Chapter Three- One White Lie

The door knocked very loudly, loud enough for Dib to hear it all the way upstairs in his room. The sound was enough to wake him from his peaceful sleep. He groaned in annoyance and glanced at the clock on his bedside table.

"Nine in the morning," Dib pointed out with a groan.

The knocking wasn't going away, so he reluctantly got out of bed and put on a shirt. He grumbled to himself as he went down the stairs to the front door. And upon opening it, he found an annoyed Zim carrying a pillow, blanket, and a whole bag full of assorted alien snacks.

"Would you mind answering your door a little quicker? I nearly broke my wrist from knocking so much," he complained.

Dib gave him a drowsy, questioning look. "We have a doorbell, you know."

Zim's eyes shifted right to left in embarrassment. "I knew that! Of course I knew that! Who says I didn't know that?!"

Dib didn't even answer him. He just looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Zim stood in silence, staring back at Dib, as if waiting for something to happen. "So… are you going to let me in," Zim asked impatiently.

"Yeah, sure. Come in," he said, opening the door a bit wider so Zim could come in.

"So… a movie, huh," Dib asked, scratching his well-toned butt and heading towards the kitchen.

"That was your original suggestion," Zim said, throwing his buddle of stuff on the living room floor. He began making a comfortable nook for himself on one side of the couch using his blanket and pillow. Originally, he never liked these human devices of comfort. But as the years went by, he became more accustomed to several earth practices, such as the viewing of movies, the devouring of sugary snacks for no reason, and of course, the casual, non-binding acts of mating.

"Alright," Dib said, pouring himself a glass of orange juice, "We've got… Bourne Identity, Fast and the Furious, The Last Samurai, Brokeback Mountain, Pirates of the Caribbean…," he started listing the ones he remembered.

"Pirates sounds good," Zim called to him from the living room. He stepped back to admire his handiwork and ultimately decided he was satisfied with it.

Dib walked into the room groggily, a glass of juice in one hand and a movie chip in the other. "Just a warning to you, Zim… you can't stay very long. I have to be somewhere at two," Dib said, putting the chip into its slot.

"Fine," Zim said carelessly, "Where are you going?"

Dib thought for a moment, still messing with the television. There was no need to get Zim worried or involved. It would probably only complicate things. "The doctor," he answered, "I think you hit me too hard in the jaw last week, because it hurts like hell to chew," he lied.

"Sorry," Zim said, watching Dib as he sat down.

"It's okay. Let's just enjoy Captain Jack," Dib said, pressing play on the remote.

The image of Elizabeth Swann and William Turner in a dramatic kiss stood frozen on the television screen. Obviously, the movie had been stopped for more interesting activities.

Dib moaned loudly against Zim's mouth. He was pinned beneath the alien on the couch, getting felt up like there was no tomorrow. His shirt was strung over the back of the couch sloppily while Zim's had been flung across the room somewhere.

Suddenly, in the middle of all their fun, Dib's watch started going off. He looked at it and sat up quickly, causing Zim to stop. It was twelve o'clock and he still needed to freshen up.

"Something wrong, Dib-Stink," Zim asked, a little confused.

"I'm going to be late," Dib said, grabbing his shirt.

"For your doctor's appointment," Zim asked.

"What? Oh, yeah," Dib said, getting up from the couch and turning off the television, "I still need to take a shower and get dressed. If you need anything, help yourself," he finished, running up the stairs.

Zim sighed, watching Dib through a furrowed brow. This was more an annoyance than anything, but he figured they could pick things back up once Dib got back from his appointment. But for now, he would go home and work a little. So he began bundling up his things and searching for his missing shirt.

"Now where did it go," he asked himself out loud.

Dib came down the stairs dressed in his usual black trench coat and smiley face shirt. It was almost impossible to make out the bullet proof vest he wore underneath it or the laser gun hidden in his coat.

Zim was sitting on the couch, fiddling with some small electronic gizmo.

Dib straightened his collar. "I'll walk you out," he said, heading towards the front door.

Zim picked up his things and walked out the door. Dib closed the door behind them and locked it.

"Come back in about two hours if you want. We'll have some more fun," Dib said as they neared the sidewalk.

"We'll see," Zim said, proud and aloof.

Dib rolled his eyes a little. There was no doubt he'd be returning, especially since Dib's house was open for the rest of the week. Zim was just too proud for his own good, one of the reasons he was so hard to get close to.

Another chapter for you to feast your eyes upon! Upon? Who says "upon" anymore? Maybe snotty English professors... but no one else.