I'm mainly a ZAGR writer (albiet a popular one), so it's highly unlikely any of you DATR fans have even heard of me. It is for this exact reason that I decided to dabble in a little DATR writing. I want to be popular and well-known in ALL the Invader Zim fanfiction community. Who knows? I might even whore out entirely and start writing ZADR. Although, that'll probably take a while.

I'm not against homosexual-anything, because I raised better than to judge people's lives illogically where I had no right to judge, but while love-hate relationships are so easy to write and make a lot of sense, I just can't entirely wrap my head around those two as a couple. Or, at least, WRITING them as a couple, because I HAVE read some ZADR, and like any other coupling for this show, there's those few diamonds in the rough that make it actually pretty good.

But enough of my ranting!

This is my first DATR story.

Lemme know how hard I fucked up.

This might turn into something more, if the feedback is good and I don't loathe the way these two are written. I got a little experience writing them in MHNY3, but, it's been a while. I'm pretty sure it's been at least a year. Yeah. Cause From Your Memory was published in 2011, so, yeah. About a year.


This story was based inspired by Madonna's "Revolver." I just can't get over it. It's perfect for Tak. I highly recommend it. And I don't even like Madonna. I was also listening to NJomza's "Nightmare," another song I highly recommend. I don't know, I just feel like that while Gaz and Tak are the same in their vicious potentials, Tak is so much more of a sex-kitten than Gaz. That smirk in "Tak; The Hideous New Girl" just killed any hopes she had of not being such a feindish predator.

Enjoy the story!

Invader Zim: DATR
"A Choice"

Some eight years ago (had it really been that long now?) he'd had a different arch-nemesis. A monster. Someone he'd been loathe to call an aquaintence since the day he'd met him in grade school. A tiny menace. It was a rivalry destined to escalate since the moment they'd been put into the same class. Destiny. That was all that it could've been describe as was cosmic intervention, some being with control over fate taking two beings on opposite sides of the universe for the pure entertainment of watching them battle.

Of course, it ended with a far less dramatic ending then anyone could've imagined.

For that previously interfering diety had more than likely been reprimanded for being the cause of such destruction and chaos on helpless, delicate little planet Earth. All of which was the direct result of bringing both the human, Dib Membrane, a slightly off-key child with infinite resources, and a less-than-mindful cockroach of an alien with far more advanced resources, a short-temper, and a wild trigger-finger who made up what he lacked in adequacy with his sinsister impressions. At that point there was only one thing they could've been driven to do to stop such fighting- they needed her. The one person Dib was genuinely afraid of. The one who rarely asked for anything, and who could bring him to his heels on a dime with a look. Who could bring the world down with that look.

His sister; Gaz Membrane.

Zim, the alien scum, had suddenly taking up and interest in his younger sibling practically the second she'd turned sixteen. Mainly because he'd seen her on her birthday, dolled up at her father's request and hating every minute of it. It wasn't like Zim had been invited. He'd seen the opportunity for a surprise attack on Dib, and had simply forgot his devious intentions the second he'd seen the girl. Zim had supposedly climbed into the house from the bathroom window, where Gaz happened to be fixing her stupid hair at the time. Dib had never really gotten the whole story. But the simple point was this; what Gaz had was off-limits to Dib now. Entirely. As it had been for several years now, and more than likely stay. The same went for Zim- not that he could probably become undistracted enough by his sister to devise a plan worthy of destroying anyways. Truly, if it was anyone but Gaz, such devotion would've been entirely pathetic.

The point was this, regardless; Dib now needed a new nemesis.

He'd gone through quite a long list. And if Zim wasn't pathetic for hanging all over Gaz, Dib certainly was dancing on that line with how he hounded after everyone. He'd even gone so far as attempting to strike up a fight with various mafia (at the same time, on occasion). But the only thing he could really do that would make them go up againts the infamous Professor Membrane's son was for Dib to murder someone. Someone important. And Dib couldn't just go around murdering people. I mean, come on, he wasn't that bored. All had seemed lost.

