Four Years Later…

Bill kept looking in the rearview mirror at his passenger, eyebrows furrowed in a silent question. This particular boy looked so familiar. The golden eyes and long eyelashes. Pale skin and not so subtle scars. Tall, gawky and too thin body.

Quite suddenly, a big flash of memory hit him like a car crash. That night so long ago it felt. The night where his life as a boring old cabbie had been irrevocably altered to revolve around a distraught teenager and his friend.

Hazel eyes widened in recognition, mouth falling open as he glanced at the tuxedo and spiked hair. All that was missing was pink blood and glass shards.

"3655 South , Las Vegas Boulevard, Mon Ami Gabi, Please." The dark male asked, obvious oblivious to the huge excitement and perhaps dread from the older man in the driver's seat.

"Um…right away." Bill replied, kicking into gear and taking off to one of the most romantic restaurant in Vegas. For a little while it was quiet, too quiet and a quick check revealed that Dib was looking out the window at all the wonderful lights, the reflections in his glasses. Not broken this time.

"So…uh, planning on fighting any aliens anytime soon?" Bill asked, nonchalantly. Dib's head shot up. For a single second there was fear and almost rage before it cleared when he look in the review mirror at the driver. It changed instantly into a huge grin that ate up the kid's entire face.

"Bill! Oh wow! Seeing you here. Again. After all this time. What's the odds?" Immediately, Dib was practically bouncing with over excited energy. Bill chuckled softly, the yellowing teeth still there but not as bad. He'd quit smoking almost a year ago and was doing great.

"Very small. How are ya, kid?"

"Great. Holy crap, I'm great." Dib shook his head in awe, piercing still shimmered in the dim cab lighting. "What about you?"

Bill stopped when the light turned red, like any good driver. "Good. Good. Still a taxi driver obviously." A hand motioned to the steering wheel and Vegas in general. "Stopped smoking." Another grin. "But I'm more interested in you." Green. He stepped lightly on the gas. "Still with Zim? That was his name right?" Bill questioned, suddenly afraid it hadn't been.

Dib nodded with a small smile. "Always." A hand went through the little privacy window to show Bill the ring still on his finger. "Almost five years now. Of course he's still an asshole. That never stops. Would be scary if it did." The hand retracted after the driver had admired it properly. "The world would probably actually end if he actually attempted to be nice."

Bill laughed a little louder. Even if he'd only met Zim for a fifteen minutes, it had been enough to convince him that the kid was right about that. "That's wonderful. Going to meet him now?"

"Yep. Of course he picked the most expensive restaurant in the entire city." The man shook his head in a kind of 'can't live with him, can't live without him' kind of way.
"And what about the SOS, thingy? How'd that get sorted out?"

Dib raised a black eye brow at how much Bill remembered. "Okay I guess. They still think he's dead. Zim doesn't seem to care. Although on occasions he gets kind of pissed about it." A shrug.

"But he gets pissed when I leave the toilet seat up so who knows."

Bill coughed but smiled, turning into the parking lot where the restaurant was waiting with fancy décor and lots of flowers. "Well, this is your stop…It was great seeing you again."

Dib nodded, smirking. "Here," The hand again this time with a business card in between long, spindly fingers. "Take it. Call us sometime."

Bill took it and looked at the dark blue eyeball on the front along with Dib's name and some code name or something. 'Agent Moth Man-Leader of the Swollen Eyeballs'. Bill was impressed even if he had no idea what it was. It looked important.

"Sure thing. Tell Zim I said hi."

"Will do." Said Dib, climbing out, lightly squeaking along the seats.

"Oh and hey," Bill called out of the window at the kid. "Don't let him treat ya too bad yanno. Be happy."

Dib turned around at the door and smiled softly, hands in his pockets. "I'll be fine. I love that lunatic even if he's a real pain sometimes. Besides…it's my own fault."

The teenager turned man turned to wall inside the posh building with a final call over his shoulder, "He's what I get for waking up in Vegas."

A.N.: TA DA! All done! Finally. After almost a year.

Twas a good ending? Satisfying?

NOW...to work on the other ten thousand (not exaggerating) ideas/stories I have. -.-

I don't own IZ.