Chapter Two

Secret Life

A/N: Really? I have to remind you? I don't own IZ. NEVER HAVE NEVER WILL

*60 years later*

A guard drone switched off the light in the Robotic Utility hallway, and swiftly reported to the charging bunkers. All was quiet, clear, and just how the Tallest wanted it. He sighed, and thumped down the empty corridor.

Somewhere behind him, to his left, he heard a soft flickering sound.

The drone spun around, antennae straight up in the air.

"Who's there?" he growled, scanning the dark area. Nothing moved, nothing he could see anyways. His antennae twitched rapidly, trying to detect a sound, or maybe a presence. In the dim lighting, his old red-ish eyes dulled to near night blindness.

The old black stalks on his head slowly lowered, as the drone couldn't pick up any further movement. He grunted, and continued on his trek towards the nightly charge that kept him functioning.

In the shadows, a tiny figure watched as the oblivious Irken left, smirking at his lacking sensory skills.

Quick as lightning, smooth as silk, the shadow dashed from wall to wall, easily keeping out of plain sight. Pressing itself against the darkened wall, it peered out around the corner, bright magenta eyes scanning the area briefly.

All clear… so far, so good.

Crouching low, the shadow leaped across the width of the hall, inching its way towards the door. Grasping the handle with a small, three fingered hand, it opened the door. Taking one last backwards glance with its big magenta eyes, the shadow slipped in.

The label on the door read Robotic Spare Parts.

Once inside, the lights flickered on, and the figure pulled the hood from over its face.

Zim glared triumphantly around the room. His glassy wings flicked behind him, shimmering in the florescent lighting. He quickly dug around in the pockets of the robe he had snatched, retrieving a variety of tools. Dashing around, the tiny Irken began to gather bits and pieces from different boxes of supplies. Standing over his spot in the center of the room, he dumped his armful on the floor.

Zim separated the metal parts into pairs and specific piles, one for the arms, legs, and so on. Reaching for a tool, he quickly set to work.

With a record time of at least 15 minutes, Zim was screwing in the last screw to his creation. Opening the 'lid' on the top of its head, he reached down to his right for the final piece; the brain chip. He felt around on the floor, felt a little more, and finally realizing there was nothing to grab. Zim looked down, his eyes narrowing slightly, antennae lowering, wings twitching in irritation.

Crap…

Getting to his feet, he ran over to a shelf with a single box sitting alone, with a label that read Brain Chips and Stuff. On his very tip-toes, the winged Irken rummaged around in the box, only to find it empty. Growling lowly, he walked back over to his unfinished project.

An idea formed in his head, and Zim dug once again into the pocket of the robe. His pink snake-like tongue stuck out in concentration, eyes squinting. He made a triumphant noise, as his hand finally wrapped around something. Pulling it out excitedly his gaze rested upon…

Two paperclips and a few rusty pennies.

Zim sighed in disappointment, unhappy with his find.

It'll have to do for now…

Dropping the objects into the lid of the head, Zim hit a switch inside the metal dome somewhere, closed the top, and backed away. The creation rose to its feet, eyes glowing red. He noticed that it looked different than the others, in many noticeable ways, too.

It had a mouth that was currently pulled down into a serious frown. A single antenna on the top of its head stood straight up, though, it looked like it could bend, even if it was made of metal. It lacked a certain black symbol on its rather large grey forehead, but those were granted with proper manufacturing. Its hands were thinner, not quite as bulky the others, either. Instead of a circle on its middle, there was a square of color.

Zim didn't care how different it looked. It was his, and he had built it.

Crossing his arms, he stared down at his creation (even though it was barely 4 inches shorter than him).

"Address your new master, servant!" the winged Irken said loudly.

The SIR unit saluted sharply, red eyes narrowing in determination.

"GIR, reporting for duty!" it answered.

Wings twitched. Zim tilted his head to the side, a confused expression flashing across his face. "Gir? What does the G stand for?"

The little robot gave him a blank stare, tilting its head in the same manner, and the once red glow that pulsed of it faded to a light blue color.

"I DON'T know." It replied.

Suddenly, it began to bang its little metal fists against its big metal head, screaming and laughing at the top of its lungs.

Metal against metal plus screaming was really, really loud.

Zim's eyes widened, antennae falling back completely. He rushed forward, trying to muffle the sounds coming from the robot's mouth.

"Shut your noise hole!" he gasped. "You're gonna get me-"

The sound the door opening cut him off, and in the doorway stood the Almighty Tallest, looking tired, grumpy, and slightly angry.

"-caught."

The winged Irken dropped his hands to his sides, giving a half-apologetic-half-nervous smile.

"Oh, hey guys… funny seeing you here…"

The blue-eyed SIR unit clapped his hands and grinned like a smeet.