Until she came rushing back.

It'd been a day of glory for Dib. A bright red stain on dull gray sheets. He'd been hanging out in the park, at sunset, with his silbing and her (blech!) boyfriend, as well as his stupid dog-robot-thing, when it had happened. When they'd all seen the ship come barreling into Earth in the woods, just past the park. It wasn't hard to recognize the ship design, even with just a quick look at it. The sharp design unlike the smooth, more rounded design that Irk had as a standard. Zim had been on his feet in front of his sister in a minute, parking at GIR to return and stay next to her.

Not being one to be shown up, ever, by Zim's antics, Dib, too, got to his feet. He always carried something, in the event he found an opportunity to try and start a fued. Today it'd been an electric-sword, formerly a cattle prod, modified for Dib's violent purposes. He'd been driven so stir-crazy with boredom that one could always expected to find the boy in his lab, building something, if he wasn't out antagonizing stranger's.

She'd come from the shadows like a creature straight from the depths of Hell, eyes a blazing violet. She hadn't even bothered to disguise her probably now barely 5'3 frame. She'd gotten tall, but then again, she'd been taller than Dib when they were kids. Maybe she hadn't grown at all, and she just looked short compared to his towering 6' even. Her uniform had hardly changed, although the weapons she now had draped along her body were definitely new.

Zim had barked at Gaz to get out of here. She'd less-than-politely refused, plopping herself down on the picnic table a few yards back, with GIR on her lap. Apparently, that had been her compromise. Zim had growled, but otherwise said nothing to her.

"Hello, Zim," she spat. Her eyes darted to me, eying me up for a few seconds before spitting, equally venomous, "Dib."

"Tak," Zim hissed, as equally unfriendly. "What do you want?"

Tak's eyes darted behind him, the creepiest smile any of them had ever seen gracing her devilish features. Gaz's eyes narrowed at the look she was getting. But the intention was clear, even without the villainous monologue- Tak intended to steal something important from Zim. Or, in this case, someone.

Enraged at the threat against his little sister, Dib had lunged before she'd even had a chance to open her mouth. He'd blocked her access tom both Zim and, more importantly, his sister.

"You want Gaz?" He demanded, voice black with fury. "You have to go through me first."

A pixie's grin sent her face alight, with vicious glee fit for a psychotic killer.

And so Dib had found his new nemesis.

Oh, of course, she was a far more difficult task to handle than Zim had ever been, even on his good days. But Dib, in his rut, had disciplined himself to be better. And now he was at his physical peak. It wasn't like he had rippling biceps, but he was lean, agile, and he wasn't an ignorant little kid anymore. Sure, he had college instead of high-school to worry about now, but Dib didn't have an abnormally large head for nothing.

His and Zim's old rules were now thrown out the window. Murder wasn't out of the question anymore. It wasn't about exposing someone, or getting them out of the way to finish a mission. It wasn't about some petty fued or a childhood grudge. This was about revenge, with everyone's life on the life. At first, Zim had been pissed at the interference- if he died, Gaz would never forgive either of them. The compromise was, if Dib needed it, he promised to call Zim for help. But other than that, Tak was decidedly Dib's problem.

And for the past several years or so, he'd been loving every second of it.

Currently, Dib was racing through dark back alleyway after dark back alleyway. Given the chance, this might've been the situation he called Zim for, but thus far, he really hadn't had the opportunity to.

Tak was currently breaking yet another unspoken rule that Zim and he used to have- keep the fight to themselves. This was their fued, and unless it was something like Ultra PeePee (basically a plan of mass destruction, and not just the destruction for Zim) or that Mars/Pluto thing, the fight remained strictly between them.

But, as had been demonstrated many times over the past few years, Tak was not above threatening other people's lives to try and lure him into some form or another of deadly trap(s).

Which was exactly what he'd guessed she was doing right now.

