before Dib charged and braced himself, falling in a hunched inward manner that would take the blunt of the impact off his Pak. Hitting the ground, Zim brought his arms up and blocked every punch Dib threw at him and scrabbled out of the way of some of his kicks, oof-ing at a particularly lucky kick to his side. Dib might have had increased strength and stamina now and had pure undiluted rage fueling his desire to maim, but Zim had decades of combat training and fighting tactics under his belt. Sliding out from under the human-turned-mostly-Irken, Zim flipped Dib over and pressed a knee against his chest, causing the other's new Pak to grind against the tiled floor.

Dib gasped in pain, focus instantly changing from trying to destroy Zim to trying to keep the weight off his back. An inferno of pain was raging up and down his spine, and he swore he could feel the moving of the cords connecting the machine to his spine as he shifted in agony.

Zim glared down at Dib, easing up on the pressure at the hybrid's grimace. As good a method as it was to subdue Dib, it simply wouldn't do to have his spine fracture from any extra stress it was placed under before it had healed. Keeping his knee in place however, Zim waited until Dib's thoughts had cleared enough to allow the hybrid to lock infuriated amber eyes with Zim's calm red ones.

"If you refrain from attacking me I'd be happy to answer any questions you may have, dirt child." Zim stated, antennae held back in a relaxed manner to show a lack of hostility.

Dib seemed to interpret the gesture unconsciously because his own antennae fell back a few inches, but he still kept them raised aggressively as he snarled once more.

"Fine." He spat, wrath flickering behind amber orbs. "But you'd better have some good fucking answers, or I'll-"

"Or you'll be forced to the ground like this again, and next time I won't be so easy." Zim cut in, eyes narrowing as he waited for Dib's agreement.

Dib drew in a deep breath, wincing as his Pak pressed against the floor with the motion. Forcing his antennae down, Dib glowered sullenly as Zim nodded, satisfied, and let him up.

The two stood at a silent standoff, each waiting for the impending question.

"Why?" Dib finally whispered, reaching a hand up to touch an antenna absentmindedly.

Zim's eyes followed the movement and he seemed to consider the question deeply as he slowly answered, picking his words carefully.

"I knew you would die someday. Not soon, of course, but it would inevitably happen sooner or later. I began thinking about what things would be like without you to constantly pit myself against. In short, I believe things would be rather boring indeed." Zim inspected the material of his glove almost self-consciously, doing his best to keep the conversation mature and leave out the usual insults he employed when speaking to Dib. "Taking over Earth would be pathetically easy." He explained, antennae rising when Dib bristled at the incomplete explanation.

"So you changed me into the very thing I hate just to keep me around to fight with at your leisure? That's fucked up on SO many levels!" Dib yelled, fists clenching and opening with the desire to throttle the alien.

Zim quickly backpedaled, waving his hands in denial. "No, no. That no longer matters. In fact, it was only a passing consideration." He admitted, restraining himself from responding to the open display of hostility he was receiving from Dib knowing that an aggressive response would trigger instinctual retaliation. "But once the idea was planted, it haunted me like one of those stuuuuupid ghosts you always blabber about. Ultimately reasons why failed to matter, and I found myself more and more accepting of the idea. Perhaps it was due to the machinations of my defective Pak- I don't know." Zim finished, shrugging noncommittally. "But it's done now, and it's irreversible. So before you pounce on me again I suggest you consider that I'm the only one who can help you with this… even though you're still smelly."

What? Zim just couldn't leave well enough alone without one tiny insult.

Dib grit his teeth, unusual-feeling tongue swiping along the insides of them idly while he thought. So it was permanent. It felt as though a black hole had opened up beneath his feet, and he was plummeting through it at breakneck speeds. He was part Irken now. Forever. Turned into the very rival he'd fought for so many years, it was a tragically ironic fate befitting of an unlucky, persecuted, unsung hero. He couldn't handle this. He just couldn't process…

The ground rushed up to meet him as black swept over his consciousness like a raven's wing.

The fool. Collapsing in his enemy's base while still slightly wounded, and all because he'd learned his body had been switched around a bit.

Surely it wasn't so terrible, was it? The pros of being an Irken far outweighed the cons of being a human. Zim had even gone to the extensive trouble of keeping Dib's base DNA structure similar enough so he could remain tolerant to water, sleep, eat human foods, and keep his hair and eye color! He should be grateful, if anything.

