Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Hey. Before we start. I need to ask you something."

Roxanne is tied to a chair, as usual, but her chair is perched on top of the Metro City Downtown Public Library, so at least there’s a view today. Technically an even better view than she would ordinarily be afforded—her chair is in fact bolted to the top of the barrel of…some kind of gun, she isn’t sure yet what it does. It is quite a large barrel, though.

Behind and below her, on the rooftop, Megamind makes a scoffing sound. "You, asking questions? Won’t that be a change."

"Less ‘question,’ more ‘favor,’ this time."

Megamind hums. "No time for negotiations. And! I don’t do favors! You know this."

It’s a good thing she’s so much higher than he is and he can’t see her face, because it’s hard not to grin at the way his first instinct was ‘no time’ and then he remembered to decline entirely. "Yeah, yeah. But you do owe me, I’ve been playing along for you for how many years now? That’s—"

"Oh, playing along?" He scoffs again. "Is that what you’ve been doing, playing along? Really?"

She puts an edge in her otherwise still pleasant tone. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," he says immediately, and Roxanne stifles a snort. "No, that’s—but look, you don’t ask me for things," he says, "I don’t do things for you, I—"

"I need you to come to a wedding with me."

He stops talking.

Grinning, the wind in her hair, Roxanne waits. Megamind is speechless for multiple seconds, actually, which almost never happens. She's learned to enjoy these moments.

Finally he says, "Excuse me? You need me to…wait, what?"

"A wedding," Roxanne says again. "I need a plus one."

"And Metro Man would be…?"

"Like dropping a live grenade into this particular crowd. Also, it's out of town; he won't want to travel." She sighs and finally leans forward in her chair and attempts to look down and back at him, without much success. She can see his legs, though; she suspects he's staring up at her. "Look, one of my exes from college asked me to attend, okay? And I mean, we're friends, we're on great terms; I’d honestly love to go, but…I’m a professional pawn. I am a well-known professional pawn. And there are going to be a lot of villains in attendance, many of whom are…known to be uncautious with their props? I would really feel a lot safer with you there. Or Minion. I’m not picky. No offense, Minion," she raises her voice a little. "I just think he'd probably be better-recognized."

"Oh, no worries," his cheerful voice calls from somewhere near the back of the roof. "I'm flattered to be an option! And you're right, he definitely would be."

Megamind is quiet for a moment.

"All right, we can discuss. Later," he adds, voice flat. Roxanne nods; she’s just relieved that he’s even entertaining the idea. "Who are these people? Why are you going to a—a wedding full of villains?"

"Malcolm Fitzcarraldo and Sheila Gether. Or—"

"You dated the Monarch?" Minion blurts from behind them, and Roxanne bursts out laughing.

"Malcolm? God, no," she says, "I dated Sheila. She wasn’t into villainy back then, neither of us were, of course, but…eh." She shrugs. "We’ve all changed. Anyway," she continues, "yes, we can discuss later. And thank you."

"Don’t thank me," Megamind warns, "I have agreed to nothing yet."

"Okay, well, let’s discuss soon? I need to rsvp."

"Whatever."

It’s amazing how much less stressed she feels with Megamind potentially on board. Roxanne is rescued from the illiteracy beam—of all things—for which she had mocked Megamind as hard as she could while the cameras were rolling (he had been particularly annoyed about "Do you get these from some kind of plot generator algorithm? You can’t possibly be coming up with this sort of thing on your own, you’re better than this"), and then her heroic friend drops her off on her balcony to finish her workday at home.

The 'working from home' is necessary because Megamind’s primary escape contingency today was to create a flash rainstorm and escape through the sheets of driving water. It worked a treat; Metro Man had to clear a couple of small but dangerous flood zones and by the time Roxanne was freed, she both looked and felt like a drowned rat. So. Megamind got his revenge for her mockery, which is fine, that’s to be expected. She’ll just remind him next time: they’re already even. He’ll whine about it, he always does, but. The point is, she asked about the wedding, and Megamind did not dismiss her out of hand. That’s a positive sign.

Even more positive is the fact that when she finishes changing into nice dry pajamas and leaves her bedroom and comes back downstairs, still towel-drying her hair, she finds Megamind—sopping wet and scowling, still in almost his full costume—sprawled out on her sofa and clutching a bag of peas to his enormous forehead.

"Oh for goodness sake," Roxanne sighs, scrunching the ends of her hair in the damp towel. "You couldn’t at least dry off first?"

He flips her the bird without even looking over.

"Yeah, yeah." She rolls her eyes. "C’mon, up. Let’s at least get your mantle and stuff off, that cape is dripping all over the place."

"Need the collar under my neck."

"You can use one of my throw pillows. Up."

"Ugh, fine," he scoffs, but he sits up and unclasps his shoulder array and shrugs the whole thing off onto her coffee table. Roxanne hands him her towel—it’s still mostly dry, it isn't that damp—and tosses one of her pillows more or less into the space where his shoulders had been. Megamind pulls the towel around his shoulders, heaves an enormous and very dramatic sigh, and flops right back down with a groan to start picking at the buckles of his gloves with the peas flopped over his head. 

Roxanne snorts and curls up at the other end of her sofa, grinning a little at Megamind’s bony feet on the cushion by her leg—his left sock has a hole in the toe; it’s weirdly endearing. "Thanks for taking off your boots this time."

"Mm. Yes, well. I already have a headache, I don’t need shouting to make it worse." He drops his wet gloves on the floor and repositions the peas with a sigh. 

"Let me see?"

He lifts the bag and she peers over at him, then hisses in sympathy. "Oof, ouch. Yeah, that’s quite a goose egg you’ve got there."

"It’s going to bruise," he complains, crunching the peas back down and gesturing broadly in defeat with his other hand. "It’s going to bruise and I’m going to have to be seen while bruised and I hate that."

"Oh, stop, you’ll put makeup over it if it gets too purple."

"…It’s going to bruise and I’ll have to put makeup on—"

"Weh weh weh, you never complain half as much when you’re actually hurt."

He blows a raspberry at her, but doesn’t deny it.

Roxanne cocks her head. "Why haven’t you made some kind of…I don’t know, fast-healing lotion or something? I’m sure you could figure out…some kind of medical something that would—" She stops; he's just bared his teeth and hissed at her.

"I do not do medical crap," he says flatly. "And I heal quickly enough as it is, I do not in fact need the help. When is this wedding? If it’s this weekend, the deal is off, I have plans."

"Oh? Should I clear my schedule as well?"

He makes a grumbly noise in his throat and pulls his sharp knees up, throws one leg over the other. "Different plans. You aren’t involved."

He isn’t lying. There’s a particular tone to his voice when he lies that he probably isn’t aware of.

Roxanne squints at him for a moment.

Then she says, "You’re taking advantage of the update to Metro’s 911 emergency alert system on Thursday night, aren’t you. You’re going to install something."

Megamind lifts his head and tips his knees against the back of her sofa so he can glare past his legs at her. "How do you do that?"

"Is anyone going to die?"

He wrinkles his face. "Please. This is me."

She sighs, nods. "Okay, yeah. Fair. Sorry."

"I should hope so." He drops back again.

After a moment, he asks, "So. Wedding is when?"

"Six weeks from now. October 5th."

"October…in what, Nevada?"

She hums assent.

Megamind makes a sound of disgust. "Is it outdoors? Indoors? Is there air conditioning?" He pauses. "I’m not going to have to go into that horrible cocoon, am I?"

Roxanne can’t help but snort. "Not sure. I think Malcolm would rather die than invite rival villains into the cocoon, but he might surprise me. I don’t believe it’s outside, but the reception space might have an outdoor area for guest overflow."

He’s quiet for a while, scrunching his toes absently against the material of Roxanne’s sofa cushions.

At last he decides, "All right. I can handle outdoor space. And I suppose I can figure out some sort of…cooling system to wear, just in case. How much will I be expected to socialize?"

That wasn’t a question she was expecting. "Um—I don’t—know? Weddings are social events, but…I’m not sure. Probably…more than you want to, but less than you’re worried about?"

"What a diplomatic turn of phrase."

"Okay, then we’ll go with ‘more than you want to’ and leave off the bit that was meant to be reassuring."

"Ah."

He’s quiet for a moment.

"Right," he says.

It's as close to an apology as she's ever likely to get; Roxanne rolls her eyes. "It’s fine. I know this is very much not your thing. So, you’re okay to come, then? If you really, truly don’t want to come and you think you’ll be miserable the whole time, I do have someone else I can ask."

"Oh, really." He sounds very dry. "And you have not asked this person because…?"

"…I don’t…entirely trust him not to try to involve me in some kind of…scheme?" She grimaces. "It isn’t usually his style to involve a hostage, but he made it into some kind of local syndicate recently, and…I just worry that he might have something to prove. Plus we used to date, so…"

Megamind pauses, then lifts himself onto an elbow and squints at her. "You used to date another villain?"

"He wasn’t a villain when we were together!" she protests, coloring. "He was just…Billy! He liked physics and engineering and he was…weirdly enthusiastic about soup, I don’t know. He was sweet."

Now Megamind sits up fully and leans his elbow on the back of her sofa, grinning with all his teeth. "Physics and engineering," he says. "Doctor Girlfriend is also a genius with a degree in engineering. Do you have a type, Miss Ritchi?"

"No!" She laughs. "Like I said, neither of them were villains at the time. Neither of them were anywhere near villainy at the time! We just…all started out in the same major, that’s all. Do you want something to eat? I’m getting something to eat." She stands, stretches. Then she snaps her fingers. "Oh and I need to text Carl, hang on. Food?"

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and heads for the kitchen. Behind her, Megamind says, "I could eat. Food. Yes. Thank you?"

Not working til later, sthg came up. Will have THE STORY for friday AM tho. "Mm-hm," she says. "Yeah, no problem. I have…let’s see…"

"You could make peas," Megamind says, from her sofa. "I have partially defrosted them for you, how helpful of me, you’re welcome."

She leans back and glares at him from behind the door of her fridge. "I’m sorry, are those my peas?!"

"Oh, yes, because I'm DEFINITELY going to stop and steal my OWN PEAS on my way here."

Roxanne gapes at him.

He holds up a hand and sarcastically blocks out a header in the air with his fingers. "Supervillain Robs Grocery, Steals Peas. Now there's a sad headline for you. Yes, they're your peas, temporarily my peas. 'Peas' and thank you. Seriously, did you expect me to bring my own?"

She blinks, then snorts. "I…did not think about the peas’ potential provenance. Okay. Well, I’m not feeling like peas tonight, but…egg sandwiches? Scrambled egg and cheese sandwiches?"

"Ooo!" He perks up. "I would eat an egg sandwich. I would eat two egg sandwiches."

Roxanne laughs. "Sure, I can make an additional one. I’m taking a bite out of it, though."

"An odd stipoolation, but your terms are acceptable."

Roxanne’s phone buzzes and she glances down at the text she’s received.

Villain on your sofa again? He took quite a hit earlier.

He is bruised and VERY unhappy about it, yes, she replies.

LOL, says her boss.

She’s very fortunate that Carl is as relaxed as he is about her work schedule. Her prior boss at KMCP was not nearly as forgiving of Megamind’s frequent interruptions, despite Roxanne pointing out—repeatedly—that she was still getting her work done ahead of all of her deadlines. Roxanne had worried that his replacement might be the same type of stick-in-the-mud, "do your work and don’t bother me" pain in the butt, but Carl had told his new team that he would support them in whatever way he could, and as far as Roxanne has been able to tell, he meant it.

"The last thing I made with peas was called shrimp wiggle," she says over her shoulder as she gets the skillet out. "It was exceptionally weird, you should come look at this picture I took."

"Shrimp wiggle?" There’s a rustle and a groan, and then Megamind trots silently into her kitchen to blink down at the picture Roxanne pulls up on her phone for him.

He takes her phone briefly in his fingers, blinks at it again, and then recoils. "Ugh," he says, handsome face contorting with disgust, "it looks like cat sick."

Roxanne bubbles into laughter. That’s Megamind for you. Oh, he can be subtle and sly when he wants to be, but Roxanne is pretty sure his natural state is shovel-to-the-face blunt. "You’re not wrong," she admits, grinning down at the lackluster photograph, "god, it—it really does, doesn’t it? Yeah, it didn’t taste bad, but the texture did leave a lot to be desired."

"Why was it on toast?"

"Serving suggestion." She shakes her head and slides her phone back into her pocket. "I assume it was intended to offer some crunch, but honestly, I would have gone for cucumber or onion or something. The toast just got kinda soggy, it wasn’t great."

He hums. "At least put the vegetable in between. Protect the toast."

"That would have also worked." She scoots the skillet around to melt the butter, then starts cracking eggs into the pan to scramble. "Cheese on yours?"

"Hm? Oh, the sandwiches. No cheese for me."

He turns and leans against her cupboards a few feet away, shoulders rounded, pushing the slowly-dripping bag of thawing peas against his forehead again. He still has Roxanne’s towel around his shoulders.

She smiles down at the pan a little. It’s funny. Megamind doesn’t do this very often, turn up in her home like this, but it’s always bound to be a good night when he does come over. For someone as intense as he can be at times, he’s surprisingly relaxing to be around. He doesn’t seem to expect much from Roxanne; she can entertain or mostly ignore him and he acts fine either way. One of the last times he showed up, she was in the middle of a project for work and she had told him—snapped at him, really—to sit down and shut up for the next two hours, and he had said, "Suits me fine," plopped himself down on her couch, and proceeded to say nothing for two hours exactly. He spent the time working on some kind of tablet via a sort of triple-planed keyboard Roxanne had never seen before, and when the two hours were up, he simply said, "How’s your work coming?"

"Fine. Hungry. Shut up again, please."

"I’ll have the brainbots pick up Chinese?"

"Mm. ‘Kay."

And he had proceeded to shut up for the remainder of the evening, until Roxanne finally slapped her laptop closed, stabbed her chopsticks down into the remains of her chicken mei fun, and flopped back in her chair with a loud groan.

"That bad?"

"Hate everything," she grumbled, grinding the heels of her hands into her eyes. "Fucking…Hal, fucking…urrrhg. MarioKart? And then in an hour I’m going to bed and you have to leave."

"I will play MarioKart for an hour and then leave."

"Awesome, fabulous, thank god."

Now she says, as Megamind turns to pull the third pair of toast slices out of the toaster, "Why do you come over here?"

"You said, ‘soon,’" he says, not looking at her. "Did you not want to settle our plans today?"

"No, I did, just…" She shakes her head. "Not asking about today, really. In general."

Bluer than ever and wildly out of place against the red and gold of her kitchen, awkwardly spreading mayonnaise on the toast slices, Megamind is quiet. The slow scraping of his knife seems very loud, suddenly.

"Sorry," Roxanne finally says. "I’m only curious. You don’t have to answer."

"I never do."

"It’s just," she says, "we are going on a trip together now. So." She takes a deep breath, sighs it out. "I’m not going to laugh, or anything. Oh, thanks."

He’s just slid the plate of toast over to her. He watches her put cheese on her own slices, then arrange clumps of yellowy egg on top of the cheese to start it melting a little.

She’s just finished grinding salt and pepper onto his eggs when he says, "Sometimes…I need to be out of the lair. It feels. Cramped. I don’t know."

Surprised, Roxanne glances sidelong at him as she puts the salt and pepper away. The corners of his mouth are turned down and his arms are crossed over his chest. "I always thought Evil Lair must be pretty big," she says. "Are the rooms very small?"

He shakes his huge head but doesn’t explain, he just says, "Can I have triangles?" and gestures at the sandwiches with the knife he had been using to spread the mayo.

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, sure." She hadn’t been going to cut the sandwiches at all, but it’s not a lot of effort to cut his diagonally. Megamind likes triangle sandwiches, who knew? She takes the knife, cuts his sandwiches. Cuts her own horizontally, because why not? It’s been ages since she’s bothered, but she remembers liking cut sandwiches when she was a kid.

Megamind accepts his plate and heads back towards the sofa in silence (her dining table is almost exclusively for show; he knows this). But as Roxanne takes her place at the other end, he pauses and then holds out his plate.

"You forgot your bite."

"Oh," she says again, half-laughing, "that’s okay. I was mostly joking—"

"But your bite," he insists, jiggling the plate, "we had a deal," and so Roxanne picks up one of the halves and chomps off a corner of a triangle before putting it back.

"There, happy?"

"YeshVeryMushThangkYou," he replies, around a mouthful of egg and toast, and Roxanne snorts.

As he finishes his first sandwich, he slowly says, "Evil Lair has lots of space. It is 'pretty big,' you…aren't mistaken. But." He shrugs, pokes at a stray piece of egg that fell out of his sandwich onto his plate. "I can feel the walls, sometimes. Being here…breathes easier."

He starts in on his second sandwich without looking at her.

"…Well," Roxanne says, after a moment, "you’re a pretty unobtrusive houseguest, so…I guess…you’re welcome pretty much whenever."

"Unobtrusive," he echoes, green eyes snapping up to look at her. "I imagined I was wildly obnoxious."

"What, just by sitting here? Pfff. Sure, super obnoxious." She rolls her eyes. "Nah. I was worried at first that you might be, but…nah. You leave when I tell you to, you’re quiet when I need you to be. You’re fine. And," she adds, sending him a grin, "you are seriously terrible at MarioKart."

"Hey!"

"Well it’s true! Good lord, you’re awful. Do you not have any games at home? Never had anything as a kid?"

"I did not grow up with games," he grouses, "it was a prison and no, I do not in fact have a console at home."

"Aw," says Roxanne, genuinely startled. "That’s sad. Well, at least now I know what I’m getting you for Christmas."

"I do not celebrate Christmas."

"Yeah, but I do, and you’re getting a refurbished DS and some Pokémon to start you off with, you’re welcome."

His eyes narrow. "What the fuck is a Pokémon."

"Oh my god. Please tell me you’re joking."

He glares at her.

"Okay, wow, now you’re getting even more Pokémon, AND MarioKart for DS, you’re double-welcome."

He glares for a moment longer, then scoffs loudly and rolls his eyes. "Fine. But it's your own grave you're digging," he warns, and takes another bite of sandwich. Speaks through his mouthful of egg and bread as he warns, "If I start beating you at MarioKart because I'm suddenly able to practice, it'll be your fault."

"I look forward to the day you beat anyone at anything," she says dryly.

Megamind sticks his tongue out at her and continues eating.

A week later, Roxanne gets a text from an unknown number.

What is the dress code

She blinks down at it for a moment, distracted from her expense report and thinking, dress code? What dress code? It's too specific to be spam or phishing, but she's honestly drawing a total blank.

Sorry, who is this? she asks.

A moment later her phone buzzes again and she looks down to find—

Ah. An emoji of an alien. Megamind, right, the wedding, right. She huffs a laugh and shakes her head.

Semi-formal, she tells him. A nice suit and a tie is a safe bet, no tuxedo necessary.

Thumbs-up emoji.

An hour later, Minion says what colors are you wearing

Roxanne’s lips twitch. I haven't picked out a dress yet, she replies. Go with whatever you'll be most comfortable in & i'll match to you.

A while after that, Megamind asks, Plans after work?

That gives her pause. Megamind does not typically ask if Roxanne has plans, he just nabs her from wherever she happens to be and expects her to make her peace with that.

I’ll have to check, she replies. It’s her go-to phrase when someone asks what her plans are and she isn’t sure what they want her for. Dare I ask why?

Minion is coming over tonight with "a few supplies"

Roxanne snorts. I'll clear off my big table for him?

That would be wise.

She bites her lip and types out, are you also coming over? …and then stops, and stares down at the message. Does she want Megamind over tonight?

…Yes, actually, she decides. That could be fun.

She sends the text.

A while later, he replies, Yes. We can make shrimp wiggle :P

Make YOU wiggle, shrimpy, she answers.

I wish

She's blinking at that, uncertain how to take it, when another text arrives.

Being a shrimp would be to my advantage in a fight

Fascinated, grinning at her desk, she says, Oh?

Yes because every time I clench my ass I would rocket thirty feet straight backwards

Roxanne dissolves into startled giggles and puts her elbows on her desk to continue texting, fully distracted for the time being.

RR: You do that anyway, I’ve seen your escape hatches
MM: Hey!!! My hatches are HIGHLY SOPHISTICATED pieces of technology!!!
RR: Really don’t know if I’d apply "sophisticated" to something that goes THOOMBP and fires you out the ass end of a homemade gundam like a little blue cork
MM: >:(
RR: I might call it "sofartsticated"
MM: >:O
RR: because it’s basically a fart joke already
MM: You are a cruel and heartless lady and I don’t like you.
RR: yeah I’m really not sure why you thought texting me would be easier than just showing up unannounced?
MM: You know, honestly, neither am I.
RR: and yet you aren’t stopping.
MM: I am a masochist, this is known
RR: Awww really? we should tango at the wedding and I’ll see if I can catch your nose in my left castanet :P
MM: LOL. I shall envy the rose that you hold in your teeth
RR: …With the thorns underneath? xD
MM: Sticking into your gums ;)
RR: lol ew
MM: You started it
RR: And unfortunately I have to finish it too, work calls. See you tonight
MM: Boooooo. Yes, see you :)

Chapter Text

Roxanne heads home about half an hour early to try and beat Minion to the punch, and hey, success! So she piles up her mostly decorative placemats and puts them in the laundry—they’re a bit dusty—and wipes down the table.

And then she stands for a moment, chewing on her lip. Minion hasn't been over to visit, that she knows of. Not the way Megamind sometimes visits for a while. And Roxanne doesn't sew; she hasn't really interacted with Minion in depth about his hobby. She isn't fully sure what…might be important…

Eh, better safe than sorry. She heads back into her kitchen for the scrubbie and soap, and then fully scrubs down the whole tabletop for the first time in probably two years. She isn’t sure what ‘few supplies’ Minion is bringing over, but she’s willing to bet some of it is fabric, and she’s willing to bet it’s nice. Even if he doesn’t need a clean workspace with no possibility of hidden grease stains, Roxanne wants to be able to offer him one when he gets here. She really doesn't use the table often enough for it to be a major risk, but hey, a little extra soap and water can't hurt.

And it's meditative. Kind of nice, to actually move things around and clean and see how the evening sunlight streaming through her huge windows glances off the water droplets and the soap. Nice, to see how the wood is brighter when she finishes drying it. She briefly considers pulling out her vacuum cleaner and doing some quick vacuuming, but decides against it; she just got the table clean and doesn't want to kick up dust. This should be good enough for now.

When Minion arrives just after sunset with Megamind in tow, Roxanne is waiting on her red sofa with her curtains still open, listening for them. She's on her feet and hurrying to open the balcony door before the hoverbike is fully in park, and her eyebrows are up but she's not going to say anything about the way Minion sweeps cheerfully in with his furry arms full of a whole stack of plastic tubs and Megamind scampering behind him, reaching to catch the little box that falls from where it was balanced and jumping to grab the big pad of newsprint before it can topple.

"Can I put these somewhere?" Minion asks, hefting the tubs. "I don't know how far we'll get tonight but I brought enough to hopefully not hit any roadblocks."

"Yeah, right over by the table, I cleared it off for you," she says. "The floor isn't super clean, but the table itself should be okay. Um—"

She starts to follow him over, but Megamind's long fingers close on her arm and she jumps and twists away to stare at him.

"He's very excited," Megamind says in an undertone, before she can tell him not to grab her again. "He likes weddings, just roll with it."

"Excuse me?"

"Just let him work, don't shoot him down, please," he says, and then he whips around and whisks himself over to the table to start pulling cords and a big sewing machine and a bolt of ugly yellowish fabric out of one of the bins.

Don't shoot Minion down…?

Okay. Well. That was odd, but sure, Roxanne is game to 'roll with it.' She'll tell Megamind off later for thinking she might be mean to Minion, or at least demand to know what on earth he was worried about. Roxanne has never shot Minion down about anything, as far as she knows. For now, she just follows Minion over to her table and pointedly ignores Megamind's hissed "Be nice!" as he darts past and throws himself onto the relative safety of the sofa.

"So," she says, "what did you have in mind? I thought I'd just find something online or wear one of my usual dresses, but this seems…" She glances down at the bin labeled STRUCTURAL and says, "More extensive?"

Minion nods and pulls a little stool from somewhere, gestures Roxanne to hop up. He's holding a strip of pink measuring tape.

"Extensive is probably an appropriate term," he says. "But I don't think any of this will be too complicated. Arms out, please. It's been a while since I've had the opportunity for dramatically new patterns! Let's talk colors—did you have anything in mind?"

"Not really," Roxanne says slowly, thinking, dramatically new? "I'm open to anything. But, um, how dramatic…were you thinking? I was probably going to shoot for understated, I don't really want to draw attention to myself."

"We can do understated," he agrees. "Head up for me, back straight. Yes, of course. It's new to me, I mean, because…he's, well," he pauses in his work with the measuring tape to hold his hands up and mime something up-down and narrow, "and you're," somewhat more snowman-shaped, aha, yes, that makes sense.

"I am not a stick, no," she agrees, lips twitching. "That's fair. Well…in that case, sure, the world is your oyster. Did you have anything in mind?"

Minion’s toothy grin goes toothier. "I have many things in mind," he says, "but for this I've been trying to keep an open mind until we could talk. Okay. If we're going for understated then I think the wisest choice color-wise will be to simply stick with our blue and black, unless you have any objections?"

Roxanne shakes her head. "No, I think your blue is really pretty."

"Awww, thanks, I think you’re pretty too," Megamind drawls from her sofa.

"Quiet, you, I was referring to your ultramarine."

"Guess what color I turn if I spend too long in the sun?"

"Cobalt blue and ashy, I’ve seen you sunburned."

"Aw."

"Going to get handsy for a moment…okay, and turn for me. The main challenge," Minion continues, gently but firmly moving Roxanne this way and that, "is going to be keeping you safe without overheating you. The dress itself will hold under fire, I can take care of that, but for the rest of you…the most straightforward option would be to include an undersuit and boots that cover your knees. I can include panels for breathability, but there’s only so breathable we can get with leather, and an undersuit…well maybe I can keep your shoulders clear…"

"Wait," Roxanne says, "this is a wedding. Keeping me safe? Boots? Fire?"

"This is a wedding between two supervillains," Minion says dryly, as she blinks down at him where he's crouching on the floor. "With probably at least twenty or so other villains in attendance in addition to ordinary guests, if they aren't all villains to begin with. I don’t care what their firearms check policy is, people will smuggle in weapons and there will be problems."

"Can confirm, I will smuggle in a weapon," Megamind calls over.

"You will not," Roxanne calls back.

"He probably should," Minion says. He's busily scribbling notes on a nearby pad of paper in big, uneven handwriting with an oversized novelty pencil. "If Phantom Limb is invited, he’ll cause drama. If he isn’t invited, he’ll cause even more drama. Sir being armed means I don’t have to worry quite as much about you—although, now that we're talking about it, I am going to integrate shielding spikes. Studs, at the very least."

"Good plan," says Megamind.

Roxanne frowns. "Like on the invisible car?"

"And my gloves, and my mantle," Megamind says, sitting up and slinging his arm over the back of the sofa to talk to her. "Just about all of our spikes are functional in some way or other; they aren’t for show. Minion, what about the A-12 nanites? I could scan her in as a base."

"Your dark bots? You won’t have a charger."

"I can make one small enough to bring with us," Megamind says, finally rising and stretching and coming back around the sofa. "Help them maintain a charge." He picks up the enormous pad of paper Minion set down earlier on Roxanne’s table, and braces the bottom of it on the top of his thigh just below his hip and grabs a marker.

"Hmmm," Minion says, brow furrowing. "Maybe under a crinoline."

He studies Roxanne for a long moment, tilting from side to side in his dome, tapping a knuckle on his glass as he thinks. Behind him, Megamind puts his marker between his teeth like a cigar, cap-first. Roxanne squints at him, but he just leers at her around it and wiggles his eyebrows.

Finally Minion says, "Yes," and Megamind tosses his head and whips the marker out of its cap with a flourish as Minion slowly continues, "Yes, I’m thinking…the blue sealskin satin without the lightning bolts. A-line skirt, lace-up back, off the shoulder. Cut it as straight across the chest as possible, do a foldover neckline around to the back to take the place of sleeves."

"—Lhike thish," Megamind says a second later, turning his pad around with the marker cap still poking out the side of his mouth.

Roxanne blinks. She had been trying to visualize what Minion was describing, but Megamind just—took his pen and paper and—okay, wow, there it is. Front and back. She wouldn't have expected him to be so on point with the sketch.

"Yes, thank you Sir," Minion says. "Waist detail in black—maybe also the foldover?—puff crinoline in black tulle—oh, that might be too warm—"

"Please no tulle, it itches so bad," Roxanne blurts. Minion looks down at her and she grimaces hard, waving at him. "Sorry, I’m sorry, just—anything else. Literally anything else, I hate tulle so much. Please. I will beg."

"No need, no need. Could you do organza? With a slip?"

She bites her lip. "I don’t know if I’ve tried organza. Maybe with a slip and bicycle shorts? Oh, or—or maybe the undersuit you mentioned, if that's still doable. I don't know, though, temperature-wise."

"Mm. Well, we'll discuss. A cage crinoline is also an option if we don't use the A-12s. And boots," he says, firm. "Are platforms okay or are you married to high heels?"

"Maybe…platforms with a small heel? Three-inch heel?"

"Oh, yes, I do those for Sir all the time," he says. "Will you need help with jewelry?"

She shakes her head. "I have a set I usually wear at weddings. Silver, understated. Earrings and necklace and that’s all. It’s a pendant necklace but I can shorten the chain."

"I'll need to see them." He makes a note, then looks up at her again with a very frank air. "Now. Are you opposed to leather details beyond the boots," he says. "A collar, cuffs? As anchors for the spikes, you understand, fully practical."

Roxanne bites her lip and considers this for a moment.

"I could do cuffs," she finally says, slowly. "I’m not sure about a collar."

"No, no collar," says Megmaind from behind Minion. "Definitely not, the implications there would be far too overt. I’ll figure something out." He gestures vaguely at the air and shrugs a shoulder. "I’m sure I can reduce the necessary surface area. A pair of bracelets, a set of rings. Something like that."

"Some kind of hairband?" Roxanne ventures. "Maybe?"

"Hmm." He looks interested. "Maybe. Yes, maybe."

Minion clicks his fingers with a clank that makes Roxanne flinch. "Sir. The waistband."

"Oh!" Megamind nods. "Yes! And then something for her hair to close the graviton loop into the repulsor field."

"And bring it all together visually," Minion agrees, also nodding. "Perfect. No additional jewelry necessary."

Roxanne swallows. "Um," she says. "Question. When you say, the blue with no lightning bolts…is the blue with the lightning bolts the stuff that lines his everyday capes? Because I love that. I don't know if the material would work, but. It's really pretty."

Minion’s brow ridge goes up. "Are you sure? It would be, ah…"

"Honestly? A fantastically strategic idea," Megamind says. "From a bodyguard standpoint it would probably be the clearest signal we could send that she’s off-limits."

Roxanne blinks, recoils a little. "Bodyguard?"

It’s Megamind’s turn to raise his eyebrows. "Is that not effectively my role, here?"

"I mean…it is, just…" She trails off.

After a moment, Megamind shrugs and looks up at Minion. "Maybe do a digital mockup of either one, so she can get a visual," he says.

"I don’t know, she sounded pretty positive about the lightning bolts," Minion replies. "Miss Ritchi?"

"I want the lightning bolts," she says. "Definitely want the lightning bolts. It’s not like they’re incredibly ostentatious, I’m not going to be stealing the show."

Minion nods. "Lightning bolts it is, then, although I may run a couple other possibilities by you before we commit. Okay, let's talk range of motion, because the sleeves are going to be interesting with this neckline…"

All in all, it’s a relatively painless evening. Minion gets enough done to start blocking shapes onto paper by the time Roxanne has to go to bed, and she says he’s welcome to stay as late as he likes and come over whenever to work. Which sends Megamind into a huff, of course, because she never said HE could do ANY of that, she always kicks him OUT when she goes to bed, doesn’t she TRUST him, why can’t HE stay, MINION gets to stay—

"Fine, fine, oh my god, stay!" she exclaims, laughing. "Pass out on my sofa! Be here making me coffee some morning, I don’t care. It’s not like the balcony door is locked. Just stay out of my bedroom."

"Deal," he replies, sounding immensely satisfied, and Minion rolls his eyes and sighs.

When Roxanne comes downstairs the following morning, everything has been packed neatly away in the stacking tubs by her dining table. She takes a tablecloth down from her linen closet and throws it over the table so it doesn’t get dusty or dirty, sends a quick text to Megamind to tell Minion he can take the tablecloth off whenever he’s ready, and heads off to work.

Minion isn’t over that evening when she comes home, but that’s okay, that gives Roxanne the chance to find her friend’s website and RSVP. She's been thinking about this all day. 

Roxanne Ritchi, one guest, Megamind.

She blinks at it for a moment longer before clicking send. Is she crazy? For doing this? For wanting to do this?

No. No, it just makes sense. She wants to see Sheila, and she wants to go to Sheila’s wedding, and she doesn’t want to die there or come back with any exciting new traumas. Bringing Megamind along to keep her safe just makes sense; he may not be any good at winning against Metro Man but he knows what he’s doing and he will absolutely keep her safe. He complains constantly about her snarking at him, but when the rubber meets the road, he’s there. The man has no fear.

She sends the RSVP.

And then she starts looking into places to stay. The wedding is at a hotel—resort?—about a half hour outside Las Vegas, and…huh.

Huh. Less than an hour off the strip, but it appears to be in the middle of nowhere.

A prickle goes down Roxanne’s spine, looking at the pictures of the venue. It’s beautiful, but it looks fairly isolated, and it reminds Roxanne of nothing so much as the Overlook Hotel from The Shining.

"Hmm," she says, blinking at it.

The wedding website says there is a block of rooms reserved for wedding guests, and Roxanne is pretty sure the ‘block’ is at least half the hotel. Sheila does not do anything by halves; if she’s serious about her fiancee, she’s going all out. The website also mentions the proximity to Vegas, and it mentions a campground up the road in case any of their more ‘outdoorsy’ guests would prefer to stay somewhere without a height limit—Roxanne isn’t sure what that’s about.

But she has a good imagination, and she cannot imagine Megamind sleeping in a tent. He probably would if she asked him to, but he wouldn’t be happy about it. He’s a city boy.

Sitting on her sofa with her laptop, Roxanne grins to herself. She lives in the city now and she doesn’t own a tent, but she grew up in a camping family. It’d be fun to bring Megamind and Minion along camping someday and see how they do. It’d be a disaster, of course; her mother hates Megamind. But Roxanne still can’t help but think it’d be a good time regardless.

So…well, that’s…fine. That’s probably fine. She’ll book them a couple of rooms at the venue. Definitely the night before the wedding, and the night after. Roxanne does NOT want to be trying to travel on either of those days. And…you know what, sure. She’ll book them an extra night before the wedding as well. The hotel is right on the edge of a national park; there’s bound to be all kinds of hiking trails and sightseeing, and October in Nevada might not even be terribly hot. An extra day to wander around and see things, or to just relax after traveling down sounds really nice. It looks like there might be a pool but she can’t really tell.

But it’ll be nice! She’ll have to check with Megamind about how many days he's willing to spend on her, but at least she has so much vacation time at this point that she isn't worried about maybe taking a week.

Curled up on her sofa in the gathering dusk in her lounge clothes, she stretches. She is honestly really excited about this. It’ll be fun to get to know Megamind better. To really actually hang out with him, for a change. 

The first time he ever showed up at Roxanne’s place and ended up visiting, she wasn’t supposed to be home at all. She had a flight scheduled for that morning, but she had woken up to her alarm with a raging fever, a headache, and a horrendously sore throat. And that was it, really. She couldn’t go to the airport like that; she could barely get herself out of bed for a glass of water. She swore, cried a little, glared at her packed suitcase, cried some more, and then went back to sleep.

When she woke up, it was to the sound of her balcony door downstairs slamming carelessly closed and uneven booted footsteps on the stairs up to her loft. Panicked, she had rolled out of bed and then immediately rolled under it. She couldn’t handle Megamind today! Not like this! And what was he thinking, coming into her bedroom? He NEVER came into her bedroom!

She watched his boots limp badly across her carpet to—her—bathroom? She didn’t have very long to be surprised or to wonder about the limping, because Minion’s sharp voice suddenly crackled into the room and made her jump.

"Sir! I really think this is a terrible idea! Where are you? Are you at Roxanne’s?"

That was new, her first name in Minion’s voice. She blinked. He sounded irritated, tense.

"Go away," Megamind snarled, standing between Roxanne’s bed and her bathroom. "Go away go away go AWAY! Leave me alone! Just—leave me alone! I need—"

"Sir—"

"She’s out of town," he snapped. "I’ll send the brainbots to clean up and she’ll never know. If you can figure out what’s happening with the hot water, be my guest, but until then—"

"This is a bad idea—"

"—Until then, I will be here! With my watch! Off!" And there was a beep, a muffled curse, a flurry of movement, and then a crash that made Roxanne flinch. The sound of a small device connecting with the tile of her bathroom floor at high speed.

What the hell?

Megamind stood for a moment, audibly breathing hard, and then he snarled another curse and swept into her bathroom. There was a lot of rustling, a lot of shouted swearing, and then the unmistakable sound of her shower curtain being yanked open and then closed again. The water kicked on a second or so later.

Was he seriously taking a shower?

Blinking, throat still wickedly sore and head spinning, Roxanne pulled Twitter up on her phone to check the #MegaMecha tag. And…

…Oh. Oh, that was a rough fight, it looked like. Megamind went down hard, and went down early, and it didn’t get any better from there. Frankly it’s a miracle he evaded capture; there were cops on the scene by the score and they would not have been shy with their tasers.

Well, she did need to eat something anyway. It was probably a good thing he woke her up, it was past three in the afternoon.

Quietly, moving slowly, Roxanne pulled herself out from under her bed and got to her feet, aching in every joint and also her skin somehow, and after a long few seconds chewing on her lip, she gathered up a few items from her room, her first-aid kit, and a piece of paper.

Truce. Clean yourself up. Come downstairs. R.

She crept into her bathroom. It wasn't hard; the door was wide open. Megamind’s gear was in a pile on the floor and there was…oh. It must have been a worse fight than she had thought; there was blood on the floor. And judging by the silhouette, the man himself was sitting on the floor of her shower with his forehead on his knees, and she could hear, above the hiss of the water, the sort of…intermittent, huffy-breath sound of a very angry adult trying not to cry like a very tired child.

…Huh.

She quietly left everything she put together for him on the counter next to her bathroom sink. Relying on the roaring rattle of her bathroom fan and the hiss of her shower to drown her out, she gathered up as much of Megamind’s gear as she could carry, and then…she went downstairs. Put his clothes in her kitchen sink and put some canned chicken soup on the stove to heat up, then started googling "how to get blood out of leather" mostly to keep herself awake.

If she had not been so feverish and dizzy, she might have thought twice about effectively stealing Megamind’s clothes and abandoning him in the shower. As it was, all she could think of was to leave his cape and spandex-ish undersuit in her sink with cold water and ice cubes, and then find the blood on his leathers and start blotting it off with paper towels. Because it was going to stain, and then Minion would complain and Minion was already upset, it sounded like. So she slowly arranged Megamind's leathers on her kitchen island and began to try and sort them out, turning every so often to stir the warming soup and trying not to cough all over everything.

Upstairs, her shower cut off, and Roxanne paused. Listening. Waiting.

Silence.

She exhaled, then winced as her sigh of small relief turned into a harsh, barking cough into her elbow. God. She was…not well.

Several minutes passed. The soup began to steam. Roxanne leaned on her elbows on the counter, willing herself to stay awake. The stove was on, she couldn’t sleep.

Finally when she turned around from stirring the soup, Megamind was standing at the bottom of her stairs. Her pajamas hung oddly on his thin frame, and he had her fluffy bathrobe with the seahorse print belted tightly around his waist and his arms clenched over his chest.

"Hey," Roxanne croaked. "I made us some soup."

He blinked at her, and then his furiously defensive scowl eased just a little.

"…You’re…ill?"

She nodded.

Slowly, his head lifted. Slowly, he uncrossed his arms.

"What did you hear?"

She stared at him, uncomprehending. "Hear?" she said, and then she thought, oh, the fight with Minion. "Oh. Um. Minion didn’t seem happy? And something about hot water. I tried to sort out your leathers and your cape before the blood could stain, but…"

"No, I mean—okay." He shook himself, visibly cleared his expression, and then he limped towards her, flicking his hands in a sort of shoo motion as she backed away from him out of habit. "Go sit. Go sit down, you should not be out of bed. Do you have—the—the usual horrible swill you people drink. Orange juice?"

Roxanne shook her head, feeling herself sag a little bit. Orange juice would be nice, and usually she would have stocked up at the first sign of a sore throat. But this flu had come out of nowhere.

"Hm. Go and sit."

So she went. And sat. She ate the soup he brought her, and Megamind sat at the other end of her sofa and also ate soup, and when Roxanne finished her soup and started shivering, he rose, and took off her fluffy bathrobe, and put it very gingerly around her shoulders, and then returned to his spot on the sofa.

"Thanks," she whispered, struggling into the sleeves and then reaching for her box of tissues. "God, what…an absolutely shitty day."

"Were you not supposed to be on a plane several hours ago?" he asked as she blew her nose. "I am quite certain you had a flight scheduled at seven-fifty this morning."

Roxanne gestured vaguely at her face, and then the rest of her, and then she fake-coughed pathetically into her arm. "I’m sick. Cough cough."

"Boo, you whore," he replied, which sent Roxanne into a storm of shocked laughter and then real coughing when her breath caught in her throat.

"You—aghgh fuck—oh my god—was-wasn’t expecting—you to have seen that film—"

He was laughing quietly. "Minion enjoyed it more than I could. But it was…eminently quotable."

Roxanne nodded. "Yeah. Yeah." She managed to compose herself, then shook her head. "Well. Truce, for today. Okay? You want to watch a movie, or something?"

He shrugged. "You can put one on if you’d like. Before you settle in—ah—may I, please, trouble you for an eyeglass repair kit, a scarf, and some kind of zippering jacket?"

That had been another surprise. Megamind can be such a peacock on stage, can be so annoying, but one on one he is capable of occasionally being fairly polite—usually when he's discomfited, which Roxanne had been too out of it to pick up on at the time.

But she did have all those things on hand. While Roxanne doesn’t wear glasses, she's learned she'll never know when a tiny screwdriver might come in handy, especially when dealing with the particular curveballs her particular life often sends her. And a scarf and jacket weren't hard to gather up. A few minutes after she brought him what he needed and then flopped down on the couch to watch her usual sick day Studio Ghibli collection, Megamind was putting his watch back together and talking to Minion, pacing back and forth in front of her windows. And about an hour after that, the roar of the hoverbike pulled Roxanne out of a shallow nap, and—oh, hey, orange juice. And more soup (better soup). And a blanket. And her pillow. And fuzzy socks. And Tylenol. And NyQuil. Nice.

("What is this?" she remembers Megamind asking, at some point in there. 

"Ponyo."

"Is it for babies?"

"Uh-huh. And for me, when I'm sick."

"…Fascinating.")