For the past month, Dib had been following a stream of murders. A suspected serial killer targeting males in college up in Ohio City, a few hours west. Not too long of a drive from Dib's own college. At first, it was mainly out of morbid curiosity that he followed these murders. That was, up until he saw the photo of the most recent murder, with his still living brother. They were twins.

And both bore an unfortunate similarity to himself.

His roommates suspected nothing of what Dib was doing, and ever since Zim, he'd stopped trying to tell people about his crusade of fighting aliens to stop them from taking over the world. On top of that, Tak wasn't even trying to take over the world. She was just trying to kill his sister.

By this point, she'd modified a new hologram, unlike her old one, and only alike in the fact their features remained unnaturally attractive. She'd studied up on creepy appearances and, after switching look multiple times simply to screw with Dib (but at this point, Dib could see just her body language a mile away; he'd once even recognized her disguised as a supposedly drunk, fat, middle-aged man- the disguises had stopped after this particular incident, and she'd settled on her favorite), she now dawned her old, striking electric blue eyes, long tresses of fire-engine red hair, and flawless pale skin. The figure she chose was petite, like herself, but not without curves. She used her false looks constantly to her advantage. But since Dib wasn't exactly unattractive either, it was more a tool to get something than a strategy to buy her time.

His roommates were convinced, at this point, that Tak was actually Dib's girlfriend in a rock relationship. This was because Tak was not only attending the same school as Dib, and sharing every one of his classes for the sole purpose of making him constantly aware of her presence, but more than once, she had also showed up at his dorm. The first visit had been directly after a fight where Dib insinuated she had no idea where he lived, and shortly before she'd admitted herself to the school. It was Ivy League, very exclusive, and she wasn't even a citizen, so how she'd managed to do that was still one of the many mysteries surrounding Tak's devious little figure.

Tak had also made loose friends with his roommates, and often showed up to 'study' with Dib. Which, they always did study in the kitchen, but Dib knew she was really only there to antagonize him with sly comments only he'd understand, little threats where if overheard, might even seem endearing. On the off occasion they could've been laced with sexual undertones. In public, she was sweet, sometimes charming. She even had Dib's phone number, as a girlfriend should, and had once used texting to send him on a scavenger hunt for a bomb she'd hidden somewhere in his house. After several misleading clues, Dib had given up and called Zim to help him, as Gaz was already at said alien's house and unaware of the bomb entirely. They'd found it in five minutes, and Zim had used Tak's number to spam her with Plookesian Porn. Dib had asked why, and Zim had informed him it made all other species vomit at the sight of it.

And as far as Dib knew, Tak hadn't used a cellular phone since. Or even e-mail. Anything that could send pictures, he was pretty sure.

But right now, Dib was currently on a different kind of mission than to spam Tak with inappropriate and severely disturbing images.

He felt stupid for letting five people, practically kids, die already. He should've researched it better. He should've realized she was planning something to get his attention by using the papers he read every day.

God, he hated himself sometimes!

Why she was killing his look-alikes, he didn't yet know. But it hardly mattered, so long as he was able to stop her next one. This was a rule strictly between himself and Tak; if Dib caught onto her plan before she herself revealed it, it was stopped and a new one started. Tak didn't like continuing with a plan that Dib already knew.

After all, where was the fun in that?

Dib already knew her next target. She'd got one twin- she probably wanted the other one too. The second he'd found their address, he'd ran out of the house with the excuse of his 'girlfriend needing him' or something. Despite how disturbing it was to call the girl trying to kill you your girlfriend, it was an excuse both of them had used many times before.

Tak wasn't above such cruelty as stealing both children from their parents, and Dib never put anything past her. If Zim was a monster, Tak could be no less than the spawn of Satan himself.

He was just running past his second shortcut when he froze, glancing down at the GPS installed in his phone (built by himself; anything else was too unreliable) and looking back up.

The address didn't exist. It was an abandoned, run-down house in an equally abandoned neighborhood. A construction zone. But . . . this was impossible! His phone must've taken him to the wrong address or something. He began trying to take off the back, to check for damage, when it happened.

