AN: I would love to thank every single reviewer for giving me such nice feedback. I'd like to thank some people in particular, but I don't want to play favorites so I'll just say that you know who you are...maybe. Anyway, thanks for making my first finished Invader Zim story so memorable. It's taken forever to finish but I think it's ended well. Now, how about giving this story a few good last reviews!

Some Kind of Crazy Love Potion

"The End"

Dib had to admit that the size of his head was not as large as the sudden and completely surprising swell of pride (and ego) caused by Zim's pleasurable giggles. To take the alien down like that made Dib wonder if Zim even knew how he was acting. Probably not. Drunk on this feeling they shared, it wasn't hard to phase out everything else. Nothing felt better than to let go. It had only been a few hours earlier when they began this romp under the sheets, brought on by Zim's pleading and Dib's desire to somehow weave the boy into his life. Hell, he wanted his daughter to know her origins (strange as they were) and what a person to make that existence known! Dib imagined Zim explaining his glorious home planet to Ima as a bed-time story.

Of course, that would mean Zim had to accept his daughter. One step at a time, Dib told himself.

Dib leaned into Zim's hot neck to kiss and feel on his lips the vibrations of an alien's moans, soft and happy. Dib lay on top for what felt like the millionth time, yet each moment felt new again as if his body wanted to forget the pleasure so that the next experience was virginal and explosive. Was that the beginning of love? Wanting to feel something over and over and over again? Sounded to Dib like greed, but this didn't feel so greedy. He wanted Zim to enjoy this as much as he did.

"What's it like for you?" Dib asked sleepily. Zim entangled in a sheet and barely awake answered, "It feels good." Zim lay on his side and looked the human in the eye. "Why?"

Dib shrugged. Zim seemed to be a blur. His glasses were somewhere.

"Good. I..." Dib didn't know why. "I dunno. Guess I wanted more details."

"Oh." Zim frowned and blushed. He pulled the sheet up to his chin and closed his eyes.

Dib smirked. Don't do it Dib. Pick your battles.

You can always ask again, he thought as he fell asleep.

"Are you going to sleep?"

Dib's eyes shot wide open. Zim was looking down at him with unfocused red eyes.

"I thought you were asleep. Zim it's like...whatever time in the morning. Go to sleep, you look tired as hell."

"But I'm not done yet."

"Zim you've gotta learn some control. We can't have sex twenty-four-seven." Zim looked at him dumbly. "Besides," Dib added. "I'm so tired and I don't think it would be good."

"In the morning then?" Zim asked hopefully. Dib sighed sleepily, "Yeah, just go to sleep."

And in the morning...well...two years later but still in the morning...

Zim was sprawled on his back, his precious and life sustaining pak on the floor. The thin cables that connected him to the machine woke him after they became tangled around his throat and foot. Yes, there was that much cable. Zim untangled himself and reattached his pak. After two years of dealing with the damned pak in such a manner, one would think Zim's superior Irken smarts could come up with a solution to the problem. Correction--problems--one being Zim was lazy, two being...well, dumb isn't quite the right word. Special. Dib would say special.

And was very distracting. As soon as Zim reattached his pak, the problem was done and over and his fluttery mind moved on to more pleasing thoughts and devious designs, as in: Dib is in the shower naked and slippery. That appealed to Zim very much even though the past three days had consisted of rather violent sex, very pleasurable, but nonetheless violent and bruises often were part of the package. Of course Zim was usually the recipient of the marks as he liked to take it rather than give it. The missionary style was his favorite position.

Zim wrapped himself in a robe he found on the floor and made his way to the bathroom where he could hear the shower and Dib's occasional humming. Quietly he took off of the robe (why did he even put it on?), stepped into the open shower stall, and wrapped his arms around Dib's wet body, pressing his cheek to Dib's back and sighing contentedly. Dib smiled and turned around to catch Zim in a wonderful morning kiss. The shower water moved between them, warm and soothing, slick and tasteless. Dib reached behind and turned off the water.