She woke up the following morning on her sofa, surrounded by cold and flu remedies, wrapped up in a blanket she didn’t recognize, with her head on her pillow from upstairs and kleenex all over her floor, soup and juice in her refrigerator, and a brainbot resting on her feet with its limbs folded neatly under its carapace, in sleep mode. Her scarf, jacket, and pajamas were all neatly folded on her chair nearby, along with a small bottle of something violently yellow and a note that read, My thanks for lunch and the use of your shower. To clear up your illness, drink three full glasses of water and then the contents of the yellow bottle (shake well. DO NOT DRINK THE YELLOW BOTTLE FIRST!!!!!!). Be sure to have tissues on hand. Or paper towels.

Megamind has not entered her bedroom again since, as far as Roxanne knows, but that was the start. Both of them simply…existing in the same space on a mutually crummy day, and then Megamind unexpectedly curing her of the flu. She had followed his instructions, and she didn't have to wonder for long about what all the water was for because as soon as the bottle of yellow stuff was empty (it had tasted like paint and had a similar texture. it smelled horrendous, from what little she could smell), her sinuses filled up and started trickling. It had been awful. Roxanne had blown her nose more or less repeatedly for something like an hour and a half and then stumbled back over to her sofa in a daze and passed out, vaguely resolving to kick Megamind’s ass the next time she saw him. But when she woke up the second time, she did feel pretty much completely better. And astonishingly well-rested.

He doesn't come by often, but she can't say she's sorry to see him when he does. He's fun.

She heats dinner up for herself, frozen squash and chicken, and pokes around looking at various travel options to get to Nevada for a while. She's finished eating and almost settled on a flight down before she realizes…wait, Megamind probably can't fly, can he? Would he have the identification needed to get on a plane? Wouldn't he be on a no-fly list, or something?

From chatting with Sheila over the years and her occasional contact with Billy—no, Doctor Horrible, she reminds herself; he's twitchy these days about being called Billy now that he's ‘made it’—she knows a lot of the various guilds and syndicates have protections in place, privileges, insurance, so their members can lead reasonably ‘normal’ lives out of uniform. It's rare these days for villains and heroes to seem to want to lead lives out of uniform, which…Roxanne can't really blame them; the regulations surrounding secret identities get more and more complicated and less and less secret every year. It's almost impossible now to pull off in any way that won't land you in jail for trying to operate in good faith as an independent agent. Most of the ones who have attained ‘super’ status have given up trying entirely.

But then, if you go hard enough to become a super, you almost have to be in it as a lifestyle, not a job. If you want a normal life outside of the vigilante umbrella you go into the Henchmens’ or Sidekicks’ Unions. Not the Guild of Calamitous Intent or the Evil League of Evil or the Daylight Brigade. And working as a super and an independent agent…

Wayne used to complain almost constantly about how many times he's had to switch lawyers to make sure all his licensing requirements were met and his renewals were filed. He hasn't brought it up to Roxanne in a while and she has some private thoughts about who he might have gone to for help with it—he was so sick of switching firms, and he was starting to get twitchy about signing powers of attorney after the sweeping updates to Section 170 two years ago.

"Don't suppose you'd do it for me," he said to her, shortly after that. He had just found out he hadn't been insured for his powerset for almost half of the year prior. The issue was caught and resolved by the time he found out, but he had been really rattled. "I dunno, Roxie. I trust you."

"I can't take that responsibility," she said, and he sighed and nodded. "You don't trust your lawyer?"

"I dunno," he said again. "Don't know if I can afford to, anymore."

"You can afford basically anything, I thought—"

"Wrong kind of afford," he said, and that was the last she ever heard about it. But he did ask her to sign some kind of fancy medical power of attorney with a lot of Latin in the description.

"Basically it means if I'm ever declared not to be of sound mind, I'm saying right now that you and one other person speak for me, and good luck to anybody trying to overturn that," he said. "You and him gotta agree on whatever you decide, but…it's you and him and nobody else, and I'm making that call now, is the point."

"Okay," she slowly said, staring down at the sheaf of papers in her hands. "I'm honored. And…who is…?"

"Hopefully you'll never need to know."

The name above hers on the form she signed was one she didn't recognize. Something foreign, South African or Mozambican, maybe. Well, that was fine; Wayne knew all kinds of people. She was just surprised he had never mentioned this Khumalo-Walsh person to her before.

Stuff the comic books don't always cover: Legal requirements about vigilante work.

But. For now, she stops looking at flights down, and starts looking at driving.

And then she gulps, and texts Megamind.

RR: hey can you fly
MM: Was this text meant for me?
RR: yep
MM: I think perhaps I am missing some important context
MM: Fly in what sense? Load me into a trebuchet and I'll go pretty far. Or fire me ‘out the ass end of a homemade gundam,’ as you so kindly put it.
RR: sailing in a sad parabola is not flying
RR: but I mean, like, on a plane?
MM: Ah! In that case yes I can fly, if I can get onto a plane. Which is a separate kettle of worms
RR: ok listen here you miserable pedant
MM: No I cannot fly
RR: I am trying to plan how we'll get where we're going and now I'm stressing out because it's going to take like 30 hours to drive so a little cooperation would be appreciated
RR: Oh. ok thank you. Sorry.
MM: You seemed to be joking
RR: yeah that's on me, sorry. okay
RR: fuck. so, we're driving
MM: How many miles?
RR: about 2100 :(

She’s biting her lip, frowning at nothing, trying to think. Can she ask him to invent something he can fly in? Would that be unreasonable? She’s already asking him to travel out of state to come to a wedding with her, she’s asking enough. Requesting that he invent a whole new method of travel for her convenience would be beyond the pale; she can’t do that to him. But—

Her phone buzzes and she looks down, and then her jaw drops.

MM: I can do that in 14!
RR: omg
RR: wait seriously?
RR: like as the crow flies?
MM: No, we would still be traveling over the roads, but at a height of roughly 10M above the ground. Airship has a max speed of 150mph, so 14 hours. Give or take.
MM: Is that better?
RR: holy shit you’re the BEST
RR: ok yeah that's WAY better! omg thank you
MM: LOL! :)
MM: Important note, 14 is the minimum, it might take a little longer. But nowhere near 30!! And I can maybe optimize it to go faster.
RR: ok so…call it…one, maybe two nights on the road? unless you wanna fly straight through. We could do that in a day, 14 is super doable.

There's a long pause after this one. Finally her phone hums again.

MM: Is there a correct answer?

She frowns.

RR: no? I’m asking for a preference
RR: do you want to fly straight through in one day, or do you want to break it up into two days?
MM: Which of those options will mean less stress for you?

She massages her temples. Swallows. Tells herself it's unreasonable to be annoyed, he's trying to be accommodating. For possibly the first time ever in her acquaintance with him.

RR: I'm probably just stressed because I don't usually take a lot of vacation. I don't think either of those choices will add or detract from my stress levels
RR: thanks though. it's kind of you to worry
MM: BIG SHRUG
RR: wait, can you even sit still for 14 hours?
MM: I can do anything!
RR: right, of course. silly me
MM: But I will be MUY GRUMPY.
RR: lol yeahhhh I suspect spending that long in a box will make us both grumpy. Let’s spend the night somewhere then
RR: maybe two?

There’s another long, long pause. Long enough that she gets up and gets herself ready for bed with no interruptions from her phone. As she crawls into bed in the silver-sepia undarkness of a bed in midtown Metro with no blackout curtains, she sighs.

RR: there’s no wrong answer to this one either, btw
RR: I can’t really see you sitting for 7 hours, and if 14 is the minimum…idk what kind of fuel your ship uses, but in a car, I’d probably add at least one more hour for rest stops. Probably more
RR: so you want to do two nights? I'm thinking we'll do 3 at the venue so we have a whole day before the wedding to relax and then we can leave the day after
MM: We can do one night while traveling. Thank you.

She grins in spite of herself. Aw, he’s nervous! That’s when he tends to remember his manners.

MM: I should also mention. You could fly, and I could join you. Then you would not be spending lots of time away from work.
MM: Minion tells me I should not mention this, because you need to take more breaks.
RR: nah, I miss road trips. Do you wanna talk about this the next time you’re over? Probably be easier in person
MM: Tomorrow?
RR: I’ll be around tomorrow :)
MM: Then so will I! :)

Roxanne’s covers rustle as she flops onto her back with a sigh of relief to try and dispel her remaining anxious misgivings. Because, okay! They can do this! Easily! Megamind already has an airship, what luck, and he'll be over tomorrow and they can figure this out.

It's been so long since she's traveled anywhere with anyone. It's always such a pain; she prefers to travel alone whenever possible. She can't really say why she didn't jump at Megamind's offer to simply meet her at the venue, but…leaving him to make his own way down with no company seems mean when he's doing all this as a favor to her. And maybe her misgivings aren't being fair to him. He isn't draining to be around when he's hanging out with her. Maybe he'll be equally okay to travel with? 

Well, the travel itself is handled, and their rooms at the venue are taken care of. All she needs to do is try and make sure her companion has as nice a time as possible. She can do that, she's sure, or at least she can do her best. It's still stressful, traveling with anyone always is, but they'll be fine. It's just Megamind. He won't be a problem. She's excited! Hadn't she just thought, earlier tonight, she's excited? To do this? 

She sighs, and rolls over and wraps her arm and leg over her body pillow, and closes her eyes. Maybe she'll feel better after she sleeps.

Chapter Text

Roxanne feels only a little bit better after she sleeps. Mostly what she feels when she wakes up is tired. Still, she goes to work, and she puts in a request for her vacation time.

The wedding itself is on a Wednesday, of all days, so she does go ahead and request the full week off, as well as the following Monday just in case everything is awful and she needs extra time to come down. It probably isn’t necessary—she wants to think it isn’t necessary—but it’s insurance. Knowing she has the extra time and she’ll only have to deal with a four-day work week afterwards helps ease the knot in her stomach by a lot.

And then, of course, she tries to throw herself into her work, but by midafternoon, that knot is really starting to piss her off. There’s just no reason for it! Everything is fine! She has her ‘bodyguard’ arranged for the trip, she has a rough outline of a plan, everything is coming up Roxie! She’ll be fine.

She will be fine and she knows it, but she’s still distracted all day. She keeps trying to find better routes on the internet and then remembering she's at work, she's looking into hotels in a couple of cities and then thinking no, I should wait for Megamind. She very nearly copies the wrong Lance on a sensitive email, and she replies to another one hours after she had meant to. Her response is terribly rushed; she remembers it right as she's about to leave. At least she remembers, at all, but she wastes precious minutes on her slapdash reply and misses her usual bus home. The next one isn't for another half-hour. She spends it playing with the route on her phone, wondering if it's presumptuous of her, wondering how her parents used to do this every summer with two kids and each other to worry about.

Ugh.

By the time Megamind lands on her balcony that evening, the last thing she wants is to even think about travel plans. This is going to be a disaster, she’s going to hate the whole trip and Megamind is going to be miserable and the whole thing is going to be awful. She doesn’t want to look at it, doesn’t want to think about it.

But she needs to. She'll feel better when it's done, probably. And on the bright side, it’s still just Megamind. That remains a reassuring thought.

"Hey," she says, opening the door to let him in, glad to see him in spite of everything. He’s in street clothes—skinny jeans tucked into his boots, some band tee shirt she doesn’t recognize—which she isn’t sure she’ll ever be used to. But he is also wearing fingerless gloves covered in spikes and chains and some kind of skull and crossbones motif; the spikes at least are familiar. "Thanks for coming over. Um. Do you want…tea? Coffee? Can I get you anything?"

"Oh! Ah…" He glances past her, eyebrows up and shoulders stiff. "Coffee? Yes?"

"Decaf or regular?"

"…Regular?"

The door jumps and catches on its hinges a little as he closes it behind himself; Roxanne is already on her way to the kitchen. "Just as a heads-up," she says over her shoulder, "I am kind of a basket case about all this right now. I don’t get it, everything is fine! You’ve got some kind of super-speedy airship saving the day! I do not know," as she pulls her coffee and filters down from the cupboard, "what on earth I am even so worked up about. Can you fill the pot for me? I don’t know how much you want. I’ll probably only have one cup, myself."

"Mm." He takes the coffee pot and turns on the tap. "Probably only one for me, as well. But. A big one."

She laughs a little and nods.

"So how do you usually like to travel?" she asks, jimmying a filter loose and putting it in the basket so she can start scooping grounds. "Like…do you like to plan everything out, or play it by ear, or…?"

"I don’t," he says. And then, when Roxanne glances over at him, he says, "Travel. I don’t travel. Really at all."

"What, ever?"

He shrugs.

"You’ve never left Metro."

She’s doubtful, and it definitely shows in her tone, but then Megamind says, "I have traveled more than far enough for one lifetime to ever want to leave simply for leaving’s sake," and oh, shit, that's right. But good lord, she can't imagine. She honestly cannot even imagine. One city? One? His whole life?

"Are you sure you’re okay with this, then?" She shakes her head. "You really do not have to go, if you don’t want to. I’ll be fine." The water in the pot he filled goes into the coffeemaker’s reservoir, and then Roxanne closes everything up and pushes brew.

"As will I," Megamind returns, blue lips curving up at the corners, "but I definitely will no longer be fine if I cheat Minion out of the opportunity to make you a cocktail dress.

"Besides," he adds, "it sounds…fun. Interesting, at least. A change of scenery! The open road, the—rolling—hills? Freedom! Etcetererarara!"

Roxanne blinks and then sputters a laugh in spite of herself. "How many Rs do you think are in etcetera?"

"Many!"

"One," she says, but she still can't keep from smiling.

"‘Many’ is relative," Megamind says, arch. "Many can be one."

"One is the one thing many CAN’T be!"

"Well not with that attitude."

She’s grinning. "You," she says, fond. She bumps her knuckles against his arm with a smile as she says, "Come on. The coffee will be a minute, let's go talk travel and I'll see if I can't chill out a little. I don't think I've ever gone somewhere with someone who had no idea how they like to do any of this!"

"So, the wedding is on a Wednesday," Roxanne says as she sits down in the corner of her sectional and curls up there. Megamind hesitates, standing, glancing back and forth between the opposite ends of the sofa. "I went ahead and took the whole week off. I figure, we’ll get there Monday, have Tuesday to recover from the trip," Megamind appears to make a decision; he throws himself down onto one of the cushions with a tremendous scrunching of upholstery fabric and a kicking of feet to get his boots off so he can pull his legs up as Roxanne continues, "and maybe look around the area. And then we’ll start for home sometime Thursday morning. Is that…good? Or…"

"That all sounds reasonable to me," Megamind agrees, settling in against the armrest. "Yes. And. When do we start for…there? First?"

Ordinarily, her infrequent unlooked-for houseguest takes his seat at the end of her couch closest to the door of her deck. But he’s on the other end, tonight. There’s still quite a bit of distance between them, the same amount as usual, but…still. Sitting farther from the door is a deliberate choice; Roxanne knows him well enough by now to know he wouldn’t change where he sits out of carelessness. She can’t help but feel a little bit touched. And relieved—he must not have been too offended at her snapping at him over text message last night, then.

"When we leave is up to you," she says, firm. Megamind’s eyes flash to hers. "If I was going with Wayne, we’d probably fly down Tuesday, and he’d want to come back basically as soon as possible after the reception. I don’t know how much time away you can afford, or how much you want to spend."

"I—oh," he stammers, blinking. "You—really? I—get to pick? When we leave?"

She nods.

Megamind swallows. Flashes a smile under big eyes. He appears to be studying her.

(He has been going in circles all day about this very thing. Roxanne asked him along on this trip with her; he is not imposing himself on her. To ask for more days of travel for any reason feels like the absolute height of selfishness, even if she is offering them, even if she is the one suggesting them—which she was, originally—but. Megamind is selfish. He is allowed be selfish; he is a villain; selfishness is expected of him. He has no problem handling any other area of his life in this way. He takes what he wants and walks away with it, end of story. If he wants more days with Roxanne then he should take those days; if he wants fewer days he should…do…something about that. Optimize the engine of his airship so it can fly faster and they don’t have to stop in the middle of their journey and sleep.)

(But. Roxanne is…unlike other areas of his life. Roxanne is, unfortunately, special. For reasons that are themselves exceptionally selfish, but that’s fine. He’s fine. Megamind made his peace with all this years ago; he’s been more or less okay since. It just means he isn’t able to be as careless with her as he used to be.)

"I did say," he says, speaking carefully, "we could fly down in—in two blocks. Of seven hours."

"Probably closer to eight," Roxanne points out again, "allowing for rest stops."

(The problem, of course, is that care is not something Megamind performs particularly well. He generally does his best not to; it’s intensely nerve-wracking. And he already cares about this…this traveling thing, this wedding-bodyguard thing, far more than he’s comfortable with caring, and now Roxanne is acting strange and it is not helping his nerves. Her miserable pedant text last night had made his blood go cold in a way he did NOT enjoy AT ALL.)

(He replied as quickly as he could when he saw it, but he was busy. Distracted. Several minutes had already passed and her angry follow-up came through almost the exact moment he sent his reply and he had very nearly panicked entirely. At least she seemed mollified quickly enough afterwards, but the whole conversation left him queasy regardless.)

He takes a deep breath. "Yes. And. That…is many hours. I can, I can do it! Easily! But—but if—you already have the time, then—two? Nights? Might be better?"

Roxanne grins. "I know I’ll be way less of a crankypants if we split the distance a little more. Can you spare the time? It’ll be okay?"

"Oh, I’m sure Minion can keep the city under control for a week," he says, shoulders dropping, chin lifting. "I shall leave detailed instructions. Yes."

Roxanne nods. "Cool. Awesome, okay. So…leave Saturday? To get there on Monday?"

He nods.

"And start for home Thursday, arrive back in Metro on Saturday again. I think that's perfect."

Megamind exhales. And then he blinks, and his expression wrinkles a little, because:

"Thanks again for doing this," Roxanne adds. "I know it's really not your style—"

"Am I going to need to make a Boingo card for the number of times you thank me," he sighs. "Is this going to be a regular thing."

"I mean, you are kind of doing me a massive favor," she protests, "at significant inconvenience to yourself, so…yeah, I’m going to thank you for it."

He sighs again, loudly, and Roxanne throws a hand into the air. "Look, just humor me," she says, exasperated. "Okay? This is an enormous pain in the neck, you and Minion are doing so much, let me at least be grateful! Good lord."

"Minion is doing fashion and I am along for the ride," he shoots back. "What is the pain in my neck, here? You? Please."

"I happen to know I am very frequently a pain in your neck."

"Yes, fine, Exhibit A, now who is a pedant? It's you. So what happens now?"

She blinks, thrown. "Sorry?"

"Traveling. We know the days. Now what?"

Ah. Right. Roxanne takes a deep breath and pulls her legs in closer.

"I guess the main question is to what extent you want things planned out," she says. Megamind is still frowning, sort of peering at her now; this is not helping her feel at ease. She shrugs a shoulder, fiddling with the hem of her shorts. "Some people like to just see what happens, other people like to decide what's going to happen as much as possible and then stick to it…both styles have benefits and pitfalls."

"Why would plans have pitfalls?"

She nods. That’s fine, it’s fine, she’ll adapt. She’s good at adapting. And she can't help but smile a little, because, "Ha. I kind of thought you might be more of a planning type, yep. We—"

"No." To her surprise, he waves at her, gestures for her to stop.

"Huh?"

"No," he says. "Tell me why plans would be bad."

"Oh!" She shrugs. "Firm plans just make it harder to be flexible, that’s all. Some people get frazzled if they think they're straying too far from what they decided was going to happen."

"Are you one of these people?"

"Not really? I'm fine either way. If you like to have plans, I can do that; if you don't, that’s also okay."

He scrunches up his face for a moment, then cocks his enormous blue head. He's squinting at her.

Roxanne waits. Finally she says, "…What?"

"You're weird," he says. And then, very quickly and with much waving of hands, "Or—no no! You're—acting? Weird? You’re acting weird. Look, I don't travel. Do whatever you want, I'll figure it out."

She bites her lip. It's just…

It's just that she's trying to think of some kind of compromise, and not actually knowing what even she’s compromising on, and feeling oddly exhausted for some inexplicable reason. This really didn’t seem like such a big deal at all back when she decided to ask him to do this with her originally, so why does it feel so big now? And she could just take charge, plan everything, and simply tell him where they're going and when. She could do that; it sounds like that's what he was expecting her to do. But she doesn't know how to plan something Megamind won't hate, and he's never even been out of the city, so…

After a few moments, looking deeply unnerved, Megamind says, "I’ll be right back," and he rises and sweeps himself away back to her kitchen, where the coffeemaker is gurgling through its last sputters.

Roxanne stays, chewing on the inside of her lip and staring into the middle distance. She wants to try and think of some kind of starting place, but she keeps returning to the idea that this is Megamind’s first time out of the city since arriving here on Earth. That's so sad. And—okay, it means he doesn't know how he likes things to be while traveling; that's okay, that should be fine. Roxanne doesn’t mind taking the lead. It's just that she does want him to have fun, is the thing, and now she DOUBLE wants him to have fun, and she has no idea how best to make that happen! Her own style of travel, the one that's safest, is to simply adapt to her traveling companions and accommodate—but this traveling companion doesn't travel. So—

Megamind appears at her elbow and she jumps.

"Here," he says, before Roxanne can say anything, and he hands her a mug of coffee and then sits himself back down against the armrest.

"Miss Ritchi," he says as he settles. "Roxanne. I…have learned, in my years as a professional villain, that there is quite a lot of ground between ‘everything mapped out to the minute’ and ‘totally winging it.’ From what you're saying," carefully, he sips at his own mug, "there is no right or wrong way to do this? It's…dealer's choice, as it were. Up to the individuals in question."

Roxanne nods.

"Then, what—style—of travel are you used to?"

She sighs, shrugs again with both hands wrapped around her drink in her lap, sitting cross-legged on her sofa with her bare feet tucked under her knees. "My family is a ‘planning everything down to the minute’ kind of family." The liquid in her mug tilts and moves, still swirling very slightly from having been stirred in the kitchen. The overhead lights flash on its surface and make her blink. "I don't…always find that the easiest to deal with? I do like plans, you know me," glancing up, and Megamind nods, "but the road throws you curveballs a lot. You can't anticipate everything, you'll just make yourself crazy trying! I remember this one time, my older brother had indigestion and we had to spend a couple hours at a rest stop—in Indiana, of all places; Indiana rest stops are garbage—and my parents were so pissed. They were so…just, ready to snap at any moment for the rest of the day." She swallows. "It's not a bad way to travel, really it's not. And, and sometimes they'd do unplanned things! Sometimes it was fine! It's just…"

Megamind's forehead rumples with confusion. Much of his early childhood was spent dealing with some digestive issue or other; his uncles had been tangibly frustrated about it at times, but it seems an odd thing to be angry about. "What were you late for?"

"Nothing! That's the thing!" She waves a hand, makes a face. "But they had decided we were going to check into the hotel at four PM and eat dinner at five, but then we didn't get to the hotel until six thirty instead and it threw everything off. Drew felt awful, we were both on eggshells the whole next day. They laugh about it now but they still usually say something sarcastic like ‘better add two hours for indigestion’ when we’re figuring out travel arrangements."

"You missed your check-in time," he guesses. Hotels are like airports, then. He's heard stories about airports.

But Roxanne shakes her head. "Not really? Check in is usually in the early afternoon and you can show up anytime after that. If you’ll be really late, it's a good idea to let them know so they don't assume you aren't coming and give your room to someone else on a busy night. But…no, it’s usually not really important at all."

Slowly, Megamind nods.

"Why don’t," he says, hoping this is an okay thing to suggest and watching her closely for any sign he should switch tacks, "we decide where to sleep. And we'll get there when we get there?"

And all the tension goes out of her. She looks up at him.

…Interesting, he thinks.

"Would that be okay?" She sounds very relieved. "That wouldn't freak you out?"

He shrugs. "I don't see why it would. It seems reasonable. Know where you're going, but don't rush the course."

"Okay. Awesome, thank you. Yeah, that sounds great! Okay." She exhales and sips her coffee, then makes a small noise and blinks down at it.

"Two sugars and roughly an eighth as much milk as coffee," he says. "No?"

"It’s perfect," she says. "Thanks, sorry, I’m just…surprised. Thank you. I guess that’s two more on your bingo card," she adds with a wry grin, and he snorts into his mug. "Do you have any ideas for what kind of place you’d like to stay?" She takes another drink, then adds, "We can really stop anywhere you like."

Megamind shrugs, uncomfortable. Being asked what he wants when it comes to Normal Things Normal People Do has…not turned out well for him, historically. It's rare to be asked at all, and when he is, he is typically either mocked or denied. Unlikely that Roxanne would do either, but in this case, he is also still not entirely sure what she’s referring to.

"I’ve done all this before," Roxanne says, when he doesn’t speak. "I don’t want to just do everything my way. You should see what you want to see!"

He hesitates. "What kinds of places…are there?"

"Let’s narrow it down—"

"From what?"

"City, or rural?"

"WHAT city or rural?"

She blinks at him. "Like…hotels? AirBNBs?"

He shrugs. "It’s all just beds."

Her expression clears, but she doesn’t seem like she’s about to laugh at him. "It’s not JUST beds," she says. "If we were driving straight through, it might be. But we’ll only be shooting for around five-ish hours of actual travel per day, which means we’ll probably have some time to hang out and poke around wherever we end up, if we get an early enough start. If you want to stay in the hotel, I won’t drag you around, but…we could…you know, wander around a new city. Or go for a walk on a nature trail, or find a park and feed the ducks…anything."

"Oh."

He’s quiet.

Anything?

"If you want to stay somewhere urban, we can," she says. "The venue in Nevada is way more rural, I don’t want you to feel like a fish out of water the WHOLE time."

Megamind opens his mouth to say let's stay urban, since Roxanne is insistent on his preferences and he really does not have any, but urban is more familiar to him. But then the second half of what she said sinks in and he says, "Water?"

"Hm?"

He shakes himself. "If—somewhere—with water? Somewhere with water."

"Like, a pool?"

He shakes his head.

"Lakes, then? Rivers? You'll want to swim?"

He nods.

"If possible," he adds, somewhat belatedly. "It—is fine if I stay dry. It's fine."

"Oh I'm sure we can find something to suit you," she assures him, unfolding her legs and reaching for her computer. "And either way, I mean, this is going to be SO much nicer than going by car, so that's me taken care of! Okay, so…then, that’s going to be around seven hundred miles a day…"

By the time Megamind leaves later that evening, Roxanne is finally feeling a lot better about the whole thing. She has a much clearer idea of Megamind’s needs and preferences, she has a stronger sense of what he might enjoy versus what he might despise or what might make him uncomfortable.

That was what was bothering her, she’s pretty sure, probably. After talking all this out with him, she’s nearly certain the majority of her anxiety on the subject was that she had no idea what her companion might even want to do, let alone actively plan on. Megamind may not be sure what he wants out of the day, but he does at least seem to have a solid grasp of what he DOESN’T want. It’s enough to be reassuring. That must have been why she was so upset. Mystery solved. She can ignore her lingering slight twist of worry; it’ll go away on its own.

Megamind, meanwhile, leaves Roxanne’s apartment feeling deeply discomfited.

He is not accustomed to seeing her so out of sorts. Or—rather, he is used to seeing her out of sorts and angry about it, not out of sorts and insisting she is fine. And she kept saying, if he wants, she kept saying, what would he like. But what if what he wants is wrong? Or worse, bad in some way, as it so often is? He has no way of knowing the implications of his choices; he is entirely adrift in this. He always has been.

"I want you to be comfortable," she had said at last, when he asked for the third time to know what Roxanne wanted to do. "I know this is all way beyond anything I’ve asked from you before."

He shook his head.

"I’m not going to be comfortable," he told her. "I rarely am. I enjoy myself regardless. You are the expert in this; you take the lead. Plan what you want! And I will find ways to enjoy myself."

She had hesitated at that, and Megamind very nearly lost his calm—Roxanne rarely hesitates and she had been pausing like that all evening and the twisted rope of his nerves was frayed nearly through—but then she said, "Okay. You’ll tell me if you aren’t having fun, though. Okay? And we’ll do something else, instead."

He jerked his head in a nod. "Yes. And—and you will tell me if you are stressed!"

Roxanne had looked startled at that, and Megamind was nearly vibrating, he was so tense, but he still managed to stiffly say, "If you are stressed. Unhappy. You will tell me. And, and we—will—do something else. Instead."

And he stuck out his hand, dizzy and nearly sick with anxiety by that point.

Roxanne looked at it. And—

—she sat up straighter and the lines of tension eased from her face. She shook his hand, fingers wrapping easily between the spikes on his knuckles.

"Deal," she said. "That’s fair."

In the sky, in the dark, on the bike, Megamind does his best to breathe. He almost still can’t believe this is happening. That Roxanne would trust him with something like this is…inconceivable to him. Baffling. He makes a regular habit of drugging her, threatening her, using her in his plots. Sometimes he kidnaps her from what she was doing with his plot barely even started, simply because he wants to see her. And she trusts him in her home? To make her drinks? To travel with her? To protect her from a room full of other villains and supervillains?

To protect her, at all.

The bike rumbles under him as he spirals up and around the narrowing column of Metro Tower. Sometimes he needs distance. Perspective.

Until now, height is the only distance Megamind has ever dared to take. It has never really occurred to him to leave the city entirely and look back; Metro is his home. He was not lying earlier: he has already traveled more than far enough in his life to satisfy any desire to leave home.

But the sky up here is clear and the roaring void of the stars is mostly drowned out by the glow of the city, and the top of the Tower is good for thinking and re-centering. As long as his nemesis hasn’t beaten him to it, of course, and thankfully, he hasn’t. This time.

Megamind tethers the bike to the Tower’s spire and slides down to land hard on the platform. Below him, the city sprawls away in all directions, thinning out into suburbs and farmland over the hills, cutting off sharply when it hits the lake. Distant sirens reach his ears. Honking of cars. No voices at this distance, but the city talks in its own way.

Down there are his uncles, and Minion. Down there somewhere is Metro Man, no doubt flinging himself flawlessly from one crisis to the next as he always does. Down there are those of his former classmates who didn’t move away after high school, or those who left and came back. Down there is his ever-shifting and growing network of social unsavories—people who are like him, who do whatever they must to get by. The dealers, the fences, the sex workers, the pimps. His cousins, in a way. He works to try and keep them from ever feeling as desperate as he once did, but he can’t always succeed.

Once, he came up here to die. He left that night wanting to live. His city had screamed up at him, bright and strong and teeming with life and opportunity and interest, and he knew—he knew when he came up to this platform, he had felt as though he was being swallowed whole, but…

Well. In retrospect, it does make sense that a highly-territorial creature might feel comforted, surveying his territory from such a vantage. He climbed back down from his tower half-blind with tears and with rage—at the world, for what it has done to him; at himself, for forgetting and nearly abandoning Minion—and then he went at his punching bag in Evil Lair until sand was piling up on the floor beneath it and his knuckles were bleeding. Those scars are old and pale now, but he kept them. To remind himself. Fight to live.

Now he stands on the platform with his arms over his chest, gazing down at the sprawl of his territory, lost in thought.

The last and only time he left Metro does not bear thinking about. It wasn't by choice; he has no qualms about letting Roxanne believe he's never left at all. Better to lie than talk about it, better to omit than think about it. But…he can’t…entirely help himself thinking, at times like this. If he had not gone—if he had not been taken—the tower on which he stands would very likely not exist. Metro City would look vastly different.

When Megamind landed here thirty-four years ago, Metro was a gray, polluted shit pile. Thick with smog and desperate with crime. A medium-sized city on its knees, choking on its own filth, nearly bankrupt.

But Megamind gave what he could to save himself. All he could think of that could not be turned into a weapon. An engine, non-combustion, powered by a loophole in the laws of physics as humanity understood them at the time. Faster than light.

They still hurt him for it. What they wanted was guns, not speed, and not the medical advances he might have given freely, had they asked. But it was enough. The Scott family got hold of the patents—somehow; he still isn’t sure how; maybe they built on Megamind’s shaky blueprints using their son’s sleek little craft—and funded one of the USA’s first commercial spaceports. When the first score of humans departed for Mars, they departed not from Cape Canaveral, but from gray, stinking Metro City.

The money flowed into Metro's coffers hand over fist from the Martian mining colonies of the late eighties. And, later, from deep beneath the ice of Europa, further out. It flowed in primarily at the federal level, obviously, but it flowed into Metro locally as well: jobs sprang up out of nowhere, staffing the spaceport, the shuttles to low-earth construction sites, the local manufacturing facilities. Construction and engineering in roughly equal numbers. The jobs multiplied, the Scotts and their contemporaries quietly selected the local politicians with care…

…and slowly, over the course of Megamind’s childhood, Metro City’s air cleared. Her roads were repaired. Her schools were renovated. Her libraries were fully-funded, for possibly the first time ever.

Megamind, of course, made his own opportunities. He seized the local crime lords when he was just sixteen and vicious with pain; he doesn’t like to remember himself from those days, but his methods worked and his uncles helped him through the worst of the emotional aftermath. Megamind dragged his city's underworld into line and began something like formal training in villainy, Metro Man and his family whipped her politicians into shape…

…and, eventually, the Metro Tower rose from the city’s center. The tallest building in the world, reaching for the stars.

Megamind turns his head and peers up at the metal spire, lips twisting dryly at the words engraved there: Ad astra.

Above those, in much less official script, hand-carved: Ex astris.

The city cared only for where they were going. Very few people know the truth of where all their technology came from, even now. But Megamind knows. He figured it out in his late teens. He nearly burned his city to the ground over it.

Minion talked him down, thankfully. Minion and his uncle Mitch, and haunt Sebestyen. And someone else.

So the tower went up, reaching to the stars, a symbol of the city’s strength and how far she had come. And Megamind, very quietly, climbed the spire and spent a good few hours carving his own origin into the metal. It was his, anyway, he figures. Bought and paid for. And he felt a little better, when it was done.

Ex astris, ad astra. From the stars, to the stars.

Once, Megamind had thought of college. University. Academic degrees in his name, and research, and respect. When he was younger he also thought of other things, childish things—silly, impossible dreams, but—in his teens, at least, he thought of college. He imagined, maybe, a husband someday. Someone who saw him as more than just a freak, someone who saw Minion as more than a talking fish, who saw them both for who and not what they were. Whoever that could ever be.

He left those dreams behind a long time ago. At least, he thought he had. Why would he keep them?That life is not for him. This world would steal his research, condemn him. Whisper behind his back and sneer to his face; Megamind has no respect beyond what he demands and no destiny beyond villainy. But that’s all right, he doesn't mind; it’s a solid career and a challenge for his intellect, a good fit for his showmanship—

And then. He met Roxanne.

He met Roxanne and she was brilliant. She backed him into corners conversationally, made him cackle with unexpected laughter. She was kind to Minion—she LIKED Minion!—and Megamind could barely make heads or tails of the flustered fluttering in his stomach the day his captive and his best friend started teasing him together.

He had met Roxanne, discovered to his abject dismay that he was bisexual—it would have been a fine realization had it not been so devastatingly pertinent; as it was, all he could think was, since when?!—and discovered, at the same time, that he still held those old dreams in him somewhere. In the quiet place inside him, in the carved-out empty hollow between sternum and spine. A life beyond villainy. Or a life of villainy, still, but…a version of villainy that was not so screamingly lonely. Megamind would not mind the prospect of dying young if his heart wasn’t so big and so empty, if his bed wasn’t so cold.

He had stood up from the floor of Roxanne’s shower burning with humiliation and disappointment. He stepped out of her shower and then nearly fainted in horror at the realization of what she must have seen, what she had heard, what she was now unmistakably sneering at him for. But he had nothing else and so he dressed in her clothes anyway, numb with rage and shrinking grief, and…

…she made him soup.

She made him soup. She said nothing about the naked weakness he had unwittingly shown. She pretended not to have any idea what he might be talking about when he asked if she had heard him crying. She lent him her clothes, cleaned his blood from his leathers, gave him food and ate with him, and then she fell asleep on her couch with the top of her head against his leg, burning with fever and trusting him. And Megamind had looked at her, and had known he loved her, and he has loved her ever since.

That was years ago. He’s made his peace with it. It usually doesn’t even hurt anymore, not that it had hurt much to begin with. He just…likes seeing her. He likes talking with her. He even likes just thinking of her; it makes him happy! It had felt bad for a while, going to her home and leaving afterwards knowing he had disrupted her yet again with his selfish desire to be near her and away from Evil Lair to breathe…but she rarely seemed to mind. And then one day she invited him to play video games with her! His selfishness has been easier to bear since then.

She seems to enjoy his company. She can’t possibly, but she does seem to. She is asking him to travel with her? She told him he was unobtrusive and welcome to visit as he pleases? She must like him. To some extent. Again, she can’t possibly—but—it is the only explanation he can think of, and it makes him feel full of light.

The wind whips his tee shirt against his chest and stomach. A long way off, a figure in white rises from the tangle of shorter buildings. It turns toward him—pauses—lifts its arms at an angle, palms out. Throws its arms around like the hands of a clock.

"U OK," Metro Man sends in palm-semaphore.

Megamind lifts his own arms into the signal for the letter Y, then drops them. Metro Man flits away without further interaction. Sometimes he doesn’t suck completely.

Megamind sighs, and drops his shoulders. He’s running behind on his next plot because he pivoted to something new so recently, but he is excited to see what Roxanne thinks of it. It’s been a long time since he’s used a proper force field this way, and the miniature chips and energy crystals he’s working on for Roxanne’s hairpiece and sash got it into his head. Something fiddly-small and annoying for Metro Man to chew on. A personal displacer. Let’s see him leap to the rescue with his strength failing, ha!

He turns his gaze briefly towards Roxanne’s building. She’s probably asleep by now. Hopefully feeling a little better than she was earlier—Megamind really had not been sure what to do for her; he knows when she’s in a mood, and that was a bad one. A strangling vine of a mood. But he did his best and he seems to have succeeded; she was in much better spirits when he left than when he arrived.

His heart thumps in his chest and his lips tug into a small smile. He is so lucky. To know her at all, let alone do this with her now. Plan things. Travel. Attempt to demonstrate care, in his clumsy way. He is pretty sure they’re friends now, not just friendly colleagues, which is more than he ever dared hope for. Exciting times, he thinks, and he’s still smiling when he lands at Evil Lair to carry on with his work.

Chapter Text

When Minion arrives back at Roxanne's the following week with a few new fabric samples and no Megamind, he finds Roxanne writing longhand in a notebook, crosslegged on her sofa with her elbows in front of her knees and two deep lines between her eyebrows, her laptop open on the cushion in front of the book.

He steels himself and then taps lightly on the glass.

This is the first time he has come to Roxanne's house under his own steam, alone, with no plans for a kidnapping. He knows Megamind sometimes comes here, although the two of them haven't talked about it, but Minion…has not felt the need. Or—he rarely feels the need, and he's generally able to scratch that itch when Roxanne chats with him on Plot Days, so he doesn't need to come over. Besides, what would he do if he did? Roxanne isn't his Bonded, isn't his mindtwin; she doesn't need him. She doesn't cook, doesn't sew. As far as he knows, they share no hobbies. He just…

She looks up from her notebook and sees him, and her tired, worried face lights up. Minion feels his own face pull into an answering smile as he relaxes and waves at her.

It's a nice afternoon, and the flight over was pleasant. Minion is quite good at navigating the streets of Metro in the Invisible Car unless he spends too much time under the interchange of bridges and bypasses on the east side of town; he gets turned around if he can't see the sky. But flying is lovely, it's like swimming. Not reef swimming either, but proper abyssal swimming. It was a nice flight.

Even if he is nervous about one-on-one time.

Roxanne scrambles up off the sofa and comes to open the door. "Hey!" she greets him. "I was wondering when you'd be back! You know you don't have to knock, you can just come in."

He hums and steps inside. "Oh, I know. You said, already. I didn't…want to startle you? You seemed, um…upset?"

She shakes her head. "I was just looking at our stops on the way there and back, that's all." She trails along after him as he heads over to the rest of his supplies by her dining table. "We'll probably get there with time to spare? So I'm trying to find anything that seems interesting nearby. In case we want to do…stuff."

Stacking his new crate with the others he brought previously, Minion makes a sound of interest. "Ah, then you've decided where you're staying?"

Megamind had come home several nights prior bright-eyed and buzzing about possibilities. Apparently he and Roxanne had found several options for lodgings near water along their route, and because Megamind had no experience with any of this and Roxanne had all kinds of thoughts about various and sundry considerations, he had finally said, look, let's just pick a town or something and you can take it from there? and Roxanne had asked him a few more questions and then agreed.

Which…

Minion is not going to mention the absurd amount of trust Megamind is placing in her, to give her that kind of leeway. It would only freak Roxanne out, he knows. But for Megamind to not only agree to leave Metro City, for a week, with someone he has only just barely begun to refer to as a friend instead of a pawn and who definitely has cause to hate him on a deeply personal level…and to give her full control over his sleeping arrangements…

Well. It's significant, that's all. Minion is trying not to feel very hopeful about certain potential outcomes of this vacation. From what Megamind has said, it sounds as though Roxanne may have invited him in part because she enjoys his company, not just because she trusts him to keep her safe. She said it was because he was her only good option, but…

"Yeah," she says, "they seem like they'll be pretty good. The first one is kinda remote, but…eh. I think it'll be nice anyway."

"Why not just stay in the hotels? And rest?"

"It'd be easier," she admits, rubbing her eyes. She looks tired. "Maybe we will. I don't know."

He's quiet for a moment, but when she doesn't elaborate, he says, "But…why not? If they're nice, and it would be easier, then…"

It feels so strange, to be standing here with her like this, just talking. Roxanne drops her hands with a sigh and squints up at him, blinking as she says, "I don't know. I just…he mentioned never having left the city? And I keep thinkingAGH, ow, my eyes—sorry—"

She buries her face in her hands again and mumbles, before Minion can ask what happened, "I guess I was staring at my screen for too long, sorry. One sec."

"Are you okay? What's wrong? Is there dust?"

"No, just eye strain. Yours don't ever get dry?"

Baffled, he shakes his head. "If any part of me is dry then something is very wrong."

Roxanne snorts. "Oh—right. Yeah, so, if I stare at my computer too much, my eyes dry out. It just stings really bad, it'll pass." She starts to look at him, eyes red and shining—and then she flinches back down into her fingers with a wry laugh. "Ugh, nope! Sorry. Um, if you need me to stand someplace, I can do that, but you'll have to guide me, ha."

Minion frowns and tells her to wait, then bustles over to the sink. Eye strain is not a crying fit, but Roxanne's eyes just now did look similar to Sir's when he's in a mood. Maybe this will help. Tea towel from where it was hanging through the door of the refrigerator, ice, splash of water. Easy.

"Head up for me," he says, brusque, as he hurries back. "Head up, hands down, come on."

"Huh? What—oh!"

Minion plops the cold compress over her eyes and holds it there until she takes it. Which she does, almost immediately, that's nice. No squawking or hissing or protesting that she's FINE, MINION, she does not need or appreciate being made to feel anything less than wholly miserable.

The ice cubes shift as Roxanne wraps her fingers around the towel. "It will drip," Minion warns. "They aren't in a baggie."