An unholy, high-pitched cackle rang out, echoing towards him from behind. Dib couldn't help but spin around, phone jammed back into his pocket to be replaced by a jacked, freshly sharpened knife. A very expensive gift from his sister for his birthday. She'd said, off-handedly upon giving it to him, "You'll probably need it eventually. And yours suck." Endearing words from Gaz, and another subtle sign that despite her lack of emotion, she really was pretty worried about him. She sent Zim over to check on him from time to time, forcing them to end up on neutral terms after so many years of co-habitation. They actually made a pretty good team, from obsessively knowing the others tactics by heart and being able to read what the other was about to do. It made for especial use whenever they fought Tak, directly or indirectly.

But now he was staring the devil in his face, and there wasn't time to be thinking about the sentiments of the weapon in his hand.

"Oh deary me," she mocked, an innocent smile on her face, but one far more sinister than it looked. "I believe the fly just fell into the spider's net. I've been waiting for you, Dib. What ever could have taken you so long?"

So that was the plan, his mind realized, immediately. Kill people and lure me to their address's. How many people would she have killed if I didn't notice?

But how did she fake the address . . .? Never mind, I don't have time for that kind of thinking!

"Tak," he spat, glaring at her. "You killed five innocent people because they looked like me? That's cruel, even for you!"

She shrugged, still leaning against the wall, next to what appeared to be the only exit to the court, her hands shoved in the pockets of her dark trenchcoat. "I rid your world of a bit more Dib. I suppose it's a start, right?" At this point she noticed his knife, and a giggle as high-pitched as her cackle radiated from her blood-painted mouth. "Nice toy, Dib. But- what is your human saying?- I believe you just brought a knife," one of her hands removed, an easily decipherable object in hand and pointed directly at him. Though it had clearly gone under personal modification. "To a gun fight."

Dib's eyes narrowed. "That's your master plan, Tak? Shoot me?"

"Why not?" She demanded, smiling, as pleasant as ever. "It's simple, final, with little room for mistaking a false death. Not like that time where I drowned you. You can't be resusitated from a gun-shot. Or, at least, it's extremely difficult. Too difficult, hopefully. And by the time anyone finds you, you'll have this," she removed another gun, but this one she held with a glove. "And all the murders will be framed on you. You'll have shot yourself, as far as your idiotic race is concerned. Which leaves only pitiful Zim in my way. I win. What's the problem?"

"A little anti-climatic, don't you think?" Dib replied, a brow rising at her. "After all your nefarious plans, you're just going to shoot me?"

She sighed, impatiently, "That's the thing with you and Zim- you had to be so dramatic. You two are worse than your adolescent females with your ostentacious attitude. It's positively shameful he acted with such carelessness. He's lucky your planet is stupid, or they would've noticed a long time ago."

Dib looked up at the sky. More specifically, the stars. So this was it. Almost four years of Tak trying to kill him, and now he was going to die. He couldn't make himself upset. This was bound to happen sooner ot later, as he couldn't stay young and strong forever. And the second his reflexes slipped up, he'd be dead. He'd hope he'd have more time, but, hopefully Zim could do a better job protecting Gaz than he could. But then again, not that many people would've lasted as long as he had. That was something to be proud of. So with a small smile on his face, he looked at Tak, looking her in her holographic blue eyes.

"Alright then," he held his chin up, tensing his chest as he prepared to take the bullet. "Go ahead and shoot me."

His smile made her wary. She wasn't going to aim for his chest or his heart- that left too much room for error, that someone could save him if she missed. Tak was an amazing shot, but whose to say he wouldn't move? And if a worker or someone in the other court heard, what would she do then? She only got one shot before she had to disappear. She fully intended to blow his brains out. And he knew that.

So . . . why was he smiling?

"Why are you not groveling?" She demanded, angrily, eyes darting around suspiciously. "What have you got planned? Is Zim somewhere around here? COME OUT, ZIM! I KNOW YOU'RE THERE!"

