A/N: Another chappie! Well, I think I got this (writer's block always haunt my ass). I sometimes hate not having English as my first language; it would be so much easier to write that way.

Oh well, sucks to be me. Here ya go!


"So, let me get this straight."

Zim shot his gaze down on the ground, defeated look on his face evident while pursing his lips uneasily.

"Your name is Vanellope von Schweetz, you live in a racing game called 'Sugar Rush', in a game console in an arcade on Earth?" The words got put together.

"Guess I didn't need to spell it out for you." Vanellope said, swinging her legs beneath where she was seated, to her like nothing but to Zim insanely strange dumb. He decided against yelling at her to stop and shifted himself on the jawbreaker he sat on. She sat on a candy cane log a small distance in front of him, with Gir sleeping on her lap.

"How in the name of Tallest did I appear here? It makes very little sense!" At the moment his hatred towards humans didn't matter much, in his logbook. Besides, he was unsure if this little girl origin was of the human race at all, after the news flash of being in a video game.

"How in the name of luminous licorice should I know, you doi? Maybe my friends caught a glimpse of you crashing in here or something." Vanellope's abstracted mind spoke out aloud, it was no question to the Irken. He had no interest in receiving help from a little girl, even though she may not be a human. He had always known himself to be rather swelled with pride; showing off as someone better working on his own. Well...there was Gir, in hence not being alone with the mission. He shut off the process in his thoughts.

"How about checking with them? I think my friend's colleague can help you fix that jalopy-thingy of yours." She pointed to the busted ship.

"I DARE you to say that again...piece of filth! That is a ship run by the mighty Irken race, which I'm part of! You insult it, you insult my origin, you little pest! Coming to that, I don't need your help!" Zim's yelled at her, bioling with anger, shaking of his fists redoubted. Adding more to it, she was not scared one bit; only annoyed.

"Oh, just shut it. If you refuse my help, fine. Just curious, what part of your ship is broken?" Vanellope asked. Zim facepalmed and answered with a slight growl.

"If you must know...I checked it a few moments ago. Even though it's Irken technology, I'm not very experienced when it comes to repairing flying vehicles. I may be stuck here permanently, in a manner of speaking. Although I could, I don't know how I would be available to leave this game console. This situation frets me to the core." Zim said, slipping his claws over his face an cupping it. Since the little girl had been saved by Ralph, she had more than learned, but wanted, to be considerate to people in trouble. Including an alien she barely knew.

"Hey, you son of a gun. Don't offer that face." She teased, a new glare shared with her as he looked up.

"I told you, I'm an alien. I was not given birth by a gun." She ignored that she had given a verbatim statement and continued.

"What I meant to say was; don't feel down. Look, I barely know you, but I think I want to help you. And no, I don't want you to mouth off at my offer. You're too predictable for your own good...which is bad." She stared up at the sky and patted Gir carefully, Zim's jaw that dropped because of her prediction.

Zim was, deep down, sick of pretending being confident, and this girl made him start to realize it. Come to think of it, he was a real ego. Even if it was a part of his nature to be strict, hard and straight-up mean, this little girl made him somewhat soft all the way into his squeedlyspooch. It annoyed him, but meantime it was welcome. Maybe that was why he hadn't shooed her away, instead they seated down and talked like it was completely normal. It felt queer, but good; and her being bonny and playful made it doubled.

He was turning humble.

Realization slapped him. He hated it.

He hated her.

"I told you, I don't want any of your help! I'm fine by myself." Zim avowed, ceasing by the last part. When intercepting his own words, it hit him as his cheeks turned dark green, proving the awkwardness taking place. He gave her a look and she grinned at him confidently. 'Oh no', he thought 'she cought me in a trap.'

She didn't say anything, instead she put Gir aside, walking up to him and let the raise of her hand towards him respond to what he said. They didn't have to talk and yet understood each other perfectly. Neither could disagree with the fact they had some kind of hidden person chemistry...but that didn't have to be liked; though it was still a fact...and Zim wasn't sure anymore if he hated it.

"Hey, my arm's getting tired, we have a deal or not?" Vanellope said, giving her held up arm support with her left hand, giving him a begging gaze.

The Irken gave the heaviest sigh he could muster, and hesitantly took a grip with his three-clawed hand on her little one, and they shook on it. Vanellope couldn't hide her excitement; it was painfully obvious to the alien. Zim rather awkwardly withdrew his hand and instinctively wiped his claw on his clothes; in which Vanellope was too happy to care about.

"Alright then..." Zim put a hand on the bouncy girl's shoulder, "lead the way."


A/N: Yeah, short, but I thought it would be pretty genuine to end it right there :D It was so fitting...gawsh I need to eat some snickers (I love snickers). Stay tuned, folks!