"It's just water, that's fine. Oh wow, thanks." She sniffles, laughs again. "Wow, this is better! Usually I'd wait for it to just go away on its own, but…"

"But why let you suffer when I can help?" He pats her shoulder, returns her grin when she scooches the towel away from one eye and sends him a smile that's partly a grimace. "I am a minion," he says. "It's what I do."

"How does you guys' thing work?" she says, turning and gingerly leaning against her dining table. "I've always wondered."

"Well," he says, "he…plans. And I…make sure he has the room to do so."

"And you're happy with this?"

"Oh, very!" He bobs up and down in his dome. "It isn't as uneven as it looks. Sir has afforded me more autonomy than I really know what to do with sometimes—more than would have been the case at home."

"I mean, that's…good," Roxanne says, "but…you're okay, right? You're happy?"

"Of course; why wouldn't I be?"

She makes an uncertain sound. "I don't know. It still seems awfully one-sided. And…yeah, it's better than it could have been, but that doesn't mean it's good." She eases the compress away from her eyes, flinching a little when it drips on her face, and reaches to squeeze the side of his hand. "I just…I worry, sometimes."

"About me?" He has to laugh a little. He shakes his head. "Oh, don't worry about me! I'm fine. I have lots of time for my interests, too. And access to all our facilities for materials design! Which is always fun."

Her eyes seem better; she lowers the compress, blinks a few times, then exhales and nods and heads for her kitchen. "So, wait—then are you the one who does the fabrics?" she says over her shoulder. "I mean—I've seen the stuff he wears catch bullets in midair; is that you?" The ice cubes clatter into her sink, and she flips the water on and…oh, some of her makeup smeared onto the wet towel; she's rinsing it off.

"No, that's him," he says, watching her scrunch and twist the towel. "That's the spikes that catch projectiles. But his undersuit, his cape, the stuff we use to pad his leathers—those are mostly me. I do need his help with some of the finer points, but I can take new materials quite far on my own. Is that hand-embroidered? I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"Oh! Yeah, ha, I have a bunch from my great-grandma. If my mother knew I got makeup on one she'd have a conniption, but I think they're meant to be used. Don't worry about it. And that's really cool," she says, scrubbing the thin fabric against itself under the water. "Were you always the one doing his costumes?"

"Not the whole time. He…had help, when we were just starting out," Minion says. "It gave me a chance to do some work on my own. To get ready for when he, ah, went solo. But, but I was pen pals for a while with Edna Mode," he adds, letting a bit of pride show through. "When I was a kid. I wrote to her to ask for her thoughts on potential viability of ferrolattice-textile integration, because it seemed like the next logical step after the hyperflexible mineral interweaves she outlined in Metasynthetic Musings. And she wrote back! And she sent me a copy of one of her earlier out-of-print works, which I had been trying to find."

"You—wait, I'm sorry," Roxanne turns the water off and half-turns to stare at him, holding the towel dripping in the sink, "Edna—THE Edna Mode? Pen pals?"

He nods. "We swapped letters for a few years. And Christmas cards."

"Oh? My god? Minion!"

"What?"

She shrugs, flops her arms. Gapes at him for a moment before turning back and wringing out the dishtowel. She doesn't seem upset, but he isn't sure what the face she was just making at him means. Incredulity? Incredulity tends to look more scornful than that did.

"I—nothing, I guess," she exclaims, "just—she's a legend, oh my goodness! Christmas cards?"

"Well I know that now," he protests, fins fluttering nervously. "All I knew at the time was she wrote a book I was interested in and I had some ideas and she had a post office box. So I sent a letter."

"How old were you?"

"Eleven, maybe…? Thir…teeeeeen…?"

"Holy smokes," she says, grinning. She hangs the wet towel over the arch of her kitchen faucet. "Minion, I am impressed. Good lord, she must have been…what, in her eighties?"

"I think so. Her estate actually sent me some things when she passed," he says, turning away to start unpacking the new box he brought with him. Roxanne wanders back over to him, patting her hands dry on her shorts. "Old boxes of fabric, some equipment. Sir was able to piggyback some really wonderful advances in textile extrusion for me based on some of her more experimental prototypes. I wish they could have met."

"I wish you could have met!"

"Eh." He wiggles a hand. "Meeting humans rarely goes well for me. Now, I wanted to get your take on some of these." He turns to the table before Roxanne can reply and lays out his swatches. "I know you said you wanted the lightning bolts for his cape lining, and I will absolutely make you a dress of that, if you want me to! But in terms of the physical material, I'm not sure it's going to suit our plans. So I had some ideas…"

"Meeting me went okay," she says, bumping his elbow with hers as she leans down to blink at the folded squares of fabric he's laid out on her table.

"Yes, well, you're special. Thoughts?"

"Oh these are very different from the cape material," she says, peering at them. "Can I touch?"

At his nod, she picks up the swatch furthest from her, an ultramarine-indigo ombre with subtle lightning bolts woven in, and she—hesitates—then holds it against a nearer swatch of smooth, single-hue fabric, closer to sky-colored.

"The thing about his usual cape lining," Minion says, handing her a scrap of it he pulled from his rag bag earlier, "is that it is very thin. Very fluttery. And the silhouette we're going for is…neither of those things."

"More nineteen-fifties A-line," Roxanne says. She's gazing down at the swatches, sort of absently rubbing the cape material between her fingers.

"Yes. If we were planning on draping you artfully over the top of a grand piano for some kind of song number, well, for that it would be perfect, but for this…no. And it isn't something I can just print-stamp onto a different type of material, either, I'm afraid. I've been trying all last week to get it to adhere, but…it's a very particular weave. It binds to his cape fabric almost exclusively." He turns and starts pulling out additional supplies. The patterns he was blocking the previous week, a bolt of muslin. Pins, pens, rulers, scissors. "Now, if you really, truly want to wear something that looks like that," nodding at the scrap she's holding, laying his tool bin out on the table, "then I will figure it out. I will. But we are working with a deadline, so if that's what you want, please let me know so I can get back to work. "

"Oh goodness no, that's okay," she assures him. She pats his arm. "I don't have my heart set on the cape lining! Although I wouldn't say no to some kind of retro evening gown made out of the stuff, ha ha. It's so soft."

She is very clearly joking, by her tone, but Minion grins anyway. "Noted! Then, that makes this a little bit easier! The sky blue is something I'm quite excited about, it's a new compound I've been refining. Azafullerenes are wildly underexplored, but a nanotube lattice of sufficient thickness can take shocks of enormous force and not only hold fast, but distribute the impact across both its surface and through its interior. I've had an awful time figuring out how to get them to take dye. Stress yes, but dye? They just fall apart! Until I tried pulling them into truncated icosahedrons, instead of the simpler dodecahedrons I was trying to start out with."

"Um. So…wait, so, fullerene—that's his undersuits, right?"

"Mm, that's polyethylfullerene," he says, "and trust me when I say it is far too elastic for our purposes, no matter how it's woven. Although I…suppose I could try gel-spinning it into something more monodirectional, but…"

"You are a wizard with this stuff," Roxanne says. "Minion, you are magic. Do you really think all this is going to be necessary?"

"Oh, no," he says, "but if I don't do it, I will worry the whole time you are away. You like the sky blue, then?"

She nods. "I do. Could we…maybe, make most of the dress out of this, but then the…backs…? Of the box pleats…?"

"Do the underlay in the ombre? I think that would look lovely."

Roxanne nods. "Yeah. Yeah! Okay, cool. I was…yeah, kind of wondering, earlier, if the cape lining would be too busy. It's got kind of an iridescence going on, I do want lightning bolts but I don't know if I want to be that eye-catching. What's he going to be wearing?"

"Oh, you'll see," he says with a wink. "Sir is a peacock but this is not his wedding; it will at least be suit-adjacent."

She grins. "Can't wait. Do you need me to do anything, for now?"

He nods. "I need to check some measurements. Would you…ah. Is there perhaps a bathing suit or some exceptionally thin…garments? You could…?"

"I guess it is kind of going on my bare body, huh," she says, rueful. "Yeah, I think I've got something…"

At home later that evening—well, very early the following morning—as Minion is checking his polymers for contact toxicity and consistent grainline in the woven material at four days' post-weave, he thinks…hmmm, he could still use the cape fabric as a lining. It might not add anything to the carbon-azafullerene's defensive properties, but it certainly wouldn't hurt. And he doesn't know for sure that it wouldn't add something. His new fabric is quite exciting as lightweight, breathable armor, but Megamind's cape material is already tried and tested; it is reliably heat- and acid-resistant, as well as very nearly impact-proof. It won't protect against broken bones or bruising, the way Minion is hoping this newest compound will, but…he trusts it.

Then again, it's designed to bind to the outer layer of Megamind's cape. He frowns.

But…well, they are separate layers, so…if he orients the azafullerene's nonbonded carbon orbital neighboring the nitrogen towards the cape fabric as a substrate…that would…

He frowns harder. Well then that would create an intermediate high-spin-density phase in the second layer, yes? It would create uncoupled azafullerene monomers with pronounced radical character there, yes? And then the compounds should stabilize each other even further. As long as he doesn't put them in some kind of vacuum, they should bind into a sort of feedback loop of radical state stabilization.

…Right?

That would…that sounds like it should work…unless ultra-stabilization would be bad in this case. Minion really cannot fathom how it could possibly be bad, in this sort of application.

He sighs, nods to himself. He'll have Megamind check it later, just to be sure. The more he thinks about it—tink-tink-tapping the end of his pencil on the side of his glass as he considers the various possibilities—the more certain he is that this is a good idea.

He could also simply bind one layer or the other to some kind of underlining. Adding yet another layer to a dress headed to Nevada is perhaps not the wisest choice, but the carbon-azafullerene is displaying some interesting properties in terms of specific heat capacity. And it'll be October. Very early October, granted, but it might be okay.

Simply for added stability, of course, either way! Not for any kind of sentimental reason! That would be silly. DEFINITELY not because he's worried, ha. That would be even sillier. The deflector field nodes Megamind is building for Roxanne's hair and waist will more than take care of any projectiles. Roxanne will be fine.

But. There will be. So many other villains in attendance, very few of whom share his and Megamind's beliefs on personal standards and collateral damage.

So…

So he'll do some test swatches of that tonight, and keep an eye on whether any of them degrade over the next week or so while Megamind runs the numbers and stress-tests the larger swatch. It can't hurt.

Days pass. Roxanne spends them as she always does: working, reading, watering her plants. Occasionally volunteering at a cat rescue a few blocks away, occasionally going to the gym. Doing the dishes. With the vast majority of her travel plans taken care of, she's finally able to put the trip on her mental back burner for a while, which is nice.

(There is a fun Saturday morning she spends on the phone with her older brother, to whom she had previously mentioned the wedding invitation, and who had previously expressed concerns about her attending.

"It's taken care of," she tells him, grinning. "Seriously, I'll be fine. I hired a bodyguard."

"Bullshit. A bodyguard? You HIRED a BODYGUARD."

"Yes!"

"Who on earth is going with you to a wedding full of villains?" he exclaims. "Where did you find them? Can you trust them? Like, what, were they on Craigslist? 'Hi, contact me if you're going to surround yourself with probably a hundred trigger-happy variously traumatized metahumans and mad scientists for a high-emotion event in Las Vegas, I charge five hundred dollars an hour'?"

"Oh, I'm not paying him," she laughs. "It's the other way around."

"…What."

"He's doing it for me 'as payment for services rendered,' he said. And Minion is making me a fancy dress!"

"YOU ARE GOING TO LAS VEGAS WITH MEGAMIND."

"I'm going to Mount Charleston with Megamind, yes. I'm really not sure if we'll hit the Strip—"

"OH MY GOD HOW DARE YOU, and I need pictures of him in a suit, PLEASE send me pictures of Megamind in a suit—"

It's a fun conversation. Roxanne comes away from it feeling extremely smug.)

One evening a while after that, she's finished the dishes and is curled up in the corner of her sofa with a book and glass of wine when a rumbling hum rises outside her windows and arranges itself on her balcony. She has to blink a little bit—it's past nine o'clock. Megamind rarely comes over this late.

Her long curtains rustle as he pushes them out of the way and stumbles inside. His brows are low, his lips are thin. Roxanne cocks her head and tweaks her eyebrows at him in a silent question, but Megamind just stomps towards her and throws himself facedown onto her sofa with a groan.

"Boots," Roxanne says, and Megamind groans again and hauls himself upright to get them off. He goes at the fastenings with short, sharp movements while Roxanne watches. "Everything okay?"

"Headache," he says flatly. "And my new line of brainbots is not cooperating at all in its dev creche, and the electrical on my new battle droid keeps shorting out and I can't figure out why and I'm going to need to pull everything out and start over, and I haven't seen you in two weeks, and I tried to nap earlier but I rolled on my side and had horrible dreams and now everything is terrible. Are we friends?"

Roxanne recoils a little bit, startled. "I…kind of assumed we were, yeah," she says.

"Oh thank evil," he sighs, "I wondered," and he twists around and flops back down onto his stomach with his face in the cushion. "Minion's work on your dresses seems to be going well, at least," he mumbles. "How nice for him. And you."

"Can I get you anything for your head?" Roxanne asks, vaguely wondering, dresses? Plural? She must have misheard. "Motrin? Tylenol? Aspirin?"

"Human painkillers don't do much for me."

"Ah. Well," she says as she tucks her bookmark into place and stands up, "I can turn off the lights, at least. Even if it doesn't help, it can't hurt. One sec."

She leaves the one she was reading by, but she damps all the overhead lights, as well as the ones in her kitchen. When she gets back, Megamind turns his head just enough that he isn't speaking directly into the sofa. "Why are you so nice to me."

"Because we're friends, you silly thing," she says, sitting back down. "And it's not like I was using them. I really should have had them off to begin with."

He hums.

Roxanne reads a few more pages of her book, just to finish out the chapter. Megamind doesn't move. Or speak. He just…lies on her sofa, sans cape and gloves, with one hand curled in front of his mouth and the other pinned under his stomach and his eyes half-lidded. Blinking every so often. Breathing.

"I wondered where you were," Roxanne says, when she finishes her chapter and closes her book. "The last plot with those little gravitational displacers was really nifty, but…you've been quiet for a while."

He heaves an absolutely enormous sigh. Entirely too much air for his skinny little body. "I had a good idea," he says. "Or…a bad idea, wickedly bad idea. Good idea for bad-doings. But."

"The electrical?"

"I don't understand," he laments. "It's just wiring! It isn't rocket science!"

"Might be easier if it was," she says. "You're good at rocket science."

"I'm good at electricity too, usually!" He flicks his fingers and twitches a shrug, then gusts another sigh. "I don't understand," he says again, more quietly.

A sympathetic pang goes through Roxanne. He sounds so wrung-out, poor thing. Plaintive, almost. Not whining, just…beaten. He'll bounce back, of course, she knows. He always does. Still, it's hard to see him like this, and she moves to stroke her hand over the back of his head without really thinking about it. But he startles badly, and she jumps with a small squeak.

"Oh! Sorry—"

"No, no, it's okay," he says, tipping his head back to look up at her as best he can from his awkward position for just a second, "it's fine. You can…I don't…mind."

He curls back down again. Carefully, Roxanne runs her palm over his skin a couple of times. She isn't really sure what else to do. But it does seem to make his spine relax a little, so.

"I'm just tired," Megamind says, when she moves her hand back to her lap.

"One of those feel-the-walls nights?"

He nods.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could help."

For some reason, that makes him puff a small laugh through his nose. "You do. You leave your door unlocked for me."

"Aw. Well, I'm glad." She pauses. "Have you eaten? Need a snack?"

"I ate before I came over."

Roxanne nods to herself. "I'm looking forward to this," she tells him. "Next month."

Megamind makes a sound in his throat.

"I'm sure I've said it already, but I really do hope you have fun," she says. "I know it's not…something you usually would do. But. The route we'll be taking is one my family used to drive a lot, for most of the way at least." She smiles a little. "I'm kind of excited to show it to you. …Should I stop talking?"

"No." He takes a breath. "You…mentioned your family has done road trips. Before."

"Yeah, so," she pulls her legs up under her and gets a little more comfortable, "when the spaceport went up here, Dad…got a…job at the Metro Spacefield? kind of? Mom wanted to stay in San Francisco. But, but they didn't want to get divorced, so we would travel back and forth a lot. Flying, usually, to visit Dad on the weekends when he wasn't visiting us. But that was during the school year. Every summer, we'd do it driving, all four of us, out to Metro in June and then back to California in August."

"Hm."

"I'm not super sure why, in retrospect," she continues. "Looking back…it wasn't like we were doing fun things along the way, usually. Mom and Dad would switch out drivers all day, and then most of the night too. Sometimes we'd get a hotel, or sleep in the car at rest stops, but usually they'd just…keep on driving.

"There was one time, though," she says, smiling as she remembers, "we stopped in Salt Lake City for two whole days. Got a hotel there and everything. We went to the natural history museum, and then Dad took me to a baseball game while Drew and Mom went to some botanical gardens where they were having some kind of big science expo…we swam in the lake…it was so much fun. Drew and I had no idea they were planning all that."

There's a pause, and then Megamind shifts and lifts himself up onto his elbows to fully look at her. "That was the only year you stopped?"

"Pretty much." She sighs. "It was one of the last years we all made the trip together, too. Drew was going off to college the following year, and then he had summer internships and jobs and stuff, so…"

She trails off, gazing into the middle distance at something from another time.

After a few seconds, she shakes her head a little. Exhales. "Anyway, I'm looking forward to this. It's been a while."

"I'm sure I'll have fun."

She looks down at him. His eyes catch the lamplight behind her and shine it back blue-green, like a cat's. From this angle she can see how heavy the shadows are, around them. Aw. He really must not be sleeping well.

"I'm sure I will," he says again. "You know what you're doing. You'll—make it good. Fun. You'll make it fun. I know you. You're fun."

Flattered, Roxanne feels her ears heat. "Oh. Thank you? I hope so. You should get away from the city for a while. And I really do think you'll like the places I've picked out for us to stay! They're…not really what you're used to, but…"

He shrugs. "I'm adaptable. And we did both pick the general locations; it isn't as though I'm going to be shocked." He lowers his head again, and accepts the decorative throw pillow Roxanne passes him.

And he hesitates, then pulls the knitted afghan off the back of her sofa and flops it over himself with a sigh before turning his face to the back of the sofa. He kicks at the blanket a bit before giving up and just letting his bony feet poke out.

After a moment, Roxanne picks her book back up. She's hyperaware of Megamind next to her, this supervillain sprawled out on her sofa breathing slowly, but…

She doesn't mind, she finds. Him being here so late, falling asleep here. What's he going to do? Steal something? Hurt her? She has nothing of use to him, and he would never. Besides, they're friends.

When she finally turns off the lamp and rises to go to bed, she does so as carefully as she can so she won't disturb him. But Megamind says—quiet and unmoving and definitely awake as she sets her book down on her coffee table—

"May I stay."

Startled, Roxanne pauses.

"…Yeah," she says. "Yeah, stay. I hope your head feels better."

He gusts another massive sigh and shifts a little, wedging himself closer against the back of the sofa. Roxanne flips the blanket down over his feet before she goes away to bed.

A couple days later, she comes home to an unexpected and very squashy package in her mailbox. Baffled, she takes it upstairs and opens it, and…

Oh wow that's a lot of slippery cloth.

She pulls it out and holds it up, blinking and trying to figure out which end is up and what she's looking at until she realizes…oh. It's a dress. Made of the cape fabric she had requested originally.

So that's what Megamind meant about dresses!

It's a gown, a slip dress. Very plain in terms of cut, but that's fine; the lightning-bolt pattern might be difficult to line up along a lot of seams. Minion could do it, she's sure, but honestly the fabric itself doesn't really seem to need much in the way of embellishments beyond the tiny seed beads picking out the edges of the lightning bolts. Usually Roxanne is of the opinion that slip dresses aren't terribly flattering on her—either they fit well in the bust but cling to her hips, or the skirts fit fine but everything from the waist up is baggy and falling off her shoulders. But this one was made for her, and her eyebrows disappear under her hair at the way it drapes and moves around her.

"Holy shit," she mutters, smoothing her hands over her stomach and then her thighs, turning this way and that in the full-length mirror in the corner of her room, "oh my god."

It's backless, too. The neckline has a little bit of extra material that took her a few seconds to sort out while she was putting it on—she couldn't find any seams—but it falls attractively over the tops of her breasts and gathers between silver clasps at her shoulders to pour down her back to her waist. And it doesn't feel like it's about to fall off. What the hell, how on earth. Minion continues to be a wizard.

New favorite dress? New favorite dress! The only downside is she can't wear it anywhere! People will see her and get entirely the wrong idea and it isn't fair! Minion made her this beautiful thing and she can't even wear it?

Maybe for Halloween somehow? Or out of town someday, at some occasion or other where no one will realize what exactly it is that she's wearing?

But it's the beads that really get to her. He could have just thrown the fabric together and called it good, but he took the time to finish it with a lot of tiny beadwork and it's so beautiful and Roxanne can't show anybody except, maybe, her brother. She—

A tap on her balcony glass downstairs. "Yoo-hoo," Minion sings, and Roxanne turns without thinking and dashes downstairs in her bare feet.

"You!" she exclaims, laughing as she bounds over to him. "You are amazing, Minion, thank you!"

"It fits!" he exclaims, clapping. "I hoped it would!"

Roxanne spins on her toes. "The beads!"

"I thought you might like those! Oh, you wear it so well! Is it too long?"

"Not with shoes it won't be." She settles onto her heels, still beaming. "I really was just kidding about the gown, you didn't have to do all this for me!"

"I know you were," he laughs, "but you got me thinking. And I wanted to see how it would look! Sir, see!"

Startled, Roxanne turns as her balcony door opens again and Megamind steps inside. "And what am I meant to be seeing this time," he sighs as he closes the door behind him, then turns, "what have you…"

He trails off.

Megamind's mouth is open for nearly a full second before he shakes himself and recovers. "…Ah! Stunning as always, Miss Ritchi," he says, with a sly smile and an arched brow. "Although, if I may…?" Up goes his other eyebrow as he works at his insignia at the top of his chest, and at Roxanne's nod, he skips over to her and twirls his whole shoulder array up off of his shoulders and down onto hers.

"Aha," he says, stepping back and looking her up and down, and then, "nope," darting forward to disconnect the cape—and—oh, reaching to put it back on backwards? So that the black is facing inward? Roxanne blinks down at herself, then at Megamind's flashing hands moving things around and tugging things into place and reaching up to straighten his mantle on her shoulders.

"There," he says, finally. He steps back. "Yes. The black backdrop is perfect. Minion! Look! Now all she needs is the gloves."

"Wow, this has a really good balance to it," Roxanne says, lifting a hand to his mantle with all its spikes. "I wondered how it always stays so steady on you with all your bouncing around."

"It's got weights in the edge of the mantle," he tells her. He seems to be in much better spirits than the last time he was over. "Also, a safety harness under my leathers, but the balance is solid even without that."

"It feels very cool," she replies, honestly. "Mind if I run back upstairs with it? I want to see! And I should probably also change into something better for dress-fittings," she adds, because Minion has just laid a couple whole bolts of fabric on her dining table and is holding up a muslin.

Megamind shoos her towards the stairs, his mouth still in his crescent-moon smile, and Roxanne grins back and hikes up her skirt to hurry away.

She looks amazing.

Megamind was right—turning his cape around so the ink-black flutters behind the iridescence of her dress sets the colors off beautifully. His mantle and high collar don't quite match, don't quite go with the aesthetic of the dress, but the cape definitely does, and the rest is just too cool to take off right away. Roxanne takes a moment to move her shoulders, to turn and bend. To preen.

Best outfit ever. She isn't going to ask for a high collar of her own, because oh my god that would be too much, but she wants one.

She admires herself for a few more moments, takes a couple selfies and mirror pictures for posterity and to make Drew angry, and gets changed. When she comes back downstairs in her silk bathrobe with Megamind's mantle and high collar on her shoulders and his cape gathered up and draped artfully over one arm, he glances up from his place on her couch and snorts into startled laughter.

Roxanne's new dress is amazing and her in-progress dress also looks like it's going to be amazing, and Megamind is ordering food (talking over his shoulder without turning around because Roxanne's clothes are Not So Much Actually right now) and then he's working on some kind of double-keyboard laptop thing on her coffee table with his long hands just flying. And the light is pouring in through Roxanne's tall windows as the sun sets, and Minion is humming and joking with her, and Roxanne is laughing and teasing back and forth with Megamind, and it's a lovely evening.

When Minion's work is put away and dinner is over, Megamind stands up. "All right," he says. "I've brought your belt and the piece for your hair—I'd like to test them out, before we leave."

"Sir, I don't know if—"

"They need to be tested," he says. He looks at Roxanne, still in her robe and bare feet. "It will be dangerous, though."

"Oh, like we've never done dangerous before," she says, standing as well and stretching. "I don't mind. What do you need me to do?"

"Put this on," he says. He passes her a narrow belt made of…something, probably leather, wrapped tightly in the same fabric Minion will be making her dress out of and studded at even intervals with squat silvery spikes. It takes Roxanne a moment to figure out how the clasp goes, but…

"Okay," she says, clasping it in front of her and then spinning it so the connection is tucked away behind her. "And…oh! Oh that's pretty!"

It's a little more than she was expecting. The fascinator isn't absurdly ostentatious in comparison to some she's seen, but it is affixed to a wide hairband, again in the same blue color as her dress, studded to match her belt. It features a couple of black feathers, some silver-blue ones, a ripple of silvery tulle—"I can use something else, if you need me to," Megamind says about this, but since it won't be anywhere near her skin Roxanne doesn't mind it—and a ring of spikes only a centimeter or so high, surrounding a cabochon of something that hurts to look at.

"It'll have a cover," Megamind says, when Roxanne squints at it. "I'll wrap it in the same tulle, or put a silk flower over it or something. That's the power cell."

"Ah," she says. "Okay. And…like this?"

"Wherever it sits most comfortably for you, yes," he says. "Now, turn for me—I need it to link to the belt's clasp. There."

A fizzy sensation tickles down over the whole of Roxanne's skin, then immediately crackles away into nothing. "Oh!"

He pauses. "You felt something?"

"Yeah, it kind of tingled."

His brows go up. "Huh! I wasn't expecting that, but we know they're connected. And Minion is—ah, fantastic."

Minion has just come back inside from where he had stepped out briefly to fetch what appears to be an old…door? A heavy wooden one, painted a weird shade of fuschia, its knob and hinges long gone. Very splintered and battered-looking. Whole chunks of wood are missing.

He brings this in, clanking across Roxanne's living room, then leans it up against the door out into her building's hallway.

"Miss Ritchi? If you don't mind?"

"Okay," she says, mystified, and moves to stand in front of it.

"Your hairpiece and waistband are designed to catch and repel projectiles moving above a certain speed," Megamind says, backing away from her as he unstraps something from his leg. Throwing knives. "If I may?"

"Do you need me to put my arms out?"

"No, leave them down. And close your eyes."

"I can keep them open," she says, but Megamind shakes his head.

"Close them," he says, firm. "These will be VERY close to you and I cannot have you flinching," and ah, okay, that is probably a fair point.

Roxanne closes her eyes.

"You are going to hear a loud sound," Megamind says. "Deep breath in—good—and out for me—"

CRACK.

Roxanne jumps. Her whole left side just tingled violently. Not terribly unpleasantly, nothing like an electric shock, but the same prickling crackle in her pores as before just seared out in a ripple across her body.

"I didn't hear it hit the door," she says.

"No, you didn't," Megamind agrees, "because I caught it. Again. Going to be closer. Deep breath in—yes—"

CRACK.

That one gets a yelp out of her. It was the same side, starting in the same place, but it prickled so hard she nearly stumbled.

"Not going to hit you," Megamind says. "I'm very good."

"I know, I know, just—is it supposed to feel like getting dipped in television static? When it catches?"

A pause. She opens her eyes.

"No," Megamind says, frowning at her, "it isn't. Let me try something."

He trots forward and Roxanne gives him the hairband, and he flips it over and opens it up and wow hey that's a LOT of very weird-looking circuitry and fluttery lights.

"Hmmm…if I…maybe it…ah. Ah! Here! Yes!" He plucks one of the feathers free, uses a miniscule tool hidden in the shaft to make a miniscule adjustment somewhere, then stabs the feather back into place and folds the cover back down. "One more try," he says as Roxanne puts it back on her head. "Aaand connect the belt…did it do anything that time?"

She shakes her head.

"Good. Well, hopefully good. Either I fixed it, or it hasn't connected. Let's find out!"

Roxanne snorts and resumes her position in front of the door, and closes her eyes again.

"You're being a phenomeenally good sport about this," Megamind says, sounding both admiring and amused. "You've got a supervillain winging knives at you as hard as he can and you look utterly unperturbed."

Roxanne snorts. "Please. It's you."

"Oh, suddenly I'm not a threat."

"Sure, suddenly."

"And now you're antagonizing me! I am holding a knife!"

"You're holding three knives."

"I'm—I really very don't like you," he complains, and Roxanne laughs. "Now hold still."

"Yeah, yeah. Can you teach me how to throw knives? After this?"

A sort of startled-sounding silence from Megamind's direction, and then he says, "Oh! Yes? Yes, I can do that. Certainly I can do that. One moment, and—eyes CLOSED, Miss Ritchi, please—"

"Aw, he's begging," she teases, but she closes her eyes.

Whatever the problem was before does appear to be fixed. The CRACK! is much less pronounced and there's no awful tingling sensation this time. She can't even tell where the knife hits her force field or whatever it is, there's just the sound of catch.

"Excellent," Megamind says, and she opens her eyes. "Fabulous, fantastic. Good! And—"

"Is there really no way I can see what it looks like?" she asks, hopeful. "I won't flinch, I know it's fine."

Megamind squints at her for a moment—

—then rolls his eyes. He glances at Minion, jerks his head at Roxanne.

Minion nods and moves to stand behind her. "Sorry, Miss Ritchi," he says, and he wraps his metal hands around her upper arms and her elbows to pin her arms at her sides, and there's a clink as his grip locks and—he pulls her back against him.

"All right, eyes open, then, I suppose," Megamind says, sounding very dry and put-upon as Roxanne blinks at him in surprise at all this. "Keep them on me. You are going to want to look at the knife. Eyes on me, do you understand?"

She nods.

"It's okay if you can't," Minion says.

"No, no, I can do it," Roxanne insists, and she isn't sure why that makes Megamind's brows go up and his expression shift to one of extreme doubt for a moment.

"We'll see," he says. "Coming two inches from your left shoulder. Ready."

"Ready!"

And—

She means to keep her eyes on him. She really, really does. She locks gazes with him, and she exhales and steadies herself and she swears she isn't going to move or look away, but—Megamind rears his arm back and lifts up on his toes and then snaps himself down and forward and whips the knife at her in a blur of metal, and Roxanne's eyes flick to it and she—jerks but Minion holds her steady—there's the usual CRACK and a flash of blue-white like lightning. The knife snaps backward as though slapped away by the hand of God—

Slender blue fingers pluck it easily out of the air. Megamind doesn't even blink.

"—Don't feel bad," he says, before Roxanne can think of what to say over her unexpected rush of adrenaline and her pounding heart. "That flinch response is a bear to train out of."

"It took him years," Minion agrees. He releases her and steps back. "Are you okay? I didn't pinch, did I? I know sometimes the joints in my hands can—"

"What? No, you were perfect, just…" She turns back to Megamind, incredulous. "I'm sorry, someone threw knives at you until you stopped flinching?"

Megamind cocks his head. "Of course! Why do you think the door behind you is such a mess?"

"The—oh my god, who?" She looks from him to Minion, glancing up just in time to see Minion's expression go just a little bit sour. Okay, so not Minion, then. But—

"Oh ho ho that is a story for another time," Megamind says with a laugh. "And in his defense, I was also throwing knives at him. But! Suffice to say, walking before running, throwing before catching. Come here! Come over here, I'll show you how to stand."

Chapter Text

"And you’re sure there’s nothing I need to do to keep it safe, or de-wrinkle it, or anything," Roxanne says as Minion zips the finished dress into its garment bag, several weeks later. "It feels like it shouldn’t wrinkle, but…"

"Just keep it hanging up until you’re ready for it," he says. "There’s hooks for your formalwear in the back of the airship; Sir installed them this morning."

He hands her the garment bag. "No worries about leaving it in the airship to warm up, though," he says, and Roxanne laughs.

The fabric he designed is cool to the touch and will probably remain so, which Minion still isn’t pleased with but Roxanne is ecstatic about. "What do you mean, ‘it’s probably going to stay this temperature’?" she asked when he showed it to her, despairing, and asked if it was still okay to use. "Are you serious? Even if I wear it in the sun?"

"It might get a couple degrees warmer," he said, mournful and wringing his hands, "but you would need to leave it in the sun for hours for it to come up to your body temperature. You’d be better off baking it in the oven, frankly. I am so sorry, I don’t know how to make it stop."

"This is the most amazing thing I have ever heard," Roxanne had declared. "I need a pillowcase made of this stuff right now."

"You—would you not be cold and miserable?"

"I’m too hot when I sleep pretty much always," she said. "If you can fix that, I will owe you so much cake."

For now, she hangs the garment bag on the back of one of the chairs at her kitchen island, then turns and says, "I’m going to hug you, now. I still can’t believe you made me a dress and shoes and hair jewelry."

"The hair bit was Sir’s, technically," he says, but he’s already stooping to let her wrap her arms around his dome. "A-actually, I—wanted—to thank you, as well," patting her before she withdraws, "for letting me. And for asking Sir along with you. This is…I have a…bad feeling."

Roxanne blinks up at him. "A bad feeling?"

"I already mentioned there will be drama," Minion says. "Exactly how much drama remains to be seen, but…at an event like this…"

He trails off.

Roxanne waits.

Finally he says, "I will be very surprised if no one goes home in a body bag."

She recoils.

"Thank you for trusting us to ensure it isn’t you."

Her first thought is oh, my goodness, don’t worry, we’ll be fine, but…

Well. Hasn’t she already thought something along these lines? Several times, even. Minion’s right: it literally is the whole reason she’s bringing Megamind instead of anyone else.

Slowly, she says, "I really can’t think of anyone I’d trust more. I’m just grateful you guys both stepped up—I knew you put a lot of thought into your designs, obviously, but I had no idea you put so much work into the materials themselves. It means a lot, having this with me." She hefts the garment bag. "And the boots. I feel a lot safer now than I did a few months ago when I thought I’d be by myself."

"You aren’t safe," Minion says with a sound like a sigh and a nod, putting his hand on her shoulder, "but you’re as safe as we can make you. That will have to do."

"I’m sure it’ll do just fine," Roxanne says, smiling up at him and reaching up to pat the backs of his fingers.

Packing is terrible. But packing is always terrible. Roxanne gets her things together as much as possible the night before they leave: tops, bottoms, underthings, socks. Shoes. Makeup, toothbrush, toothpaste, various other toiletries. More shoes, just in case.

…Is she going to need hiking boots?

RR: are you planning on hiking at all

Okay, what else…? Laptop, probably. Oh! Phone charger!

Her spare phone charger is plugged in on her kitchen counter, next to the refrigerator. She hurries down the stairs to retrieve it, then spends a sort of shameful ten minutes or so going through her refrigerator and throwing away leftovers. Nothing like the threat of a week out of town to throw into sharp relief all the things she’s let pile up in her fridge, but the last thing she wants is to come home to a Smell.

Speaking of which, she also has dishes in her sink that will absolutely result in a Smell if she leaves them for a week. Possibly even Two Smells, both of them bad.

So, she does the dishes as well. And then she goes back upstairs with her phone charger, and discovers no magical unexpected Packing Fairies have appeared during her absence and she is still not done packing, and the world is cruel and unfeeling.

But she does have a text from Megamind.

MM: No. Should I be?
RR: I honestly have no idea. I’m just trying to figure out if I should bring my hiking boots
MM: Do you want to hike?
RR: do YOU want to hike
MM: I asked you first

Roxanne chews on her lip for a moment, absently bumping her knee against the side of her bed. Does she want to hike…?

RR: is there limited room in the airship we’re taking?
MM: It is an airship; there is not UNlimited room :P But based on the picture of your suitcase you sent yesterday, we should have room for an extra pair of shoes.
RR: they’re kinda big
RR: will you have hiking shoes?
MM: I will have shoes in which I can walk long distances. I am not opposed to the concept of this ‘hiking.’

They’re old boots. Very clunky, and dirty, and probably not something Megamind is going to want in whatever craft he’s bringing with them. But—

Her phone buzzes. She glances down.

MM: Bring the boots.

She exhales, relieved.

RR: are you sure?
MM: Yes. Bring the boots. Why not?
RR: they’re dirty
MM: So we will leave them on the floor, which is where shoes live anyway! Bring them.
RR: OK :)
RR: thanks
MM: another for my bongo card!!!
MM: At this rate, I will win THIS VERY DAY!!!
RR: it’s not a game lol
MM: Shows what you know :P

Roxanne is already laughing when the last text arrives and she has to roll her eyes and put her phone back down. He’s not wrong, the floor is where shoes live, and probably it’s not the end of the world if she brings something and ends up not using it. It’s probably fine. Megamind doesn’t really seem like the type to make fun of her for that, at least not in any mean-spirited way. So…fine, she’ll bring them. Why not.

Loading everything into the ship the next morning, Megamind picks up Roxanne’s boots by their laces. "These are not big," he says, scathing. Holding them up at eye level and wrinkling his blue face at them. "This is not even a platform sole, why were you worried. Also, why are the laces knotted together?"

Roxanne shrugs. "Makes them easier to carry."

"Hm." He looks doubtful but doesn’t argue or question her further, just sets the boots on the floor by the door of the cargo hatch and closes everything up.

The airship is a nifty little thing, all shining steel and oddly sleek—it's covered in nasty jagged fins and spikes, but the ship itself is smooth, with a sort of bullet-shaped teardrop fuselage that narrows on the sides into a pair of curved, downsloped wings almost like a skate’s, but with the tips aimed backwards. Crackling blue energy gathers in the tips of the wings and in a chamber at the aft end of the fuselage, and shimmers on the perimeter of the wings and in a line around the ship's body. It rests on little feet under its sparkling wingtips, with a curved strut that looks like it probably folds up under the nose as its third support.

"It’s very you," Roxanne said earlier, having followed Megamind as he bounced cheerfully up the maintenance staircase to the roof of her building. He had skipped over to the arched frame resting on the rooftop with wings curved down on either side, and spun around with an enormous smile and his arms out to show her. "It’s very you, I love it."

Now, as Roxanne climbs gingerly up after him to the hatch above the wing—spikes as handholds and footholds, how novel—and slides down into the body of the ship, she says, "I’ve been meaning to ask…why do you have this?"

"Why not?" he exclaims from where he’s strapping himself into a large squishy chair in the cockpit. "It is a big city, Miss Ritchi; one does not always have the time to drive!"

"The hoverbike exists."

"Mm. The hoverbike is unpleasant in rainy weather." He’s flicking switches overhead and in front of him, turning knobs, pushing buttons. Around them, the little craft hums and shudders. "Also, steers like a cow at high speeds. I have a nose-down brake-pivot maneuver I can use to cut an angle, but it always feels like it's going to throw me off. The airship is bigger but it has better maneuverability." He glances over at her. "Plus it’s faster!"

Roxanne buckles herself into her chair, breathing deeply and trying to calm her nerves. It’s about an hour later than she imagined they would be leaving, but…that’s fine? hopefully? It seems fine. Megamind seems fine. But.

We’ll get there when we get there, she tells herself again, firm. It’ll be okay. You'll feel better as soon as we're moving.

This isn’t the first time she’s gone somewhere with someone with a ‘get there whenever’ plan. But it is the first time she’s done so with anyone who honestly seems so nonplussed about the whole thing, and her first time without having planned where to stop for lunch.

But maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe they’ll find something on the way? And Minion certainly has taken care of them in terms of snacks. They have a box tucked away behind Megamind’s pilot's chair stacked with boxes and bags. Some of the stuff looks homemade, others are clearly store bought.

Roxanne pulls a box at random and looks at it. "Soan papdi," she reads. "What is this?"

"It’s a sort of cardamom…cake?" He shakes his head. "Cake isn’t really the right word. I’ll show you later."

She shrugs and replaces the box, then turns to face forward in her chair again and strap herself in as the humming of the engine picks up.

Deep breath. Let it out.

Around her, the interior of the little ship is fairly bare-bones. The seats are quite comfortable, at least—the passenger’s especially; it was made for Minion, and Roxanne could curl up in it like a nest if she wasn’t strapped in—but there’s no padding or anything between her arm and the metal of the ship’s interior wall, just rivets and seams, and an access panel for maintenance work on whatever science-fiction power or material is happening between the wall and the exterior of the ship’s hull.

She looks over at her pilot. Megamind. Feet on the floor’s control plates, hands on a pair of steering rods, eyes flick-flicking around at the various sensors and indicators packed across the pilot’s side of the dashboard. He glances up at something on the ceiling, reaches up with one hand—the craft is shaking and rattling as it rises off the roof—he flicks a couple of switches, then returns his hand to its control rod and—does something. The shaking subsides, the rattling stops, his lips tug sideways in a little smile.

Roxanne has to smile a little bit, too, as she swallows and peers at her own, much more limited, sensory array. Megamind has told her she won’t have to worry about anything on her side, but there isn’t a whole lot else to look at. The little craft’s windshield is disappointingly small, and set high on the front of the ship’s rounded nose. In the city like this, Roxanne can still look around at the tall buildings as they fly past, but once they’re out of the city…

Well, it’ll be okay. Mostly right now she’s just amused at how serious he is, all of a sudden. She’s known he has a quiet side for years, of course, but she usually only sees it in conjunction with his work on Plot Days if something goes wrong or he has last-minute adjustments to make. Megamind out of uniform in tight-fitting jeans and a henley, lifting them into the air with practiced ease in a ship he built—that’s not something Roxanne has ever seen.

"And off we go," he says.

"Into the wild blue yonder," Roxanne replies, and Megamind chuckles.

He zips them to the edge of the building and tips them right over without any hesitation, and Roxanne is very proud of herself for not yelping in alarm about it—she had sort of assumed there would be a sloped descent. Instead, she falls forward against her seat’s straps and they sail down the outside of the building almost vertically until Megamind pulls them into a sharp swoop and levels them out.

This must be the cruising altitude over the road he mentioned ages ago. Roxanne catches her breath and tries to ignore her pounding heart at the unexpected seventeen-story drop.

"So," she asks, to hide her nerves, "do some of those communicate what’s under us?" She nods at the mess of dials and sensors and circular indicators with wobbly needles on the pilot's side. The pair of control rods coming out of the floor that handle the steering each have several buttons placed within easy reach of the pilot’s fingers and thumb; Roxanne can only assume the buttons correlate to some kind of information coming off the dash. "Since we can’t…really see anything?"

Megamind glances over at her. "Some of them," he says, lips twitching. "Yes. But on clear days I do usually fly by sight."

Roxanne cocks her head, opens her mouth to ask—Megamind reaches out and touches a button glowing the same blue as the energy shining in the wingtips and tail. The button flashes gently a couple times, and—

—the shell of the cockpit shimmers like heat-haze and then disappears entirely.

"Whoa!"