"Whoa, Tak, calm down," Dib encouraged, eying her paranoid figure with disbelief. "Nobody is here. It's just you and me. Unless you keep shouting. Then I'm sure you'll attract as much attention as you want."

She huffed, irritated. He was right. If she kept yelling, eventually someone would call the cops and complain.

Just move on with the plan, her mind snapped.

"MiMi," she barked out. The little cat appeared in an instant, from seemingly nowhere, as she should have. "Guard the alley. Let no one pass while I finish up here."

As always, without a word or an acknowledgement, the blue streak of a robot darted off into the night, to do as her master said.

"For someone against dramatics, you're taking an awfully long time," Dib pointed out. He was starting to get nervous. He wanted to die content, not a jumble of misplaced fear.

Tak smirked, the gun focusing on his head. "Oh, poor, pitiful Dib. You didn't think I'd forgotten your human right to a last request, did you?"

Okay, now he was confused. "That's not a tradition, Tak. It's considered an act of mercy."

"You've been a worthy opponent for four years today. Did you realize it's our anniversary?" She mocked, with a grin. "At any rate though, I believe you've earned the right to a last request. Well, more of a last choice. You have two options."

"I'm listening," he said, crossing his arms expectantly. He might as well listen. It wasn't like he had anything else to do.

She smiled at his compliance. "Choice one; you can die, now, nervous as you're quickly becoming." She cocked the weapon, another glint in her pixie gaze. "Or you can die happy."

His brows burrowed. "What?"

"It's a simple question, Dib," she hissed, quite obviously becoming irritated with him. "Do you wanna die happy?"

Do you wanna die happy?

The words echoed in his head, not quite able to comprehend the absurdity. On the one hand, he could just let her shoot him now, and get it over with. Or he could let her do what, exactly, that would make him happy?

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What's the catch, Tak? What could you possibly do that could make me happy?"

She flashed a wider grin. He could see her canines, which she'd made just a little sharper and more prominent than the average human's. She'd been him before, on the hand. It had hurt like a mother, and he still had the scar to remind him of that event on the bridge between his thumb and index finger.

"The only catch is I would then be taking something I am almost entirely positive you have," she said, calmly. "Don't worry though. It's more than likely you'll be dead before you even notice."

Dib swallowed, harshly.

Do you wanna die happy?

Eh . . . I'm gonna die anyways, he reasoned. What's the worst that can happen?

"Alright, sure, why not?" He said, scoffing. "Let's see if you can make me happy."

A very unfamiliar, dangerous look reached her eyes, the tiniest of smirks on her mouth.

"Perfect," she purred, viciously, raising the gun and hitting a few buttons. Dib paled. She'd lied to him. "Now hold still."

And she shot him.

Dib came into awareness a few hours later, blinking hazily as he felt a warm pressure leave his body. All he could see was this green haze disappearing behind a black one. And then he realized- his glasses were off too. Well great. He squinted, trying to decipher what was going on. He was pretty sure the black haze was a wall. His vision was slipping unhelpfully between entirely impossible to his usual blindness. He gave up and tried to figure out what was going on with him.

Dib became quickly alarmed as realized his predicament. He was tied to a chair. No only that, but he was also completely bare, stripped down naked as the day he was born. Thankfully the chair was metal, lacking the potential to give him splinters in place splinters should never be. Not even his socks were on. He was just . . . why was he naked? When did this happen? Where had he even been before this?

He groaned, blinking harshly to try and relieve the unnatural fuziness. At least without his glasses on a normal day, undrugged, he could make out general figures. This was just ridiculous. It looked like someone had wet the canvas of his vision and just smeared it all over the place. He felt dizzy. But oddly, when going to assess his body, he felt oddly . . . euphoric. Like God had just give him a hug and a high-five. True, he was kind of tired, but that feeling was far outweighed by this feeling of pure, relaxed bliss. Every muscle felt like it had just been given a small, personal massage.