"You missed most of my shower Zim. I was done rinsing off." Dib and Zim both dried themselves mechanically, their eyes blind to everything but the other's body. After dressing they ate a light breakfast with Ima, whose meal consisted of a very messy cereal. She giggled at her soggy o-shaped food when she discovered she could half-way stretch a gooey piece over her fingers like edible rings.

"Ima, don't play with your food," Dib berated gently.

"But lookit," she said simply, holding up her new jewelry. Dib smiled and left her to her imagination. Zim frowned at the mess she was making but held his tongue. After Zim discovered he held a rather large amount of power over his offspring, he found that he didn't really want to use it. He didn't like being told what to do and he found it very hard to order his own flesh and blood around, especially when she was so young and just beginning to discover the pleasures of life. Besides, Dib was the one who jumped on her innocent mistakes; he had an innate sense of fatherhood that Zim did not have, a sense that he needed to develop if he was to ever have a relationship with his daughter...and Dib. That was the biggest issue between them. Ima and Zim. Zim and Ima. Stuck together by a weird twist of fate, bound together by Dib who was the glue that kept them whole.

Zim had to admit it was a situation far better than anything, anywhere, anytime, any-whatever...what would he be doing now if not for this new family? It was a family. He might be dead or a wandering, homeless ex-Invader, no purpose, no destination. At least this was something.

And something was better than nothing.


"I can't believe Ima is starting her first day of school," Dib remarked as he looked back at his five year old daughter in the rear view mirror. She wore a cute pink dress that was offset by her narrowed blue eyes. She did not seem happy and she glared back at her father through the mirror. Zim turned back sensing her malicious intent and reprimanded her gently not to make such faces at the students, and dare she try, the teachers. Ima fiddled with the fringes of her dress and then the bouncing blonde curls atop her head. Hidden deep in the curls were two black antennae, but the holographic image cast by a tiny chip (implanted in a secret place on her body) was so powerful that it hid them well.

"Father, I dislike this frilly uniform," she spat and promptly crossed her arms. "I wish to wear something less...girly."

"Tomorrow, sweetie. The least you can do is wear it once. Grandpa did get it for your birthday, remember? When you get home we'll burn it or bury a celebration of your first day."

"Yes," she grinned, "that would be acceptable." Ima glowered at the approaching school as Dib drove to the front. Both Dib and Zim got out to see her off. Dib bent down, hugged and kissed her, wished her luck, gave her a reassuring smile. Zim sighed and looked at her woefully, as if his mind had wandered; yet, he still had enough consciousness to hug her as well, though, this hug was warmer than some in the past. Ima was used to her "mother's" seemingly cold behavior but had accepted it as a part of Zim's Irken heritage. Her "mother" had been an abandoned soldier, one who had fought and lost, one who had become pregnant unwillingly, and one who had suffered because of it. These were things taught to her openly. Secrets were not an option in this family.

Ima knew her parents loved each other in a way no human wife and husband could comprehend.

When the little disguised Irken girl was halfway inside the building, other children and adults pushing by her, she looked back and saw her parents exchange a brief kiss. She smiled for a moment before more pressing matters flooded her mind.

There were students to be conquered and a new world to explore.


"Could I have one more kiss?"

"One more, then I have to go."

"You're teasing me."

"I like to...okay, that was your kiss, now I've really got to go!"

"Oh please, what will happen if you're an hour late?"

"An hour?"

"Well...ten minutes, but come on!"

"Nothing will happen if I'm late. I just don't want to chance it. Don't you have to be at work too?"

"Yeah, but I want to be late. One more time, please, I won't see you for a whole day."

Dib broke down under Zim's pleading. Stolen kisses were Zim's favorite thing, especially in the morning, and he always tried to stretch it out into a heavy makeout session, very heavy foreplay (Seriously, Dib thought once, it's like hard core porn with clothing on!) or a quick one on the sofa.

Dib rolled his eyes and complied with his lover. "You have to go to work today Zim. You're going to get fired," Dib warned but continued to fall into the passionate moment.