She physically startles; she can’t help it. Nothing feels any different; the floor is still under her feet if she wiggles far enough forward in Minion’s huge chair to touch down, and the chair is still fully visible. So are the dashboard sensors in front of her, so the cockpit is definitely still there. But Roxanne and Megamind are, very abruptly, zipping down the road between the office buildings and skyscrapers in midtown thirty feet off the ground, with nothing in front of or below or above them and sunlight pouring down all over everything. It’s incredibly jarring.

And very cool.

Roxanne recovers quickly, gripping the edges of her chair and leaning out to look down and around at the ground, excitement pushing her apprehension to the back of her mind. "Oh! Wow, okay! This is much better!"

Beside her, Megamind laughs and teases, "You didn’t think you’d be staring at the inside of this tin can the whole time, did you?"

"I mean, kind of! Is the outside of this section also invisible? Can people see us?"

"It is not, and they cannot."

She glances behind the two of them again. The rest of the craft is still entirely visible; it must be just the nose section that’s gone transparent. Or…not transparent? But…

"How did you do this?"

Megamind’s lips tug into another small smile. He adjusts something, and the ceiling above them shimmers back into view to shade out the sunlight. "How would you do it?"

It's not super surprising that he would ask. The first time Roxanne ever really got him talking, it was after several days of research on possible setups for the invisible car. She was a physics major before she went into journalism, after all, and she kept up with it as much as she could in electives; there was an optics lab she remembers with fondness that tied in neatly with her photography class the same semester. Megamind had lit up, listening to her speculate. Apparently she actually got pretty close.

But this…

"This couldn’t work the same way as the invisible car," she says slowly, looking up at the metal of the newly-restored ceiling and trying to figure out what’s happening at the edge of it. "That’s exterior refraction through an exterior surface; this is an exterior…image? on an interior surface." She turns to peer at the side of the ship next to her. It cuts off just behind her seat; the edge is a shining blue line with no apparent depth. "This would need cameras."

Megamind’s little smile widens.

"And projectors, probably," she says. "It’s not a coating, like on the invisible car, or else we’d see that…that faint shape happening. This is empty in front of us, except for the sensors. Even though I know it’s all texture." She reaches forward and puts her hand on the dash, carefully.

Or, she tries to. Her hand hits…something. But it’s perfectly smooth, and angled outwards. After a moment, Roxanne scoots forward and sticks a foot out. And it should, it should hit the front of the cockpit in front of her, but—a dome? Like a hollow cone out in front of them?

The other side of the cockpit, the pilot’s side, still has all its sensors and dials and switches too. And floor controls. They just appear to be floating in midair, now.

"…You figured out hard light," she realizes, and Megamind’s smile rises like the sun and bursts over his whole face. Roxanne stares at him, starting to smile now, herself, in shock and—honestly—admiration. "You ass, you finally figured out hard light and you never told me! When was this? How long ago?"

"I have had the technology for about a year and a half," he admits, voice warm, expression still absolutely ecstatic. "It’s…a work in process. Still in development, I’m…still refining. Things."

Roxanne sticks both feet out in front of her and wiggles them. "How am I doing this?"

"Pocket dimension on the other ‘side’ of the light."

"A pocket dimension?"

He shrugs. "It takes the space and…moves it. Out of space. It’s still there, it’s just not here."

"That's very cool," Roxanne says, grinning. Stroking Megamind’s ego can be dangerous, but good lord, if ever there was a time, it’s now. "You really are incredible."

"I know!" He beams at her. "That is what I keep telling people! Incredibly handsome criminal genius! Ha! And—and well done, you, figuring it out," he adds, cocking an eyebrow at her and curling his happy smile into more of a teasing one. "I thought you probably would; you are…brilliant."

"It’s really neat." She looks ahead again and lifts her feet out in front of her. Holds them there for a moment. Completely misses the deeper pink rising in Megamind’s ears and the way his eyes linger on her before he returns his attention to the road.

"My mom and I used to go to the park when I was a kid, and I’d go on the swings," Roxanne says, gazing down at her feet and past them at the street and the cars and trucks they’re flying past below. The tall buildings are thinning out and they’re approaching the suburbs now, as they head south over the highway. "I’d go as high as I could and then swing forward with my legs out…I wouldn’t jump off, but I’d pretend I was flying with magic shoes. Going off a ski jump and into the sky, maybe." She laughs a little. "I could never really get a solid story going; I always fell back too quickly. But I used to daydream what it would be like, to just…fly. On the swings."

Megamind looks over at her, still grinning, looking sort of quizzical.

"I dreamed about what it would be like; I never dreamed I’d get the chance to actually find out," Roxanne says, still smiling down at her feet the landscape below. "I haven't thought about that in years."

She looks over at Megamind, whose heart is in his throat at her smile.

"I know you don’t like being thanked," she says, eyes sparkling, "but…this is really cool. Thanks for this."

"Do you want to learn to fly her," he blurts, instead of anything normal like ‘you’re welcome’ or ‘of course’ or possibly ‘BINGO’ which never comes out correctly when he speaks and is therefore a lot of fun to misspell when he types.

Roxanne physically recoils, eyes going wide and smile dropping. Megamind very nearly bites his own tongue in half because oops nope wrong to say somehow, not sure how but obviously wrong, but—

"Could I?" She stares at him, then looks at the array of controls and sensors in front of him. "Wait, really?"

Oh. Maybe not wrong then. Maybe she’s just surprised? "Very probably yes," he says, nodnodnodding, "I think so! I learned how; I don’t see why you couldn’t!"

For some reason, this makes Roxanne's eyebrows pull into a Shape and her smile comes back looking—confused? But also still happy? And her face goes somewhat pinker than usual as well; he doesn’t know what to do with that.

"Megamind," she says, "you invented pocket dimensions."

He squints at her, eyes flicking from her face to the controls to her face to the way she’s sitting, to the back of the airship, to her face. No revelations strike, alas. "Yeah?" he finally says. "So? Oh—you mean—you want to learn those as well? I can teach you those as well! I’m sure I can, if you—no?"

"I don’t think I’ll ever have the materials to be able to tackle those on my own," she says. She’s still smiling; this does take some of the sting out of the no. And that is a fair point. "I just…wasn’t expecting a passive assessment of my abilities to be so glowing."

That one takes him a moment to work through.

Then he snorts.

"Okay, one," he says, "I did just say you were brilliant, Roxanne. But also, two—it’s just a small aircraft! It isn’t like I’m giving you all my, my jamblyscrambly coffee-stained notes reconciling quantum gravity and saying, ‘here, figure it out.’ Which," he adds, "you probably could do anyway, due to see: point one. But it might take you a teensy bit longer than learning to fly this thing. So, you do want to, then? The learning to fly? Yes?"

"Oh my god yes," she says, fervent. "Yeah, if you’re willing to show me, I am absolutely into learning!"

He beams over at her. "Fantastic! Then—hm, then when we stop to stretch, you can get back in on this side, and I will walk you through the everything. Yes?"

"Sure!"

Oh, that’s a relief, Roxanne thinks, settling back in her chair and sticking her feet out again, smiling down at them and the road peeling away beneath them. This way Megamind isn’t stuck as pilot the whole time; he’ll be able to rest a little, maybe, if she learns quickly enough. And! She gets to fly! She gets to fly!

This really is incredible. They’re going so fast! Thirty hours down to fourteen or fifteen, and still splitting it up over two nights. This is going to be so fun, lingering prickles of anxiety be damned. It’s been ages since she’s had a proper vacation. And if they mess up with each other, well…it’s not like either of them can just walk away. They’ll figure it out.

It’s just Megamind. He’s always been so fearless with her, so willing to give her just as much crap as she gives him. Roxanne has nothing to fear from him.

She always feels better once she actually gets on the road. What on earth was she even so worried about.

They’re only a little more than an hour into their trip when Megamind starts getting antsy. Roxanne has told herself already that she isn’t going to make fun of him for needing to stretch, but—her family’s idea of a ‘road trip’ was always to pick a destination and then drive. If it was more than around sixteen hours or so, they might split it overnight, but otherwise…otherwise, when Roxanne and her brother were small, it was leave in the evening so the kids could sleep while their parents drove through the night; when the kids were old enough to pitch in driving, they would leave before dawn and then drive through the day. It was an exercise in teamwork, in discomfort, in introspection. She’s accustomed to waiting until the car needs gas before she can get out and stretch or use the bathroom—anywhere between three and five hours at a stretch.

Today’s whole trip will only be about five hours. It feels completely unreal.

But this vehicle doesn’t run on gas, so it won’t run low, so her agreement with Megamind is that whenever either of them needs or even just wants to get out, that is what they will do.

Megamind brings them down behind a gas station just on the far side of Grand Rapids, then claws his way free of his straps and his chair and scrambles up out of the exit hatch onto the sloped wing.

"Freedom!"

Roxanne follows a little more slowly. She isn’t as bendy as he is, and the cockpit is quite tight. But she manages to climb out in the end.

She lifts her arms over her head, nets her fingers, lifts her palms out towards the sky with a groan. Megamind has slid down the wing onto the ground and is going through a series of stretches that should not be possible for most humans.

"You okay?"

He looks up at her as she lowers herself onto the wing with her legs extended down the slope of it. "Are you sitting back down? Already?"

She shrugs, grinning. "I’m built different."

"Apparently." He bends all the way over backwards, plants his hands on the ground, and tilts his head all the way back as his spine unrolls and swings his legs neatly up and over himself so he can shove off the ground in a shallow arc onto his feet. He repeats this a couple times, rolling through slow back handsprings, then curls himself down forward into a ball with his knees on either side of his head.

"You really aren’t used to sitting still, huh."

His voice is muffled. "No I am very much not."

Across the street, a small child is yanking on their mother’s jacket and pointing at the ship and the alien contorting himself into painful-looking shapes beneath it.

"Potential incoming at your six," Roxanne says.

"Hmm?" Megamind looks up and turns around. "Oh. Ha. Yes, hi, ollo!" he calls, waving. "Just passing through! Kindly do not call the police!"

The mother glances uncertainly from him to Roxanne, who also smiles and waves. "We should go as soon as you’re done," she says quietly, and Megamind makes a sound of agreement and rises, twisting himself from side to side.

"I can be done," he says. "Give me another hour in the box and I’ll need to get out again, probably. Are you okay? You really don’t need to, to…run around? Do any jumping jacks?"

Laughing, she shakes her head. "If I do that too much I’ll mess up the part of my brain that’s set to Road Trip Mode," she tells him. She’s only half-joking. "Come on, help me find a different place for your snack box—if I’m going to fly her, we’ll probably need to move the seat back a little bit. My legs are longer than yours."

Megamind nods, and jogs a quick lap around the gas station building, and then climbs up the wing and follows Roxanne back inside.

He gets back in the pilot’s chair for a couple of minutes, until they can get further outside of town and into the open. Into a field by the side of the highway, so Roxanne won’t run them into any buildings or pedestrians. But after that…

They move the snack box and get Roxanne settled a comfortable distance from the controls, and Megamind settles into the passenger seat with one leg tucked under him so he can lean over and walk her through the basics.

"Okay," he says, "she’s a bit of a cross between a small airplane and a helicopter, but set up for a single pilot rather than pilot and copilot. Some airplane controls, some helicopter controls. The three main directions to worry about are the same as in an airplane—roll, pitch, yaw—but let’s focus on getting off the ground for now."

"Can we keep the cockpit transparent?"

"That will probably be best, yes," he says. "So, first you have to get the fuel panels connected—it sounds more complicated than it is, don't worry—"

Roxanne follows his instructions and shakily pulls them into the air with her lip between her teeth, trying to pay attention both to what Megamind is saying and the way the ship feels under her.

Megamind is pointing at the various sensors and gauges currently hovering in midair as they rise away from the ground. "So—torquemeter, airspeed indicator, altimeter. Flying like this, on a clear day, you can mostly fly by sight, but your attitude indicator here is going to be your best friend in fog. Also, your turn and slip and your horizontal situation indicators, here. And—"

Roxanne stares at everything as Megamind lays out the controls in front of her, then moves on to the center panel and overhead switchboard. There’s a lot. But it does all seem reasonable.

"What about this one?" She gestures at what appears to be a flat black screen with several concentric circles on it.

Megamind glances at it. "Missile alert display."

"Missile alert display?"

He shrugs. "You never know."

Roxanne snorts. "Fair enough. I guess it would also come in handy as a Metro Man alert display."

"Ah, yes. I try to fly under his metaphorical radar as much as possible," Megamind says. "He doesn’t share well. The hoverbike, he will tolerate. Strange aircraft in his airspace, not so much. I can mostly just cover my everything in spikes and he knows it’s me—I have a particular aesthetic, you know—"

"That was something I have noticed, yes."

"—har har—but even so. I don’t like to risk it."

She snorts. "I’m picturing him just…dropping out of the sky on an unexpected helicopter. Just freight-train nailing the poor thing like a falcon."

Megamind bursts into unexpected laughter. "Ha! Yes! At least it’s a helicopter and not some passing metahuman. See if you can guide us back out over the road. Let's take her up to fifty feet, as well, give you some wiggle room."

"Oh god," she mumbles, "okay, um—that’s—a vertical axis rotation, so yaw, and then pitch, so—oh, and forward—"

The little craft turns slowly and inches forward, rattling ominously. "Um," she says, "the shaking is—?"

"Wait and see!"

"Ha, that’s super reassuring, thanks. …Oh!"

The whole thing smooths out as soon as they’re over the highway. Roxanne overcorrects at first, zigzagging awkwardly and rattle-bumping and seizing her lip between her teeth until it hurts—but—

Megamind shakes his head and points at one of the dashboard indicators, a bubble with a wobbly line in it. "You’re going by sight too much," he says. "You don’t know where the rest of the ship is yet. Keep your eye on this, try to keep it level. And this one, try to keep it vertical."

"Okay—"

It helps. Roxanne moves her attention to the dashboard and pulls them straight without too much trouble.

"There," Megamind says, sounding pleased. "See? Not so hard! Now open the throttle a bit—yes—"

They glide down the highway with Roxanne white-knuckling her pitch-roll sticks. "Aaaaa," she says, noting the curve of the road ahead of them. "Aaaaaa—ohgod—"

Years ago, she used to mow her parents’ lawn on a riding mower with dual sticks to control it rather than a wheel. The highway curves and Roxanne blanks and defaults back to the lawnmower controls, pulling back on one stick and pushing the other and OOPS nope, correct it—pull—push? She’s—the ship is—

Everything is squealing alarms and blinking lights and Roxanne makes a shocked sound and flinches as the ground comes rushing in—they've shot off the road and it’s not cars, at least it isn’t cars—

Megamind throws himself across her and seizes the sticks, cranking hard on one and hauling back on the other, and the airship’s nose tucks under and they turn a neat little flip in midair in a shower of snacks and then level out ten feet above the ground.

"Sorry," Roxanne gasps, hands on either side of her face. She yanked herself back when Megamind took over. "Sorry sorry sorry—um—"

He’s laughing as he scrambles back upright. "Well," he says, "that was exciting!"

"You should drive," she says, hot with embarrassment and adrenaline and trying not to let on how thick her throat wants to get. "God, I’m so sorry, that wasn’t—"

"No, no," he exclaims. "No, you can do it! You’re doing so well!"

"I almost ran us into the ground!"

"I did run myself into the ground, my first time," Megamind says, smiling into her face as he dusts himself off. "Come on. I have an idea, if you don’t mind trying something that might seem—ah—awkward? But if I sit behind you, and you put your hands on mine—you can see how it should feel. Okay?"

Roxanne nods, cheeks burning and voice locked, and scrambles out of her chair.

Megamind starts to reach down for its truck lever to move it, but then he hesitates. "Ah…hmm. Aa-actually," he stammers, "I…may need to sit in front of you, instead; your legs are longer than mine. Is that…?"

She nods again.

"You sure?" He cocks his head at her. Pauses. "Oh. Um. Are you okay?"

…Goddammit.

Okay, come on, voice. "Yeah," she says, too high, blinking too hard. "Yeah, sorry, I’m. A little panicky! I guess! Um." She flashes a smile and curses herself as her eyes fill. "Sorry," she says again, rubbing her thumbs under them. "Sorry, I’m fine."

He isn’t smiling anymore. "It really is okay," he says. "No one is hurt."

Roxanne manages a damp laugh. "Yeah," she says again, "I—I know, we’re fine, I’m fine, I just—it’s like learning to drive all over again! My mom was always on me not to overcorrect, I know not to overcorrect, and what’s the first thing I do?" She sweeps a hand at the controls, pinching her lips together.

Megamind is still searching her face with worried eyes, alien-big and round with concern. "That’s—but that’s a completely normal response to unfamiliar controls!" he insists. "If you aren’t sure where ‘correct’ is, of course you’re going to go too hard looking for it. I do that all the time."

She shrugs. Her mouth is still thin and her eyes are shining and red at the edges.

"Um," Megamind says. He really isn’t sure what else to tell her, beyond, "It really is okay. I promise. Pinky-promise?" That gets another huff of wet laughter but it doesn’t appear to help.

She’s holding her arms across her chest, sitting sideways on the edge of the passenger seat in the cramped little cockpit. Okay, so then—would—hugging? He wants—he could hug, he could; it wouldn’t be weird. Friends hug to give comfort. Right? He could—

He exhales, steadies himself. "Come here," he says, and leans forward and puts his arms around her.

She immediately wraps hers around him and hooks her chin over his shoulder. Hooray!

But also, oh no.

"You’re doing well," he says again, patting her uncertainly. She squeezes him. "You are! I didn’t mean to make fun, before. You can do this! We just, we just—did—a little too much too quickly! Here." He sits back, takes her shoulders and leans her away from him, ducks forward and taps foreheads without thinking and then pulls away and stands up. All he can think is to get her back in the saddle. "Here. Come back, sit down. You can do this. You can." He drags himself away from her and scoots back to give her room to crawl across back into the pilot’s chair.

Which she does. And Megamind puts a hand on her shoulder for a moment, looking down at her. "Okay?" he asks when she looks up. He glances down at her lap, then back to her face. He hadn't really been thinking of the actual physicality when he suggested this. It feels important to confirm. "Should I…?"

"Yeah," she says. She does sound much better, even though she’s still scarlet under her freckles. "Thanks."

He steps around and wiggles himself down to sit in front of her, between her parted knees. With the seat back for Roxanne, and her sitting in it, Megamind is positioned more or less where he would usually sit. Perfect!

"Okay," he says. He sounds a lot more calm than he feels, thank evil. Roxanne is so warm behind him, and so soft. He can feel her breathing in what feels like his whole body. "Put your hands on mine. Feet on either side of mine, on the outsides. Yes, like that," as she extends her limbs along his and leans against his back. "Does that feel okay?"

"Feels fine to me," she says. "You?"

He nods. Her breath is tickling over his neck and his ear oh god oh god and she’s so warm and he wants, he wants arms around, he wants holding, wants touching—wants her hand on his throat, her hand between his legs, he wants, he wants—so badly—but. Ahahahaha, ha. No. He pushes it away, and he also turns himself away from the odd little afterpulse of wanting to crawl into her skin and curl himself up under her heart until he feels…better? He feels fine as-is! Ridiculous. Madness. Nonsense.

"I am also fine," he declares, forcing himself to focus on the ship. "Now. I’m keeping most of my attention on these three, here…"

He pulls them back up to cruising height and turns them back to the roadway, then throws them forward, narrating what he’s looking at and what it means and how he’s thinking. Pedals, pitch-roll sticks, cockpit indicators. See how it tilts, feel how it moves. Roxanne sits behind him and around him and makes affirmative noises as he talks.

"Okay," he says eventually, over the sound of his pounding heart. (he's over his shock now but all of his everything is still just singing inside him; this is so nice, this is SO nice) "I’ll keep my feet on the floor controls, but I’m taking my hands off the sticks. Ready?"

"I-I think so."

He nods and drops his hands to his lap. Roxanne behind him goes very tense.

Ahead of them, the road begins to curve again.

"You can do it," he says, in response to the soft anxious sound she makes in her throat. He moves his hands to her knees. "You can do it. I’m right here. Remember. Little twist—yes! And pull—yes! See! Hold her through the turn, and—there you go! See! I told you! I told you!"

She exhales behind him, starts laughing with relief. He was right. She did it. "You did," she exclaims. "Okay, okay, you were right! Fine!"

"Ha," he says. "Okay, and I’m going to take my feet off now as well. Ready?"

Roxanne nods. Exhales again. "Ready."

Megamind pulls his feet back, and then—

Roxanne is flying. By herself.

Okay, by herself with Megamind in her lap ready to be a safety net if she needs one, ready to catch her if she needs him to. But she guides them through another turn unassisted, and then another. Holy crap.

"Not so bad, right?"

She can hear his grin, knows exactly what face he’s wearing, and she rolls her eyes. She can’t quite keep her own smile down, either. "Okay, okay, it’s not so bad. What was that thing you did to flip us over?"

"Oh," he laughs. "Here, I’ll show you. Take us higher first, another fifteen feet or so."

"Um…" It takes her a second, but then she remembers, right, rock her hands back on the sticks, and…

"Good!" he exclaims. "Okay, hands on mine again, and stay loose. You’ll want your fingers…right, good. On three, I’m going to point us at the ground."

He does so, showing her the indicators to watch, the angle of the sticks and which triggers he’s holding. And then he drops them, and twists left while pulling right, and this time Roxanne can feel the little craft tuck itself under as he brings them back level again.

"Huh," she says. "Neat!"

They’re going to have to re-pack the snackbox the next time they stop, everything is still rolling and rustling around in the smooth invisibility created by the pocket dimension. They look like floating bags of Combos and Oreos. Floating, or resting on an invisible floor, which technically is what they're doing.

For now, Megamind takes his hands back off the pitch-roll control sticks. "Get us back up to speed?"

"Right. That’s…like this."

"Good," he says again, sounding pleased, and he settles back against her.

Wow, he really must not be upset with her at all. She had thought for sure there would be scorn. Some kind of recrimination. But no, he only teased, and he stopped that when he saw she was freaking out.

Still, she thinks she probably should apologize anyway. It's the right thing to do and she's still deeply mortified. But, when she tries…

"Am I going to need to make a boingo card for sorries as well as thank youses," Megamind sighs. "Truly. It’s okay! I shouldn’t have put you in the pilot’s chair all by yourself so soon! That was as much my fault as it was yours."

She's still kicking herself, but Roxanne just can't resist that one. "Oh? Megamind, admitting fault? Stop the presses."

The ear she can see in front of her goes very pink. "Well then I won’t bother trying to be nice and you can sit eternally consumed with pointless shame," he huffs. "Honestly! I do not see what the point of all the big fuss is. So you were not instantly a prodigy in the air, so what?"

"Sorry." She can’t take her hands off the controls; she bonks her temple against his huge head, instead. "I don’t know. Just…used to being yelled at a little more when I almost crash into something, I guess. I kinda assumed you’d be angry with me."

"What would be the point of yelling?" He sounds horribly confused. "What would be the point of angry? Would it inspire better performance from you? It never inspired anything better from me."

Roxanne feels herself recoil a little. "Who yells at you?"

"Growing up? Oh, everyone, at some point. Now it’s only most people. I don’t get many try-agains."

Do-overs. Second chances. But no, he wouldn’t, would he?

"That’s horrible," she says. "You deserve as many as everyone else."

"Agree to disagree," he replies. "That would imply I deserve infinite try-agains, and we both know that’s not true."

"You know that," she says; "I know nothing of the sort."

"Yes, but that’s only because you haven’t figured out not to encourage me," he tells her. "Wait ‘til you get sick of me. It’ll go back down to zero, same as it is for everyone else."

The really sad thing is, he doesn’t actually even sound that bitter about it. More like he’s just stating facts.

So Roxanne snorts instead of arguing. "Yeah, that’ll happen," she says, packing her voice full of as much sarcasm as possible. "Good luck with that."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Megamind," she says, with her hands on the pitch-roll sticks of his airship and her feet on the floor controls, "if I was going to get sick of you, I would have done it a long time ago, one of the many, many times you turned up at my home unannounced and wandered inside. You really have no idea how much I do not let people do that."

He wrinkles his face. "Huh?"

"I rent in a building with a doorman for a reason," she says. "You and Minion have standing invitations, but it’s you and Minion and nobody else."

"Really."

"Yep. So you can just give up on making me sick of you right now, it's not going to happen."

Megamind sighs and leans back on her, folding his arms over his chest, mock-grumbling in his throat. Roxanne grins. Ha, another win for her!

"How are you holding up on energy," she says. "Need to get out?"

"I’ll be okay for another quarter-hour or so," he says, but he starts to sit forward anyway. "I can move, though, if you—"

"No no, you stay! Just checking in." She shakes her head. "I’m still not totally sure about all of the buttons and levers and everything? And you’re chilly, so it’s not like I’m overheating."

Slowly, he leans back on her again.

"As long as you don't mind," he says.

"No, you're fine."

It catches her attention, though. How ready he was to move, and what he said about getting yelled at. And the way he seems to be genuinely resting his full weight against her. Roxanne hasn't previously given much thought to how anyone might sit, if they had to sit with her like this—she's never had cause to wonder—but probably she would have assumed, bolt upright? Not leaning?

This is…nice, though. The hard plane of his back, the weight of him on her. Roxanne doesn't get much contact these days. Megamind probably doesn't know this sort of thing isn't really ‘done’ between friends, but like hell is she going to tell him. 

And, really. Who says friends can't cuddle. Who says friends can't lean on each other physically as well as emotionally. Bullshit. This is fine. If she's uncomfortable, she'll say something; otherwise she's happy to stay like this. Megamind always seems so much bigger than he really is; he actually fits with her surprisingly well.

She is interested to see if she can fly again without him basically in her lap, though. This is honestly really fun. There's a lot to keep track of, but it's full-body, and she can already feel her feet learning to respond almost without thinking to the way the little craft shifts and turns.

"How long have you had this thing?" she asks. "Does it have a name?"

"A little less than a year."

Roxanne isn’t confident at top speed yet, but they’re hurtling down the road at an amazing clip. A tractor-trailer appears in front of them, and Roxanne—feels—the little craft pass over it, a slight pressure against their altitude. Cars barely register as anything.

"No name yet," Megamind says. And then, slowly, "I’m…thinking of calling her the Magic Shoes."

The—

Roxanne snorts and tries to catch herself, which makes a VERY odd noise, and Megamind twists fully around to stare at her.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah I’m fine, just—wait, seriously? You’re serious?"

He shrugs. "I don’t have to. But. I liked your story."

It’s a darned good thing Roxanne isn’t super comfortable flying yet, because she is seized by the odd desire to wrap her arms around him. One arm, at least. That’s… inexplicably charming.

Wow," she says. "Okay. That would be really cute, actually. Aw."

"You wouldn’t mind?"

She laughs a little. "Mind? No, I’d be flattered! I wasn't really expecting that to make such an impression." She grins. "Not very evil, though."

"Oh, as though I will ever be telling anyone else the name of the ship," he says, rolling his eyes. "If it ever comes up I shall simply lie! and call her the Monstrous Spikes."

He pauses.

Then, while Roxanne is still cackling at 'monstrous spikes,' he says, "I bet I can show you something fun," and he feels her also sort of pause behind him.

"Sure," she says. "Here, do you want me to move?"

"No, stay with me. Close your eyes until I say."

He takes the controls from her and feels her lean back in the pilot’s chair. A glance over his shoulder shows her eyes are indeed closed, and he swallows and kills their speed.

The airship they’re in is not, strictly speaking, built for flight. Not independently. It’s built to move over and between relatively smooth surfaces at a certain height. Asphalt is good, unpaved ground is okay if it doesn't have trees. But Megamind can get a lot of height over metal, and there’s a flatbed trailer underneath them with a load of piping strapped to its bed.

Altitude builds and gathers under them. He adjusts a few settings, increases the sensitivity of the Magic Shoes' stabilizers, and climbs.

"I felt something change," Roxanne says. "What are you doing?"

"You’ll see! You’ll see. Give me a minute."

This whole idea is very silly, very much nonsense. And absurdly dangerous considering the strain it’s going to put on his vessel, but that’s okay, it’s okay. Megamind knows what she can take.

It’s been a long time since he’s been on any swingsets, but he remembers the angle, more or less, at the apex of the backswing. He drags them into the sky over the flatbed trailer, matching its speed beneath them, and takes a deep breath. He’s about to throw them forward, off of the tons of steel currently helping them maintain altitude, and then they are going to fall, and—

"Stick your feet out," he says, "and open your eyes."

The little airship hangs in the air several hundred feet up, nose down at seventy degrees.

"Oh my god," Roxanne says behind him. "You’re not going to—"

"Annie get your shoes on," he says, and drops them out of the sky.

It is immediately worth it.

It is immediately worth it, one hundred percent, because Roxanne shrieks with laughter and wraps both arms around his waist as she stares forward and down. She has no idea how hard Megamind’s teeth are gritted, has no idea how the little metal box they’re in is fighting him. They’re heading for the road at a steep angle, and—Megamind—throws out a hand and slams a button down and then hauls back on the control rods and shoves both his feet flat to the floor, and they curve—up—in a smooth arc—

"Oh my god," Roxanne exclaims again, in a voice he has no idea what to do with but immediately loves more than any other he’s ever heard from her, "oh my god—"

The flatbed trailer is well behind them now, vanishing into the distance, and there’s no similar one anywhere ahead of them that the sensors can pick up, so Megamind can’t pull them as high into the sky coming out of their dive, which is regrettable. But it doesn’t seem to matter, because Roxanne is giggling behind him, and then suddenly her arms around him go tight and she shoves her face against his shoulder, just for a second.

"Aaaa that was fun! Thank you! You’re the best, you’re so good."

"Manifestly untrue; I am a nasty evil nightmare creature."

"You are a good friend," she says, squeezing him. "To me, at least."

Megamind bites his tongue on being a good friend to you is everything I could ever possibly want. Far too sentimental. He swallows the warmth of those words back down into his pounding heart where they belong, and says, "Do you want to keep flying? Practice, perfect, eeteecee eeteecee."

"Yeah! Yeah, here. Um…fingers go…and, and my feet…here?"

"That is exactly right! Look at you go, Miss Ritchi, I knew you could."

He wiggles around for a moment under the pretense of getting comfortable. Really what he wants to do is steal a glance over his shoulder…

…Ah. Good. Big happy grin, bright sparkly eyes. She really is happy.

Pleased, he settles, and leans back against her.

Maybe this really will all turn out okay in the end.

Chapter Text

They're heading west on 72 at this point, so the next place they stop is just south of Jacksonville, Illinois. Roxanne's map shows a rest stop there with a Love's and something called a Taco John's, which…

"I am not," Megamind says, launching into his stretching routine, "eating anything from anywhere called Taco John's."

"I might," Roxanne says, leaning against a spike-free section of wing as she scrolls through their menu on her phone. "They seem fine."

"Your funeral," he says. "Argh. Oh, my spine. Whatever I am was not meant to sit on its butt for this long."

"I'm going to hit the head, I'll meet you in there," Roxanne says, putting her phone in her purse and shoving off onto her feet.

"What?"

"I need to see a man about a horse."

"What?"

"I gotta pee!"

"Ah." He rolls up to standing, then starts folding himself over backwards. "Yes, I'll likely follow, in a moment."

He trots out of the bathroom a few minutes later and finds Roxanne on a bench in the hall, a paper takeout bag in one hand and…something…in the other.

"What on earth is that."

"Cheesy beef and potato taco."

"Are those hash browns in there?"

She nods. "It's not bad, honestly! Bite?"

"Thank you, no. How are you sitting?"

Roxanne peers up at him, quizzical. "On…my butt?"

"After hours on the road! Hours sitting! How are you still sitting!"

She shrugs, grins. "Built different. Hey!"

Megamind has just scowled and swiped her taco. He takes a bite and then hands it back.

"You said no," she accuses, gingerly rearranging the thing in her hand so it won't drip cheese. "You said you didn't want any. Well? Thoughts?"

"It's not what I would call tacos," he says, glaring out the doors and into the distance, chewing, "but it is acceptable as food. It has a…favorable corn by-product to food ratio. I'll stick with my soan papdi."

"Yeah, can I try some of that when we get back on board? I have no idea what to expect, the picture on the box looked totally different from basically anything I've ever seen."

"I will share."

Roxanne finishes the rest of her taco, then stands. "Ahhh. Oh, that's better. I didn't realize how hungry I was getting. …You okay?"

Megamind is still glaring. "It feels wrong here."

She frowns a little. "It…?"

"The roads are wrong. They're laid out weird. And it's too flat. There aren't any buildings. And it's full of people with faces I don't recognize."

Oh.

"Everywhere is a little different, yeah," she agrees, following him back outside. She always forgets about his ability to remember faces. But yeah, it really must feel strange, to have such a passing familiarity with so many people that he can pretty much take it for granted that he'll always recognize someone, and then going somewhere completely different. "On some other continents, we'd be in another country by now. The USA is stupid-huge. How often do you go grocery shopping? I swear there is no weirder feeling than walking into an unfamiliar grocery store three states over."

"Really, grocery stores?"

"Uh-huh! No idea why. It feels like you've just entered a whole other dimension."

"Huh." He pauses by the wing. "You want to keep flying?"

"Sure!"

She scrambles up the spikes to the entry hatch, then slides down into the by-now-familiar little cockpit.

"You don't have to, if you're tired," Megamind says, following a little more slowly. "That last stretch was quite long."

Roxanne laughs. "I don't mind. I'm kind of excited to see if I can do it without you sitting in my lap."

"Oh I imagine you'll be fine," he assures her. "You picked it right up. Just be careful of our wingspan, getting out of here and back onto the highway. …Roxanne?"

"Hmm?"

"Before, you said…your family didn't really stop much, on these trips." He frowns. "But, we keep passing signs. For interesting things. You like museums, and, and I saw a sign for some kind of small amusement park a few miles back. You…never stopped? Any of those places?"

She shrugs. "They would have added too much time," she says. "We mostly just kept driving. But, if you want to stop somewhere, we can totally do that!"

He straps himself into the passenger seat, frowning, and doesn't reply.

"Soan papdi?" Roxanne asks.

"Ah! Yes, so—here, I'm going to put it in a tissue for you, it's crumbly—"

Roxanne is really excited about the place she found for their first night out of Metro. She meant it when she said she didn't want Megamind to feel too much like a fish out of water; she had initially planned on finding somewhere urban. But then he requested water, specifically, and she was poking around on their route at roughly the seven-hundred-mile mark, and there was this house, and it had a lake, and Megamind had said before he left that night to use his card and handed her something that looked like a credit card but felt like it was probably solid metal, black as ink and with the name of a bank she had never heard of on it, and…

It's secluded, on a couple hundred acres of land, set well away from any major roads. The lake is fully in the middle of the property. And it feels like the universe is answering Roxanne's hopes for unseasonal heat, so maybe they'll even be able to swim? That would be wonderful.

She takes them rattling and bouncing up the dirt road, with Megamind sitting forward and peering interestedly around at the birches and willows, the seasonal wetlands on either side of the road filled and shining. It's early afternoon and Roxanne can feel the back of her mind scratching at the inside of her skull like a confused dog, wondering where the rest of the driving is. Five hours? Sixish? Too few! Too few hours! Where are the rest!

But this is…nice, actually, she thinks as she carefully lowers the craft to land on the grass and dirt outside the cabin. The sky is clear and blue, the sun is high, the lake behind the house is glittering invitingly. The air in the sunlight is almost as warm as she was hoping for, she finds when she crawls out onto the wing after Megamind.

He's standing on top of his little craft and staring around at the place with big eyes. "Is this ours? Just ours? There's nobody else?"

"Yep," she confirms. "It's just us out here. Plus whatever wildlife is around."

He swivels his head around to beam at her, turning just a little too far on his long neck. He's forgotten himself—it's his too-wide smile, the one that shows all of his teeth. That's one of her favorites. "How did you find this place! It's perfect!"

Embarrassed, she shrugs. "I was just playing around with the route in Google Maps," she says. "You like it?"

"When you said it was on a lake I did not think you meant on stilts, on the floodplain," he exclaims. He scrambles down to the ground and then bounces up the stairs of the deck to plant his hands on the railing and lean himself out over the shallow water with the wind in his face and his head thrown back. "I can smell everything!" he exclaims. "There's no—no asphalt! No—exhaust or hint of garbage or anything!"

Roxanne laughs. "Come on," she says, pulling at the cargo hatch. "Help me get our stuff out so we can put it inside. You want to go swimming?"

"Don't ask stupid questions, they're beneath you," he says, but he's grinning and he sounds very amiable as he comes trotting back down the steps and over to her. "No, no, it's the other way. Here," and the hatch pops open. "Boots, bag. Anything else?"

"Box of snacks?"

"Ah! Yes, right."

The interior of the place is almost entirely brown. Wood paneling on the walls, finished wood shiplap on the ceilings, hardwood floors—with the exception of the house's enormous mud room just inside the door, which is tiled. That's unsurprising; with the size of the property, Roxanne will be shocked if the owners don't have hunters in their family. Sure enough, just a little further inside the space opens out into a wide room with high ceilings and enormous windows on either side of a stone fireplace, and what little wall space is available there is largely taken up with hunting trophies.

Megamind is staring up and around at everything, wide-eyed and interested. Roxanne is willing to bet this is the most rustic, rural space he's ever seen in person, let alone slept overnight in.

"This place is enormous," he says, turning around and around in place in the big living room.

"Yeah, it has a ton of beds," Roxanne says, fighting her suitcase a little bit—it has a loose wheel that catches sometimes on smooth floors. "But all the smaller places were right on top of the neighbors, so—"

"I'm not complaining! Not complaining! Simply observing! Wow. And, so where—where do we—?"

"Pretty sure bedrooms are down this way," she says, dragging her suitcase after her. Megamind follows with his own bag on his shoulder, staring around at all of the everything.

There are four bedrooms, one of which is in a kind of loft-type attic space with five beds crammed into it. Roxanne and Megamind each take one of the ground-floor bedrooms instead, side-by-side across from the bathroom. The sun is high, and both of them are immediately on the same page with regards to swimming.

"Did you bring water shoes?" Roxanne calls, pulling her shirt off over her head. "Sorry, I forgot to mention—it's—you might want to wear shoes, there might be broken glass or fishhooks on the lake bottom."

"No," Megamind's voice says back, and she snorts—the walls seem quite thin. "No, but I heal quickly. And my skin is extremely tough! I shall risk it. Do you have water shoes?"

"Yeah, I brought my Tevas." They're thick-soled, heavy-duty sandals with straps around her ankles and across the tops of her feet behind her toes.

She had gone around and around in circles with herself while packing, trying to figure out what on earth to do about swimwear. Ordinarily she would go for a bikini and try to get some last-minute, late-season sun, but…she sort of felt like that might be…uncomfortably revealing? Somehow? Around Megamind? Roxanne has never quite been able to draw a bead on his sexuality and he has always been respectful of her physically, but he's not shy about flirting with her and she's definitely caught him checking her out more than once. It's not that she minds him looking—sort of flattering, really—but the idea of wearing something as skimpy as a bikini around him feels oddly mean-spirited. It feels a little too much like deliberate teasing instead of just casual flirting. He's usually so private and he has agreed to stay with her for a week with no way out; the last thing Roxanne wants to do is make him feel uncomfortable around her.

In the end, she did bring a couple of her usual favorites along just in case, but she also brought a one-piece with built-in sleeves. The tag said it was meant for surfing, but Roxanne isn't so sure about that; it has a wide slash diagonally across the chest that seems like it would pull wide and get stuck under a tit if she were to get swamped by a wave and scraped across the seafloor. Still, it fits well, and hopefully it'll help her avoid looking like she's trying to cover all the way up around her companion.

…Her companion, on the other hand, appears to feel no such compunction. He's wearing a pair of high-waisted black swimming shorts that hug him just as tightly as his usual leathers do, but absolutely nothing else. They cut off just above his knees.

Roxanne's mouth goes very unexpectedly dry. She keeps her eyes up, though, and just grins at him when she opens her door and finds him waiting in the hall with a couple of towels over his arm. "You ready to go?"

He nods hard, bouncing on the balls of his feet, eyes sparkling and face split in his wide smile. "Yes! Let's!"

…Holy smokes.

Roxanne follows him out onto the deck and then down into the grass, trying not to stare. He's—sculpted. She had known Megamind was fit, but oh god, his back? His shoulders? And his neck without anything on it is so long and slim? Okay, wow. She's just…never seen this much of his skin at one time. That's all. It's just new. And she's attracted to him, but she knew that already; that's under control, no worries. This is just new.

Guess the bikini would have been fine, after all, she thinks, rueful. 

Megamind flips the towels over the railing of the deck, then skips down the stairs and across the grass and splash-splash-splashes right into the lake, no hesitation at all, no looking where he's going. Partly because he's too excited for swimming in new water, but mostly because if he stops and looks around, he's going to explode out of sheer glee. He's! Going swimming! With Roxanne! They have had many hours in close quarters and nothing has gone wrong between them! They made it to their first stop, and she does not appear to be regretting anything! She seems like she's having fun, even! She's coming swimming! The world is beautiful and Roxanne is beautiful and Megamind is turning cartwheels and backflips in his mind. Worth it worth it worth it, all of the anxiety and worry was worth it, and he is going to pretend he is not dizzyingly self-conscious about how much skin he's showing. 

He spins and falls backwards into the lake to float on his back and grin at Roxanne. "Slowpoke!"

"Oh gosh it's cold," she gasps. She's half-laughing. "How are you already all the way in?"

"Built different!"

"I guess you must be," she laughs. "Aaaaaaaaaa…"

"Come all the way under," he urges. He flips backwards and then pokes his head up. "It's better wetter."

"Hnngngh," she says. "Okay, okay. Give. Give me a moment." She stands, hugging her arms and staring at the water. Breathing shallowly.

"Roxanne—"

She lets out a high-pitched shriek and flings herself forward in a grand splash. And a powerful shower of upward bubbles, Megamind sees, because he went under with her to watch.

He surfaces with her, too. Roxanne is gasping, but Megamind is laughing so hard he can barely breathe.

"What?" she demands, crouching down so her shoulders are still under. "What's funny?"

"Your FACE," he chokes out, hiccupping. "I've—your face when you went under—I've never seen—" He puffs out his cheeks and throws his eyes panicky-wide, then resumes cackling.

"Oh, shut up," she grumbles. "Because YOU'RE so dignified. Since when can you see underwater?"

"Since always?" He cocks his head at her, grinning, still snickering. "Why did you think I asked to stay somewhere with water?"

"I figured you just liked swimming."

Megamind snorts and seals his nostrils and dives forward, then rolls under the lakewater, sliding easily past her like an otter. And then curling around, rolling the other way. Sprinting out into the lake with his feet together and then flipping back, clicking happily in his sinuses. This water rushes differently from Lake Michigan—it's smaller, so the tone is very different. Much subtler currents, too. But the green feeling, the tickle in his gills, the—not flavor, it isn't a taste, but the—shine of it, the breath of the water—the way it feathers through and turns behind his gill flaps—it has different phytoplankton. He can tell. It's interesting.

But he comes back to Roxanne instead of going deeper, and he stands before he can tell himself not to.

"Wow, you are a strong swimmer," she says, sounding startled. "You didn't come up, like, at all. Wait…"

"Don't have to come up," he says, lifting his arms away from his sides a little and trying to quell his sudden shriek of anxiety. He's fine he's fine he's FINE, she isn't going to react badly to him, she ISN'T.