. . . Exactly what the hell had happened to him?

"Ugh," he groaned again, tilting his head towards where he assumed the ceiling was. It was kind of dark in here. For all he knew, he could be on the roof. "How do I get myself in these kinds of situations?"

"So I'm guessing the drugs wore off, then?"

His head snapped towards the immediately familiar voice, panic rising in every fiber of his being. His very cells were quivering as it all came rushing back to him. Tak had shot him. He should be dead. Instead he was trapped to a chair, naked, and had lost an unknown amount of time to some side-effect of drugs.

And if his vision wasn't screwing with him, she, too, in her hologram now (because he now knew the green blob disappearing behind the wall had been her), was completely naked. There was no extra colors to insinuate clothes on her. So unless she'd been wearing all nude beneath that trench coat of hers, this was a really straight-forward situation.

Tak had just screwed him. By the feel of it, multiple times.

And he coudn't remember a thing.

God damn it!

She grinned, or so he assumed by the pearly white that appeared on the general thing that was her face, as the realization sunk in on his face. "Are you alright?"

Her question held no concern whatsoever. She was mocking him. Pointing out to him that she knew he was distressed, and he could do nothing about it. Dib continued to blink rapidly, unable to form sentences for the situation.

"Oh, that's right, your glasses," she turned her back on him, picking up what he assumed were his glasses and slipping them on his face. After seeing blurs, glows, and blobs for ove several minutes now, the change was like comparing fog to diamond; startling. "Better?"

Dib gawked, quite blatantly. Tak's hologram was . . . accurate, to say the least. He guessed that she hadn't been wearing it the entire time thouh, by the fact she hadn't been wearing it when she left the room. That was probably why she looked so comfortable in front of him naked now; it wasn't her body he was looking at. It was a fake.

And he couldn't have resented her more for the lack of equal grounds.

So, really, all he could think to say to her at the moment was, "I really hate you sometimes."

A coy smile appeared on her lips. He resisted the urge to shudder. Oh god, she'd probably been kissing him too, hadn't she? He'd probably kissed her back, actually. And his hands had probably been untied at some point, given by the slight discoloration on her waists. Bruises. Finger-shaped bruises.

Oh god.

Just- fuck. (1)

"That's not what you were saying an hour or go," her eyes went towards the roof, index finger touching her chin. "Or, was it several?"

He gawked again. Jesus Christ! How long could a person last, especially under the influence? Why was he not exhausted right now?

She shrugged, looking around the room as she began putting her clothes back on. So apparently she had worn something under the trenchcoat. What a waste, if this was her intention all along. She was crazy. Dib knew that. But she'd never looked more crazy to him than she did now. This was just one line too far. With Zim, he'd never even dreamed he'd pull some weird crap like this. He'd expected, despite the whole 'girlfriend' thing, that Tak understood that some boundaries demanded respect. But apparently, she hadn't.

And he'd literally just been fucked over because of it.

"Tak, seriously, what the hell?" Dib demanded, tugging at his restraints. He'd never wanted to hit her more than he did now. Chivalry be damned, if she wanted a fight, she would get one. And it wasn't like they hadn't attacked each other before. He felt this attack would be entirely justified, considering he'd pretty much just been raped.

"What?" She demanded, slipping her shirt over her head. "You said you wanted to die happy, I made you happy. Unfortunately, the drug wore off too quick. Our . . . activities flushed it out of your system quicker than I expected. So you're just going to have to be aware when I shoot you."

"I'm not happy!" He shrieked, furious.

She paused, a lookg appearing in her eye. "You're not?"

"NO!" He barked out, glaring at her. "I wake up to find myself tied to a chair, naked, with you naked, and while I have a general idea of what happened, you basically stole three hours from me!"

She smirked. "That's not the only thing I stole."

"Don't worry though. It's more than likely you'll be dead before you even notice."

Damn perfect recall . . .

His brow rose. "Oh? And what else did you do, then?"

"I assume you still had your virginity, correct?"

He ground his teeth together.

