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Gaz's Best Friend	By : KTherese Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > Het- Male/Female Views: 3434 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Deus Ex Machina and His Machine
Gaz hated school. She hated her teacher, who treated everyone like a moron. She hated the ugly neon orange and the pus white. She hated the squeaky desks. She hated the disgusting food and the smells of chalk and B.O. She hated the other kids, who all looked the same to her. The other kids made fun of Gaz, and at first it made her angry. Now it just seemed like the music that played in the elevator at her Dad’s labs, non-existent. What she noticed amused her slightly, and then was quickly brushed off.
Gaz did have a close friend though. His (her, it? Gaz didn’t give it a sex, that was too physical, and she preferred the mechanical) name was GameSlave. He was endlessly entertaining. His complicated circuitry was more intelligent than any human brain. And he did exactly what she wanted with just a touch from the tips of her fingers and slight pressure from the pad of her thumb. She would sit on the steps that entered the school, just playing her Gameslave, and her flesh would slowly turn into pixels as her mind dove deeper…deeper…and then the world was gone, and her brainwaves became electric. After winning a game, she would sometimes try to shoot sparks out of her fingertips, certain that she had absorbed some of the machine’s essence. But Dib never fell to the ground in a charred heap, even if she poked him between the eyes as hard as she could. If you can’t beat ‘em, ignore ‘em, Gaz thought, so on that humid, misty afternoon reminiscent of Irish fields and tornado warnings, she perched in her usual place and began her siege on the Vampire Piggies.
But then she felt something amiss. It wasn’t exactly a bad feeling, but it was powerful enough to pull Gaz away from her piggies. She turned her head toward the source of this aura.
A young man, maybe in his early twenties, was sitting next to her. And that was all she saw of him, as her eyes slid almost sensually down his arms and at the Gameslave he was playing as artfully as a marionette or a cello.
And Gaz saw something in those hands that she had neseenseen before in anyone else but herself, something her child’s mind wouldn’t put into words until much later. In the movement of his long, pale hands, in the flexing of the tendons and the rounding of his knuckles, Gaz saw passion and cool determination. She was losing herself in those movements just as she lost herself in her games.
“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? A little girl shouldn’t be looking at such a violent game, though. I could go to jail for corrupting a minor.”
Gaz nearly jumped out of her skin, as much from the sudden stillness of the boy’s hands as from the sound of his voice. Se turned and looked at his face. It was softly freckled, the eyes blue, his cheekbones sharp. His hair was dyed red as dried blood and tied back into a loose ponytail that stopped just past the bottom of his neck. His lips were the pinkest she had ever seen, and they were pressed tightly together. Gaz could see the little raspberry colored crescent of moisture on the lower lip. She knew he was trying not to laugh at her, and for once in her life she didn’t have a comeback. Finally she fixed his eyes with her fiercest glare.
“I’ve seen worse. I’ve done much worse.”
His smirk finally broke free. “You know, I don’t doubt that, little girl.”
“I may look like just a little girl, but I can make grown men cry.”
“And I certainly don’t doubt that.” And his eyes slid smoothly over Gaz, from her face to her feet. Gaz felt a rush of blood, as if her capillaries haokenoken and were seeping under her skin. The tingling actually felt kind of good, it made her want to squirm. Her clothes felt like rough ropes and she was suddenly very aware of her panties. She hoped the feeling would pass quickly. She blinked, and when she lifted her lids the man’s eyes were back on her face, where they belonged.
“Anyway,” she said, “I bet I can kill more piggies than you, mister.”
His eyes narrowed as he reached into the pocket of his thin black flannel shirt and, with a flip of the wrist, replaced the cartridge in his GS with Vampire Hunter Piggy. “You are an impetuous child.”
“And you are an impetuous man,” Gaz said in her most grown-up voice.
The man was fingering his collar. Gaz looked at his neck. It was white and soft, like mozzarella. She pinched herself as hard as she could when she started wondering what it smelled like. “I let you win, you know,” he said softly, a little undercurrent smugness in his voice. That pissed Gaz off. If there was anything worse than a better gamer, it was a condescending loser.