And, of course, she doesn't.

"Oh my god, gills?" Her jaw drops. "No wonder you didn't want swimming pools!"

"Pool water is very bad for me, yes." He crouches back down.

"And the water comes in through your…mouth?"

He shakes his head. Minion has told him that was an option being considered, back when the fully-aquatic traits were added to his people's genome. But there wasn't enough room in the neck. It would have required a tracheal split three ways, with a valve to keep water from flowing into their lungs, and that was just too much that could have gone wrong. Instead…

He points at his shoulders, at the holes that open and close in the supraclavicular fossae above his collarbones. "Spiracles," he says.

"Oh, that's cool," she says, coming closer to peer at him. "That's wild! How did I not know this about you?"

"I don't exactly advertise it. It's…a few of my uncles from the prison, and Minion. And now you."

"Aw." She blinks a little, and her pale skin goes a bit pink under her freckles. "I'm flattered. I guess I won't tell anybody, then."

"That would be best." He sends her a smile.

(See? See? It's fine.)

Roxanne wades deeper, then rolls onto her back to float with her arms out and her toes in the air.

"Yaaay we made it," she sighs. Off to the side, Megamind has his eyes and ears and the dome of his head out, but his nose and mouth are underwater. "Ahhhh. This is fantastic, best idea ever. Place on the water, ten of ten."

Her companion pokes his head up, beard slicked down and shining with water. "You…enjoy swimming, then."

"Love it." She grins. "Mom never learned to swim, so she made sure Drew and I learned early. And then she kept making sure. She signed us up for a week of swimming lessons every summer until Drew threw a fit, and then she started hassling us about becoming lifeguards!"

"This was a stand-in for lessons?"

"I guess. That didn't occur to me until later—I got the certification twice, and then I told her I was done. The entry qualifications involved swimming freestyle for two hundred continuous yards, and then retrieving a ten-pound brick and swimming with it on your chest, so…"

"So you definitely knew how to swim."

"I mean I swam the length of two football fields on a random Tuesday with no formal training or preparation and then dove and retrieved a heavy brick, two summers in a row, so yeah, I knew how to swim."

He grins. "Did you end up doing any lifeguard work?"

"The first summer." She rolls her eyes. "There was an apartment complex down the street with a pool. I covered them a couple days a week. It was extremely boring. Which is good! Boring is good, at that job, but…ugh. I got a nice hoodie out of it, though. And the best one-piece I've ever had in my life, oh my god I looked so good in that thing."

"You also—hm."

"What?"

Megamind's ears are very pink. "No. Mm-mm. Nope."

Roxanne cocks an eyebrow at him and rolls upright in the water, grinning. "You have something to say about my swimsuit?"

The rest of his face is coloring to match his ears, poor thing. "Absolutely not! You look terrible! Just awful! Wearing a totally nondescript bag of no particular shape at all; I don't have any idea what else there could possibly be to discuss."

"Uh-huh," she says, dry, hoping he can't tell how smug she is about having flustered him. She won't push her teasing any further, but it's so tempting—he's such fun, and he's right here and half-naked and they have the whole lake to themselves; she could reach for him so easily. "Well. I say you could stand to wear more color, but you do wear the swim briefs well."

He barks a laugh. "Briefs!"

"Whatever those are!"

"These have a little bit more to them than briefs!"

"Oh whatever," rolling her eyes again, "anyway, you look good! I was kind of expecting you to be in a full wetsuit."

"I might have," he admits, "but the gills make that difficult. I—oh! Fish!"

"Awww they're cute!" She very graciously allows the change of subject. Very deliberately pushes the thought of her hands on his blue skin out of her mind. "Little minnows."

Megamind goes stone-still for a moment, still crouching, arms in the water—

—he snaps his hand down and then pulls up with a delighted expression and a little fish wiggling in his palm. "Aha! Oh, it's pretty! See?" He holds it out as it falls still, gulping air.

It is pretty. Bright silvery or pale-pale gold scales, darker on top and with a dark spot on its tail. It's a dainty shape, long and narrow.

"I don't know what it is," Roxanne says. "Yeah, it is pretty, though."

"Oh! This is what's called a 'fish,'" Megamind tells her, so earnestly that for a moment she almost misses the twinkle in his eye. "They've inhabited bodies of water since their first appearance during the Cambrian era, five hundred million years ago—"

"Smartass." Roxanne rolls her eyes and pushes his shoulder, tipping him off-balance so he laughs and flails. The little fish flashes away.

"Tbbpbpt, I try to be helpful," he exclaims in mock offense. "I try to share, in my official capacity as Earth's ONLY actual merman, the fascinating history of the paraphyletic group known as 'fish,' and you're SHOVING me." All of his teeth are in his smile and his eyes are full of laughter.

"You're—a ridiculous wiseacre—"

"BULLYING me," he says, gleeful, backing away as she turns towards him, "MEAN to me—"

"What are you gonna do about it?"

She's grinning and he's laughing, eyes dancing. Standing in the clear golden-green water hugging herself against the chill, Roxanne barely has enough time to regret challenging him when his expression lights up—

Roxanne lets out a shriek as Megamind tackles her around her knees and drags her under in an enormous thrashing of limbs and splashing of bubbles. Oh I'll get him back for that! At some point! but she sees him roll over with his enormous, alien smile, and there's a rapid click-click-clicking and high, rising squeaks in her ears—right before he flicks his whole body and shoots away into deeper water where she can't stand.

Not that standing matters.

Roxanne rises for air and then ducks back under, looking for…there. She launches off the bottom with her arms over her head to glide, then slides this into flutter-kicking and breaststroking with her arms.

She's fairly out of shape for swimming, these days, but then she was never really in shape for it and that never stopped her before. Roxanne surfaces for air and throws herself forward, eyes open, pretending she feels no trepidation at all about the dark water under her and what might be hiding in it besides her silly alien.

Megamind rises and matches her pace below her, on his back, so that the next time she rolls her face into the water from where she had rolled up with her arm to breathe…

He waves and she throws herself upright with a shocked "WARBLBLRGH! Oh my GOD don't DO that!" as he pops up beside her. Still, she's laughing helplessly, treading, panting. Wiping her streaming hair out of her face.

"You're fun," Megamind declares. "And surprisingly speedy! I did not actually think you would give chase, Miss Ritchi."

"Yeah I'm full of surprises," she gasps. "Bluh. How far did I…? Aw, not as far as I thought. Oh well. Wow, it's colder out here!"

"It is," he agrees. "There is also a noticeable thermocline around five feet down."

"Huh? Oh!" as she bobs down and shoves a foot into much cooler water than what she's treading in at the surface. "That's neat."

Megamind sort of hesitates, then looks her up and down. "Are you all right?"

Roxanne grimaces. "I…am freezing, honestly." She laughs a little, voice full of regret. "I'm so sorry, I want to stay and swim more, but…I should probably go in."

"Boooo," Megamind says, grinning at her with his shoulders under the water, his spiracles flexing gently. "That's all right, you go warm up. I saw some interesting structures further out on the lakefloor I want to investigate!" And he flips over and there's a splish and he's—

—gone. Silence descends over the lake. Silence, and small birdsong, and the soft rasp of the few surviving late-summer insects in the rushes. The sun is low in the sky.

"Oh, my god," Roxanne says to herself under her breath. "Okay, Roxie. Keep it in your pants." She takes a deep breath and then sighs it out, shaking her head and side-stroking towards shore.

Darn. She really did want to swim!

But it is October, so.

Behind her, there's a splashing and a flapping of wings and quacking of ducks, and she turns. Megamind is racing along the surface like a dolphin, scattering waterfowl. She snorts.

She's allowed to be attracted to her friends, she's allowed to find friends attractive. It's fine. She won't be weird to him about it, so it's fine. It's just attraction. Who cares. He was…rather stunningly not-flirtatious about her swimsuit, earlier; she'll follow his lead and remain similarly chill.

The sand rinses out of her sandals easily enough when she sweeps one foot and then the other back and forth in the shallows to flush water between the sole of her foot and her shoe, and then she grabs her towel and heads back up the stairs shivering, her sandals squeaking with every step. It's going to be pajama time next, she decides. Shower first, and then cozy pajamas after a chilly swim in the lake? Perfect. Oooo, and maybe she can get a fire going in the fireplace! The binder of instructions definitely mentioned something about fire…

When Megamind finally comes back in, he's shaking violently and still grinning ear to ear. Roxanne looks up from her place on the sofa where she's been reading for the past couple hours.

"Have fun?"

"Yes, ver-very much fun," he declares, wrapped in his towel and hugging himself across his chest. He has a strand of lakeweed plastered to his head that he doesn't appear to be aware of. "How-how is the shower? Good?"

"It's not bad." She wiggles a hand. "It's definitely nice to warm up in. You hungry? The kitchen here actually has some supplies and stuff in the fridge." There was a note in the instruction binder indicating any prepared food or drink in the kitchen fridge was fair game, but to check that any drinks were sealed before drinking them and check all expiration dates. The fridge had soda in it and not much else, but the freezer had basic whatnot. "I made myself a ham sandwich earlier; I can make you one, too."

"Soun-sounds fantastic," he says through chattering teeth, "yes please! Ham sandwich is yes definitely. On toas-on toast?"

She laughs a little. "It'll have to be on toast; the bread is frozen."

He beams at her and then disappears down the hallway. Roxanne puts a tissue in her book to keep her place, and heads for the kitchen to make another sandwich.

Or two. She'll make two sandwiches, just in case, she decides. He had two egg ones, back when he was at her house a few months ago. Maybe he's hungry enough for two sandwiches again? Better to be safe than sorry.

It's funny. She probably would have chafed at putting down her book to make dinner if she were with her family, but this feels different, somehow. It feels fun. Sort of pleasantly domestic; it feels easy. It's just sandwiches, they won't take long.

She hears Megamind rustling around somewhere near the bathroom and raises her voice. "Mustard?"

"No mustard!"

"Cheese?"

"No cheese!"

She hesitates. "Just ham and mayo on toast?"

"Yes!"

Laughing to herself, she shrugs and makes two ham-and-mayo-on-toast sandwiches. Fine by her if she doesn't have to thaw out more cheese; handling that for her own sandwich earlier was an adventure. Still, cheeseless sandwiches?

…Oh, but he didn't want cheese on his eggs, either, she remembers. Maybe he doesn't like cheese? Or maybe cheese has something in it that's bad for his system? Lactose? Something else?

I should probably ask about food sensitivities at some point, she thinks.

She leaves the sandwiches on a plate on the counter for him, and then she goes back out to the living room with all its huge windows. The sun is fully down now, and the few clouds that have formed high overhead are lavender-gray, and stars are coming out. Yeah, a fire in the fireplace sounds fantastic.

She brings in wood from the woodpile, with the shower hissing down the hall. She opens the flue, follows the checklist from the instruction binder. Twists newspapers from the box beside the hearth into sticks to arrange under the dry wood, breaks kindling down to size. Strikes a match from the box on the mantelpiece and lights the newspaper.

Crouching at the hearth, she watches where the fire starts to gather in the tinder, then adds more kindling, piece by piece, blowing into it the whole time.

Finally she sits back on her heels, grinning. Ha! One match! Roxanne has always been good at fire.

And, isn't there a stereo system? Here?

By the time Megamind comes padding back out in his slippers and pajamas, she's got two logs solidly burning, a very cozy ring of heat pouring out from the hearth, and Cat Stevens on the stereo—she hadn't recognized a lot of the CDs here, but they had Tea for the Tillerman, so that was some luck. It's a good album.

Megamind's eyes light up. "Oh! You made a fire!"

"Yep! Sandwiches are there on the counter for you."

"And you made two!" He swings back for his plate, and pulls a soda out of the fridge. Holds it up to show her, and then tucks it under his arm and grabs another for himself when she nods.

He hands her the root beer, then walks completely past the sofa and all the squashy recliners and armchairs to plop himself down on the rug in front of the fire to eat. "Thank you, Roxanne," he says, looking up at her with shining, tired eyes, sounding entirely too sincere. He bites into a sandwich. "This 's perfect."

She laughs. "I'm glad! Yeah, you looked pretty cold when you came in. And the internet says it's supposed to get down into the forties tonight. I've turned the furnace on, so we should sleep warm, at least, but it'll be a while until everything warms up in here."

"You're so good," he says, sounding fond. "You think of everything."

"Well, I've done this before."

Still, as she says it, it occurs to her—she probably wouldn't have bothered with all this, if it was just her. She'd have found a Ramada or a Best Western, or something. Even if she did come all the way out here to this place, she wouldn't have gone swimming. Or made the fire, probably. She would have sat with her book and watched the stars come out, and she would have been happy, but it wouldn't have been nearly as much fun.

Megamind is sitting with his back to the fire and the wall of windows. Roxanne grins.

"You should turn around," she tells him. "There's not a lot of light pollution; the stars out here are amazing."

But, to her surprise, he shakes his head. "Can't risk it," he says. "I don't…handle stars very well. Not without a lot of clouds to break them up."

"Aw. That's sad."

He shrugs, rueful. "Comes of having seen too many of them at once when I was very small, I suspect," he says. "I didn't know where I was going, or if I would be able to survive there. All I knew was my planet was gone and my sun had collapsed and everything was wrong. And there were too many stars."

Oh, god, that's right. She had forgotten.

"Oof," she says, with a sympathetic wince. "Yeah, I can…definitely see how that would be…not good. Well, best not turn around, then."

He glances up at her, sends her a sly grin that she misses because she's still gazing out the windows, and says, "Besides, the—" and then his eyes kind of bug out and he bursts into a storm of coughing and has to chug root beer. "Um!" he says, coughs subsiding and wide eyes catching the light from the kitchen. "Besides! The! House has so many things to look at in this direction. I have never seen…dead…animals, before. Hanging on the walls."

Roxanne laughs. "Oh, the trophies," she says. "Yeah. Basically standard decor, at places like this. You saw that big mud room, back there? With the tile? That's probably for dressing game."

"How delightfully macabre."

Good save, self, Megamind thinks, picking up the rest of his sandwich again. He very nearly said besides, the view from here is so much nicer, but that would be, aha ha, way too much. WAY too obviously uncomfortably direct, coming from the supervillain with whom Roxanne has trapped herself, all these miles from nowhere.

On the sofa, Roxanne has gone back to her book, humming absently, singing along under her breath. Miles from nowhere—not a soul in sight—

Megamind turns, chewing, and he does look outside. Not at the sky, but at everything else. The lake is dark, but sparkling with moonlight. The trees are edged silver, moving in the wind he can't feel from where he's tucked away in this cozy space. He doesn't have to look at the sky. He can feel it overhead, empty and endless, but—he's okay. He's on the ground, on this faded rug in front of this crackling fire. He has his dinner, and Roxanne on the sofa nodding to the music. I have my freedom; I can make my own rules—

Oh yes.

This is good.

"Here," Roxanne says, and Megamind looks back to her. She's holding out a big throw pillow, gesturing like she's about to toss it. "Here, sit on this?"

He nods, and catches it, and shifts to put it under his butt. His degree of comfort increases significantly.

"Thank you," he says again, belatedly.

"Uh-huh!"

He finishes his sandwiches, and after a while, he feels the lingering chill begin to ease out of his bones. The shower helped, but he really was in the lake far longer than he should have been. The fire is better.

"Roxanne," he says as another song ends, remembering something he wondered about. Probably he can ask her. Maybe she'll know.

"Hmm?"

"Question for you," he says. "I heard something, earlier. On the lake. Do you know what it is that goes," and he howls softly in his resonance chambers. A gentle wail, lifting and then falling off.

Roxanne sits up, staring at him. "Do that again."

He repeats it. Three notes, low-high—low, hollow and shivering. "Do you know what it is?" he asks when he finishes, although he suspects from the expression she's wearing that she probably does.

"Yep. The same thing also makes," tapping something into her phone, "this noise, when it's alarmed."

It's another set of three notes, but the high middle note carries an eerie, quavering tremolo. Megamind echoes it, then cocks his head as Roxanne gets up and goes to the bookshelf. She pulls something down and comes back over to him paging through it after checking the index.

"It's this," she says after a moment, holding it out.

He sits up and peers at the page. "A bird! A very fashionable bird."

"I've never met anyone who could do a loon call like that," she says. "Do you think it's still out there? Could you…oh, the stars. Never mind."

But Megamind nods and gets to his feet. "I can go outside," he says. "For a little while. I just won't look up. We can see if it's still around—it's still a little bit light out."

'A little bit light out' is being generous. The sky to the west is purple yet, and pink on the flat horizon. But the whole of the sky is drawing indigo down after the sun, and the moon in the north is rising.

The air is so much colder now, with the sun down and the October breeze rustling in the birches. All of the insects from earlier have gone silent. But the lake laps at the ground beneath the deck, and Megamind leans on the railing and lifts his voice into the loon's shivering call again, with Roxanne standing next to him looking around. His voice echoes across the water.

He tries a few times. Nothing answers.

"Ah well," she says. "I guess they've probably gone to bed."

"Mm. That is a shame! I wanted to see one. I thought, maybe a wolf? But it didn't sound like the wolves in the movies."

She laughs a little, holds the door for him to go back inside. "No, I don't think you're likely to hear any wolves. But you'll hear loons pretty often on a lake like this."

"They sound lonely," he says. "They sound like they're crying."

"Restless, mad-eyed divers," she says. "That's what my uncle always called them. I'd have liked to see one, too, but…oh, well."

Megamind looks back over his shoulder as they return to the warmth of the cabin.

Roxanne goes to bed hours before Megamind does, while the moon is still high. She says goodnight to him and she leaves her book on the side table. He tells her he'll watch the fire burn down, and he does. Perching on his cushion with his arms around his knees, gazing into the low flames as they fall away to embers, lost in thought.

He'll treasure this. Today, tonight. This trip. He'll take the fire's warmth into his bones as it dies and carry it with him into his lonely future. Loon-hearted alien, someday crying for this beautiful past he is building with Roxanne.

The tablet he brought with him rests by his leg, its screen dark. He had meant to do work tonight. He had meant to make his plans, tweak his blueprints. Get some kind of plot ready for when he gets back to Metro next weekend. Instead, he…sits. The stereo is quiet. Outside, stars and chilly lake. Inside, Roxanne and warmth. And Megamind, cold-hearted, loon-voiced, and the dying fire.

His chest hurts, which is nothing new, but at least tonight the hurt is because his empty heart is so achingly full.

The fire dies, and Megamind finally scatters out the embers and then rises and goes away to bed instead of working. He passes the closed door where Roxanne is asleep just one room over from his, and finds his own mattress has a lovely squishy topper on it, and a pillow that fits well enough behind his head and under his neck. He pulls the curtains tightly closed against the roaring void of the sky. He's asleep only a minute or so after his head hits the pillow, and he falls asleep smiling.

Chapter Text

The sun creeps up pale gold on the clouds and across the water the next morning. In the house, all is quiet—darkness fades and resolves itself into long shadows, shrinking away over the hardwood floors, the paneling, the covers of the mostly-empty beds. 

In her sleep, Roxanne rolls over, away from the window. She hadn’t bothered pulling the blinds last night; she wanted to look up at the stars. Now she burrows back down into her pillows with a sigh and pulls the covers up over her eyes.

Megamind sleeps on his back; he always does. He doesn’t sleep long; he never does. He sleeps surprisingly well for being in a strange bed, but he wakes with the sun despite his tightly-drawn curtains and is immediately and fully awake, because—was that—

Yes.

A plan slams into his head and his eyes light with excitement as soon as they pop open and pin down against the dawn.

He scrambles up out of bed.

"Roxanne!"

She grumbles and hugs her blankets tighter to her chest, squeezing her eyes closed against the morning. A cold hand grips her arm and jiggles her, shakes her.

"Roxanne," says Megamind’s voice, low but insistent, "wake up! You have to see! Roxanne!"

"Mmrpghtlgh," she says, "mmbhuh?"

Blinking, bleary-eyed, she lifts her head. Her door is open and Megamind is looming over her with his teeth in his lip and his mouth curved in his Cheshire cat smile. First time seeing him like this at this hour. First time seeing him at all at this hour. What is she meant to be seeing? She squints, uncomprehending.

"You have to see," he says again, shaking her, "you said you wanted to see! Come on come on come on!"

"Time’zit," she yawns as she sits up.

"Five forty-seven. You can go back to sleep after. Come on!"

She sniffles and grabs her hoodie off the foot of her bed and shrugs into it as she follows Megamind out into the dawn. Oh, god, the light is thin but it’s still so bright. What’s happening? She was asleep. She was in her warm bed and now she’s stumbling through this unfamiliar house with its unfamiliar shadows in the unforgiving sunlight, with her…her friendly goddamned neighborhood supervillain tugging insistently on her hand.

He says, "Here," and nudges shoes at her, and Roxanne scoots her feet into them—ooo, they’re soft—and then she lets him pull her out onto the porch with him. His bony fingers are freezing.

"Look! Look over there," he says, pointing across the lake to where it bends around the trees.

Roxanne squints. "What’s…"

Megamind opens his mouth and calls beside her, throat fluttering with his shivering loon’s song. He does this twice. And this time…

An answering call, echoing over the lake. Roxanne’s eyebrows go up and she shakes herself a little bit awake. "Oh!"

The alien beside her sings out again, and beams at the answer. Across the lake, a dark head vanishes under the water.

"They’ve been coming closer and closer," he tells her in an undertone. "There’s two of them. They’re so pretty!" And, sure enough, when the loon surfaces again, it’s a lot closer, wet head shining in the sunlight. Another bird is visible as well, farther off.

"Did you know," Roxanne says, through her yawn, "did you know. They can only take off from water? Their legs are so far back on their bodies they can’t get up to speed on land."

"Really! I did not know that. Fish birds!" He calls again and laughs when the bird replies.

Blinking sleepily, Roxanne grins at his happy face. It’s barely dawn and Megamind is bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, staring across the lake, leaning out over the porch railing. She hates that she’s awake, but she loves that he woke her for this—she really wasn't expecting something like this from him when they left Metro. He gasps suddenly, and points, and oh, one of them has finally surfaced barely fifteen feet out. It’s a surprisingly large bird. Roxanne has never seen one this close; she can see every beautiful dappled mark on its back, every white bar on its neck. Its scarlet eye.

As if reading her mind, Megamind says, "Oh, I see why your uncle called them mad-eyed."

"Mad of eye, sad of cry," she says, "this bird’s a diver—as am I."

"I like that," he says. Sends her a sort of wry smile over his shoulder. "How relatable. He was a diver?"

She nods. "Yeah, he, um. He swam a lot. Um." She yawns again. Squints down at the bird as it vanishes—oh, not vanishes, actually; the water is clear enough that she can see how it swims, that’s neat. Another thing she’s never seen before.

In a perfect world, Roxanne would make coffee and watch the sun climb, watch the loons on the lake. But…

"I’m…really sorry, I think I…I gotta go back to sleep." She laughs a little in chagrin, stifling a yawn. "This was super cool, very worth it, thank you for waking me up, but. Bed."

Megamind laughs too. "Yes, yes, you go to bed. Sleep well. What are your feelings on nutella and bananas?"

Thrown, she shakes her head. "Um…positive? I think? I don’t think we have those in the box…"

"No, no. Just wondering. I was just wondering! Ah, may I have my slippers before you go? I want to stay out here a while longer."

Roxanne looks down. Oh. He gave her his slippers. They have—silly little bat wings, and angry red eyes. Adorable.

"Aw. Yeah, here, sorry. Okay good night—morning—bye," she says, and stumbles back inside with her feet cramping on the cold deck and Megamind laughing at her as she goes.

Loons! He called them in so she could see. He’s so sweet. She’s so lucky. She’ll have to thank him better later, tell him she’s never seen them so close. This really was cool.

She faceplants into her pillow and drags the covers up with a groan and she’s out like a light fifteen seconds later.

A few hours after that, her alarm goes off, and Roxanne swims back up to the land of the living feeling much better-rested. The light is different, more familiar with the sun higher in the sky. She stretches, hums, and rolls out of bed to get dressed. Check-out is at ten, so they’ve got about an hour or so. Megamind is already up, she knows that much.

She brushes her teeth, washes her face. Her hair is a little bit flat on one side but that’s fine, it’s just Megamind who’ll see her; he won’t mind. Well, and whatever strangers they run into, but she doesn’t care about them.

Re-packing is always easier than packing from scratch. She throws everything into her bag, strips the sheets from the bed according to the place’s instructions, and drags her suitcase back out into the main area of the house, where…

Megamind waves to her from one of the seats at the dining table. "Oh! Roxanne! You’re up! Fantastic timing, come and have breakfast."

Something smells amazing.

"What?" she laughs, abandoning her bag in favor of the table. There’s a takeout container of fresh waffles covered in sliced bananas and brown stuff, and she remembers his question from earlier. "Megamind! Where did you get this?"

"There is a restaurant about five minutes down the road at speed," he says around a mouthful of nutella and sweet bread. "With a breakfast selection. And so I acquired breakfast! I got back maybe five minutes ago."

"Oh you beautiful genius, thank you," she says, dropping herself into her chair and reaching for the fork he set for her as he laughs.

"Also, coffee," he says, pushing a mug over to her.

"Beautiful beautiful genius," she declares, seizing it. He's made it the way she likes. "Best possible travel buddy, I’m bringing you everywhere with me after this, oh my god, yay coffee."

Megamind snorts. "Careful, I’ll hold you to that."

"Mmm. Oh wow, this is. So good." She digs into her waffles. They’re crispy everywhere the nutella hasn’t been melting over them, and the bananas are a fantastic compliment, and there’s whipped cream as well. Roxanne is not always into sweet breakfast, she’s usually more of an eggs-and-bacon lady, but this is seriously fantastic and she is not about to complain. Not with Megamind so adorably pink-eared and looking so proud of himself at the praise, and hot fresh breakfast waiting for her as a surprise.

"So," she says, "it’s going to be a while before I’m totally awake, do you mind taking first shift driving? Check out is at ten."

"I can do that," he says. "How do we check out of here?"

"Pretty much just text the owner," she says. "We need to make sure any dishes are in the dishwasher and the sheets and stuff are in the washing machine. Someone will be along later today to throw them over and finish tidying, or a cleaning company will be."

He nods. He’s quiet for a few moments, chewing, then asks, "Where are we staying tonight?"

"Mm! How familiar are you with the concept of a bed and breakfast?"

Megamind wrinkles his face. "It sounds self-explanatory," he says, sounding very suspicious. "I suspect it is not, if you’re asking. I assume it contains…beds? And breakfast?"

She laughs a little. "It’s like a hotel, but smaller," she says. "Usually it’s a kind of big house, with a lot of rooms, and the people who live there prepare breakfast and sometimes other meals, as well."

"Hm." He frowns. "So, other people."

Roxanne nods. "Yeah. I figured it might be a good idea to do a kind of…more personable, low-key trial run before we get to the venue? The place looks really nice, and we'll be sharing a bathroom."

"Hm," he says again, but it’s a slightly more interested ‘hm’ this time, "it does sound promising!"

"It’ll be a little different," she says, "but I hope you’ll like it."

He pauses. "Will you like it? Also?"

"Huh? Yeah, probably." She cocks her head. "I’m not going to get us rooms somewhere I think I won’t like."

"I would hope not," he says. "Did you enjoy this place?"

She nods hard. "Yeah! Yeah, definitely. I’d love to come back here someday, maybe in the summer with my family. Dad would love fishing here. My aunt Irma could watch birds. The place is definitely big enough for everyone, and…" She pauses for a moment, counting in her head and then nodding. "And I think it’s probably even big enough that you’d have a room, too, if Drew and I buddy up. Of course, that’s assuming my mother does not murder you," she adds, "which, you know. Fingers crossed, ha."

Megamind snorts, but he looks very startled. "Oh? You—oh. You would come back here with—me? With me?"

"I mean, yeah. Why not?" She shrugs. "It’s a shame you didn’t get to swim very much yesterday. You should spend more time here, earlier in the year when it’s warmer. And we could bring Minion!"

He nods. "That—does sound—nice. That sounds nice."

"No promises, obviously," she says, "but I think it’d be fun."

They eat for a while in companionable silence, in the morning sunlight streaming in through the windows. Roxanne stares into space, thinking of…oh, everything and nothing, the road ahead and the day’s route, the chores to do before locking up their rental here in Missouri, wondering if she shouldn’t just handwash and dry and put away the dishes because there are so few of them, it hardly seems worth it to run the dishwasher…

And, of course, thinking of the wedding and her upcoming stay at a different venue in the middle of nowhere. Or—not nowhere, the place isn't even an hour from Las Vegas. But the photos sure looked like the middle of nowhere. She’s excited to see her friend, and apprehensive about being in a room full of villains and supervillains and henchman, some of whom will definitely be—

"I’d like that," Megamind says, quiet, and Roxanne blinks and looks up.

"Hm?"

"I would—like. That." He looks very stiff, sort of glaring at his empty takeout container and fiddling with his fork. "Seeing your family. Doing things. Together with you. I’d like that."

She hesitates for a moment, studying his face and wondering if she missed some cue or other. He doesn’t seem…happy? But…well, but probably it's not a variety of quasi-invitation he receives terribly often, if ever. Roxanne knows from talking with Minion, they've both met some of their uncles' family members, but Megamind hasn't been forthcoming at all on the subject and she knows better than to dig where family is concerned, with him.

"I’d like it too," she says. "You and Minion are a lot of fun."

"Anxious," he says, "undersocialized. Practically feral."

"A lot of fun," she says, firm. "Seriously, we should hang out more. I like you guys."

"Since when," he says, "since when? I don’t—"

"God, I don’t know," she groans, "since a while ago? It’s not like there was a specific moment. Since before you turned up in my shower, at least. Have you thought I was just…barely tolerating you, this whole time? Until, like, a month or two ago?"

He shrugs.

"Megamind!"

"Well forgive me if I don’t assume I am liked," he says flatly. "That is something of a rarity for me."

"I don’t see why; you’re great. And I don’t play MarioKart with people I don’t like. Are you done with your mug and your fork?"

He nods, and she gathers them up and takes them to the sink. "You go strip your bed," she says. "Pull all the covers and sheets off, and the pillowcases, and put them in the washing machine with mine."

"And turn it on?"

"Yes. With…probably a quarter-cap of detergent. I can do it if you aren’t sure."

"I can manage," he says stiffly, and rises.

(He can indeed manage, by frantically sending Minion's pictures of what he's looking at and chewing his lip waiting for replies, hoping hoping hoping Roxanne does not come looking for him and catch him uselessly dithering.

Megamind can tell himself as much as he likes, he does not care about being helpful, it is a worthless-pointless-lost-cause even to bother trying. But. Roxanne is, it seems, an exception here as well.

And an exception to prior experience, as she always is. He shows her the running laundry machine, shows off the settings he chose—he doesn't want to show her at all, but if he is wrong and it breaks, it will reflect poorly on Roxanne who made the reservation, and Minion wasn't familiar with the model, so Megamind swallows his pride and trepidation and puffs himself up and preens—waiting waiting waiting to be shot down—it's fine he's fine—he doesn't care (he cares SO MUCH, UGH)—

"Oh, nice," she says, "the second rinse cycle was a good idea, it'll buy a little more time for whoever is coming to finish up later. Thanks for getting that started for me."

"Ahahaha yes I am a genius," says Megamind, head spinning at no scolding? did it right? good idea? thanks? and he trots away from the machine with his heart in his mouth and a spring in his step from his unexpected success.)

All in all, wrapping up the tidying and closing up the house goes smoothly, and by the time they get on the road, they’re both much more awake and cheerful.

"I have to say," Roxanne says, smiling down at the cars zipping away underneath them, settling in with Megamind at the helm as he takes them back out to the highway, "it’s funny. I keep thinking about what kid-me would think of today-me."

"Wildly jealous that you got to see loons up close this morning, I would imagine!"

She laughs. "Jealous of the waffles, too! But I was actually referring to the company."

He glances at her. "Oh?"

"Not in a bad way! I just…I don’t think any kid really expects to be friends with a supervillain when they grow up, you know?"

"Ah."

"Did you? As a kid, I mean?"

Megamind wiggles a hand. "Eventually," he says. "Yes. I was…in my teens and expecting to…well I would not say be friends with, but. Associate with in friendly ways. Ally myself with."

Oh.

She bites her lip. "Right," she says. "I…yeah, I forgot you started all this pretty young. Basically right out of high school, right?"

"Oh I dropped out of shool," he scoffs. "Made it most of the way through, but. Circumstances conspired to force me out. But—but I didn’t need it, anyway! It was fine."

Roxanne frowns. "It was…fine?"

"Yes! I had an apprenticeship! Quite an enviable one, as well—there were several other hopefuls in the running, but—well. My mentor and I—we were—we had similar backgrounds. Unfortunate beginnings? And, and we knew each other, a little, by that point. He said I was younger than he would usually take on, but I had such potential! And I, I needed—well, and the timing was right, so—never looked back!"

Roxanne frowns harder. She's known Megamind for years now and this is the first she's ever heard of…an apprenticeship? Some kind of mentor? Other hopefuls?

…The timing?

"How young?" she says. She shuffles out of her shoes and pulls her legs up to sit cross-legged, then reaches into the snack box for some pretzels. Breakfast was sweet in every sense of the word; she needs salt. "And sorry, wait, who are we talking about? Anyone I know of?"

Megamind glances over at her, then swiftly returns his attention to the road. His hesitation is subtle, but—

"Machiavillain first reached out to me in middle shool," he replies, grinning. "I told him to fuck off. I didn’t need his help, I didn’t need anybody’s help. I told him off again a year later when we crossed paths unexpectedly and he asked how I was, if I needed shoes. Mine were…very ratty."

…Huh.

Roxanne has approximately one million questions, but Megamind did hesitate before offering details, and this is wild; she's always heard he was a solo act. Aside from a brief period early in his career when he tried to bring some of Metro's other, smaller-time villains on board with some kind of alliance, he keeps to himself and he plays his hand close. The idea of Megamind entering an alliance with anyone these days is a joke; it's him and Minion and no one else and they do not play nicely with others.

"This isn’t one of those ‘well now you know too much and I have to kill you’ things, is it?" she asks, wary.

Megamind recoils. "What?"

"I have literally never heard any of this," she says through a mouthful of pretzel. 

He pauses. Grimaces. "Well it isn’t exactly public knowledge," he admits. "It…never was. He was very particular about that."

"Was he."

"Very particular, yes. But you—you’ve told me a lot, about your growing-up years," he says, sounding just a little bit defensive, "and I—and I—don’t like looking back on my beginnings, but—I don’t mind telling you. I don’t mind. I am certainly not going to kill you for it!"

"Is he going to kill me for it?"

"I doubt it," Megamind says. "He’s gone."

The way his tone flattens slightly tells her she’s better off not asking questions about that one.

"So, your…shoes," she says. "He sent you new ones? I assume?"

"He did. Yes. I refused to wear them." He sighs. "He left me alone after that, for a few years. Turned up again when I was sixteen. He had heard I was…hurt. He was horrified. Offered to help me recover, asked if I had anything I could use to protect myself. Offered me access to his design and fabrication facilities. Gave me my first ray gun."

"That was…kind of him," Roxanne says. 

Megamind nods. "That was also more or less when I started truly building towards active villainy. Instead of just talking about it. Machiavillain was correct from the beginning; with the way things were going, it…seemed to be what I was destined for. I had already found the old power plant that turned into Evil Lair and bought it, so I offered him the space as well…

"Anyway," he says, abrupt, "yes. I did expect to ally myself with villains, as a still-technically-kid."

Roxanne has been listening while glancing through Machiavillain’s Wikipedia page. He had his base of operations in Miami first, before relocating to Metro around the time the spaceport was finished. She does vaguely remember something about a guy with silvery hair that seemed to operate under troll doll physics, but she was in her early teens at the time and not really paying attention.

"He wasn’t super active as a villain, was he," she murmurs.

"Hm? Oh, no. Not at that point. He left most of his villainy behind in Florida; he was more active as Overlord, in those days. Or, trying to be. There was a lot to do before he could actually take command."

She swallows. "Huh. And—and you said you had already been aiming for villainy? By the time he moved into Evil Lair?"

"I announced my intentions years prior," Megamind says. "Middle sh—school. And he didn't truly move in, not—not fully. He maintained several lairs across Metro."

There’s a pit in her stomach. "Middle school. Was that before or after he turned up the first time?"

"Hm?" He glances over at her, brows tugging together. "Why?"

"Humor me."

"…After," he says. "He…heard I was interested in the industry, he checked into my background a little, he reached out. To, ah, to offer me guidance, if I wanted it. I didn’t want it, of course, as I said," he laughs. "Not at that point. I still wanted—to—I wanted to make my own way. But, but I am grateful he kept trying!" he quickly adds. "I wouldn’t be who I am without him. And I helped him, too! Inspired him, he said! His Mega-muse. I had so many ideas, and he actually had the materials and machines to build them. And the background to teach me how to really showcase them!"

Relocated to Metro City in 1987 with little more than a guitar, a costume, and a boxcar of equipment intended for the junkyard, Roxanne reads. Immediately made a name for himself in certain circles…in December 1994 deposed the then-Overlord of Metro, Aston Waltt, who would briefly rise to power again in the leadership vacuum following Machiavillain’s sudden disappearance five years later…

He heard Megamind was interested in villainy? Before he announced his intent? How?

"I was lucky," Megamind is saying. "The screw-up, the black sheep, studying under Machiavillain? His protegee? The first stroke of real luck I had. He was brilliant. He knew my destiny as soon as he saw me," Megamind tells her. "Like I said, I wasn’t so sure at first, but…well," he gestures at himself with a laugh, "Exhibit A. I figured it out early. A villain's life for me! Never looked back! Ha!"

Roxanne swallows. "So," she says, "um. Help me out with the timeline, here. This guy comes to Metro when you’re still a kid, starts trying to establish himself there basically as soon as he lands. You’re…how old in eighty-seven?"

"Eleven."

"Okay, so sixteen, that would have been…what, nineteen ninety-two? How on earth did he hear you were hurt?"

Megamind shrugs. "Knowing things was kind of his schteeck," he says. "I have no idea how he knew most of the things he knew."

"And…you were recovering? When he contacted you?"

"I had been recently venting my spleen on a couple of the city’s crime bosses," he admits. "I could barely talk but I was fucking done letting them just do as they pleased in my city."

The pit in her stomach has become a knot. Fun! "That’s right," she says, in spite of this, "you mentioned you were hurt. So, something happened to your voice? What—"

She falters. Megamind’s expression has just gone very ugly and his knuckles have turned white where he’s gripping the control rods. The little aircraft they’re in shudders.

"—uh. What—did—you want to be when you grew up when you were really little?"

He blinks. Glances over at her. Roxanne gives him a tiny shrug and a—mouth—thing, she isn’t even sure what. Just, just—trying to tell him, we can skip over that, it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me. We can ignore it.

And his voice when he speaks sounds more or less normal. "Before I decided on villainy, you mean? I considered going to college." He shrugs, too, more deliberately. "College, university, whatever. Research—freelancing probably. All those normal things normal people do." His lip curls. "Stupid."

"Ooo, what did you want to research?"

"…Everything." Incredibly, the corner of his mouth she can see pulls into a smile that does honestly look genuine, if wry. "I wanted to know everything. The world is a—a dynamic mess of jiggling things, ha. And I wanted to understand all of it."

"Seems like you’ve made pretty good headway on that even without university," Roxanne says, venturing a teasing tone.

"Ha! Yes. For the most part." The stress is ebbing out of the way he’s holding his shoulders. "But I was fortunate. I figured out my destiny comparatively early."

Roxanne—

—hesitates.

"Your destiny," she says. "That’s…another thing you mentioned earlier. Can I ask…?"

He sighs again and briefly takes a hand off a control rod to gesture with what appears to be mild frustration. "My father said I was destined for something as my spacepod’s doors were closing. I assume I must be; I was the only one to make it out alive. Well, and Minion."

"And the thing you were destined for was villainy?"

"Supervillainy, thank you," he says, sounding very offended.

"Supervillainy, right, sorry. Just…"

"And I am good enough at it that my pawn has asked me to be her bodyguard for multiple days, so, yes, I’ll call that destiny and I will be delighted with it," he continues, with an almost alarming sudden grin. "If I can get you home alive from this, it’ll be the greatest thing I’ll ever do! Ah—what—did you want to be? When you were very small?"

"Me? In kindergarten I wanted to be a ballerina. And then I was going into physics, originally. Um. You—Minion was worried about that, too," she says, "about someone dying at this wedding. Do you really think that’s…?"

"It’s much more likely to be someone in the wedding party than any of the guests," he says. "And, who knows! Perhaps everything will go smoothly. We’ll play it safe."

But when did you commit to villainy, Roxanne wants to ask. You mentioned it in middle school—where? Where did this guy hear about you? How did he know? And—you still wanted to make your own way, at that point; were you REALLY fully committed to this in middle school?

It seems absurd.

But it also seems like…a potentially touchy subject. Potentially sensitive.

"What kind of physics?"

"Hm?"

"You said you were studying physics," Megamind says. "What kind?"

"Uh…photonics."

He pauses, then bursts into wide-eyed laughter. "No wonder you figured out the invisible car!"

"I mean, it’s not like I got a degree in it!" she exclaims, feeling her face heat. "It’s not like I just looked at it and thought oh, that’s Snell’s Law, obviously."

"I didn’t get a degree in it either," Megamind exclaims. "I figured it out on my own, same as you!"

"Yes, but you built it!"

He rolls his eyes heavenward and shakes his head.

Roxanne stares at him. "What."

"If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not telling you."

"What!"

"Nope. I said it once yesterday."

"…What?"

Megamind grins.

"Tell me!"

"No!"

The trees and grasses are rolling past, roadside advertisements flash by at ridiculous speeds. Roxanne doesn't actually realize she's made a noise until Megamind glances over and says, "Hm?"

"What?"

"You sounded about to say something." His mouth curls up at the corners and he swerves them gently side-to-side over the road. "Critiquing my driving, perhaps?"

Roxanne huffs a laugh. "No, your driving is fine. Much smoother than mine. Sorry, force of habit—we just passed the exit back there for the World's Largest Ball of Twine."

"The what?"

"I wanted to see it when I was a kid," she says. "I don't know, it sounded neat. And kinda weird. Who cares that much about twine? So I used to bug my parents when I saw the signs. Every time."

"Did you ever go?"

She shakes her head. "They always said it was too far out of our way. It'd add too much time. It was just silly."

Megamind doesn't say anything to that. He looks at her for a moment, then turns back to the road ahead. Then he makes a face, wrinkling his nose in what looks like confusion, and sort of—tilts his head—

"Do you remember what town it's in?"

"Cawker City, I think. Kansas." She peers over at him—his eyes are twitching in their sockets, the muscles around them are twitching as well. "Why? Are you okay?"

"—Yep," he says. He slouches and squeezes his whole face down for a moment—and then he pops his eyes back open and snaps upright. "Aha! I do know where that is!"

And, to her absolute shock, he hauls back and cranks the control rods and whips them around in midair, accelerating back up the road.

"What—Megamind no, it's just some silly tourist trap! We don't have to—"

"That's your parents talking," he says, with a sparkling, shit-eating grin. "And they sound like no fun at all, we're going to see a big ball of horrible scratchy fiber!"