She sighed. "If you're cross about not being able to remember, I did make a bargain with you. Irkens don't go back on their bargains."

Dib's eyes narrowed, suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

And suddenly she was straddling him, mouth dangerously close to his. "I'll just have to make you happy again, won't I?"

He couldn't breathe. This was insane. She was insane.

And on top of that, she was now sitting on it.

He fought to keep from groaning.

The gods, more than likely the same ones who had started this whole mess, then had mercy on his poor soul and Tak's PAK vibrated, doing uncomfortable things to him when she too shook lightly. She reached into her PAK, removing a communicator and fiddling with invisibe antennae.

"What is it?" She asked, accent pinching her words especially much. Her eyes widened, and she frowned, nodding. "Well done, MiMi. I'll be there in five minutes. Make yourself scarce."

She rolled her neck, getting off of him and throwing her trenchoat, the only thing missing from her ensemble, over her shoulder.

"It seems your sister and her boyfriend somehow managed to track you, regardless of my careful planning." She stated, neutrally. Like this was just another day, and nothing unusual (like, say, having sex with your arch-nemesis) had happened. "It seems we'll have to finish this another time, Dib."

"What?" He shrieked, struggling. "You're just going to leave me here for them to find? Like this?"

Tak rolled her eyes, picking up his knife from its unnoticed, discarded place on the floor and slicing his hands. He made a move to lunge at her but stopped, noticing his legs bound. She placed the knife in his hand, turning her back on him. It would take a few seconds to cut through all of the binds. That was all she needed.

"See you around, Dib." She called, off-handedly, waving over her shoulder as she stalked out.

Unable to spare the time gawking after her suddenly much more noticeable figure and that previously unnoticed swish of her hips when she walked, Dib quickly began cutting himself out of the many ropes she'd tied around him. He'd barely managed to get his boxers on when he heard the unmistakeable sound of his sister and Zim, calling (and in Zim's case screeching) his name. He swore and quickly shoved his legs into his jeans.

Dib had just managed to tug his shirt over his head when he heard the door to the house burst open, his sister loudly calling his name.

"Something smells . . . strange," Zim muttered, looking around the house.

His PAK was locked onto Dib's cell-phone signal. Gaz had called him saying that his roommate's were looking for Dib. He hadn't come home since he'd ran out, saying something about his 'girlfriend'. A code for Tak. An absurd code, but one she understood. She hadn't wasted time dragging Zim on a chase, only to see he -or at least his cell-phone- wasn't moving its place from a neighborhood currently under construction in the shittier part of town.

"Dib!" Gaz barked out again. "Where are you?"

"In here!" He called, finally. He emerged, looking none-for-the-worse, aside from a few unconcerning scratches on his face, messed up hair, and a frustrated disposition. "How'd you guys find me?"

It was only when they were in the same room that it hit Zim, making his antennae shoot so far up that they knocked the wig off his head. He stared, glossy-eyed a moment, before leaning over and falling to his knees, gagging. He stumbled to the window, throwing it open, disregarding the fact he'd probably just broke it and inhaling deeply.

Gaz looked at him, confused. "What?" Her gaze darted to Dib. "Did you fart or something?"

"No!" He shouted, defensively.

Zim shook his head rapidly, shooting Dib a horrified gaze.

And it was then Dib understood.

Zim knew.


"Explain," he growled, antennae straining at the intense wave of smell coming from Dib. "Now."

They were now back home, Zim unable to stand the smell now perferating the little house. Gaz had been yelling at both of them the whole way home, demanding answers, but an embarrassed Dib had insisted he'd explain back at the house (Membrane's of course; his daughter still lived their after all, and Zim refused to let Dib anywhere near his base with that disgusting stench on him) and Zim just refused to acknowledge her entirely.

But the story had now been told, Zim leaning next to the open window and avoiding Dib as much as possible. Gaz could smell nothing, but Zim had said it was an Irken thing.