Observing the still pile of clothes on the floor, Zim heaved a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. His great idea had become less about personal revenge and more about personal loss in the grand scheme of things. For although transforming Dib into a partial Irken was a delicious bit of cruel irony, Zim had kept to himself the revelation that once Dib died, he'd have nothing and nobody aside from Gir. No mission, no aim in life, no living being to hold an intelligent conversation with…

Perhaps it had been rather selfish of him to assume Dib would get over something like this. From what he'd seen of humans, they didn't take well to things being done without their consent and this had been a major breech of that standard. Dib would need time. Time, knowledge, and training. Two of which only Zim could provide, and almost eagerly looked forward to. How would Dib fare in combat training? Would he make a good scientist? Perhaps he would excel in piloting?

Zim shook his head. Dib wasn't his science experiment, as much as he'd prefer to think of him that way. He was a living being, and deserving of more respect than that due to the Irken blood coursing through his veins now.

Again Zim corrected himself. His level of respect for the Dib hadn't changed with the procedure, as much as it needled him to admit he'd ever held an iota of respect for a filthy human in the first place. This entire situation was unprecedented and delicate, and Zim hoped he could at the very least help Dib cope with his new body- the fearless protector of Earth deserved that small courtesy from him, if nothing else.

A shifting of the pile had Zim languidly blinking as Dib sat up woozily, looking-quite frankly- like shit.

"What…?"

"You fainted, like the weak little fairy you are. Get up. We've much to go over, and I want to mention the important things while they're still at the front of my amazing Zim mind."

Hm. Not quite as tactful as he'd anticipated, but Dib dragged himself up nonetheless and listlessly plodded over to follow Zim down into the lower labs. The light in his eyes seemed to have dimmed, and Zim found himself worrying over this development as the elevator descended in silence. The Dib monkey had always had the fire of determination in his countenance, but now it seemed as though someone had mercilessly smothered the flame leaving only a hunched and broken creature in its aftermath.

But the Dib would come around. He always had, and Zim believed he would continue to do so. Even now a small spark of interest flickered in the large amber depths of Dib's eyes as he observed Zim's base without the need to hide or worry for his life as he usually did when busting in.

Stiffly marching through corridors until the two were funneled into the main computer room, Zim began pulling up simulations and diagrams on basic Irken biology and smirked to himself when he heard Dib's choked back yipe as two chairs popped up from the floor.

"I'm sure you're wondering about the functions and abilities of your new form." Zim began, flipping through simulations until he reached one concerning Irken eyes. "First and foremost are your vision and hearing improvements. Irken eyes have a large field of vision due to their shape and spacing, and our ability to pick out details from afar and see in the dark is clearly superior to that of a human's."

A diagram popped up showing a bisection of an Irken eye, layers and features defined and labeled in Irken text which Dib found he had no trouble reading.

"Why can I read that?" Dib asked, squinting at the text suspiciously.

Zim's antennae flicked briefly as though berating himself for not pointing the event out. "Your Pak has a translator built in. You'll be a little rusty with Irkinian when speaking or hearing it, but you'll catch on."

"Oh. Ok. What about these?" Dib asked, reaching up and rubbing an antenna exploratively.

"Mmn." Zim mumbled, switching the eye diagram to one of an antenna labeled and defined in much the same manner. "Antennae are for hearing and feeling vibrations, among other… eh, things." Zim glossed over, seeming to fumble at the "other things" part. Dib let it go however, and fell into a rapt silence as an hour ticked by and Zim covered everything from intestines to skeletal structure.

But one obvious category was absent. "Zim? What about… you know."

The Irken made an expression of discomfort, keeping his eyes trained on the screen. "We do not reproduce naturally, nor do we have any organs to do so. They may be naturally created by the body through a specific hormone injection, but this is never done for obvious reasons." Zim hedged around the question slightly, checking the time; 2:48 pm. How time did fly when you were teaching a new Irken hybrid about themselves.

"Ok, well what are those organs like when that is done?" Dib prodded, perversely enjoying his foe's squeamishness.