"Yay, we're doomed!" it cheered.

Zim spun around, wings buzzing in irritation. He bonked his little fist down on the top of its head. "Shut up!"

The robot giggled insanely, not at all fazed.

Zim hadn't really lived up to his name.

Scratch that. He hadn't lived up to his name at all.

He had barely grown since the Tallest had found him. His outfit was a little too big for him to begin with, so they never worried about a new uniform.

His wings were almost his full length, glittery and sleek. The stalks on his head were still a little too long, and honestly his eyes really only got bigger and brighter.

Zim was 119 now (just old enough not to be a smeet, and yet not nearly old enough to be an adult), but compared to his 60 year old self, he had changed.

Maybe not physically, but drastically in his mental state.

The tiny Irken had improved greatly in his educational abilities, excelling even beyond the Tallest at his age. He was swift and had a very smooth technique to his physical exercise and activities.

He had become far too clever and rebellious for the Tallest to completely control anymore. His snarky ego increased by the second, challenging almost everything the two taller Irkens had to throw at him.

A perfect example; breaking into the Robotic Spare Parts utility room in the middle of the night.

So there he sat, with his new creation screaming and blurting out random things.

Red ran a hand down his face tiredly. "Let's go over this again. Zim, what did we tell you about sneaking around at night and getting into rooms you're not suppose to be in?"

Zim looked down at his hands. "To not to." he mumbled.

"And what did we tell you about stealing things that don't belong to you?"

The wings on his back buzzed madly as he glared back up at them. "I didn't steal those parts! They were already in the utility room!"

Red narrowed his crimson eyes. "I'm talking about the tools you used to put those parts together."

Zim sat back down and didn't say a word.

Purple sighed, moving over to the little Irken. "You know we're not trying to be mean, Zim," he gently stroked the glassy wings. "We just want what's best for you…" he briefly met eyes with his partner.

What's best for US…

"And besides," stated Red. "Look at what you created."

Gir, as Zim had officially dubbed him, was spinning on the floor, demanding the carpet to 'make him a sammich'.

Zim winced, but ran over and scooped up the little robot, shoving him in the red Tallest face. "I did it though!" he shook Gir for emphasis. "I built my own SIR unit! And I did it in under 15 minutes!" he smirked. "How many Irken soldiers can say that?"

Purple glanced from Zim to Red, surprise etched into his face. Of course, they could do better, but it certainly was impressive

"I've been studying robotic anatomy for the past 20 years!" the tiny Irken continued. "Sure, Gir's not perfect, but he's fully functional and-"

"Gir?" Red interrupted. "You named it Gir?"

Zim shook his head, antennae waving slightly. "No… he kinda named himself."

Red groaned, pinching the area between his eyes, trying to dull the headache that was beginning to form.

"Red…" Purple warned.

The red Tallest mumbled something that didn't sound 'Zim Friendly', as Purple had come to call it. He slammed his forehead against his open palm.

"Look, Zim," he said in a voice that seemed to tight to be sincere. "I'm tired, Pur's tired, and we've got a big meeting tomorrow that doesn't involve you."

Zim didn't catch on. "Oooh, can I come?"

Red looked at him with an expression that held way too many unpleasant emotions. "Did you not just here what I said?!"

Purple quickly stepped in before things got out of hand. "Okay, enough. It's late, and if we don't rest, nobody will be happy." The Tallest made their way towards the door.

Zim tilted his head to the side, raising a hairless eyebrow. "I thought Irkens didn't need sleep?"

Red grunted. "We don't, but you do. We only need to recharge." Something hit his leg, and looked down to see Gir lying on the ground, smiling widely.

He grimaced, swung his leg back, and kicked the robot away in disgust.

"Piece of junk."

Zim narrowed his eyes and picked up the now bawling robot.

"He's not junk! For all you know, I could've invented a new Irken device capable of dominating worlds!"

The Tallest stopped in the doorway, staring back at him with wide eyes.

Zim's wings fluttered. "What?"

"Well, did you?" Red asked.

"Yes. No… maybe. It's a secret."

Red's eyes narrowed. "You wouldn't lie to your Tallest, now, would you Zim?"

"Yes. Wait, no- I mean…"

Red groaned. "Whatever. We're going, so you should be going, too."

He glared down at the crying robot in Zim's arms, before gliding out the door.

"And shut that stupid thing up!"

Zim narrowed his eyes, pulling Gir closer to his chest, and the robot slowly began to quiet down.

"It's not stupid, it's advanced."

A/N: Aaaaaww yeeeaaayuuh! Update already. Bet you weren't expecting this. I'm sorry I referred to Gir as an IT for a majority of the chapter. I love the little guy to death, but it was necessary. Loven those reviews! Keep it up!