"No, but you'll hate it," she insists, trying to keep from laughing—with—delight, confusion, shock, embarrassment—she isn't sure. Her face is too warm and her stomach just swooped uncomfortably and— "It's going to be so boring! You won't have anything to do, it's…"

She falters. Megamind has just sent her the most scornful expression she's ever seen. "I'm not going there for me," he says, sounding deeply offended that she might ever think this would be the case, and zips away down the exit they passed before.

Roxanne’s chest is tight and her face is too hot and her stomach has pulled into a knot and she doesn't know why. It doesn't make sense. It's just. So stupid.

"We really don't have to," she hears herself say.

Megamind opens his mouth to say, no, I want to, but he looks over at his companion as he starts to speak. And he pauses. Her voice just then sounded…unlike her.

Roxanne is sitting with her shoulders rounded and her hands twisting in her lap, picking at her nails. Her face is red and her mouth is frowning but her eyes look more like she's about to cry, which…

Does she not want to go? No. She hasn't said that. She's said he won't like it, she's said they don't have to. She does still want to go, he's almost certain. And he told her already, this isn't for him, so why is she still saying we don't have to? He knows they don't HAVE to. That's OBVIOUS.

…Roxanne does not typically state the obvious. Come on, Megamind, think.

We don't have to is sometimes code for I don't want to, he knows that already. And sometimes it's code for please confirm whether YOU want to, he knows that, too. But this…doesn't seem like either of those.

He frowns out at the road, thinking. He's good at thinking. And he's not always good at people, but he is getting pretty good at Roxanne, and…

Often, when he comes over, she's working. She'll play video games with him sometimes, but that's when he's there. He has received the distinct impression that if he wasn't there, she probably would just go to bed. And then she would go to work. She reads sometimes, too, but…

When she told him about Salt Lake City, it sounded like a special occasion. Like something she really was not expecting to happen. And she was so upset about making a mistake when she was learning to fly. So delighted with swimming, and breakfast this morning, and the loons. And yesterday, she said—we mostly just kept driving. And she was so worried—is still worried—about him not having fun.

She complained to him once, in November a couple years back, about her parents asking for Christmas lists every year. She had sounded oddly bitter about it. Megamind had chalked it up to holiday stress at the time, just one more thing on top of everything else, but…

She was so excited about this high-speed road trip. The idea reminded her of nice things, good memories. But even good memories are often mixed with pain. Megamind knows that better than anyone, and a vague idea of Roxanne’s younger years is beginning to take shape.

Sometimes he forgets he isn’t the only one who never got the things he really wanted.

"Hmm," he says, instead of no, I want to go, I don’t care if I’m bored. "I disagree."

"Huh?"

"We do have to go. It's important."

She blinks at him, brows furrowing. "It really is just a silly pile of twine," she says. "It's…we really don't have to."

He shakes his head, glancing back and forth between her and the road ahead. "No. You want to. That's important."

Roxanne is quiet for a long time after that. Megamind waits, against his better judgment. He's pretty sure his better judgment is wrong, in this case. More words won't be helpful.

Finally she says, "Do you want to go?"

Not the point. Very very much not the point. But also unsurprising that she would ask, and he sighs through his nose, exasperated. "I think perhaps I have been unclear," he says. "I want to go where you want to go, because what you want is important."

"It…it's really not, though," she begins, and then backtracks at the expression he sends her in response to that. "Not—like that, just—it's just some silly tourist trap!"

"That does not improve what you just said."

"You know what I meant—"

"Yes, what you meant was apparently that you aren't supposed to want silly things, that you're meant to dismiss silly things! Why can't you want silly things and then do them? Why is that not important?"

She gapes at him, stammers for a moment. "I—but it's—it will add time, though, and—"

"We are traveling at a hundred and fifty miles an hour."

She's quiet.

But she's quiet pretty loudly, and finally Megamind rolls his eyes. "Oh, for—fine. Fine. What you want is important to me." He looks over at her and cocks an eyebrow, thins his lips. So irritating that he's being forced to lay it out like this, honestly; SO rude. "Okay? It is important to me, and I'm driving, so we're going."

He turns away and glares back out the windshield.

In his peripheral vision, he sees Roxanne slowly relax.

"…Oh," she says. There's a note in her voice he isn't sure how to read, but it doesn't sound like a bad one. "Oh, I…wait, really? You're sure?"

"I have very politely allowed you to second-guess me on this several times now," he warns. "Allow me to remind you that my patience is not an infinite resource."

"…Right," she says. "Sorry."

"I should hope so. Say 'thank you, Megamind.'"

Roxanne snorts into laughter at that, oh thank evil. "Thank you, Megamind," she says, and he lights his face up for her.

"You are so very welcome!" he exclaims, beaming over at her. She's still laughing. "See? See! Wasn't that easy? Wasn't that so very painless?"

He's teasing, she knows. And it's a relief, honestly, because the people she's accustomed to traveling with would probably have already started snapping at her by now. She was starting to worry he really was getting upset, and then he pulled that snarky little say thank you and she knew—no, he’s just being a shit, as usual.

He's still smiling when he looks over at her again, but his teasing tone eases as he says, "I'm frequently told that I am, myself, a silly thing. Please don't dismiss me," and a sharp pain lances through the middle of her chest. "Silly things are still important, sometimes. Yes?"

Oh.

"Okay," she says. She still feels like she might cry, but…in a relieved way, now. "I'll try. I'm sorry. Thanks," she adds. "We—"

"Roxanne Calpurnia Ritchi, if you say we don't have to one more time, I am making you get out and walk."

She bursts out laughing.

"You think I'm joking! I'm not joking! I'll do it!"

"You are joking," she laughs. "Oh, stop."

"YOU stop! Just—let's just have fun with this, come on."

"Okay, okay."

This was the right decision. Absolutely the correct thing to do, Megamind is sure. Roxanne is smiling ear to ear the whole time, she's almost bouncing. He's never seen her like this.

And she seems—from her tone and the way she holds her eyes, she seems to be swinging back and forth between excitement and embarrassment. Or uncertainty. Megamind isn't always very good at distinguishing between the two, but thankfully it doesn't matter in this case; the way forward is the same: to make sure she knows it's okay to be here. Because really. Why wouldn’t it be okay?

Privately, very quietly to himself, he has to admit to some surprise. Roxanne is rock-solid in so many ways. She's stable in her life, even-keeled, confident in ways Megamind can only dream of for himself. And before today, before this trip, he would have sworn up and down that part of her confidence is because she knows what she wants and isn't afraid to ask or fight for it.

But now…well, he still doesn't think that's untrue, exactly. But maybe it's only with some things?

He was not expecting her to push back so hard on doing the silly fun thing she wanted to do as a kid. From the way she reacted, it was as though she thought it was wrong, somehow.

Nonsense. Absolute garbage.

The World’s Largest Ball of Twine is, as promised, very large, made of twine, and more or less ball-shaped, although it is less ‘spherical’ and more ‘a tightly-wound hump on the floor.’ Megamind watches Roxanne bounce up to the thing, beaming, and circle it, and he doesn't have to pretend at all to be having a good time, himself. Watching her is enough.

"Take my picture?" she asks, coming up and handing him her phone. "I want to send it to my mom, I want—"

"Yes, of course, go, go," he says. He shoos her back to stand in front of it.

And he gets a couple of shots, but then—rather abruptly—one of the younger teens peels away from their family and says, "Want me to get both of you?"

He freezes. "Um—"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Roxanne exclaims. "Megamind, come here! Thanks—"

"No problem," says the kid, "okay big smiles!"

Megamind's smile feels more startled and nervous, but then Roxanne puts her arm around his waist and tugs him stumbling against her side and he can’t help but laugh, and when the kid hands her phone back and jogs back away to their group, Roxanne scrolling through the photos says, "Aw, these are awesome!" So. That's okay, then.

From up close, he has to admit that the whole attraction is quite silly. It’s twine. Under a sort of pavilion, with a plaque and some public restrooms, and a vending machine under the pavilion roof and a chest freezer with a volunteer attendant sitting nearby on a stool. Someone is cooking burgers on a nearby charcoal grill; they don’t appear to be affiliated with any of this.

It really is just…twine. Scratchy string. In a public park.

But Roxanne wanted to go. And her parents likely didn’t, and so they didn’t go. It…picks at him. At the back of his mind. Most of the things Megamind wanted as a child and didn’t get were things the people who raised him simply could not give him. He understands that; he has always understood that. His uncles and warden gave him all the support they could, but other than simply being there, they really could not do much for him but let him know he was as deeply loved as a hodgepodge of emotionally stunted middle-aged prisoners could love him. Which was a lot, actually, it turned out. It was enough. Megamind survived.

But Roxanne had parents. They weren’t incredibly wealthy, it sounds like, but they had the means to travel by car at least. Fly to and from Metro and San Francisco. Take vacations. They could have given Roxanne the things she wanted, if they had wanted to—this thing, at least; it was free. The park didn’t even have a gate.

Venting to him about the Christmas list issue, Roxanne had said that when she was small, her first Christmas list was quite long. Not absurdly so, but long in comparison to her brother’s list, which was only a few things. Her parents had chastised her, she said. Don’t be greedy. Yes, Santa is magic, no, don’t ask for everything. Pick three or four things and leave it at that. 

Evidently that had stuck with her. Megamind is beginning to see why.

He shakes his head and then pauses and studies the ball of string for a moment. It looks scratchy. Bad to touch. Also, weirdly alluring?

He puts his hand on the twine—

—and then he immediately pulls a face and recoils. Ah, no thank you. It is exactly as bad to touch as he expected.

Rubbing his hand on his jeans to banish the sensation, he looks around for Roxanne. She has wandered over to the little informative plaque and appears to be reading over it. She's still smiling. Quietly, but still.

At his shoulder, a voice says, "You should get her ice cream," and Megamind very narrowly stops himself from punching the speaker in the teeth.

He turns his fight response into a particularly bad startle instead. "You—I should—what?"

"Get your girlfriend ice cream," says the tall boy with the cornrows, grinning at him, keeping his voice low. "It's three dollars. Bet she'd like it."

Megamind…hesitates.

Teenage boys, in his experience, do not offer helpful suggestions completely unprompted. Not to him. They offer suggestions that seem helpful but are actually mean jokes.

But this one is wearing a hoodie with Wallops Island Marine Sanctuary on it, which is points in his favor, and he doesn't look like he's hiding a laugh. And it's ice cream. How can ice cream go wrong?

Famous last words. Megamind has thought how can this possibly go wrong before a hundred times, shortly before he found out.

But Roxanne treated the other child's offer of photography as if it was completely normal, he remembers. And that turned out fine, right? So. Once more into the breach. Always, always, once more. Maybe this time it will be different.

"Sure," he says. "Thanks."

"Yup," says the kid, and keeps walking.

Megamind's stomach is twisting up into a queasy tangle as he gets cups of ice cream out of the freezer and gives cash to the volunteer. But…nothing bad happens, except for staring, which he’s used to. And when he approaches Roxanne and clears his throat, she turns and looks and sees the treat, and she lights up.

"Aw!" she exclaims. "You got—aw, thank you!"

Oh hooray, okay, nothing bad appears to be forthcoming. Holy shit. Success? Maybe? Megamind grins at her and sketches a half-bow as he hands her the cup and the spoon.

They sit at one of the nearby picnic tables to eat, over in the shade of Megamind's hovering airship. Or, rather, Roxanne sits at the table, but backwards, leaning back against the wood. Megamind sits on the table, with his boots on the seat.

"That child earlier," Megamind says. "Was that a normal interaction?"

"Hm? Why wouldn't it be?" she says. "He was just offering to take our picture."

"There was no small talk," he says, frowning. "Not even a greeting or a goodbye. But you didn't seem surprised."

"Oh," she says, and she nods. "Oh, right. Yeah, that was super normal."

"Since when?"

"Since always? But it’s kind of just for pictures." She takes another bite of ice cream. "When you notice someone taking a picture of someone else, it's okay to ask if they'd like a picture of them together. Because there's really no way to get that except with a tripod or by taking a selfie, which doesn't get the background. Or with a selfie stick," she allows, "but you don't see those too often. If it was someone with a selfie stick I wouldn't ask. But I've offered to take pictures of groups trying to squeeze into a selfie, and they've mostly said yes." She scoops her spoon around the inside of the cup. "It's just…a pain to get pictures of everyone, you know? It’s a widely-understood struggle. So it's not really even a social interaction, it's just…you're volunteering to act as a tripod, basically. Take a couple horizontally, take a couple vertically, do your best to get the background. But do it quickly, and then give the camera or the phone back and then just walk away."

"And say nothing?" This is baffling. One of the first things Megamind was taught was that conversational openers and closers are compulsory.

"I mean…I'll usually say something like, 'I took a few,' or 'I took one zoomed way out to get the whole thing.' But really all you need to do is smile and wave and leave. People don't want to talk, they want a picture. And it's nice to have an easy interaction with a stranger who recognized your struggle. It's pretty much the lowest possible stakes interaction you can have."

"Huh." He turns this over in his mind as he eats more of his water ice.

The sun overhead is warm, and everywhere there is the smell of grass. Some kids are playing frisbee in the field. The breeze is cool. 

"This was really sweet of you," Roxanne says, out of nowhere, and Megamind looks down. "To do this for me."

He shakes his head.

"I don’t understand," he finally says, "why your parents wouldn’t make the time. Integrate it into the trip one year. Plan for it. This wasn’t a drive you only did once or twice—you said this was nearly every summer. And you never went?"

"I mean, I was mostly joking, after the first few years," she says. "When I asked."

"Were you?" He looks out at the horizon, the empty cup of his water ice dangling from his fingers. "Were you joking? Or were you making it sound like a joke so it wouldn’t hurt when they laughed at you for asking."

Roxanne is quiet.

"They could have said, no, because we don’t want to go, and we’re the adults," he says. "They could have said, when you’re an adult and can drive yourself, then you can go. But they didn’t. They made you feel silly and stupid for wanting to see it, at all." He curls his lip and clacks his hollow cup loudly on the wood as he puts it down. "They could have planned for it. But they didn’t do that, either."

"Planning for a big ball of twine isn’t—"

"Not for the twine! For you!"

Roxanne startles and looks up at him, and okay, that came out significantly sharper than he had intended. He can’t find it in him to care about his tone right now.

"For you!" he exclaims again, indignant and staring at her. "I didn’t come here for the twine either," gesturing around at everything with a splayed-open hand, "I came for you! Because you wanted to! Because it would make you happy and it would not make me UNhappy!"

He looks completely outraged and bewildered, gazing down at her with the sun on his skin and the wind pulling his clothes. Roxanne blinks, shocked, her heart slamming in her ears and her stomach slowly twisting. After a moment, Megamind wilts a little and his handsome face smooths as he shakes his head again and looks away.

"And I’ve had a good time, too," he says. "I never got to do anything like this, either. But at least my uncles never tried to make me feel stupid just for wanting it. That was everybody else’s job."

A lump crawls into her throat.

He’s right. She knows he is—she’s felt what he’s saying, despite trying her hardest not to. But hearing him lay it out like this, hearing him get so upset about it—

"I’m still mad about that Christmas list thing, by the way," he says, lips twisting. "Don’t be greedy. You weren’t greedy, you were five."

"I can’t believe you remembered that," she says, shocked.

"Don’t read too much into it, I can’t forget anything. But also, ollo, that was abhorrent."

"I don’t think they meant it to be," she begins, but Megamind makes a horrendous scornful scoffing sound in his throat.

He throws one hand into the air and clenches the other on the edge of the table. "I don’t care how they meant it," he snarls, "it happened and it sucked! And now, and now they get pissy when you don’t tell them what you want! Well it’s awfully rich of them to ask when historically, telling them what you want means you get to roll the dice on getting picked apart over it, denied, ignored, or mocked! Or if you DO get it, you are also punished with stress for throwing off the timetable! I bet!"

Roxanne opens her mouth—

—and then she stops, blinking.

"Oh, my god," she says. "That is what happened, isn't it."

"Yes! I know, that’s why I said it!"

"No, no, hang on—" She waves at him. "Sorry, I’m just—I’m having an epiphany. I’m—oh, my god."

Megamind stops talking and waits. If she’s finally realizing he’s right—congratulations self, pat on back, well done you mad genius you—he’s certainly not going to interrupt her. She sits on the picnic table bench, staring around at the tableau in front of them probably without really seeing it. The parking lot, the kids. The guy cooking burgers. The twine.

She looks down at the empty ice cream cup in her hand.

"Can we go to the zoo?" she asks, and looks up at Megamind.

Can they—

"…Yes!" he says, in his very best this is an obvious fact voice. "Yes of course, we can—let’s go to the zoo! That sounds fun! What zoo, where?"

She swallows. Her eyes are still really big, but she’s starting to smile. Nervous and hopeful and nothing he’s seen on her face before. "Um. It would…it would be on the way back, is that okay? In Illinois. We—don't have to, we could also just go another time, but—"

"Absolutely," he says, firm. "Definitely, we are going to the zoo on our way back. I’ve never been to a zoo before! And—oooh!" He perks up as a thought occurs. "Let’s go to Graceland!"

Roxanne reels back. "Wh—Graceland? I don’t…do you want to do Graceland?"

"Not even a little bit," he says, grinning down at her with all his teeth and wiggling his shoulders, "but it will make Metro Man so angry that I went before he did and I DEFINITELY want to do that."

She snorts. "Okay, sure, then let’s do Graceland too." 

"Yessss," he says, and punches the air. Roxanne laughs.

It's out of the way, but she has her extra day built in on the way back, they can probably make it work. It's—it's worth trying. It's worth building in. She can build it in. That's a thing that can happen. She's allowed to do that. 

It's…not actually freaking her out. To think about it. Adding a new plan to their existing plans. 

Huh.

"Seriously, thank you," she says. "I don’t…even if I did ever make it out here," she takes a deep breath, "I don’t think I’d have nearly as much fun as today."

Megamind blinks at her, looking surprised, and then his expression goes sly. "Ohhh I know how we can make it more fun," he says, eyes alight and brows wicked.

"I am going to regret asking, aren’t I."

"Probably!"

She sighs. "How can we make it more fun?"

He beams. "We paint it BLUE!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"We’re not painting it blue!"

"What about washable paint?"

"No."

"Just a little bit!"

"Megamind, no."

"Megamind, yes!"

Roxanne is laughing too hard to reply, at this point, so she just leans sideways against his leg and tips her head against his knee and lets her reaction speak for itself. Megamind is laughing too, anyway, so. He probably knows it’s a non-starter.

His hand comes to rest lightly on the top of her head, strong fingers settling on her hair as the breeze rustles the short strands around. It’s a vaguely affectionate gesture, friendly, comfortable. Roxanne lets her laughter subside with a hum, lets her gaze slip from the ball of twine in front of them to the grass, to the man cooking burgers, to the shiny, pointed toes of Megamind’s boots on the seat next to her.

She taps a knuckle on the end of the one nearer to her. "They’re cool boots," she says. "Did you bring anything more summery?"

"I can’t wear sandals, they hurt between my toes."

Roxanne frowns. "What about Birkenstocks? Like that guy’s wearing?"

When Megamind doesn’t reply, she leans away and looks up.

Then she snorts. He’s scowling down at her with his nose all wrinkly and his mouth pulled into probably the most disgusted contortion Roxanne has ever seen.

"Shall I also wear the swim trunks with the lemons all over," he says, voice dripping with scorn. "Shall I also wear the neon orange Hawaiian shirt with the fish."

"You could just say you don’t like them!" she exclaims.

"I don’t like them."

"Ugh, fine," she says. "But I do think you would look fabulous in that shirt, since you asked."

"You have obviously been in the sun too long," he says, rising and then stepping down off the bench. "Shall we? One of us is clearly suffering from some sort of heat stroke." He flips his hand over and holds it out to her.

Roxanne blinks at it, then puts her empty ice cream cup in it. Megamind turns his head, then turns the rest of himself, looking at once offended and intensely bewildered.

"Your hand," he says. He puts her empty cup with his as Roxanne cracks up, then holds out his gloved hand again. "Give me your hand."

She slides her fingers over his palm this time and lets him pull her to her feet, and then—

She steps forward and wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders. Megamind freezes.

"Thanks," she says. She tips her head against his jaw. "This was…thank you."

He doesn’t move, and for a second she thinks oh no, she’s overstepped and weirded him out…but then his arms come up around her and she feels his hard chest rise as he takes a breath. So.

Oh god he’s wiry-slim and he's so fucking hot and he’s being so sweet and Roxanne absolutely is not developing romantic-type feelings for a supervillain. He’s her friend! They’re friends! They’re just friends! She LIKES being just friends!

But she can still feel his handprint on the top of her head, tingling there. And she is very abruptly hyperaware of his skin where her fingers are brushing his arm, where her temple and the top of her cheek are touching his face. That…that’s fine. That’s fine, right? It’s been a while since Roxanne has had any skin contact with anyone, that’s all.

Megamind’s arms tighten around her and he shifts his stance a little, and oh no, okay, when did he get good at hugs. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck, oh no, he’s sweet and he’s good at hugs and he’s so snarky and he fits so nicely against her—brought her to see this massive stupid ball of twine just because it would make her happy—

Her throat constricts and her vision goes annoyingly swimmy entirely without her say-so, and she gulps before she can stop herself.

She’s happy. She’s just having a good time. He’s being so kind and she’s mistaking her responses to that as having a crush on him and denial is just a river in Egypt.

Megamind leans back, brow furrowing with apparent concern. Roxanne can’t meet his eyes. It’s all just…too much. Suddenly. She shakes her head, wobbles a smile.

"It’s fine," she whispers. "It’s…thanks. This was fun."

For a moment, he just studies her face; she can feel his eyes on her while she tries to drag herself back under control. At least he isn’t anyone who’d laugh at her.

Then he steps back and twirls a wrist. "Roxanne, take it from a professional clown," he says, pressing his fingertips to his chest and arching an eyebrow. Confused, she does look at him then, and he grins—

—and bounces his fingertip twice on the end of her nose before she can blink. "Be. Silly. It’s good for you!" And his smile flashes white at her for an instant just before he turns away and loops his arm through hers. "Now, come on," he says, tugging her into step with him, "and we’ll get back in the air and you can tell me more places you want to go."

"We’re going to split off from the way my family always went pretty soon," she says.

"Oh no, and there won’t be anywhere else to stop between here and Denver," he laments. He tosses their crumpled trash easily into a garbage can with another wrist flourish like a basketball player on their way past, then slaps the back of his hand dramatically to his high forehead without lowering his arm. "Oh no, the internet doesn’t exist and you can’t look up anything fun along our route. Oh no, we’ll just have to suffer in joyless silence the rest of the way to—"

"Fine, okay, I get it! God, you’re such an ass," she laughs.

"Eh, you love it," he teases back, and releases her to bounce cheerfully back up to the airship and scramble up the spikes to the entry hatch.

Roxanne follows more slowly, still laughing, shaking her head.

Chapter Text

They make it another hour in the airship, then stop again so Megamind can stretch. Roxanne doesn't bother to get out with him, this time; she's buried in Facebook and sort of pinch-scowling at her phone. When her companion gets back in, she doesn't look up.

He puts the airship in flight and pulls back out over the highway, throws them forward. Roxanne—doesn't quite—sigh, exactly; she just—it's a louder breath than usual—

"Everything okay?"

"Yep," she says, despite all evidence to the contrary. She lowers her phone. "I really…earlier was fun." She sends him a half-smile. "Thanks."

"…Let me guess," he says, dry, "you sent your mother one of the pictures with me in it, and now she thinks you're in horrible danger."

Roxanne laughs a little. "No, no. I sent her one of the ones you took of just me. She said she was happy for me, said 'oh, you finally made it!' so, that's fine."

He glances over at her. "Something is wrong."

"It's okay." This time she does sigh. "I'm just…really weirdly cranky? I don't even know why! I'm having fun! Give me some time to poke around at the news, I'm…I'll be fine."

Frowning, Megamind nods.

"Actually," Roxanne says a little bit later, so abruptly that he jumps. "Actually. Actually. Hey. Do you—want to stop?"

"We stopped half an hour ago."

"Yeah, but I mean, for lunch. We, um. I know we have snacks, and we had ice cream earlier. But—but real food?"

That's an idea.

"I would not mind real food," Megamind says.

(And if Roxanne is suggesting they stop, then he is doubly game to do so. It doesn't seem like she's accustomed to being able to suggest such things freely.)

"Would you want to go here?" She turns her phone to show him. "It's a little bit out of our way, but…we could…"

Megamind squints at the little screen for a couple seconds before returning his attention to the road. "Is it inside an airplane?"

"Seems to be." She pauses for a moment, scrolling. "Menu's not bad. Should I try and get us a table?"

"Where is it?"

She gives him the address, the town it's in, and his eyes slide out of focus.

Then he nods. "Probably only twenty minutes."

Roxanne busies herself with her phone.

"This is so weird, though," she says, following the restaurant's hostess through a large dining room towards a flight of narrow stairs. The establishment has two seating areas—one relatively normal-looking space, and the other inside the fuselage of a decommissioned Stratofreighter, an aerial refueling tanker from the 1950s. "I'm usually way better about road trips! And we had such a nice time at the twine! I don't know what's going on with me; I should be fine in the car—ship—for hours yet."

Peering up and around at the curved, silvery walls, Megamind makes a noncommittal noise.

"Seriously," Roxanne says over her shoulder, "wanting to stop for lunch? Not just a passing thought of 'hm it might be nice,' but actively wanting to stop? That's not me! That never happens!"

"I do have an idea," Megamind says as he slides into the tiny booth across from her. "Of what might be—oh."

A young man in an apron and polo shirt has just appeared. "Hi, can I get y'all—whaaaa—hi! Sorry, you're fine, uh—Hi, can I get y'all something to drink?"

Roxanne swallows her bubble of laughter at his obvious double-take and immediate awkward recovery at seeing Megamind. She keeps forgetting he isn't a regular face outside of Metro—the people at the tourist trap earlier seemed more or less fine, as far as she had noticed. But then again, she had been a little bit distracted, and none of that had involved obligatory customer service-type interactions beyond whatever was necessary to acquire ice cream. 

"Sprite for me," she says.

"Sprite! And—?"

Megamind swallows. "Do you have the kind of coke that is without corn?"

"Uhhh yeah the stuff from Mexico? Yeah, you're in luck! Bottle or glass?"

"Bottle. Unopened."

"Right on."

He starts to turn away, then sort of startles again and spins another two hundred seventy degrees into a full three-sixty to face them again, which is not something Roxanne can ever remember seeing someone do. Most people just turn back the other way if they forget something.

"Also! My name is Tanner and I'll be your server today. Okay I'll go put those drinks in," and then he's gone.

Across the booth, Megamind relaxes, and Roxanne can't help but grin a little. "You really don't…people, do you."

Has he ever been to an actual restaurant, she wonders. To sit and eat, not just to stop in and intimidate an owner or patron? Are there restaurants in Metro that tolerate him? Surely there must be; his network of contacts is vast. But most of them aren't exactly the same overall 'flavor' of contact as Roxanne's, are they? And even if an owner was okay with him, there's always other patrons to worry about. 

Oblivious to her internal musings, Megamind blinks, and then his brows pull together in offense and he puffs himself up. "Excuse you, I people just fine," he declares. "Look! Look at me people-ing, watch. Ollo, people! See? I people fine! The problem is that people don't me." Gesturing around at the restaurant and then aiming both hands at his own chest with a scowl.

Roxanne has burst into giggles behind her hand. "Oh my god, sssshhhsh! You goof! Okay, whatever, you people all the time and you're very good at it."

"Thank you."

She pauses, then tilts her head at him, eyes twinkling. "Then again…I guess you did 'people' okay at the twine, huh?"

Megamind makes a face. "It felt weird," he complains. "I'm accustomed to more screaming than that."

Roxanne snorts. "Did anybody say anything? At all? I wasn't…really paying attention, sorry."

"No." He unsnaps his short gloves from his wrists and begins working the leather off of his fingers. "Nothing untoward. A couple stares, nothing worthy of notice. Anyway! I had an idea! Of why—

"You folks had a chance to look at the menus?"

They both jump.

"Sorry, no," Roxanne says as Tanner puts their drinks down. "Give us just a couple more minutes?"

"Sure thing. Um," he turns to Megamind, "long as I'm here, do you have any, um. Food allergies, sensitivities…? Oh and I should ask you as well," he says, glancing at Roxanne.

"This late in the day I should be able to tolerate most things," Megamind says stiffly. "I avoid corn products when possible."

Roxanne shakes her head, smiling.

"Cool, will check back in a few."

He disappears.

"Guess we probably should actually decide what to eat," Roxanne says, and tugs her menu over to herself. "You said you had an idea?"

"Ah! Yes. About why you might be struggling, currently."

"Oh?"

"Talking about these trips," he says, slowly running his fingertips down the laminated edge of his menu, "you seem like…hmm. There is a…tone, that you have. You talk about driving the way Granny used to talk about field hockey."

"Granny?"

"Cafeteria worker on the women's side. Kept piranhas, helped a lot with Minion when we were small. But, but my point is, I don't think you're built different." He gives a small shrug. "I think you have trained for a particular sort of mindset. A sport, almost. Like long-distance running."

"A long-haul headspace," Roxanne says, tilting her head as she considers. "Huh. And this isn't like that at all, you're right. Stopping every hour…I can't get into my stride."

He nods. "Exactly. This is something very different. You are approaching it as if it's what you know, you're trying to do what you usually would—but I need to stop. Too often."

Roxanne hesitates. "I wouldn't say too often," she slowly says. "Just…more often than I'm used to."

Megamind's mouth tugs into a reluctant smile. "Too often."

"Be nicer to yourself," she says, rolling her eyes. "You're nice to me. Be nice to you."

He barks a startled-sounding laugh. "Ha! I…suppose that is fair. What are you ordering?"

Around them, the narrow space hums with conversation and trembles slightly with footsteps. Megamind is somewhat more on-edge here than he was out in the open at the twine, earlier, or at the various other stops they've made so far. It occurs to him sort of distantly, how funny it is that he should feel so rattled indoors, when at home he mostly only feels this way under the sky. But at home he knows his escape routes, knows he has more than one. Here…

The two of them place their orders with Tanner when he comes back, and Roxanne leans her chin on her hand and sighs, blue eyes roving over the curving walls and silver ceiling.

"Going stir crazy in a flying tin can, and somehow you find the one restaurant that puts you right back in the ship," Megamind grins.

She snorts. Sighs, smiles. Shakes her head. "I think you're right," she says. "I think it's just…this isn't what I'm used to. The stops are fun, but I'm not used to stopping."

Her gaze slides away and goes distant as her smile ebbs. Thinking about something he can't begin to guess at.

"I'm not used to any of it," he hears himself say, and the flash of Roxanne's eyes back to him rocks him so hard he can't think to stop himself from telling her, "We'll learn together."

Oops. That was too sincere. Far too raw. His stomach pitches with nerves and he feels his body trying to shrink behind his shoulders.

But it makes Roxanne blink and then her smile warms, and she nods, and the knot of tension in Megamind's back eases.

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, together. And it's not too much farther at this point; I'll try not to be cranky at you. So," she continues, straightening up a little and turning more towards him, "tell me about…Granny? Is she, um…still around?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. Still working in the cafeteria. And! Just had her first grandchild," he adds, brightening. "The fattest baby I have ever seen! In my limited experience. Babies are," he wiggles a hand, makes a face, "but Theo is cute in his pictures, I will admit."

"Wait, sorry. Her first grandchild?"

Megamind snorts and feels his face split in the smile that shows all his teeth, which is something he tries not to do, but it's getting harder to catch himself. "Well, she was only twenty-two when I landed."

"Granny?"

"She was knitting!" he protests. "The only knitting I had seen at that point was done by old ladies in the books Uncle Davy brought for me! I had not seen very many women as a basis for comparison! So I asked if she was very old, and she said yes, in fact she was so old she had looped back around into young and I should call her Granny. So I called her Granny!"

Roxanne is laughing helplessly. Sitting across from him in this horrible metal cigar with only one exit he can see, surrounded by unknown variables, waiting on lunch, but—she is laughing. It is worth it, no matter how many prickles it sends down his spine to sit here.

This is his first full day outside of Metro, but already his city feels like a lifetime ago. Megamind has seen the rolling hills of Michigan and Illinois flatten into prairie grass, and soon he'll begin to see the prairie fade out to scrubby steppe yuccas and cacti before the topography bucks and screams away into the sky with the Rockies plunging up from the earth.

"You still doing okay?" Roxanne asks. And then, when he glances at her, she shrugs. "I know this is all…not really your thing."

Megamind takes a breath, lets it out. Pauses

"I simply never thought I would ever see this," he finally says. "Outside." He touches the wall by their table, silver and underlit with amber light. The plane they're in was utilitarian, a ship of war, windowless. But outside, the grass ripples and bends away like water under the wind. "Growing up, all I had was the cage. Prison, and…hm. Shool. My career."

He doesn't see the way she's looking at him. Doesn't see how she blinks at career, at the slight curl of his lip.

He just. Exhales.

"This is not my 'thing,' no," he says. He looks at her. "But I am enjoying it. And…it's you with me. So."

Roxanne's mouth pulls into a half-smile. "I guess you don't have many other friends aside from Minion you could do this with."

He shakes his head. "I had one or two people I called friends, years ago, in sh—school. But. I was probably deeply unwell, by human standards." His lips thin. "We are no longer in touch."

"That's a shame." She hesitates, then offers, "If it helps…I don't think anyone makes it out of public school completely unscathed. Even the popular kids. I was—"

"Afterburner burger," says Tanner, appearing so suddenly that they both jump. Neither of them had noticed the plane shifting at his approach. He slides the plate down in front of Roxanne, then says, "Aaaand fried catfish, potato starch not corn starch. Get you folks anything else? Another coke?"

"Please. Thank you."

"You got it," and Tanner trots away again.

"So polite," Roxanne teases.

"I have manners," Megamind says, rolling his eyes. "I may choose not to use them but I do have manners, Roxanne."

Roxanne snorts and shakes her head and picks up her burger.

"That," she says a little later, walking back out to their airship, "was fantastic. I'll have to leave them a good review, seriously, that was amazing."

Megamind is blinking in the bright sunlight, but he felt the weight of the confined space lift off his shoulders the moment he stepped out the door. "It was!" he exclaims. "It really was. An excellent find!"

"Thanks! Maybe someday I'll be back out this way and I can get the catfish—they did a really incredible job with yours. Oooo," sounding as though something very exciting has just occurred to her, "actually, do you think Nevada is close enough to the ocean for proper seafood? Is it too far inland?"

"I don't think the restaurants in Las Vegas worry too much about distance."

Roxanne's eyes light as she follows him up the spikes to the entry hatch. "Good point! Wow. I wasn't planning to go into the city, but…I wonder if they can get fresh shellfish…or, heck, even just snapper would be fantastic…the hotel we're staying in has a restaurant; I wonder if…"

"You can't get those things in Metro?"

"Not affordably," she says, fervent. "And even then—I'm sorry, I grew up in San Francisco. My seafood standards cannot be met in Michigan. Freshwater yes, saltwater absolutely not, I am such a snob when it comes to fish. You mind if I drive?"

He still hasn't told her how delighted he is at her excitement for flying. Seeing Roxanne at his controls, his, flying his ship—he watches her strap into the pilot seat and he will never ever tire of it, he is certain.

They chat easily for a while, about the slowly changing landscape and the weather and Metro. The road ahead. Roxanne also asks Megamind about the force field she'll be wearing—its origins, its power source—and he does a surprisingly good job of explaining the basic concepts in ways she actually understands. Her own background in physics helps a lot, though she's rusty, and she's amused to find herself mildly irritated at not being able to look anything up while they're talking because she's looking at the road.

Thankfully, Megamind does seem more than happy to drill down and elaborate on what Roxanne can't help but feel must be a ridiculous number of questions. He sits in the passenger seat with one leg curled under him, facing her, talking quickly and making big gestures so she can see in her peripheral vision.

"Holy smokes," she finally says, "that's…I mean, so, as long as the microcrystalline manifold doesn't run out of surface area to oxidize, it can basically just…go forever?"

"Exactly!"

She shakes her head. "That is fascinating. I feel like my brain's been stirred."

He snorts. "We can talk about something else—like that thing for example, did you SEE—"

"Was that four trailers?" Roxanne says, turning her head to try and get another look at the massive semi truck they've just blitzed past before she remembers the back of the airship is still opaque. "There's no way that's legal!"

"It was FedEx, they wouldn't pull that if it wasn't," Megamind says.

She shakes her head. "I want to know what it looks like under the hood. That engine has to be cutting edge, I don't think I've ever seen that before."

"I don't know about that," he says, "you should see what they've got in Australia."

Roxanne glances at him, amused. "You also seemed excited to see it...?"

"I grew up in prison! I've never seen one either!" He laughs a little. "Still. It's FedEx! Why would they not use trains?"

"Presumably because the USA is shit for trains," Roxanne says flatly. "Our rail infrastructure is a joke."

Megamind wrinkles his face. "But we're huge."

"Yeah, we need rail, it's just nobody wants to build any, and nobody wants to maintain the rail we already have. I took the train home the summer after my freshman year at Metro U," she says, "and it took me, like, three days to get there. It was something like seventy hours."

"Seventy!"

"Some of that was layovers," she says, "but yeah, it was awful. Driving it'd only be, like…forty."

He grins. "Ah, but driving, you would need to stop to sleep! And so it would still take you three days, probably, even with the way you usually drive."

Roxanne snorts with amusement and shakes her head. "Okay, smartypants," she says, "would you rather…"

Megamind grins and sits up.

"…wear six-inch stiletto heels as your only shoes for a year, or eat twelve earthworms every day for a month?"

Since leaving Metro, she's taught Megamind the license plate game, the alphabet game, Fortunately/Unfortunately, and the basic concept of While You Were Sleeping, all of which she usually enjoys but none of which have been as much fun with only two people. But Would You Rather is always at least mildly entertaining.

"Are the earthworms alive?"

"They are alive, but you can kill them."

"Painlessly? And can I cook them?"

She pauses. "Let's say no to both."

"Then I will take the heels. Would—"

"Because you'd be hurting the worms, or because you would have to eat them raw?"

"Would you rather lose your ability to read," he says as she blows a raspberry at him, "or lose your ability to talk?"

"Oooh. You mean, permanently?"

"Permanently."

She thinks for a moment. "Talk," she decides. "I need reading to do too many things. And I could still write messages, and learn to sign."

"What if you could still read small things, but nothing that involves paragraphs?"

"Oh, then reading. Audiobooks exist, and screen readers. Here's a hard one—would you rather be respected and feared, or laughed at and loved?"

He's quiet for a while.

Finally he says, to Roxanne's surprise, "Feared."

"Really!"

He arches a brow at her. "This is unexpected?"

"I mean…" She shrugs. "I guess not. I just never realized laughter bothers you."

"It doesn't. But this is an either/or, pitting respect against laughter. Thus the laughter in this case is without respect. Yes?"

She nods.

"Laughter without respect is mockery," says Megamind, "and I don't know how mockery and love can coexist. I don't know how love can exist without respect—and if I did know, I do not think I would want it. So, yes," he says, "I would rather be feared and alone than mocked with whatever passes for love in this scenario."

"Oh, good thinking," Roxanne exclaims. "Wow, okay. I always went with 'it would depend on who was laughing,' but I like your answer better."

He shrugs, grinning. "Brain's big for a reason. Would you—WHAT—"

"Oh WOW," Roxanne says, brows vanishing under her hairline, "we—we have to go back? We have to go back!"

"OBVIOUSLY we have to go back! Will you require assistance in turning us around?"

Roxanne seizes her lip between her teeth. "No, I think if I…"

She squeezes the handles of both control rods to push their nose down a few feet, then plants her left foot flat, twists the left rod, and shoves the right rod forward. The little ship stops dead in the air and pivots neatly around its nose as Megamind chirps at the sudden stop and then yips into laughter as he flies sideways against his straps.

Roxanne rockets them back up the highway, grinning around her lip. Megamind is cackling. "Oh, well done!" he cheers. "The nose-dip was very neatly manoyvered!"

"Yessss," Roxanne hisses, laughing, and she pulls them rattle-bumping into the dusty parking lot of a roadside shop with a couple of elderly-looking gas pumps out front and an enormous fake flying saucer in the field next door. A ten-foot-tall plywood cutout of a skinny-limbed, big-headed alien with one hand raised in greeting and a goofy smile on its face stands between shop and saucer.

Megamind is up out of his chair and has the hatch open before Roxanne is finished extracting herself from the straps of the pilot's seat. "This is hilarious," his voice calls as he disappears, "I cannot believe we found this. Here—"

"Thanks," says Roxanne, taking his hands and letting him help her out onto the wing, "oof, you really need a step-stool or something in there…holy smokes," she adds, grinning at the building. It has GREETINGS EARTHLINGS on the top in bright green painted letters. "That is the best thing I've ever seen."

Megamind laughs as he trots down the wing and hops to the ground. Roxanne follows a little more slowly; her flats are comfortable but they don't have the best traction in the world.

The area around them is spectacularly flat, scattered with cutouts and statues of various stereotypical extraterrestrials, metal garden decorations, wind socks, wind chimes, pinwheels…

"What a variety of…visible…items," Megamind says.

Roxanne snorts. "Yeah, these little shops always look like they've got a ton of stuff for sale."

"Look like? You've never stopped?"

She gives him a look. "Megamind."

"That is a travesty," he says flatly. "Look at this place! It's like candyland for aliens! It's made for kids!"

"Please don't eat the fridge magnets," she says, holding the door so he can go inside, "please tell me that's not something you can do."

"Candyland, not candy store, I know you know the difference, Roxanne. What was your family even doing! Why not simply fly, if you aren't going to have fun with it!"

Roxanne heaves an enormous shrug. "Driving WAS fun! We had fun in the car!"

"Madness," he says, "nonsense. Ooo, you were right! Fridge magnets!"

The older lady behind the front desk who looked up when they came in has apparently recovered—she had frozen, initially, with probably some kind of greeting on the tip of her tongue when the sight of Megamind completely derailed her.

"Uh," she says. "Hi? Hi, uh, wel-welcome—to our shop, I—would usually say 'greetings earthlings' but—uh—not sure if you're a meta or—"

From where he's slowly turning the revolving display of sparkling plastic, Megamind witters and trills, click-laughing, blinking his second eyelids sideways at her.

Roxanne swats his arm as she goes past. "Megamind, be nice! Hi, sorry about him."

"I am being nice," he exclaims in mock-outrage, unable to hide his enormous toothy grin. He glances at the lady behind the counter—she's staring at him, but she appears more startled than starstruck, and she's also starting to hide what looks like an amused smile. Good, that's probably okay. "I am offering this total stranger an example of my language of origin, that is SO nice!"

"You're freaking her out!"

"Story of my life!" He abandons the magnets and leans his elbows on the counter. This feels MUCH easier than the restaurant did. "Ollo, question. You do know first contact was technically made back in the early seventies, yes?"