“No you didn’t. If anything, I let you get as far as you did.”
He chuckled. “You’re right.” He turned and looked at her. “My name’s Dillion. My friend’s call me Dem, for Deus Ex Machina. What’s your name?”
Gaz started to tuck away her GameSlave. “Gaz.”
“Gaz what?”
“Gaz Membrane.”
“As in Professor Membrane?”
“Yeah.” She ruffles through her backpack, pulling out games randomly. She doesn’t even know why.
“You ever meet the guy?”
She sights heavily. “I believe I’ve met my father.”
“Your father? That’s really funny…you don’t look much like him.” His hands reached out then, and were on her cheeks, turning her face gently.
Gaz felt paralyzed, like the man’s gentle fingers were sharp pens and her face was a blank, pure sheet of paper. The tingly feeling was part joyful anticipation and part sheer terror. His fingertips were under her ears and his thumbs were on the hard bones under her eyes.
“Let’s see…his face is angular, like a rectangle. Yours is fuller, softer…” His hands cupped her cheeks. Gaz felt like she was about to burst. She couldn’t look at this man’s face, this Dillion, this Dem, so she stared at his neck, at the thin collarbones. This was all so. No. No one had ever touched her like this before, and her skin felt very tender, almost painful. It felt good, but she something deep inside her was setting off an alarm. She felt her eyes begin to sting, and it puzzled and frightened her.
“Gaz. Gaz, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The voice waarp,arp, grabbing her. “Look at me. What’s wrong?”
Crying? I was crying? The word was foreign. Dry lips parted and a tight throat strained. “Nothing.”
“Look at me!” Ahe hhe hands suddenly jerked upward, pulling her face along with it. She gasped. She was now looking at his squinting eyes and hard mouth. She didn’t know why his face was like that, and she wondered if her crying had angered him.
His face softened then, his eyes widened. “Gaz, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you, I just…” His hands slowly fell from her face, the fingertips softly tracing streaks on her skin. “Do you forgive me?”
Gaz jumped to her feet. “You didn’t scare me, and I wasn’t crying.” She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. She felt him stand up behind her, and she felt angry. She was angry that this man scared her, that he made her cry. She was going to destroy him, kick him in the shin, punch him in the place between his legs that sent Dib and even Torque Smacky down like their bones had liquefied and curled them like shrimp. She whirled around, fist extended, and, to her surprise, he caught it.
That, and Dem’s height, left Gaz completely deflated. He was taller than her father. Okay, she thought, this wasn’t a good idea. But I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of thinking he scared me. If he’s going to beat me up, so help me, I’m going to go down glaring. < sty And she looked up to give him that one final glare.
But Dem’s face was so sad. Gaz didn’t know much about emotions, but Dem’s face was open enough for even her to see what the regret and loneliness he was feeling. This touched her, and for a moment, she was looking at her father’s face, a wish she was projecting on Dem. And suddenly he was pulling her up into his arms, holding her close to his chest.
Gaz stiffened in fear, wildly willing her legs to kick, a scream to well up in her throat, something, anything. But then she felt herself giving in, and her muscles, one by one, smoothed themselves. His body was warm and firm but yet soft. His smell was sweet and kind of dusty, with a salt odor that reminded her of Dib after he spent a day chasing Zim around. Is this what a hug is like? She thought. It isn’t so bad. And she let her arms and legs and neck dangle against him.
After what seemed like hours, he slowly bent and placed her on the ground. Gaz wavered. Her brain felt like the wrinkles had been ironed out of it.
His fingers lifted her chin. She gave no resistance.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He whispered, his eyes looking into hers.
Gaz finally managed to breathe. “Whatever,” she said. Her voice could have been mistaken for a simple exhalation. As she walked down the steps, she hoped that her gait was steady. When she turned the corner, she found herself breaking into a run. And, as she ran, she felt like she was flying.
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Gaz's Best Friend