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Into the Web	By : Florville Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > Crossover Views: 2436 -:- 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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CHAPTER FOUR

The rain was bordering on torrential, pouring down from a starless sky as Dib sat in the unmarked squad car parked across the road from 777 Elmwood Lane. In the driver’s seat was the young officer who had complimented Dib on his work the day before, a young cop by the name of Officer Strange; the only one on the entire Force that the federal agent believed was in the least bit capable of serving as backup should he need it. Clipping his walkie-talkie to his belt, Dib frowned slightly behind his glasses, tugging the collar of his black trench coat up a little as a peal of thunder exploded overhead.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you, Sir?” The young cop ventured.

The faintest hint of a smile crossed Dib’s face, but it quickly faded. “No, thanks. I get the feeling that if this guy sees more than one person coming toward his door, he might make a quick exit or refuse to speak to me entirely.”

“It’s a pity we don’t have a warrant,” Strange muttered.

“Tell me about it,” Dib sighed, pulling out his M19 and flipping the chamber open, checking that it was loaded.

Strange quirked a brow. “Isn’t that model a little…uh…old-fashioned?”

Dib smirked. “If you can draw and fire in point six of a second or less, it doesn’t really matter what model you use.”

The cadet blinked in surprise. “Seriously?”

Dib’s grin faded. “Let’s just say I didn’t have much of a social life as a teenager, so I had a lot of time to pursue…other interests.” Deciding to end the conversation there, Dib slid his Magnum back into the holster and opened the door, looking back for a moment. “If I’m not back in twenty minutes, call out more backup and come in there to get me, regardless of if I hit the panic button or not.”

“Yes, Sir,” the officer replied, saluting briskly before adding, “be careful.”

Already sopping wet from the rain by the time he reached the doorstep, Dib knocked briskly, his pulse rapid despite the fact that he felt confident in his ability to handle whatever situation arose.

After waiting for about a minute, Dib raised his leather-gloved fist to knock again, pausing when there was a click of the door unlocking. A gaunt-looking man who might’ve been about Dib’s age opened the door, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“I’m busy. What do you want?”

Pulling out his badge, Dib kept his tone professional, despite the fact that he knew he must look like a wet rat by now, water dripping from the frames of his glasses. “Federal Agent Dib Membrane. I was wondering if I might come in and have a word with you.”

A wild grin suddenly curled the man’s lips and he threw the door open, gesturing excitedly. “Of course! Really, come in!”

Shaking as much of the rain from his wet coat as he could before entering, Dib cleared his throat, watching a little uneasily as his unkempt-looking host closed the front door and locked it. “Leave it unlocked, sir, if you don’t mind.”

The man glared at Dib for a moment, slowly turning the latch and unlocking the door. “You can sit down on one of those boxes if you want.”

The room was dark, lit by a single pathetic-looking excuse for a table lamp. Dib took a seat on a dilapidated wooden crate, adjusting his jacket as he looked around. His brow furrowed slightly as he looked over at the far wall; he could swear it had a sort of sheen to it, like the paint was still wet.

Plopping himself down on a stool, the spider-like man gave Dib an odd smile. “I’m Johnny, but my friends call me Nny.”

Looking back at his suspect again, Dib nodded. “So I’ve heard. What you did for that boy next door was very noble, despite the fact that it was first-degree murder.”

Nny’s smile faded and he gazed at Dib a little more intently. “Your point being?”

Dib frowned. “My point being that I’ve come here tonight in hopes of bringing you to justice.”

Johnny burst into a fit of maniacal laughter, holding his sides as he doubled over with it.

The sound grated heavily on Dib’s nerves, and he clenched his fist around the handcuffs in his pocket. “This isn’t a joke.”

Catching his breath, Nny wiped a tear of mirth from one of his emerald eyes, shaking his head. “Justice is blind, deaf, dumb…devoid of any sense attributed to something functional.”

“Not always,” Dib stated flatly, “and definitely not in this case. You have a hell of a lot to answer for.”

Eyes widening slightly, Johnny looked at Dib as if he were insane. “You seriously think you’re going to arrest me? Ha!” Rising to his feet, Nny picked up a wet paintbrush and began to paint a stick figure on a bit of paper stuck to an easel beside him. “You really must enjoy wasting your time. If it weren’t for the fact that I already painted the wall today, I’d probably kill you.”

Dib ground his teeth, rising to his feet and pulling his handcuffs out. “Let’s not make this ugly, all right? You’ve given the cops in this shithole town enough to keep them chasing their tails for a while, but it’s time it came to an end. You have the right to remain silent,” he stepped forward and moved to put one of the cuffs onto Nny’s wrist above the hand holding his paintbrush, “anything you s—”

Dib was cut off abruptly when an open paint can connected with the side of his head, having been concealed under the easel. Dropping to the floor, Dib clutched at his jaw, the room swimming around him as he sat up slowly, the entire contents of the paint can dripping from his hair and seeping into his shirt and jacket.

“Fuck,” Dib hissed, tugging off his glasses and looking around, grinding his teeth when he saw his handcuffs on the floor and realised that he was alone.

The door burst open, and Dib instantly had his Magnum in hand, pointed directly at Officer Strange, who gaped at him in shock, running over and putting a hand on Dib’s shoulder.

“Holy fuck, what happened?? You’re soaked in blood!”

Dib felt a sharp chill seize his body, his eyes widening as he lowered his M19. He must’ve landed on the panic button. “What?” Grimacing and gingerly touching the side of his head, he hissed softly. “Fucker hit me upside the head with a paint can…it was full of whatever got dumped on me.” Looking down at his previously white shirt, Dib’s lip curled in disgust. “Jesus H. Christ, it is blood…”
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