"Absolutely," she exclaims. "Oh, yes. Depending on who you ask, it was actually made back in the fifties! Unofficially. But there's still UFO sightings to discuss, you see. The first recorded sightings in North America were back in the eighteen hundreds, in Mexico, but we've had records of visitors all throughout history, all over the world—some more than two thousand years ago, although those are up for debate."

"Aliens did not build the pyramids," Megamind says flatly.

"No, that's a myth. But phantom ships were seen in the sky over Italy a couple hundred years before the birth of Christ. And over Ireland, several hundred years later—there are multiple accounts of that one," she says. "And quite a few in between! Now, most so-called 'UFOs' can really be explained by uncommon weather phenomena—I've got a chart right here—" she gestures at the wall behind her "—or ultra-light aircraft, or military operations. But some are fully unexplainable. I saw one as a girl." She shrugs. She hasn't taken her eyes off him once, but she's talking to him normally enough, as far as he can tell. That's reassuring. "So—yes, we know there's aliens out there. Even have some of you outworlders here on Earth! But there's still UFOs, and worlds we haven't made contact with, so…" She shrugs, smiles. "We still manage to do business enough to stay in business. Don't normally get many of y'all wandering in, though!" she adds with a wink. "Is your friend…?"

Megamind snorts. "I'm pretty sure she's human," he says, raising his voice. "She's just weird!"

"Pots and kettles!" calls Roxanne's voice from somewhere over near shelves and shelves of clothing, and Megamind grins.

"Oh," the lady says, "if you want to try anything on, the back corner's got a curtain up!"

"Thanks!"

"Give a holler if you've got any questions," she says. "Name's Beth."

"Megamind," he says. "Roxanne?"

"Over here!"

A hand appears, waving over top of some of the shelves, and Megamind nods at Beth and scurries away with his heart pounding.

"Roxanne!" he exclaims under his breath. "I just initiated what I think may have been a normal interaction with a stranger!"

"Aw, yay!" she says. "That's great!"

He beams, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Then he sees a stack of brightly-colored fabric, and pivots. "Ooo!"

Roxanne chuckles, and keeps moving. There are a lot of tee shirts.

A few minutes later, she's found a couple of shirts she's planning on getting, and a little stone alien bust in a style she hasn't seen before. It's not as squat and silly-looking as most she's run across over the years. The shelf she pulled it off of had a whole collection of them—big heads, long slender necks. The usual dour mouths, but still, they were sort of elegant. The one she selected is a mottled reddish brown, with areas of soft-looking green. It wasn't the prettiest one on the shelf in terms of color, but it has an endearing white inclusion on the top of its polished head, and areas of subtly translucent quartz…and it was the only one whose mouth was upturned on one side in a smirk. She's pretty sure that was accidental.

She's not showing it to Megamind. He would never let her live it down.

Roxanne has never thought of herself as anyone who would spend money at a random tourist trap, but…it's fun. It's a fun little place! She's glad to have stopped here. Moreover, she's glad to have stopped here with Megamind, specifically. This would also have been fun with a different friend, or with her brother, but…something about an actual space alien at a UFO-themed shop just makes her grin every time she thinks of it. She'll have to get some pictures here and send them to Minion.

"Roxanne," says Megamind's voice from the direction of the try-on corner. "Roxanne I have assembled the best possible outfit."

"Have you?" She turns and heads back down the shelves of knick-knacks and chintzy toys and tee shirts, and comes around the partition to see what he's…

Oh jesus.

"Is this not," Megamind says, fists on his hips and beaming at Roxanne doubled-over and wheezing, "the best possible outfit."

A surprisingly stretchy headband with silver tinsel antennae pompoms bobbing cheerfully on springs. A violently green pair of sunglasses in the shape and configuration of oblong alien eyes. A pair of green running shorts with rainbow iridescent alien heads all over. And a black tee shirt with ALIENS AREN'T REAL emblazoned across the front in block letters.

"The only question," he continues, "is whether I want the tee shirt or the cropped-top."

"There-there's a crop top version?" Roxanne chokes out.

Megamind grins and ducks back into the changing alcove.

They leave the little tourist attraction with tchotchkes and tee shirts and one crop top ("Are you ever going to actually wear that anywhere?" "That's not the point!") and a UFO tank decoration for Minion, both of them laughing, both of them in matching green plastic sunglasses.

"You look horrendous in those," Megamind declares. "Those are the worst things I have ever seen."

"I don't think they're meant to look good, they're meant to look funny! Here, selfie out front, let me see if I can get the GREETINGS EARTHLINGS sign—put your arm around me, get in close—"

Megamind does so, and Roxanne tells him to say take me to your leader, but—Megamind is laughing too hard to say anything.

It's a good day. All the way into midafternoon, a good day. Laughing and eating and finding things to look at and do. Bright eyes, warm voices, high spirits.

Sixty or so miles east of Denver, their good day goes sideways.

Abandoned spaces aren't uncommon along their route. Mostly just houses left to the weather, a church with its roof falling in. These are beautiful under the vast sky and towering clouds as Megamind and Roxanne zip past. But there are others as well, hidden away and long-forgotten: deep, echoing spaces, enormous man-made cave systems of metal and rust, their wires ripped out and their communications arrays rotting slowly away in the dark.

Sometimes, though, something is left. Something tightly-wound and waiting, deteriorating, or an ancient battery, dead. Water gets in, electrolysis stutters through, there's a minuscule fluke charge. Perhaps a quirk of magnetism whispers through from an alien vessel's ground-penetrating radar and scanners and tugs at just the right fields, and…

One of the sensors in the dizzying array of Megamind's control panels starts blinking.

He leans forward and frowns at it. Taps it with a fingertip.

"That's strange," he murmurs.

Roxanne glances up from her book. She had wanted to look some things up on her phone after the UFO stop, so Megamind is once again at the helm. "Hmm?"

"We're picking up some kind of interference nearby."

Under them, the Great Plains have been peeling rapidly away as they hurtle towards the Rockies. They've made it to Colorado, but everything is still pretty flat and open so far, with gently rolling hills and dells. Tall grasses fading out into small scrub, as Megamind had known it would. Houses, here and there. Farmland. The sky overhead is scudded with low clouds.

Roxanne looks around. The alien sunglasses are perched on her head. "I don't see anything."

"It's registering as—as some kind of—potentially very large something." He pulls them up and wheels around. "Do you mind?" Glancing over at her.

"Not at all." She puts her feet on the floor and sits up, peering around at the grasses and low rolling hills and dells on either side of the highway. "Is it a communication?"

"It must be, but…" He shakes his head. "It's faint. Very faint. High-frequency, heavily corrupted. It…there, this way."

The little craft starts bouncing as they leave the road. Megamind takes them to and fro over the grasses, frowning at the ground, maneuvering them deftly around the short trees that scrub the plains.

"There," Roxanne says suddenly, pointing. "There, I saw—something. In a low place, over there," and Megamind immediately nods and aims them in the direction she identified.

"It's strange," he says. "The transcription display is picking up…numbers. Barely any text. Mostly static, mostly nothing. Some random tones. I don't see anyth…"

He stops. So does the airship.

It's. A door.

Or, it was a door, set into the earth in a dell at the end of the bare remains of a road nearly taken over by grasses now. Without knowing it was there, they would never have seen that there was a road, at all. The opening to whatever is underground is set over with a heavy-looking grate and chain link fence cut through and bent away by trespassers. The concrete frame is covered in graffiti.

"Oh wow!" Roxanne leans forward, peering down at it with interest. "I bet this was one of our Atlas missile silos back in the day, some kind of military project. Something from the Cold War, maybe; Dad said there were a lot of those out here. They…whoa." She stops, too, for a moment. "You good?"

No, he wants to say, no no nonono but it gets lost on the way to his mouth. Help, but words Aren't, and since when does help come to him, anyway.

It has been years since the last time the whine in Megamind's ears returned and rose to a pitch that drowned out his racing thoughts entirely. But hooray, goody. Here we go again, says the last dwindling shred of him capable of thinking anything over the shriek of NOT AGAIN as the haze goes white-walled and angular around him, this will be interesting and the smell of cleaning solvent fills his nostrils and pain like gurgling thunder fills his skull and it hurts it hurts it hurts someone is talking butbut he can'tHe can't wOrds they won't let me go home and they won't let me die—

Chapter Text

"Whoa," Roxanne says, recoiling in alarm. Megamind has just pulled an enormous gasp through his nose and shoved himself backwards against his seat, hard. His eyes are so round and the blood is draining out of his blue face. "You good? Oh, my god, what's wrong?"

He's gulping air, staring at the door. He doesn't move, or speak.

"Megamind," Roxanne says, sweeping her sunglasses off her forehead and shoving them into her purse, frantically clawing herself free of her seat's straps. The upturned edge of Minion's chair pushes into the backs of her legs as she turns fully sideways to reach for her friend. "Hey. Look at me. Look—"

She touches Megamind's shoulder and he startles badly, flinching away so sharply that she yelps. But she catches his hand in the next second and grips his shoulder again hard, undeterred.

"Hey," she says, pulling on him to turn and face her instead of the view out the front of the ship. Although, she isn't really sure how much of the view he's seeing; his eyes aren't moving at all as he turns, doll-like and awful; he's usually taking everything in so quickly. "Hey, look at me. No no no, no, it's—it's okay, it's going to be okay—it's just me! It's me—"

He's fighting her, shaking his head and pulling away, choking on nothing. But he isn't fighting hard, isn't lashing out; he's—actually, he mostly seems to be shrinking back, grinding his teeth—eyes unmoving—

"Look at me, please look at me, oh god," Roxanne says, desperate, "um, maybe if I," and she finally does something she saw Minion do once, which is to splay her fingers out as much as she can and put her hand flat in the middle of his wide forehead.

Megamind's gaze snaps to her and he freezes. His eyebrows twitch. He blinks.

"Easy," she says as she drops her hands and leans back, uncertain; oh god his pupils are huge, "no, take it easy, it's just me. Can you—can you tell me where you are? Where are you?"

His eyes are locked on her face. Their black centers contract sharply down, then blow wide again—pin down—

"Where-where," he gasps. "Where—"

"Where are you, right now? Hey, I'm—I'm right here. Who am I?"

Roxanne can't do this without touching, god, she can't. She moves to hold his shoulders and he spasms hard and shakes out his hands as if he's been burned, but he doesn't swat her away so she gulps and insists, "What's—Megamind. Megamind, what's my name?"

She is trying to sound as normal as possible, but her heart is slamming in her chest. Her companion is in the grip of some kind of weird panic attack or shutdown; lord knows what might make him melt down entirely. But all she can do is try.

"It's just me," she says again. "You're safe. It's just me. What is my name?"

"…Rox-Roxanne," he finally gasps. Wild-eyed, shaking. He's opening and closing his hands, flicking and wiggling his fingers. And starting to twitch-turn his head, rolling his chin up to the side and pulling it down again and again like he's possessed. Or trying to work out a really bad, weird knot in his neck. "Roxanne—you're—I'm-I'm—we're—"

"Easy," she says. "Easy! You're in Colorado, you're—no no no don't look over there," she flashes her hand out to catch his face before he can look at the door again, and he flinches with a sharp chirp. Roxanne touches his cheek, holds her hand at the side of his eye to blinker him. Follows him as he pulls another a hard twitch, rolling his head against his neck, wild-eyed. Still flicking his hands and fingers, his breaths coming hard and uneven, teeth bared. Tears are beginning to run down his cheeks.

She swallows. "Don't look over there. Stay with me. Do you need me to fly?"

He nodnodnodnods. "Get-get me out of here," he hisses between his teeth, begging, "get—need—I'm—get me out, need-need to get—leave—we need we need we need to—go, we need to go—"

"Okay! Okay, here, just—you're still strapped in, I'm going to unbuckle you; let me—"

The straps holding Megamind in the pilot's chair require two hands, so she has to let go of his face where she was hiding the door from him. She gets his straps undone just as he catches sight of it again, and he lets out a horrible rasping whine from what sounds like deep in his chest, then wheezes air into his lungs. Squeezes his eyes closed and scrambles around her as Roxanne struggles into the pilot's chair and frantically tries to get herself situated.

Her friend crawls into the passenger seat choking on nothing, struggling to breathe. His spindly hands are still opening and closing, opening and closing, opening and closing, long fingers flicking and curling, trembling badly. Or—his right one is. He spasms abruptly and gasps out a thin little whistle like a dying sparrow, then rakes his nails hard at the back of his head, clawing at the skin a couple inches behind his ear.

"Hey don't hurt yourself," Roxanne exclaims, alarmed, but an animal snarl tears itself from Megamind's throat and—

"NoNOget it Out gEt it OUT," he hisses, shaking his head, his eyes clenched shut and his spine arching violently away from the chair behind him as he digs his blunt nails in. "Can't, I can't—I'm—don-don't know what's—"

"Okay I'm taking us back to the road," Roxanne says, turning them around and accelerating away with the little craft rattling violently around them. "I'm getting us back to the road and then I'm finding a place to—I don't even know; pull over, land, whatever."

"Get me away get me farther away," he gasps. "Far-farther away first, get-get mMe—sorrysSSorryI'm—"

"Don't be sorry!" she exclaims, now more alarmed than ever. That is not a word that comes easily to Megamind. "Hey, no, don't apologize! It's okay. Nobody's mad."

"mMy head," he rasps, slamming it back against his chair and shaking it from side to side as he arches his spine away again and then falls back against his seat, tears streaking his face, "it's in, iT's in my hhhead it's—I c-an't—there's nNoth-there's nothing—"

"Do you need me to call Minion," she says, desperate. "Would he be able to help?"

"No. No." He gulps. Still digging his nails in behind his ear, at the top of his spine. Less aggressively now, but he's definitely also hyperventilating, which…probably is not great. "No, he-he's—he would just—worry." He shakes out his hands for a moment, then lets out an agonized squeal like metal tearing and grabs at his head again with both hands, raking his blunt fingertips over his skin. "This-this is a bad one," he chokes out, "fuck."

"Yeah it sure doesn't sound fun," Roxanne says. They've made it back to the road; she flings them into gear. Drags the little shuttle up to top speed. "Hang on, okay? Just hang on. Let me get a couple more miles behind us."

"I can feel it," he gasps, tears in his voice, "I can feel-feel it, it's in—it's still—my head—it's in, it's in my head—"

"Okay screw this," Roxanne says, throwing them down an exit and into the parking lot of a strip mall. "Screw this—come here—"

She sets them down on their landing gear, flicks the switch to turn off the external cameras and the pocket dimension, and turns to Megamind, reaching for him. His shoulders are jerking, he can barely exhale. He's shaking so badly.

"Hey," Roxanne says, for what feels like the fifteenth time. "You are going to be okay. We aren't going back there, understand? And we'll take a different route home, that doesn't go past it."

His broken-open expression sort of pinches. He nods.

"Where are you?"

"Here-here now—feelfeel—like 'm gonna be sick—"

"Uh…" She looks around for something to be sick into, but then he's shaking his head in the next second.

"Won't," he whispers through clenched teeth. Still scraping at his skin with his right hand, still alternating between scratching and shaking out his left. "Won't. Just. Feels like it."

"Okay and can you please stop doing that to your head," she asks, frantic, trying to pull his hands down. "Please? You'll make yourself bleed if you keep that up. Here, can I—I'll put my hand—and, here, you do yours the same way." She places one hand flat on the back of his head where he's scratched his skin into angry welts, then catches his wrist with her free hand and puts his palm on her head, too, at the nape of her neck behind her ear. Hoping, hoping this will help him not feel attacked. "Put your hands—in—my hair. Good, that's good!" He's just slid his other one up, too. "Is, is that good? Is this okay?"

He's opening and closing his hands again in her hair at the nape of her neck, but he doesn't seem to be trying to scratch. And he's letting her hold him where he was fighting to get his skin open. And he's nodding.

"Can you tell me what happened? At all?"

He shakes his head.

Roxanne swallows, and nods. "Okay. That's okay! And," she says, "it's over now, whatever it was. Your head is okay, there's nothing there."

But his expression twists. He takes her hand in his much colder one and presses her fingertips hard to his skin a couple inches behind his ear. Moves them back and forth over—something—a dip in the bone—

He heaves in a shivering breath. "I suspect," he rasps, "they forced the valve site to stay open. For next time."

For…

The midday sun shines down through the little airship's high windshield. The air is comfortable inside, but quite still, and is beginning to develop the characteristic road-trip smell of snacks and stale soda. The muffled sounds of cars coming and going from the strip mall's parking lot filter in from around them. Roxanne can barely hear anything over the sound of her blood in her ears.

She has very few coherent lines to read between at this point, but she doesn't need any more to know she wants absolutely none of that.

"No. No no no. Megamind. Look at me. There is no next time."

He hisses. Wordless, angry. But—

"It's okay," he manages. Teeth still gritted. "It's. Fine. Can-can you. Tell me. About when you were a kid. Any-anything. Just. Talk-talk to me, just talk to me."

"God. Yeah, um…" She casts about for something safe to talk about, desperately trying to think of something that won't make this worse, desperately trying to think of anything that isn't 'what the FUCK.' Her first thought is, the road trips, but she remembers she told him they were partly because of her father's work at the spacefield in Metro and she isn't sure if he'll make the connection between that and the government and she isn't sure she ever wants him to make that connection and—

"Please," he gasps again, and tilts his head forward to thunk painfully against hers. Moves his trembling hands to her shoulders and holds on. "Please."

"So, so when I was a kid," she says, "um. We had a creek. Behind our house. It wasn't big, just a little thing, but it never ran dry…I used to spend whole days back there, just splashing around. I'd catch crawdads. Have you ever…seen…? No streams, just the lake for you? Okay. God, okay, that's…sad. But, but so, the way you catch them is," she gulps and tries to steady herself for him, tries to focus on her memories instead of the supervillain in front of her with his teeth chattering and his eyes squeezed shut, "you turn over rocks. They hide under rocks. And you have to be quick to catch them, they're so fast, but—and you have to be careful with the rocks, too, because there's all kinds of stuff under them. Caddisfly larvae, and hellgrammites, and…and eggs of stuff. Little soft things. So you don't want to just flip rocks willy-nilly or you'll kill something, so you just, you lift it on one end and grab for the crawdad and then you put the rock back down. Carefully." She swallows again and Megamind shifts his grip, clinging with cold, bony fingers. His head is warm under her hand, which is odd; the rest of his skin has always been freezing in comparison to her own. "I'd spend hours by that creek. Farther down it widened out into this big pond behind my neighbor's house down the street. He didn't mind if we played there, so, sometimes I'd go see about the minnows and the catfish. I'd catch newts and water bugs and pollywogs. I brought pollywogs home sometimes, to watch them grow up, and then we'd let them go.

"I haven't thought about any of this in years," she adds. "Is—is this helping, or—"

He nods against her.

"Good. Um. There was, there was a fishbowl we had," she says, "with flat sides. We'd put the pollywogs there. And, and sometimes when we didn't have any of those, I'd find caterpillars in the garden, and we'd raise those into butterflies. Tiger swallowtails, mostly, but we got some black swallowtails, too. And monarchs. Some painted ladies."

"You did this a lot," he rasps.

"Yeah, all the time. Until we moved, anyway—when I went into high school. Mom moved out to this place on the coast. There's a long staircase down the cliff to this rocky beach, which is super cool, don't get me wrong. But…no more crawdads."

After a couple seconds, still shaking, Megamind slowly lifts his head. Drops his hands. Roxanne hesitates, then drops hers, too, to take hold of his so he can't start scratching again. Her heart does an uncomfortable twitchy thing when Megamind curls his fingers around hers as soon as she touches him.

For a moment, Roxanne just sits with him in the quiet, holding his hands, staring through him and trying not to let her horror choke her.

What. The fuck.

Okay. So. She doesn't know who hurt him, but she knows they had Megamind for some amount of time, at some point before she knew him. She knows they hurt him badly. They put something in his—in his skull, jesus christ—and some of it is gone, but some of it is just…what, healed over? So, either they couldn't remove all of it, or they were expecting to get him back again in the future.

Probably the problem with what they found was not simply that it was a launch site, then.

Still, she's hesitant to speculate without really anything to go on. Roxanne knows more than her fair share of the political situation of extraterrestrials on Earth—outworlders; extraterrestrial has some unfortunate paranormal baggage, associated more with places like the tourist trap earlier than with actual people—thanks to her friendship with Metro Man and some of her own connections. A lot is classified, but Roxanne is very, very good at what she does. She's done a lot of research, a lot of digging over the years, and whatever happened to Megamind…if it was governmental, if it was federal, it would have had to be pre-1986. That was when some black-ops government organization was dismantled and moved under the supervision of the FBI—President Reagan largely hadn't cared beyond lip service what was organized where—Roxanne doesn't know all the details, but…

It's sick. She barely remembers anything from those years except that her mother had had a rough time of it because Roxanne's father was on some business trip out east for most of that fall, Drew was eleven and starting to get into fights, and Roxanne was…five.

Roxanne was going into kindergarten.

Megamind isn't much older than she is.

She clears her throat a little, hoping she's wrong. "You, um. You would have been…what, seven? Eight years old? For this?"

Slowly, his gaze moves to meet hers. His eyes are wet but his expression has gone completely blank.

Roxanne swallows hard. "I know a lot about outworlder refugees," she says, "my dad works in…kind of a…an administrative…ambassador? Role? In refugee placement?"

Megamind blinks once.

"I'm guessing your stuff all went down before nineteen eighty-six?"

His lips move, silent. Eighty-four.

"Then I don't know if this will help, but there are so many measures in place now to prevent whatever crap happened to you. Haven't you ever wondered why nobody ever came after Metro Man? Even just for, like, DNA samples to clone him for super-soldiers or something?"

Megamind's expression flickers.

"He always says it's because he was adopted," Roxanne says. "By the Scott family. High profile, deep wallets. Political. But…I think we both know that only goes so far. In this country."

Green eyes narrow. Glaring, confused.

"I want to call some people tonight or tomorrow, if that's okay," she says. "Just, you know, check a few things. But. Yeah I'm pretty sure whatever happened to you cannot happen again. At least not in the US, not without being very, very illegal. But if that's somehow not the case," she adds, "if it isn't…I don't care how long it takes, I will blow whatever it is all the way open."

He opens his mouth. His throat works for a moment until finally he rasps, "They will firebomb your apartment."

"Uh-huh, that's when I'll know I'm on the right track," she says. "That's when I'll know I'm getting a Pulitzer, ha. Besides, you won't let that happen to me."

Megamind is still staring at her, but at least now he's wearing an expression. Roxanne isn't sure what this one is—he's studying her face, almost, and he doesn't look like he's about to cry but that's certainly the shape of his mouth—

"No," he says, gripping her hand again, squeezing it. "No, I won't. And I am…sorry," he adds, features twisting, lips pulling back from his teeth. Breath hissing between them. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay—"

"Shouldn't have to call—go to the trouble—"

"It's okay—"

"It isn't," he snaps, so sharply that she jumps. He lets go of her hand almost angrily as he says, "This—was—completely unacceptable."

His whole body is shaking, and Roxanne stares at him, worried and confused. He had seemed like he was starting to calm down, but now he's hissing and snarling and sliding into his villain's accent and she isn't sure what to say or how to help or even what set him off this time.

"Weak, useless—force you to deal with my, my pathetic—lack of base-basic self-discipline, my—"

"What?"

"—childish goddamned tantrums, I'm—can't believe I just—"

Aghast, Roxanne reels back in shock. She's still queasy with everything else she just learned, but this hits like a slap in the face and throws her for enough of a loop that she blurts, "Childish—oh, my god, no—stop! Megamind! Stop!"

"This is pathetic," he spits, wrenching out of her grasp when she moves to take him by the arms again. "This is pathetic! This whole thing is—stupid, ridiculous—tchhhh, look at me, supervillain on fucking vacation, forgetting my place—I know what I am, I know where I belong—worthless, screw-up—"

"No, you're—"

"Waste of energy, waste of resources, what are you doing with me—"

"Megamind—"

"Stupid fucking idiot human thinks she's found a friend," he snarls, "can't figure out it's a worthless waste of her fucking time—"

The back of Roxanne's neck goes hot and prickly and she pulls up short.

Interestingly, so does Megamind. Roxanne recoils and Megamind's breath immediately catches and he sort of shudders, a violent tremor down his frame; his teeth are still bared, but he's shaking and shaking and shaking and shaking and his pupils are blowing wide and pinning down, blowing wide and pinning down—

"What the fuck did you just say to me," Roxanne says, soft.

"No, I," he says, the rage in his face cracking into something closer to anguish around the edges, "I didn't—I'm—but I—"

"Yes I have found a friend," she says. "It's not my fault if he can't figure out he's a good one."

Megamind stares at her.

Roxanne swallows. Her ears are ringing. "That was not," she says, gripping her knees and looking him in the eye despite the disorienting fluctuations of his pupils, "a tantrum."

His lip starts to curl but Roxanne snaps, "Don't. Don't start. I swear to god, don't you start on yourself again," and Megamind—pauses—

The space around them is cluttered with the various small detritus that accumulates over the course of two days in a small vehicle. Food wrappers in bags to throw away later, empty bottles. Napkins. Their chairs are warm and the ship's metal walls are shining dull with the interior lights and the sunlight falling through the windshield. Small dust turns in the air.

In front of her, Megamind is curled around himself, hugging his arms across his chest. He usually has such an upright bearing; seeing him so hunched over is deeply strange. His thin features are drawn and he's glaring hard enough that most people would probably look at his face and only see fury, but Roxanne knows him, knows how to read the edges of his expression. And he's like her. Anger is a handy shield. He is fighting back tears, she can see him.

So she steels herself. "That was not a tantrum," she says again. "That WAS NOT about self-discipline. That was…this is," she realizes, "a goddamned panic attack. This…god, I think maybe it's also some kind of…post-traumatic flashback? I don't know, but it isn't your fault. This was not your fault."

Again his expression starts to twist, but Roxanne grabs his arm. "Stop. Hey. No."

He shakes his head and yanks himself away from her. Roxanne keeps going anyway, relentless. Trying to stay calm over her pounding heart.

"You remember that one time last year, you came over to hang out but I had just had some huge fight with my mom and I was so mad and I couldn't stop crying? And you let me rant at you and cry on you basically nonstop for like…almost an hour?"

He sits. Still just glaring at her, trembling badly, arms clenched.

"Was I pathetic?" She cocks her head, eyes wide, challenging. "Was I a waste of your time?"

"That—no! That was different," he rasps, "it was different—"

"Why? Just because it's you this time?"

"Yes!" As though this should be obvious. "Yes! It's—I am—the Master of All fucking Villainy and I need to have some basic self-self control! Pride in my work!" He throws a hand into the air and then squeezes both arms across his chest again. "Not lose my mind at—my, my pawn, make her deal with my—childish selfishness—"

"Whose words are those?" she exclaims. "Megamind, please!"

"Worthless goddamned waste of space—"

"Enough!"

"I'm—"

"Stop being mean to my friend!"

It's trite, maybe a little ridiculous. But really, Roxanne is a trouper but there is only so much she can take—and this does make him pause and send her an expression of undisguised bewilderment, so.

"That's ENOUGH!" she cries. "Stop it stop it stop it! I don't know where on earth you learned all those awful things but they're WRONG!" Her vision has gone hot and swimmy; she shakes her head hard. "Don't—don't you tell me I'm wasting my time! Don't you tell me I'm wasting my energy on my friend and don't you DARE call yourself such horrible names! Just for freaking out! What the hell!"

He's staring at her again, but this time his eyes are going wider and wider and his mouth is turned down at the corners and he's shrinking into his shoulders.

"And! I am not your pawn! I am your FRIEND! And I am not going to sit here and watch you hurt yourself for the massive, unforgivable crime of having messy feelings! Do you trust me?"

He gulps. His lips part.

"Megamind do you trust me?"

Hesitant, he nods.

"Then believe me! Not whoever said that crap to you before. Believe me!" She seizes him by the arms. He lets her, this time. "You! Have done nothing wrong today!"

He flinches. Physically, his shoulders come even farther up and his body jerks back and his fingers curl into his palms as he yanks them against his thin chest.

"It's okay," Roxanne says. She sits back and blots her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater. Trying to bring her volume down, trying to calm down, trying to think of fears so she can head them off, trying— "It really really is. I'm sorry it happened but I don't mind, I'm not upset, I—I don't think any less of you! I promise! I promise you haven't done anything wrong! And I still think you're great! Please stop trying to, to…what, punish yourself for hurting? I don't know whose words those were but they weren't yours. They weren't yours! Please don't make them be yours!"

He drops his gaze, and—

Slowly. Very slowly. He moves a hand forward.

His pointed face is drawn tight with stress and something that looks like pain. He curls his trembling fingers around Roxanne's palm where she's holding onto her knee again—she immediately wraps her own around his instead and holds on—and he opens his mouth.

His throat works for a moment.

When he speaks, it's with Roxanne's voice. Her exact voice and her words from earlier that day.

"Oh, my god, that is what happened, isn't it," Megamind plays back, holding onto her hand like a lifeline, not looking at her.

Roxanne quickly drags her facial expression back under control; she cannot risk looking surprised right now, not with Megamind both doing something so incredibly alien and having actually deliberately reached for her. "Are you…also having an epiphany? Too?"

He swallows. It's still her voice, higher this time and terribly agitated, from just a minute ago, choppy this time, "I think.it's also some kind of.flashback?"

Roxanne nods and squeezes. "Yeah, I…yeah, I wouldn't be surprised. I'm so sorry. You're with me, though, okay? You're with me, you're safe now. I've got you. It'll be okay, we'll get you through this."

He uncurls his other hand and pushes his palm against his chest, sort of hunches around it.

His breathing is picking up a little. His expression is pinching and his mouth—opens—he chokes and shakes his head, gulps—tries again—but his breathing—

He gags. Squeezes his teeth closed, then silently opens his mouth again. Squeezes her hand, tugs—tugs again—glances at her, away, eyes flicking back and forth—struggling—

"You don't have to," Roxanne whispers, aching, watching him trying to get words out, "it's okay."

Megamind's face scrunches into a sort of agonized half-nod of acknowledgement, but…something is still…

He tugs on her hand. So lightly. It's barely a tug, almost just a twitch, but…

An idea strikes.

Roxanne blurts her best guess for what it is that he wants and immediately Megamind's eyes flick to her and fly wide and his hand clenches hard and—he gasps—

The words are barely out of her mouth when Megamind plays them back to her like an echo.

"Can I have a hug?"

She scrambles forward and wraps her arms around him as hard as she can. One foot on the floor, one knee on the seat of his chair, as close as she can get without being completely in his lap. "Yes of course," she exclaims, "of course you can! You always can!"

His skinny arms come around her waist and he turns his face to her shoulder.

(It is a damned good thing Megamind's tongue has temporarily abandoned him, or everything he never wanted to say to her would fall out of his mouth in a tumble, beginning with I love you I love you I love you so much and ending with thank you for catching me thank you for hearing me thank you for knowing me, I am sorry I am sorry I am sorry I exist please kill me.

Which. He's pretty sure Roxanne would probably object to.)

Roxanne holds onto him and slowly exhales.

She's heard about the mimicry thing previously, but she's never actually been present for it. That was wild. Incredibly weird to hear her own voice from his mouth with so little distortion.

…God. What even was all of that? Okay, so…whatever that door was sent him on some kind of spectacularly awful trip down memory lane, yes. But then this second part…what, just for freaking out? She'd had no idea he was carrying anything this strong. He's always seemed so fabulously proud. Yes, she's known some of that had to be an act, but…this was…way worse than she ever would have expected. And what on earth was going on with his accent?

She swallows. She can think about that later. Circle back. Bring it back to the catalyst.

"There is no next time," she tells him, quiet. "Understand? There is no next time, not for you, not for anybody. Understand?"

He nods.

"We won't let there be a next time. Yes? Trust me?"

He nods again. Shoves his face harder against her shoulder. Wraps his arms tighter around her. Roxanne puts her hand on his head again, where he showed her, and holds him there.

"Sor-sorry," he gasps out, muffled. It's his own voice again, finally, but it's thick with tears and he's dragging his fingers in the back of her shirt, clutching at her. "Sorry—I'm—I'm sorry, I didn't—I didn't mean it. I didn't mean it."

"I know. It's okay."

"I didn't mean it."

"I know. I promise I know, I'm not mad. No one is upset with you, nothing is wrong."

She feels his hands curl into fists against her as he shakes his head.

"You were panicking," Roxanne says. "It's okay. Obviously it's…something to try not to do, but…I get it. I'm not upset. I'm not hurt, I promise. Okay?"

His arms go tighter but he doesn't otherwise respond.

What was it he said yesterday…?

She has her knee on his chair by his hip, her other foot braced on the floor of the airship he built, with one arm around his bony shoulders and her other hand on the back of his head. Where he showed her. Where they hurt him.

"You get infinite try-agains, too," she tells him. "Remember?"

There's a pause—

And then his arms go so tight her ribs creak, and he gasps, and his shoulders—hitch—

"Okay," Roxanne murmurs, for probably the fiftieth time that day. "Okay. Shhh."

Megamind cries silently. It's awful, the way he jerks and shudders and chokes himself back. But he isn't verbally abusing himself, so, that's…a step. Heaven only knows what he's thinking, but he isn't berating himself out loud. It's a step.

He won't be the first friend Roxanne has had who beat himself this way. Even her brother fought through something that sounded…not the same, but similar, in some ways. Years ago, before he started going to therapy and getting help with his own demons.

"I still like you," she tells him, and—

To her surprise, he wrenches himself backwards and stares up at her. His eyes are swimming, his eyeliner is smudged around them. "Why?"

Baffled, all she can do is stare back. "Because you're you? Listen, I don't know how to say this without sounding super condescending, but I did not start liking you because I thought you were a pillar of unflappable mental stability."

Megamind blinks once, then gives a wet sort of snort.

"If you cast your mind back I think you'll remember the first time we hung out socially was after I found you freaking out in my shower, so, you know, expecting you to never ever show an emotion where I can see you? Sooo not an expectation I have ever had. It'd be so unfair, oh, my god."

"Everyone else seems to think otherwise," he rasps, "but when have you ever been 'everyone else.'"

She sends him a smile, then drags him into another hug. Aching aching aching at the slow squeeze of his hands in her sweater.

Then she finally sits back, and nods. "Okay," she says again, "so…let's get to the hotel? Or—bed and breakfast, whatever. Should only be another hour on the road if I fly fast. I can…do you want…?"

Once upon a time, Megamind would probably have tried to bluster. Would have tried to insist, even now, that he was fine and he could fly. Once upon a time was…only a few months ago, really.

But now he's nodding, nodding, and Roxanne wants so badly to hug him again for it. For letting her help, for letting her try. 

"Do you need to get out and stretch first? Okay, then away we go."

She climbs back into the pilot's chair and fires up the ship. It's amazing: even wrung-out and worried, she still feels far and away more comfortable at the controls today than she did yesterday. She noticed that earlier, too. Sleeping must have helped; she can't think of any other reason for why she's more confident opening the fuel lines and power cells and getting them in the air, or why it feels so much easier to pilot them back down onto the highway. It's all still very new, it isn't intuitive yet, but she isn't white-knuckling the control sticks today.

Which is definitely for the best, because Megamind hesitates and then slowly pulls his feet out of his boots and his knees up to his chest, and curls up against the far wall of the airship.

"Will you be all right," he says, low. "If I close my eyes—?"

"Oh, definitely," Roxanne replies. "Yeah, I should be fine. I don't mind if you try to nap. I am going to put the…the transparency back on, though, okay?"

"Fundamentally incorrect," he sighs, shutting his eyes and tipping his head away. One hand holding onto the back of his head, the other tucked under his feet, across his legs. "But I suppose it works as a descriptor."

Roxanne stifles a laugh, and is rewarded with something like a reluctant chuckle from Megamind's direction.

Then—

"I don't deserve you," he says.

She glances over at him. His eyes are open, just a little; he's looking at her. Slivers of green under tired lids.

"You're the smartest person I know." His voice cracks. "I didn't…I didn't mean…I'm…"

"Megamind. I know you didn't." She sends him a smile. "I knew as soon as you said it. I'm not hurt, it's really okay."

I'm not upset because you called me stupid, you dingus, I'm upset because somebody made you think you're a waste of my time, but she can't tell him that without risking him putting up a fight neither of them has the energy for.

Megamind closes his eyes, and Roxanne hurls them both towards Denver.

Chapter Text

The capital of Colorado is shockingly large for a landlocked metropolitan area, but it’s a major gateway to the Rockies and trade has been kind to her. Skyscrapers rise from downtown, highways bypass and break through. She’s still smaller than Metro City and less densely-populated, but she always manages to feel bigger than she is.

"Last of the old west, best of the flyover cities. It's not clean, but it's functional," said a lady Roxanne met once who was from the area, who was also a little bit into her cups at that point.

"Not…clean?"

"Not like here."

Roxanne had blinked. "Metro is clean?"

"Girl, Metro City is, like, weirdly clean. Like I could run down the street barefoot, no worries, clean. Better nightlife here, too. Also all your cars are smaller."

Roxanne hasn't spent enough time in Colorado to be able to agree or disagree on most of it, but the note about the cars, at least, was definitely true. She hadn't ever specifically noticed previously, but after driving this way a few more times, she realized—huh. Yeah. Other cars on the road do reliably grow progressively larger and larger the deeper into Colorado she gets, and now that she's looking for it, it never fails to make her grin.

Unfortunately, she doesn't have a whole lot of room in her mind for amusement right now.

Their bed and breakfast isn't in the heart of downtown, it's on the outskirts, but decently within walking distance of several shops and restaurants and urban enough to make parking a nightmare. The Magic Shoes may have a cozy cockpit, but she's not small; obviously they cannot park on the street or sidewalk. The roof of the B&B isn't flat. Roxanne circles the block three times trying to think of what to do that doesn't involve waking Megamind up.

Her first, mostly unserious thought is that maybe she could ask someone on the block if they would accept cash to let her park in their little backyard, assuming they have one. But then she sees the parking garage down and across the street from the place they'll be staying. That probably has more parking potential than a random neighbor's back garden.

But how to get into it? Once again, the Magic Shoes isn't small. It's not as though Roxanne can go through the usual gate…

No. No. She can't do that but she also doesn't NEED to do that; Megamind undoubtedly built this thing to be able to park wherever he needed to. Yesterday—god, was it only yesterday?—he parked it on the roof of her building. There's room at the top of the parking garage; there's ALWAYS room at the top of the parking garage. And there must be a way up the side. There must be a way to get this little thing up the side.

Still slowly circling the block, Roxanne eyes her indicators and control rods, and thinks about the humming line of blue that runs around the perimeter of the ship. It's brighter and wider at the nose and tail, and at the tips of the wings. From a couple days of flying her, and from what she knows of Megamind, and from a few things he's said about the way the ship works…if Roxanne pulls energy towards the Magic Shoes' nose and aims them at the building, and then rocks her hands back on the rods the way she would if she wanted to gain altitude while level…she thinks maybe that would pull the ship up the wall. Shift the field alignment from horizontal to perpendicular, and then crawl upward as she works the field alignment back to horizontal again. Right?

Her teeth in her lip and her gut still seething with worry, she pulls the ship up higher, aims her at the wall of the parking garage's corner support, and looks up at the ceiling and turns off her pitch stabilizers.

Then she glances at her companion. Megamind is still curled up in the passenger seat with his head on the side of the airship, but his shoulders have relaxed and his hands are loose. His lips are parted in sleep.

It'll be fine. Roxanne will be fine; she doesn't need to wake him. Okay, she thinks at her vessel. Come on. We can do this.

And she does.

Roxanne's lip is white around her teeth and her hands are tense on the control rods, but Megamind showed her yesterday how to change the ship's pitch, and which indicators to look at, and what to look for. Gravity pulls her back against her seat—and then the Magic Shoes is steadily climbing the side of the garage, perpendicular to the ground.

YES.

…Unfortunately, this also shifts Megamind significantly enough that he rouses. "Hmgh? Wh…oh we're vertical you got us vertical why would you not wake me up," he groans, lifting his head and starting to uncurl—and then wincing and lifting a hand to the side of his neck.

"I can do it!" Roxanne says, not taking her eyes off the building or her dashboard. "I can do it, I knew I could do it, I didn't want to wake you until we parked."

He makes an extremely disgruntled sound, and then a sound of pain as he slowly eases his feet onto the floor.

"And—there, see? I did it." She flicks the pitch stabilizers on again, then unfolds the center landing strut and lowers them into a spare six parking spaces near the corner she's just crawled up. "Ha! So there. You okay?"

"Oh, of course," he says, with something like a laugh. "I'm—I might—I'm fine. I'll be fine."

"Uh huh," Roxanne says. "Can you power down the airship? I'll get out and get our stuff."

"Yes," he says, with a twitch that might be a nod, and another wince and stifled sound of pain. "Yes. Good plan. You—and, and you—did well. You did well. Well done."

So Roxanne turns and gets out of his way, and quickly exits through the hatch to give Megamind some privacy sorting himself out. She climbs down the spikes on the wing, same as usual, thankful all over again for all the yoga she's doing and her flexibility into her late thirties, and…

…Hmmm.

When Megamind pokes his head out of the exit hatch, he's a lot less blinky and sleepy-looking, but his movements are slower than usual and Roxanne can tell, even from this vantage, that his teeth are gritted. Good lord, he really wasn't kidding when he warned her he would get stiff if he didn't stretch regularly. She can't blame him for not wanting to get out when they were still at the strip mall, but…ouch.

"Here," she says, and climbs back up the spikes on the wing, this time wearing the hiking boots she quickly changed into on the ground. Good rubber, deep treads, good traction. She plants a foot on a metal fin and shifts herself sideways to make room for him, then reaches for Megamind's arm, catches his elbow, and helps him struggle out onto the wing.

"You…ah! Ha. I knew those boots were a good idea," he teases, breathless. "I thank you, Miss Ritchi."

"Of course," she says with a bright smile; "I can't let my good friend fall on his face on the asphalt. Or impale himself on his own spikes! How embarrassing would that be?"

"So embarrassing," he groans, twisting awkwardly to seal the hatch behind himself. Grinning at the startled way he spluttered at good friend, Roxanne reaches past him to hold it shut while he throws the clasps and locks them down. "It would be so embarrassing."

He starts to wiggle past her. Roxanne holds onto his arm with both hands.

"And step—step—watch your hip—"

The spikes on the wing are useful for climbing, but they are also sharp. Megamind wiggles his little skinny body down between them until he can finally drop safely onto the ground when Roxanne lets go.

"You should maybe install a ladder, or something," she says, hopping down after him and unlacing her boots. He's on his feet, slowly twisting his body, rolling his shoulders. "If you're ever injured or dizzy and you can't climb up…"

"Agreed." He starts to look up at the hatch, then grimaces and stops turning his head. "Nngh. Yes, I think…move the hatch backwards on the fuselage, away from the wing, and then…a ladder, yes. Or stairs on the landing gear, and a ventral hatch…? Projects for when we get home, hooray."

Roxanne looks at him. "Seriously, you okay?"

"I will be okay tomorrow," he says, firm. "I just need to stretch out."

"That wasn't really what I—"

"I will be okay tomorrow. I just need to stretch out."

Roxanne pauses, then says, in a quiet tone that makes Megamind want to snarl at her, "Okay. That's okay."

He grits his teeth.