"Don't care." Dib began to remove his pants until Zim snatched his hands away; no, he said, and simply pulled the zipper while undoing his own pants. He pulled Dib to the nearest wall, pressed himself against it, and told Dib to do him here really fast and really good. How could Dib decline? In a matter of seconds Zim was suspended, his legs wrapped around Dib, his back crushed to the fruity wallpaper, and Dib, slipping so easily inside, was like a hook on which he hung. It felt like flying.

All Dib could think of was how convenient Zim was without his pak. Didn't have to worry about walls or laying flat on the bed anymore (or the floor, or table, wherever...) Dib thrust a few more times and came, Zim following and sighing happily.

"Now I'm really late," Dib mumbled. Zim stuck his tongue out at Dib and composed himself as Dib went to the bathroom to refresh his once pristine hair and unwrinkled pants. It wasn't that bad, meaning his looks, not the sex. The sex was great. Okay, he had to admit it was more than great. Besides, it's not like his father would fire his own son, especially one whose lover has access to some of the most advanced technology earth would ever see in this century.

Dib found Zim in the kitchen with a glass of freshly poured orange juice.

"Drink your vitamins, Dib-human."

"Thanks mom."

"Ha ha." Zim sat at the table without even looking in Dib's direction. A sour look crossed his face and was made even more distasteful when Dib bent to give him a goodbye kiss.

"What's the sudden mood change?"

"Mood change. I do not mood change."

"Well for somebody who just had amazing sex you seem pretty moody to me...what's up?" he asked more seriously.

Zim set his red eyes on Dib's furiously. "Are we going to get married?"

Dib had to bite back a laugh. "Married? What are you talking about?"

"Your sister and Keef are getting married. Are we supposed to get married? It would make our relationship more...significant." Dib thought about such deep implications. "We have been together for five years, but what does that mean?"

Dib asked, "Are...are you saying that think that we aren't in a valid relationship?"

"No! But aren't most people married if they have children?"

"Yeah I guess, but we aren't most people. Don't you think it would be kinda hard for us to get married. You're an alien, we're both guys, sorta, and you'd be exposed to all sorts of government crap that you really don't want to deal with."

"What government crap?"

Frustrated, Dib slid into a chair and said, "I dunno...taxes!" Dib turned to Zim sharply. "What is this really about? You know that I care about you."

"What if you got tired of me."

"I'm not going to—"

"It could happen. I need some assurance that you won't leave me."

"Zim you can never assure anything with marriage. People get married all the time, promising to stay together forever and then BAM! a few months or years later they split. I don't want to say I ever divorced Zim. It's easier to explain things to Ima now, rather than mess her up more than she's already going to be." Dib groaned then added. "I didn't mean that in a bad way. I love where we are and this works for us. I just don't understand why you think I'd leave—"

"I'm pregnant."

The words hit Dib hard. He mumbled a feeble, "Wh—what?" Zim sighed and put his head in his hands, as if to hide from Dib and this painful fact.

"You can't be pregnant. take birth control!" Zim let his hands slide from his face so that only his eyes showed. Show they did, regret and shame. He looked at Dib sadly.

"You forgot?" Zim nodded yes.

"Oh God. Oh God." Dib got up fast and threw his arms around Zim, whose tiny form was lost in Dib's grasp. He whispered into Zim's antennae. Words of encouragement and love.

He understood. "Is that why you asked me about getting married, because you're pregnant, because you were afraid I'd leave you?"


"Oh Zim I'd never leave you because you're having a baby. I was so happy when Ima was born."

"I know."

"Are you happy with her now?"


"Are you going to have this baby?"

"I wouldn't have been afraid of you leaving me if I wasn't."

"So you're going to...we're going to have another baby?"

"If that's what you want."

"I want whatever you want."

"Well, so do I. What do you want?"

"I would love another kid."

Zim lifted his head to regard Dib. He looked smug suddenly. "On one condition though."

"That is?"

"I get to name it this time."

the end