Zim stood up and turned away from Dib, making to march to the opposite end of the room and out. "WELLLL, I'm going to tell the computer to play a little video for you while I use this time to conveniently take my leave." Dib held back a chuckle. Who'd have known this topic would be the only thing the almighty Zim would ever consider running from? "Afterwards, you will leave this base and head home. I advise sleeping- your disgusting human half is still adjusting to your more advanced new Irken changes."

"Hey! Who said I have to listen to you?" Dib immediately retaliated, lifting his chin defiantly.

"Me. If you don't want to accidentally stab yourself when using your spider legs for the first time, anyway." Zim tossed haughtily over his shoulder, pinning Dib with a glare. "And if you so much as snoop around down here even a little before leaving, I'll dig out your brain with a rusty spoon and paint a mural with it."

Dib watched Zim leave, slightly impressed. That was the most creative insult he'd come up with in years- usually it was "smell monkey" or "flesh bag" or "filth worm" or any combination thereof.

The video began to play, and Dib turned around in his seat to watch it. Hopefully it wouldn't be too repulsive…

A little weirded out as he walked the sidewalks home, Dib decided Irkens weren't that different from humans in terms of reproduction- but that didn't make it any less creepy.

Dib tried to push away the ringing in his skull from the noises of the outside world as he hurried home. Zim had off-handedly mentioned he would gradually adjust to the loudness of things and after a short while learn to tune out unimportant noises, and Dib was glad for it. He felt he'd go insane if he had to eternally listen to the news man every morning for the rest of his life.

He was now faced with a choice. Zim had not so eloquently put it to him that if he wished for further training or instruction, he would return to the base again the next day- but man did it burn Dib to admit he needed guidance from the one being he'd fought with for years. He could just ignore the offer and try to figure things out on his own, but Zim had a point- he'd never be able to learn everything solely by trial and error.

Perhaps, after Zim had helped him, he could destroy the Irken.

Tromping into his house with a yawn, he noticed Gaz cast a look over at him and blink uninterestedly.

"I see you're still Irken. Is Zim a bloody mess?"

Dib heaved a sigh and flumped onto the couch beside her, only half paying attention to the TV show featuring a cow being eaten by leeches that was on.

"Part Irken, actually. Not like that makes it any better, but at least I won't go bald." Dib commented while touching his hair, disheartened. "And I gave him a few good kicks to remember me by. I'll bet his side will be a nice dark green color for at least a week." He added, moving from touching his hair to an antenna. The relaxing feeling spread through him again, and he sighed with a half-lidded tired expression.

"You look like ass."

Dib curled a lip at her accurate insight. "Real cute, Gaz. Thanks."

Gaz grunted and shrugged uncaringly. Knowing he'd get no more out of her as she engrossed herself in watching the unfortunate cow, he hopped off the couch and plodded upstairs. Pausing at the mirror in the opposite hall Dib again felt the foreign feeling of being lost sweep over him, and he brought up a hand to click against the glass. That light green color. Would he ever get used to it? And only having three fingers- while they were very bendable and manipulative, it still felt strange. Taking his attention from the sharply pointed digits and redirecting it to the mirror, Dib searched his own amber eyes.

He was still in there. His body might have been messed with without his consent, but he himself hadn't gone anywhere. Irken eyes were neat to look at though, he realized; a painting of various shades of yellows and golds and light browns all mixed together, the reflecting light giving them a depth and shine his human irises had only ever slightly captured whenever he removed his glasses.

Giving his changed visage a last conflicting once-over, Dib trotted to his room and switched his outfit for a pair of cozy pajamas. Drawing his blinds and curtain shut tightly, he waited in wonder for the room to be plunged into darkness.

Which it inevitably was, but his new eyes' night vision quickly took over, turning the dark interior into a less shadowy place and able to be seen almost as well as if it were still lit. Stripping the slightly bloodied top sheet off his bed, Dib gave in to the debilitating exhaustion as he plunked himself down on the mattress cover. Tugging the blanket up over him and pressing his face against the cool pillow, Dib gave an antenna a brief stroke.

"Maybe… being part Irken won't be so terrible after all…"

Yaaay, ch.2 is done peeps. I liked all the response I got on the first chapter, keep it coming! I love hearing from you guys! And thanks and hellos also go out to my repeat reviewers who I know from my other stories- its great to see you guys again :D

~R&R please~