Gaz couldn't keep her brow down. "So . . . are you guys a thing now . . . or . . .?"

Dib sighed, running a hand over the mussed up scythe of hair on his head. "I don't think so. I mean, to be honest, I have no idea what's going through her head right now. She's crazy as hell."

She scoffed. "Obviously, if she's willing to practically rape you."


Zim cleared his throat, interrupting them.

"I believe," he began, slowly. "This was more a message for me than either of you."

The room went silent.

Dib threw his hands up. "I don't even want to know now. I'm going to bed."

"Sit," Gaz hissed, when he made a move to stand. He did so, begrudgingly. She looked back at Zim. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed, rubbing his temples. "Tak is indeed out of her mind. Irkens, when they mate, male or female, release a pungent odor of themselves so forceful it's completely intolerable to other Irkens. It lingers, after the initial release, for about a week, after which it's quite clear to other Irken's who that creatre belongs to. Effectively, since I am the only other Irken on this planet, I can only imagine that this was her way of completely and wholly staking her claim over Dib to me."

Gaz's eyes narrowed. "You? Why you?"

Dib was completely exasperated at this point. "Hey, I already got raped by one arch-nemesis today, I don't need to go for two!"

Zim's face contorted in blatant disgust. "Don't be vile, Dib-stink. We aren't having some pitiful love-triangle over you; this isn't one of your operas for soap. Tak is- or was, now- threatened by my continuing ties with you, for some reason. This was her way of claiming you, as her 'arch-nemesis', if you still want to call it that, her mate- basically everything about you is now hers. And therefore, hers to kill, if she's so inclined."

Dib paled, then groaned, burying his face in his hands a moment before looking at him again. "So she's still going to try to kill me?"

"Irkens aren't normally as romantic as humans when it comes to this kind of thing," Zim informed him, bluntly. "Mating back home is strictly for property and ownership claims over a thing, whether it be a slave or a partner. And, actually, we don't even have to mate. We just have to release the scent on it. So the sex, as you call it, was entirely unnecessary." A wicked grin was shot Dib's way. "She apparently just couldn't resist you, Dib-monkey."

Gaz gagged. Dib felt like the room was spinning.

"I hate my life." He muttered, throwing an arm over his eyes. "I really hate my life."

"Well, think of it this way, Dib-stink," Zim said, reassuringly, though the mocking undertones were dripping from every word. "If she's done it once, she's probably going to do it again. And the bond goes both ways. Don't the males of your species live for sex? As her mate, you have the right to demand it right back. You now have an outlet for consistant sex, should you desire it."

"I'm so done with this conversation right now," Gaz announced, standing up and covering her ears as she headed towards the kitchen. "I have no desire whatsoever to hear about my brother's now-existent sex life!"

Zim followed after her, careful to stay towards the edge of the room, so as to remain as far from Dib as possible. As he would for the next two weeks, as apparently, Tak's pent-up odor was more pungent than most.

But for the moment, he simply burried his head in his hands, and made a decision to text his roommates to let them know he'd be staying at his house instead of the dorm tonight, so they wouldn't worry about him.

Do you wanna die happy?

Next time, Dib thought, decidedly. I'll just say no.

(1) I just think it's funny he's freaking out and he doesn't even realize yet that he's about to get shot, too.

I really intended this to be T-rated, to attract more people. Not everyone wants to read M. But I couldn't make this plot work without Tak's . . . ugh . . . activities. My compromise was to just block out the sexy-time, since I don't like writing that stuff anyways.

I feel like I did a pretty okay job. I might make fanart of Tak's appearance. Or one you lovely people could! :D

I always like the fanart I get sent.

Anyways, I hope my first olive-branch into the DATR community wasn't insulting! I couldn't even make myself read DATR stories, some of them were so annoying (mainly because there was no delicious ZAGR, and I had to keep reminding myself it was a DATR story, not a ZAGR *for shame*), but of the few I read, this was basically what I got out of them, with my own twist.

Hope you enjoyed!

Sincerest Wishes,