Start Of IZ Christmas

Crystal like chilled gemstones littered the streets, jack frost painting its winter pictures on store clerk's windows. With cheerful and merry tunes in the air, and lights sparkling up the winter nights, it could only mark this as one thing: Christmas.

"Ah, the season of joy is upon us," Dib grinned, breathing in the heavenly frosty air. "Can you feel the love, Zim?"

Zim grunted disdainfully, glaring down at the specks of white on his boots in comtempt. "Well, I'm feeling something.</i> What 'time of joy' do you mean exactly?" As if he didn't already know.

"Christmas!"

Grunt. "And so I feared." The irken clenched his fists in anger as his eyes shot back and forth at the big city count down clock reading "10 more days", with that big blow up santa right between the clock, taunting him. What are you looking at, you big fat ham smelling human?</i> he inwardly growled, wishing he could rip that rubber grin off the inflatible's face. Stop smiling! You have nothing to smile about! You are up on a tower many feet up - in the cold!</i> ".......Stop looking at me!" he suddenly shrieked, flinging a hastily made snowball at the santa doll.

Dib blinked. "Um... I hope you're not going to try anything this year like that 'santa fiasco' thing you pulled a couple years ago," the boy muttered, glaring waywardly at his friend.

Zim sneered a bit, narrowing his eyes at the boy as he had a glaring contest with the santa inflatable. "I've learned my lesson.."

Smirk. "With you, we never know.."

Growl.




Slipping in and out of consciousness, all he could hear was the rush of water; he was drifting, drifting deeper into an ocean... with Mama.

"Mama! Look how deep I can go!"

"Joey, be careful of how far you go, sweetheart!"

"Mama! Daddy, ow! Don't hit me! Mama will be sad!"

"Don't hurt Mama!!"

Different voices slipped into his sleep, odd and foreign voices. Children? Adults?

"GIR, for Irk's sake, stop poking the child's head! He'll wake up when he wakes!"

"He sm'll funn-y": a little girl.

"Oh, his eyes are opening!" Was that a little boy like him?

"Excellent! GIR, go prepare a meal for the child; I don't think he ate today, or perhaps any day, for that matter." Foot steps walked away.

Joey groaned as he tried to gain control of the pounding waterfall in his head, drowning out most sounds in th background. He attempted to sit up on the couch, but his empty stomach sent brain waves to his head, sternly recommending he stay on his back, and probably get somethign to eat.

"Oh, so you're finally awake," a voice spoke, but from where? The child's eyes were still dimly adjusting to the strange surroundings. He could make out a variety of blurred colors: lilac walls, wooden flooring, and...a big green blob smack-dab in the middle of his vision. "Are you feeling better?" Ack! The blob moved a bit. It was a person?</i>

"Master, what does he wanna eat?" A voice from the kitchen. Yes, Joey could make out a small form at the door.

Zim turned to the boy, wringing a cloth and laying it amongst the child's forehead. "Are you hungry? When was the last time you ate, and don't lie," he warned.

"A-a couple days," Joey croaked, licking his dry and cracked lips, cracked from the cold.

The irken eyed the child with anger and sympathy, passing him a glass of water. "Why?</i>" he demanded, voice sharp and slicing. "Have you no food in your house? Surely you must have something!"

Joey bit his lip, grimacing from the bitter taste of dirt and dried blood on them. Darn, what could he tell him? That - at a tender age of eight years old - he had cooked all the meals? Eaten from a garbage? Chewed on his mother's pills for nourishment? "W-well I snacked some - not much...no meals.."

"Why?" Zim's voice was a little more demanding and concerned. The child didn't answer. ".....I see. Well, I suppose we'll discuss that later.

spooksister