She offers him her arm but he shakes his head, so she finally just shrugs and heads for the stairs. She does pull his bag onto her shoulder, though, and she refuses to give it back.

"I can carry your stuff in," she rolls her eyes, which eases his mood somewhat. "Come on, it's fine. You'd do the same for me."

"Mleh mleh mleh mleh," he mocks. "I absolutely would not, how dare you."

Trotting down the stairs ahead of him, she flips him the bird over her shoulder, and he snorts.

The front door of the large house in which they'll be staying is heavy wood, but it opens easily enough on its hinges into a lovely if somewhat narrow sunroom that looks out onto the street. Megamind follows Roxanne inside, glancing up and all around at the place as best he can without turning his head too far and trying not to look as nervous as he feels. He is far from home and that's a good thing, it's a good thing; no one will call the police on him here. And—and he has no crimes here! He has not done anything wrong here, yet. He's just an alien on vacation. He is on vacation and that's fine. He filed everything he needed to file before he left; all his papers are in order to let him travel. He'll be fine. He's fine. He is fine and he is definitely not at all two steps from losing his mind all over again and these are not lies.

"Ritchi," says the lady at the desk, "two rooms, adjoining bathroom. We've got you on the second floor. But if stairs are a problem," glancing at Megamind, eyes flicking up and down, "there is an accessible room on the ground floor we can…?"

"I will be fine," Megamind says. "Fine with stairs, I do not need to take the—other—room."

"You sure?" Roxanne asks, and he nods as vigorously as his cramping neck will allow.

"Yes. Yes! I am fine! Ha ha," he is far too aware of the stranger's eyes on him, "I just need to stretch! Obviously!"

"All righty," the lady says, and she hands them a pair of big metal keys. "Second floor then, you're rooms 201 and 203. If you go out tonight, we lock up at eleven, but those keys will let you in the door into the hallway around the back, up the garden path. If you need anything after hours, you've got my Lorrie's cell number printed on the tag and here's her card just in case that gets lost, do not hesitate to call her; she'll take care of you."

"Sounds good." Roxanne tucks the card into her wallet and the keys into her pocket.

"What time do you want breakfast? We usually have everything ready by seven-thirty, but we can go earlier if you need to head out before that."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Roxanne assures her. "Seven-thirty is fine. We'll probably be down around…eeeigghht?" Looking over her shoulder at Megamind.

He nods again.

He wants to lie down so badly. He does not recognize the woman at the desk, and he didn't recognize either of the men sitting in the sun room, and he does not recognize the smell of this place or the street outside or the enormous mountains looming over everything, breaking the sky. Of course he wouldn't recognize any of them, but it is so jarring, and if he has to talk to more strangers before he gets into his room he is going to start screaming and crying and never stop.

…Well. He'll want to, anyway. He won't actually. That horrible door in the ground that yawned so wide it would swallow him into its secret hidden depths is far behind him now. He has had a small nap and he's on his feet and once again able—for now—to hold himself in check against the hissing in his mind. Most of which is still screaming at him for letting Roxanne see him like that, but, really, what other choice did he have?

Weak. Pathetic. Unable to just keep himself under control like a fucking adult.

"Thanks," Roxanne is saying to the lady, "we'll be down around eight. Oh, which one is the room with the, um…?"

"The tub? All the way on the end."

Roxanne sends her a sparkling smile and a nod. "Fantastic, thanks."

"Give us a call or come on down for a chat if your plans change or you need any advice on places to go," the lady says. "Enjoy!"

And then there are more stairs. Up, this time.

They're actually honestly not bad; they help work the knots out of Megamind's calves and hips. By the time he gets to the second-floor landing, he's feeling a lot better and a lot more awake. But Roxanne is used to elevators and very slightly out of breath at the top, so Megamind is able to steal his bag back from her.

"Hey!"

"Blehhh," he says, sticking his tongue out at her and spinning on his heel to walk down the hall backwards from her.

"I try to do something nice," she complains, grinning, breathing hard. "Glad you're feeling better."

"I felt fine to begin with," he sniffs, haughty, "I do not have any idea what you're talking about. What was this 'tub' she—"

A door opens to their left and he launches himself straight up like a rabbit and grabs at his leg where his gun should be.

"Ope! Sorry!" A teenager is coming out of one of the rooms—they look about as startled as Megamind does, and they're doing the same up-down stare everyone else does upon seeing him. "Sorry! Haha! Just gonna squeak on past ya here, have a great day!"

"Ahaha yes," Megamind says, eyes huge, "yes! Goodbye!" and Roxanne laughs and bumps him with her hip on her way past.

"Come on, you," she says, "I want to get into our rooms. Which are…here!"

The house is set against a slight hill, which means the 'back garden' referred to downstairs is actually accessible via the second floor. There's an external door at the end of the hall, but also…

Megamind unlocks his door and stops dead in his tracks, relief sweeping through him from the ease of stress he had not realized he was carrying, because—there's a door. In his room. There is a door leading outside onto a small patio actually in his actual room. Ducking through the bath and peering into Roxanne's reveals no matching door. Also, significantly fewer decorations than his own absurdly opulent quarters, but that barely registers. What…? Why does he have his own door?

…She found him a room with a door? Roxanne gave him an escape route? Was this intentional?

Roxanne tosses her bag onto her bed, then checks out the adjoining bathroom between their two rooms. Walk-in shower, sink, toilet. Linen shelves with fluffy green towels. Nice.

And going through to Megamind's room reveals the lovely open space outside she was so excited about when she saw it online, weeks ago. His room is on the end, which means he has two walls with windows in them, and afternoon sunlight pouring in. There's a little garden outside with a tiny table and two chairs and a door leading out, and a bed similar to Roxanne's. And, in another corner…

"What on earth is this," Megamind says, staring with big tired eyes. "Is it a bathtub?"

An absolutely massive copper soaking tub on a raised part of the floor, with a folded towel 'pillow' on one end to let the bather tip their head back and relax.

"Why is it in the middle of the room?" he says.

"Soooo remember how I said this place wasn't on the water?" Roxanne asks. "Well, I still wanted to find you SOME kind of water on-site, so…fancy bathtub! For hot baths! Which, honestly, probably a good idea after being all cramped up in the airship. It'll be good for you, I bet."

Megamind stares at her with his mouth open for a moment before he recovers. "You are wonderful," he says, fervent. "Truly, Roxanne, you are…fantastic."

She beams. "Yeah?"

He nods—

Hesitates—

And then he thinks, oh, to hell with it, and he drops his bag on his bed and crosses the room in two steps and throws his arms roughly around her.

"Oh! Ha ha." She puts her hands on his shoulderblades. "You're sweet."

He steps back. "I am probably going to have a bath," he says, heart pounding and head spinning with a combination of oh wow nothing bad happened, got hugged back, wow, and HOWDAREYOU HOWDAREYOU HOWDAREYOU, "and then I am definitely going to have a nap."

"Thoughts on dinner?"

"My thoughts on dinner are that I do not want any dinner."

Roxanne lifts her eyebrows at him and waits.

"…but Minion would tell you I will likely want something later," he admits. "Somehow I doubt this place is equipped for sandwiches."

She shakes her head. "Probably not. And I'm going to go out on a limb and guess you're not super into the idea of wandering around town today."

Megamind pulls a face. "Is there an alternative?"

Roxanne's eyebrows go up. "Oh, definitely! Yeah. Tell you what," she says, going to the nightstand and retrieving the little pad of paper and pen there with the B&B's logo on them, and handing them to Megamind. "Why don't you jot down some of your safe foods, and anything I should avoid. And when I go out around…probably seven-ish, I'll see what I can find, and I'll bring something back for you. For now, I'm going to get my stuff together for a shower. Okay?"

Tired down to his bones, relieved beyond words at the confirmation he will not need to leave this room, Megamind nods.

It's probably less than a minute later when Megamind knocks on the bathroom door that opens into Roxanne's room. She opens it for him, her bag open and her clothes for later already laid out next to it on her bed. Skinny jeans, soft oversized sweater, big jewelry. The boots Minion made for her are on the floor.

Megamind hands her the pad. "I'll…use the bathroom? Quickly?" he asks. "And then you can have your shower."

"Perfect," Roxanne says, looking down the list. Her companion ducks back into the bathroom and closes the door.

Best foods: honey, tree nuts, fish, eggs, chicken, fruit, rice, most vegetables. Soft goat and sheep cheeses currently okay. Avoid cow milk and cheese, peanuts, mushrooms, corn & corn-based sweeteners, and citrus (except lemon).

'Currently' okay for certain kinds of cheese makes her tilt her head a little, but the except lemon makes her grin. Minion provided them with bottles and bottles of some kind of lemony almond-smelling drink for Megamind that will apparently make Roxanne horrendously sick if she tries even a sip of it, which is a shame because it smells incredible.

But, okay. She's pretty sure she can work with this.

Her shower is fabulous. This place has much better water pressure than the lodge in the middle of nowhere back in Missouri. Roxanne has a long, lovely shower, and then she finger-combs her hair into an approximation of its usual style without blow-drying it, puts on some eyeliner and mascara, and calls that good. Her hair will dry fluffy and a little wavy, but that's fine; she's on vacation. Plus, she had her fall highlights redone before she left Metro, so using heat on it isn't a good idea right now anyway. Nothing wrong with taking this opportunity to give her hair a break from her usual routine.

The boots Minion made her are similarly fabulous. They're a lot chunkier than she usually goes for, but they fit beautifully and they hug her legs all the way to her knees. And they have fantastic arch support. They go on over her dark jeans just fine, and Roxanne's jewelry is enough to balance out the boots' chains and spikes and buckles.

She heads downstairs and asks at the desk for recommendations for dinner within walking distance, and ends up with directions to a restaurant with a farm-to-table seasonal menu. A glance at their current offerings on her phone shows several items she's interested in, most of which seem like they'll be safe for Megamind as well.

It's been a while since Roxanne has taken herself out to eat, but she's never been one to shy away from dining alone. People-watching is always entertaining. And on the off chance it isn't, she also has her book with her.

Her purse also contains a spiral notebook and pen. She's hoping to maybe do the beginnings of some research on her phone, maybe take some notes. Maybe jot down what she can remember of what Megamind said earlier while he was in the grip of whatever horrible flashback episode that was. He had seemed…upsettingly startled at her assertion that what happened to him was illegal now. Roxanne isn't planning on asking him anything else about it tonight, but…if she needs to, she might see if he's willing to answer a couple questions tomorrow, after he's fully rested and eaten.

She also has her little smirking stone alien. For company.

Megamind stands in his room for a while. Looking…around.

This 'bed and breakfast' is quite a bit different from the rustic house he shared with Roxanne in Missouri yesterday, on the lake. This place is also large, but it's full of people. At least his and Roxanne's rooms have their own bathroom. At least he doesn't have to leave until tomorrow, if he doesn't want to.

He really, really doesn't want to.

In the bathroom, the shower kicks on. A shudder runs down his body and he shakes his head, then realizes he's been rubbing and scratching at the place behind his ear where—

Megamind lets out a hiss like an angry swan and spins on his heel, looking for a distraction, his work, his tablet, a brainbot he can disassemble and reassemble, but—all of those things are still in the airship. He had not bothered to retrieve any of them before coming inside, had not thought to mention it to Roxanne. Going downstairs and getting them is, of course, an option, but the idea of leaving his room makes his stomach physically turn.

So. It's just…Megamind, alone with his thoughts.

That's a combination that runs the risk of turning fraught on a good day, and today is very much not a good day.

He shudders again, standing on the rug in this sort of antique Victorian bedroom, surrounded by rich colors and fabrics, and—

Snaps his hand back down again with a curse under his breath and folds his arms across his chest; can he please just—fucking relax, can he just—get OVER this already! It has been thirty years and he's still—

Pathetic, he thinks, but this time he remembers, he still has Roxanne's voice fresh in his mind demanding he be nicer to himself, and—

A ghost of the old pain tickles behind his head and he snarls into the silence of the room.

The garden outside is empty. However, if someone were to walk through, and look in through one of the windows, they would see a skinny alien in a black tee shirt and black skinny jeans, stock-still in the middle of a hotel room with his hands tucked under his arms and all of his teeth bared, wearing a bleak scowl. Breathing hard.

Indoors, Megamind makes a decision.

He sinks to his knees on the rug right where he is. Balls his hands into fists, and presses them to his knees. Lifts his chin to balance his head as though floating it on the top of his long spine.

A bath would be nice, but…no. Naps are something Megamind wants extremely rarely, but he wants a nap more than anything else in the world right now and he will not be able to sleep while he's wound tick-tight and jittering. He also wants to be calm when Roxanne returns, he wants to be able to eat dinner, and there's no guarantee he'll be in any fit state to eat or socialize if he knuckles under the breakdown he knows is coming. So. He lifts his chin, lifts his wide eyes to the sun just over the distant mountaintops, and focuses outside himself.

(The sea inside has him too close to shore. He's caught in the breakers and he's floundering, tired. He has two choices: to let the breaking waves turn him and toss him against the sand until they split his skin open and spit him out weeping. Unpleasant, but inevitable, eventually. Or…

Megamind stops clawing for the surface, stops fighting the breakers. He sinks himself into the pull of the current, he lays himself out, and finally he goes limp in the undertow.)

When he drops his watering eyes from the sun and blinks the spots away from his vision, the world around him is tilt-shifted and sharp-edged, its colors too bright and its shapes too much. Megamind is not outside himself, not pulled away from himself, but the body he's in just…a thing that he pilots. With a heart that he slows. His thoughts are mostly just tired. Dry. He can think clearly. Somewhere inside him, a child is screaming, but Megamind can recognize and ignore it for now.

He breathes a slow sigh, and gets to his feet.

He takes off his boots, and climbs into bed.

He lies down on his back.

He closes his eyes.

The world whirls up like vertigo around him—

—but he sleeps.

Chapter Text

The restaurant is small enough that Roxanne is pretty sure it's lucky she's showing up later in the evening, after most patrons have left. There are a couple empty tables, but most are still full up, and the person who greets her asks if she has a reservation. Seems hesitant, looking at the list, but then looks back at Roxanne, at her earrings and necklace and her boots, and—

"I'm also going to need to order food to take with me," Roxanne says, "if that's okay. My friend couldn't make it."

And so she gets one of the tables, the small one in the front window.

She smiles to herself. Dressing up and mentioning she plans to spend extra money has served her well in the past, too. It's never a sure thing, but it helps, especially when dining alone.

She orders a glass of dry white wine, and then a bowl of peach riesling soup with mint and lime to start off with. Dinner is sweet potato gnocchi in some kind of sauce that involves brown butter, basil, and shredded rabbit; that'll be interesting.

Okay.

She pulls out her notebook while she's waiting for her food, and jots down…1984. Gov't facility. Something in his head. Valve? She's pretty sure he said something about a valve.

…She pauses. Hmm. Maybe if she…

Her phone's screen makes her flinch and she hurriedly turns down the brightness; the sun has set and the restaurant's overhead lighting is quite dim. She has a candle on her table, a little oil-burning lamp. She opens Google, types valve in head skull medical.

Her brows pull together as she skims the results. "Shunt systems," she murmurs. "What on earth…"

The most common treatment for hydrocephalus is the surgical placement of a medical device called a shunt that drains the excess fluid from the brain to another part of the body. From context in the next few paragraphs, she gathers hydrocephalus is some kind of issue where an excess of cerebrospinal fluid builds up and puts pressure on the brain. So, something is needed to remove the extra…

Further down the page, she's pretty sure she gets confirmation. A small hole is drilled into the skull and a tube, called the proximal catheter, is gently guided through the brain into the ventricle. The tube is connected to a valve typically placed behind the ear. This valve mechanism regulates pressure by controlling how much fluid is allowed out of the brain to flow through the shunt tubing.

The tubes flow into different parts of the body, usually, she reads. God only knows if that was the case for Megamind, though; for him to have that strong of a reaction, that quickly, simply upon seeing a door that led underground…

With a shaking hand, she writes, cranial shunt? and then puts her phone away and stows her notebook, as well. She was hoping to to a little more thinking, a little more writing, but if she thinks any harder about this—about Megamind, and—this—she's going to lose her appetite. So. She puts her notes away and takes out her little stone alien bust to fidget with instead while she waits for her food to arrive.

She watches the world go by outside, people walking quickly in the chilly fall air after dark.

Yesterday, when she nearly rammed the little airship—the Magic Shoes, god, what a name; she still can't think of it without grinning at least a little—into the ground, Megamind was so kind to her about it. He didn't mock or even just scold her; he genuinely wasn't upset at all. He said getting yelled at for his mistakes never inspired him to do better. But then he had that…that flashback, and he really seemed to hate himself for it afterwards. Calling it a tantrum and berating himself, calling himself childish, pathetic, weak. It was such a far cry from the wise-cracking goofball she knows.

Absently rubbing her thumb up and down the stone figurine's forehead, Roxanne frowns.

She's about ninety percent sure the second part of his freakout was mostly a separate panic attack from the first. He flashed back at the door, and Roxanne tried to help him—succeeded in helping him!—and then some other ghost from Megamind's past came snarling to the fore, tearing him a new asshole for…what, daring to need help? For daring to struggle? It had sounded seriously harsh. Shockingly so. 

Is that…is that maybe something that happens more often than she's realized? He just doesn't usually say it? Out loud? It's possible he only freaked out about it as hard as he did today because he was already so jittery. It's possible he would have beaten himself for it anyway, silently, on another day.

She isn't sure. She certainly hopes not. Hopefully it was simply the result of having got stuck in his past, and not anything relevant to him on a daily basis.

Either way, at least he let her help him out of it. He let her hold him, in the end, and it had seemed to help, and he had not seemed to continue berating himself afterwards. That's something. It's something.

How easy it felt for her to reach out is…also something. Potentially. Roxanne would have done the same for any friend, but she still would have expected to feel some hesitation about being as deliberately physical with Megamind as she was this afternoon. He isn't particularly touchy-feely as far as she's ever known, and he is, after all, a professional supervillain. He covers himself in armor and spikes; that's a look that says 'Stay Away' if Roxanne has ever seen one. But she reached for him, and he let her. And he reached for her, too, in the end. In significant distress, moreover, which…

That's going to require some pondering.

Goofing off and horsing around together yesterday in the lake was just in fun. That was different; that felt like a sort of friendly version of the usual chase that occurs when Megamind fails to catch her fully unawares before knocking her out. Reaching to her in need of comfort isn't the same thing at all, and the fact that it was her voice that he needed, the fact that he didn't have another one to ask with, isn't sitting well with her.

When Megamind walked into her apartment after that argument with her mother a year or so ago, the one she reminded him of today, he was SO stiff and jumpy about being cried on. His sporadic visits were only just beginning to become more frequent, just a little bit closer to monthly than once in a blue moon, and he was twitchy and nervous and—honestly—not particularly helpful to talk to. Actually pretty awful at listening; he's come a long way since then. Still, he was there, and she could tell he was trying. He was also unexpectedly kind about the whole thing afterwards.

(By his standards, anyway. The next time he saw her, he made several cutting remarks about Roxanne's apparent lack of friends to turn to that might have been exceptionally mean coming from anyone else…but he also made it clear that he was not opposed to stepping in as an alternative, and when she informed him he was just the closest warm body to melt down on at the time and told him not to get used to it, he sneered and pouted and huffed at her instead of snarling, so. That was all right.)

He was very reluctant to touch her, though, and while he has never been shy about grabbing her as necessary for and during his plots and schemes, it has only ever been as necessary; Roxanne has thus far been operating under the casual belief that Megamind isn't comfortable with much contact outside of whatever is necessary for his job. Has she been wrong about that? He laid his hand on her head so easily at the twine earlier. He touched her hair. He seemed awfully startled when she hugged him, yes, but he returned her embrace quickly enough, and he didn't let go until she did…and yesterday when she was upset, he actually put his arms around her. He was awkward and stiff and it was only for a moment, but he did hold her, unprompted. And then he bonked her with his head. 

Sitting alone at this little table in a new city, staring out the window, Roxanne bites her lip.

He was panicking badly and wanted a hug, and he had no words to ask for one.

Well, she tells the ache hanging heavy in her chest, maybe she'll start reaching out to him a little more. It really did feel easy enough earlier, and now that she's thinking about it, perhaps that isn't so surprising after all. Megamind has always been a gentleman with her, physically. And he's a friend now. Honestly, he's turning out to be a better friend than she ever expected him to be—one of her best, for sure; she's actually vaguely missing his company right now. Going off by herself should feel like a simple relief, but instead, she's sitting here wishing she could hear his commentary on some of the people passing by outside. And Roxanne herself is certainly not opposed to friendly contact. It'll be nice.

Dinner arrives, and it is incredible. The gnocchi is soft, the cream sauce is rich, the shredded rabbit is all throughout everything. She can't immediately remember if she's ever had rabbit before, but she's definitely open to having it again after this.

She lays her thinking aside. There's nothing she can do about any of these troubles for the time being, so for now she'll just sit and enjoy her meal. Watch the people on the street and the people in the restaurant. Order Megamind's dinner so it'll be hot and ready to go when it's time to head back. Her unanswered questions can wait in her purse and the back of her mind until later; right now she has food to enjoy and a friend to return to, and the sound of the city around her.

She returns to the bed and breakfast with a full stomach and a plastic bag full of to-go containers in hand, feeling weirdly excited to find out whether Megamind likes what she's foraged for him and hoping it isn't too selfish to hope he's in a state to actually enjoy anything. The bathroom is dark when she gets into her room, so she pokes her head in, then crosses the floor to knock on the other door.

Hopefully he's out of the bath by now.

There's a rustling sound, and then…

"You're back!"

"I am! And," she holds up the bag, "I brought dinner!"

"Oh thank evil," he groans, standing aside to let her in, "I slept and now I am so hungry. What did you find?"

"I have brought you," she says, pulling things out of the bag and setting them on the little table by the window, "squash blossoms with goat cheese fried in honey, and half a chicken in some kind of peach sauce, with a peach and quinoa summer salad and tomato and cucumber. Aaand…butterscotch pears!"

"Oh wow," he says, looking at the table with round eyes. "Oh. Wow. This smells amazing."

"Here, let me pull one of those little chairs in off the patio," she says. "Assuming you don't mind if I keep you company? One of those pears is mine, by the way. And can I try one of the squash blossoms? I am super curious about those."

"Yes, of course, here, share," he says, gesturing at them as he sits down. He's moving much more smoothly than he was earlier, that's…probably a good sign? Is that a good sign? He sounds almost eerily normal now, considering how agitated he still was when she saw him last. "Eat one of the bigger ones! I seem to have half an entire small chicken to make disappear."

She laughs.

The squash blossom is interesting. It's a different texture than Roxanne was expecting, lighter and less rubbery than it looks. The goat cheese and honey are excellent compliments.

Megamind is tiny, but it's been hours since their snacks in the airship and his ridiculous metabolism is running on empty. He inhales the flowers and about half of the summer salad while Roxanne chats to him about the city outside, and then tears into his chicken like there's no tomorrow.

"You would not believe this one lady I saw walking by," Roxanne tells him. "Gorgeous boots, flashy purse, not a hair out of place. But she was wearing a coat that looked like she skinned a muppet." Megamind snorts and looks up, and Roxanne grins and continues, "Several muppets, actually. It was yellow and pink and orange fuzz—fuzz! not even fur!—shaved down between the stripes. Horizontal stripes, wide ones."

"What," he says, through a mouthful of chicken and peach and grain, "that's terrible."

"It was pretty breathtaking," she laughs. "I am so sad I couldn't run out and ask her for a picture. I mean, we are talking highlighter yellow and pink and orange, here. It looked like it was probably super expensive, I'm thinking it was some kind of art piece. Or one of those limited-edition high-end designer things. You know, one of those 'oh, well, it may look like I'm wearing half the cast of Sesame Street, but it is in fact Prada and it cost fifteen thousand dollars and my firstborn child' things."

"Was it soft fuzz or skuzz-fuzz?"

"I think soft? It moved like it was soft; I couldn't actually tell. It might have been awful."

"I bet Minion could make a better one."

"It'd be hard to make anything worse!"

Megamind eats for a while, and Roxanne picks at her butterscotch pear.

Eventually he says, "Your hair looks nice like that."

"Hm?"

"Your hair. It's different. Fluffy. I like it."

"Oh!" She laughs a little and glances upward. "Yeah, it poofs up if I don't style it. It's good you don't mind it; I'm probably going to be wearing it like this for a bit."

"It looks nice."

She smiles and makes a pleased sound in her throat. It does look pretty good like this, even if it isn't her preferred style.

"Also," Megamind says, "I cannot believe you found me a room with an enormous bathtub and a view of the mountains, and a handy escape route."

Roxanne feels herself light up a little. "You noticed that! I was wondering if that would help you feel more comfortable. Putting you in a strange city and then asking you to stay in a room where the only way out if you were cornered would be through a window…really didn't seem like a great plan?"

"I would cope," he shrugs. "But…it is nice that I don't have to. The door is a relief."

"I couldn't manage it in Nevada, I'm afraid."

"I'll survive. But this is good, here."

The curtains and blinds are drawn now. He must have pulled everything shut after his bath, when it got dark, Roxanne thinks. But the lamp on the side table is bright, and Megamind's eyes flash and catch the light, and Roxanne has half a warm pear she's really too full to eat, and…

Her friend has slowed down significantly since he started eating, and he seems to be just about finished tearing the last of the meat off the chicken thigh he's been holding. His side salad of fruit and cucumber is nearly gone.

"You feeling any better?" she asks.

Megamind's cat's eyes flick to her. He swallows.

"I am…better than I was, for now, yes," he says, lowering the bones. "And, I meant to say. Thank you. For putting up with me, today. For…handling me." He takes a breath. "That could have gone much worse. If you hadn't been there…" He trails off.

"I don't know what I would have done," he finally says. "I couldn't…see. Everything was just…"

Roxanne bites her lip.

"Pain," Megamind says, looking down at his hands. Curling them together, wrapping his fingers around his wrist. "Everything was just pain."

She looks at him.

"The drainage tube from your shunt didn't go into your body, did it," she says, very quietly.

Megamind doesn't move.

"No," he says, after a moment. "No, it went into a collection bag."

Roxanne swallows hard. "And…why?"

He shakes his head. Takes a deep breath. Looks up at her.

"If I answer that," he says, "you will never look at me the same way again."

She bites her lip. The silence stretches between them. 

And then, to her surprise, Megamind says, "Will it help to talk about it?"

That makes her blink. She was assuming, based on his tone, that he meant he would not answer why. "Um…maybe? It can be hard to say. But that is kind of the logic behind, you know, therapy? So…maybe?"

"Hm. Then I might as well, regardless," he says. "In that case. If it will help. It'll be easier now than it will later, so…"

What?

She waves a hand at him. "Wait, hang on. Easier now? I mean, you do seem pretty okay, but I would have thought, after a day like today, it'd be harder."

Megamind grimaces a little. Roxanne blinks again, and—does her best to focus—

"Wait, are you okay?"

He sighs. "I'm fine."

"Megamind."

"I am," he says, more firmly. "I'm…meditating. Sort of. I am in a…hm, it's…Minion and I call it the undertow, it's complicated, it's fine. Better to explain everything now, this way, and get it over with." His lip curls a little. "I would rather you not be party to ANY of it, but…alas. Rat's out of the bag now and you might as well know the extent of the mess you're dealing with, so…"

Roxanne swallows. Shakes her head. "No," she says, "no no. Wait. Stop."

"You said maybe it'll help—"

"Not like this, no it won't." She is very certain of this. "It's not just the talking that helps, it's…it's the response to the talking? It's reliving it just a little bit, when you're ready, with someone you trust. So they can support you. If you're in some kind of…of freaky-calm trance state? If that's the only way you're able to talk about it? It's not going to work. It—it might actually be worse, if you do it like this."

He wrinkles his face a little. "The logic behind therapy is to actually feel bad things?"

"In a safe way, where you'll be supported through it, yes."

He wrinkles his face a lot. "Ugh," he says, "no. I will not be doing that."

"Yeah, well, if you do it like this you'll just hurt yourself all over again. So, no," she finishes, "absolutely do not tell me right now. And—and excuse you, I am NOT dealing with you," she adds, scowling. "I'm not dealing with a mess, I'm helping my friend, get it right. …What's up?"

Megamind is frowning into the distance as though he's just thought of something. "Oh," he says, almost to himself. "Huh."

Roxanne cocks her head.

He glances at her. "Ah…without going into details, then," voice very wry, "one of the worst things that happened…it never…hit me as badly. It didn't linger the same way as the rest of it. But my uncles were there through the aftermath of that; they…helped me. Held me, after." He shakes his head, brows netted. "It…and the way people react to it is so much worse than the rest. But, out of all the shit that happened…I don't know. I can still sleep on my back. It's my side I have trouble with. Maybe because they were there? After? For…for that, specifically?"

"It's possible," Roxanne says. "Yeah."

He's quiet for a while, during which Roxanne tries very very hard not to think about what might cause Megamind to potentially have trouble sleeping on his back after being held in some horrible bunker somewhere, and mostly fails.

She has to be wrong, though. What the fuck possible reason could anyone have for doing anything as awful as the gap her brain is so helpfully filling in. She HAS to be wrong.

"Huh," Megamind finally says, again.

He's sitting so still. It's awful; he's usually so animated. But now his hands are limp in his lap and his gaze is distant.

"Can I help?" Roxanne asks, after a long minute slowly ticks by.

"Hm?"

"How can I help?" She reaches across the table. "Can I…get you grounded? Or something?"

"Oh, no, that would be very bad." He gives her an eerily easy-looking smile as he rests his hand on hers and pats a couple times. "I'll come out of it later. I can't do it with you here. It would be worse. If we were still on the road and it was truly necessary, that would be one thing, but…as it is…"

Slowly, Roxanne forces her head in an up-down direction. "Okay," she says. "Then, may I ask one question, so I don't have to ask it tomorrow?"

He nods.

"Earlier today, why did you seem confused when I told you all of that is illegal now?"

"Because you seemed to be implying what happened to me has been illegal since the mid-eighties," he says. "But they came for Minion in nineteen ninety-four."

Roxanne recoils in genuine shock.

"In the spring," he says. "They took Minion away while I was at sh—school."

"From Evil Lair? They broke in and everything?"

He nods.

She stares at him. "That shouldn't be possible."

He shrugs. "And yet. Here we are. I had always known they intended to get me back someday," with another hard little smile, "but I was so looking forward to graduating high school and getting my naturalization sorted out." His lip curls. "Of course they sabotaged it. They sabotaged everything I worked for. Everything I endured in that hell-hole to ensure our safety." His voice goes hard. "When we got him home it did sound like things there had changed, but…they took him, illegal or not. They took him, because they could not take me, and I…became this." He twirls a wrist at himself.

"…This?"

"A villain," he says, teeth flashing. "What else could I possibly be? An alien? I was that already." He pauses. "You look horrified."

Roxanne swallows hard. "When," she says, "you do eventually come out of this…undertow state, what's going to happen? To you?"

He looks away.

"Megamind, please."

"No." He shakes his head. "That is for me to worry about—"

"Time out."

He snaps his mouth shut and sits up straight, brows netting. "Okay?"

"You don't have to tell me," she tells him. "But please understand—not knowing what's going to happen to you after I leave is going to make me worry so, so much more. And I would really like to sleep, tonight."

"…Ah," Megamind says, and lifts his chin.

Good. He understands, then.

"The undertow. What is going to happen to you."

He swallows and his lips are thin, but he says, "Everything from which I am cut off right now is going to hit."

"At once?"

He nods.

"Do you know what it is?"

Another nod. "I know what's happening," he says with a sort of one-shouldered shrug, still watching her closely. "Feelings are still happening; I'm not feeling them but I'm not emotionless. I am simply…" He twirls a slim wrist. "Disconnected. So. It builds up. "

Roxanne bites her lips together for a second, nodding. Nodding, and now very glad indeed that she stopped him from telling her whatever this was about. If the emotional aftermath of whatever sent her proud supervillain into such a panic today hit while he was alone, unsupported…she cannot imagine.

Finally she says, "How long can you stay like this?"

"Hoping I'll hold off until we're home?"

"No, I'm hoping you'll come out of it soon," she exclaims, sharp. Megamind draws back, blinking, brows going up, and Roxanne barks a mirthless laugh and blurts, "Oh, my god, if you spent a week like this and then tried to feel everything at once I think your head might actually explode! I don't want you to stay like this!"

He sighs. "I will come out of it tonight."

"Promise?"

"Yes. I usually can't spend more than a day or so like this anyway."

Slowly, Roxanne exhales.

It's…probably as good as she's going to get. At least he picked up what she was doing with time out—it's something she's seen him and Metro Man do a couple of times and it seems to be a kind of hero/villain safeword. A 'hey, I am not playing, STOP,' signal.

Everything hitting at once…from where she's sitting, not a whole lot has actually happened tonight, but Megamind has definitely been thinking about what happened to him, even if Roxanne did warn him away from talking about it while in this state. So…she does understand why he might not want her here when he comes out of it. Maybe she wouldn't have understood if she hadn't seen how he reacted to her earlier this afternoon, but Roxanne really can't envision tonight ending well if she's actually present when everything hits. She wants to help—dear god she wants to help so badly—but, honestly, giving Megamind the room to break down in private might be all she can do. Megamind has spent thirty-some years in relative social isolation; forcing him to process Roxanne trying to support him on top of everything else…no.

"I don't suppose you would call Minion," she begins, but the way Megamind's expression goes flat more than answers that question.

So. She is going to go back to her room and jot down what little more she knows, and try to come up with some kind of…plan to deal with this, because they came for Minion in 1994 is throwing her for one hell of a serious loop.

But first.

"Okay," she says. "Well…listen to me, then, okay?"

Megamind shrugs. Gives her a thin little smile, a nod.

"You have still done nothing wrong today," Roxanne tells him, because it probably bears repeating. "And I still don't think any less of you. If you ever do want to talk about what happened, I'll be here for any of what you want to tell me, but I'm not upset with you for not wanting to, and I am still looking forward to the rest of this trip with you, and I would not be saying this if I didn't mean it."

Megamind isn't smiling anymore.

"And whenever you come out of this undertow thing…then whatever you need to do to handle today," Roxanne says, "whatever it is, as long as you are still breathing tomorrow…it is the right thing to do."

He swallows.

"So just…please, please at LEAST try not to call yourself names for it. Please? For me, if not for you. Please?"

"I will try," he says, quiet. And, "I think perhaps I've let you know me a bit too well."

She sends him a half smile. "You aren't the only friend I've had who's struggled with stuff like this. I've got you."

He doesn't move. His eyes have gone flat. "You said, earlier, you want to call people. Who?"

"Possibly someone who reached out to me a few years ago," she says, "and definitely Minion. Maybe also my dad or my uncle? If this is what I think it is then most of it's probably classified, but—when they took Minion," she says, "did they take him to the same place they took you?"

Megamind nods.

"And the place they took you," she continues. "Was it underneath the Library of Congress in Washington, DC?"

Megamind—

Physically startles, undertow or no undertow, and his eyes go so round and so wide Roxanne can see the whites all around his irises. Much more than she can usually see when he's surprised.

"Right," Roxanne says, "so tomorrow I'm calling Minion, and I'm calling a couple of my contacts. You can be present for the phone calls, if you want; I don't want you thinking I'm hiding anything."

"How," he whispers.

"I'm good at my job." She shrugs. Her stomach twists at the way he's looking at her. "Hey. It's still just me. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

There, that gets a dry laugh despite his shocked, wary expression. "Oh? My pawn, protecting her villain?"

"You'd do the same for me."

He doesn't argue. All he does is say, "Not tomorrow. For the phone calls. Not tomorrow."

Roxanne hesitates. "I…can you say when? …No. Okay. Well…when we get back home, then, maybe. I just, I know I'm not going to be able to really relax on this very much until then, so…"

"Soon," he says. "Soon. I promise. Just probably not tomorrow. Please."

"Of course. Nothing without your go-ahead." Pleases are not quite as rare from Megamind as sorrys, but it still throws her.

Then she rises. "I'll let you get to bed. I'll come over around seven-thirty? Tomorrow morning? And I'll just…make sure you're up, and then we can go down for breakfast. Okay?"

He nods.

Roxanne hesitates.

"Hug?" she finally asks.

"I don't need a hug."

She sends him a weak smile. "I think I might."

Wordless, Megamind stands, and sure enough, he does not hesitate before stepping forward and pulling her in.

Roxanne wraps her arms around him.

She never expected she would be standing with Megamind in a strange city, in adjoining hotel rooms, hugging him tightly and hoping he'll be okay. Knowing he's hurting, and still comforted by the strange living chill of his body heavy in her arms and the warmth of his massive cranium against her jaw. Sick with a kind of fearful worried anger she isn't sure how to articulate.

"If you want me," she says, "wake me up. I won't be mad. I mean it."

He nods.

"I'm serious."

"I know."

He withdraws and studies her for a moment.

Then he holds up a finger, signaling wait, and turns and goes to his bag.

"I don't—think—I'll want this," he says, digging in it. "But it can be difficult to say."

When he turns, he's holding his dehydration gun in its holster and belt.

(Roxanne had been wondering if he had that thing stowed away somewhere. She couldn't imagine he would ever leave Metro without it.)

"It has some unfortunate settings," he says. "You should keep it. Tonight. I don't, I don't think I'll want it, but…"

Roxanne nods. "I hear you. Yeah, I'll hold onto it. Thanks."

His face wrinkles up with amusement as she approaches. "I really do not understand why you're thanking me for this."

She can't help but laugh a little, despite the exhaustion suddenly dragging at her along with her muted fury. This wasn't quite what she had meant by whatever you need to do; she was imagining something more along the lines of having a crying meltdown. But, hey, whatever he needs. "I really don't understand why I wouldn't thank you," she says. "Seriously, you're letting me help. And it's not like you're even asking for very much!"

"Only for you to help me not do anything I'll regret."

"Right, but…you know you'd regret it," she says. "That's big. Again, like I said, you're not the first." She hesitates, then tells him, "When I was seventeen, my brother asked me to go through his apartment, put everything I could find that was sharp in a box, and take that box away with me and hold onto it. Scissors, razors, kitchen knives, craft knives, glass bottles…everything."

Megamind is staring at her. "That is a lot to put on a teenager."

"Eh. Maybe. But he wasn't asking me to stop him from hurting himself," she says. "He was just asking me to help make it harder for him." She takes his gun and belt. Gives him a smile. "So let me make it harder for you."

He nods.

"And, seriously, come wake me up. Okay?"

Another nod.

"Okay," she answers for him, more quietly.

Beat.

"If I hug you again before I go," Roxanne says, because she's playing it cool but she is not happy about the knowledge that he might be wanting to hurt himself later tonight, "are you going to yell at yourself about it?"

He snorts. "We can find out."

Roxanne readies herself for bed…slowly.

She knows no one reaches for villainy without something dark behind them. Super-class villainy, in particular, is a career typically reserved only for the most dedicated individuals. Dedicated to shirking mundane laws, and dedicated to playing within the bounds of the laws that apply to hero/villain metahumans and outworlders. Dedicated to revenge, in some cases. Chaos, in others. Personal entertainment, in Megamind's case, it has always seemed to those who aren't aware of his…extracurriculars.

He rules Metro City from below and he is not shy about enforcing his rule. Metro's crime is highly organized and smoothly operational; Metro's streets are safe at night in far more of the city than is normal for an area her size. Violence between her major gangs is restricted to certain areas tagged with roses and thorns on the walls. Drugs bought and sold within city limits are as close to pure as possible. Children walk to and from school unaccompanied. The libraries are fully funded. The trade unions are thriving. It isn't all Megamind's personal doing, of course; he only has so many hours in the day—but he puts a lot of effort into the systems that might threaten such things. He keeps them from becoming threats.

An apprenticeship.

Megamind was stolen away as a child and eventually sent home. Who knows why, or how. Like Wayne, he attended public school, but unlike Wayne, he never graduated. Under normal circumstances, that could potentially complicate his naturalization as a citizen of the United States as an adult—the United States' laws are bullshit in so many, so many respects—but Roxanne suspects an apprenticeship might also qualify.

Minion was taken before Megamind could graduate. Despite what Roxanne knows is the law.

Several years ago, Roxanne received a call out of the blue from someone hoping to be put in touch with Megamind, or hoping for Roxanne to put him in touch with her. Roxanne could not put her finger on it, but something about the call had not sat well with her. She had debated with herself for a couple days, and then finally called the Prison for the Criminally Gifted to ask the senior warden there if he had ever heard of anyone named Henrietta Tribeck.

"Do not let that woman near him," Jim had said. Flat, immediate. Angry. "She hounded us for years. Lose her number."

Startled, Roxanne asked what happened, and was told not to ask again.

"I wasn't privy to those conversations," Jim said. "But I had four inmates break out to bring that kid home when he called, and not a single one of them was ever the same after they got back. Blue asked after her for a while, but that woman's name was a curse in all their mouths when he wasn't around. Lose her god-damned number."

Roxanne had not lost Tribeck's number. But neither had she answered Tribeck's subsequent calls, nor did she ever mention any of this to Megamind. They had not had anything like a good rapport at the time, anyway. Eventually she had honestly forgotten. It's been years.

She isn't looking forward to calling this lady. Especially not with Megamind present for it; who knows what demons she'll elicit. Maybe Roxanne could make the call while he isn't around? No, no, she can't do that to him. She already told him she wouldn't do that.

Four inmates broke out to bring Megamind home when he called. His uncles helped him, he said. After…something.

Sitting up in bed with her blankets over her knees and her pen in her hand, Roxanne pauses, chewing her lip. She's jotting down her thoughts on the few additional details she's just learned, and ideas for people she might be able to shake down for answers whenever Megamind is ready to do so.

Most people react worse to whatever his uncles helped with than they do to everything else, he said. Does that mean his uncles were dismissive of the shunt? Accidentally, probably; Roxanne can't imagine they would deliberately brush Megamind's experiences off after an episode like the one she bore witness to today. But. A shunt is a medical device, and a fairly small one. She can see that being somewhat less viscerally horrifying than certain other possibilities.

…Well. Whatever happens next, if Megamind ever decides to talk to her about any of it…Roxanne won't make that mistake. He said, people react worse to the part that wasn't as bad. Whatever it was, she needs to try to follow his lead on it. The memory of him hissing get it out while desperately clawing to get the back of his head open is one she's going to have a hard time letting go of.

At this point she's just chewing on her lip and tapping her pen absently on the page. She tucks her notebook into her purse, then turns out the light and slides down under the covers.

It's a comfortable room, well-decorated and with high, wide windows. The bed is nice. Roxanne's clothes are folded for tomorrow, her phone is charging on the nightstand with its alarm set for seven-fifteen. Her little alien figurine is also on the nightstand, along with Megamind's gun in its holster and belt. Pale green light shines on the curves of mottled stone.

Sleep is a long time coming.

Chapter Text

Around two in the morning, Megamind jumps awake from a dream of fear, and for a moment he lies very still in bed with his heart pounding and his mind full of question marks. The light is wrong, the light is—

Ah.

Right.

Colorado.

He slowly sits up and takes stock.

Quiet room. Antique wood shining silvery in the moonlight. Bed. Chairs and table by the window. Food trash. No Minion—should he? do? something? with the trash?—at home he would leave it, but he is suddenly remembering now, this is not his home—didn't even think of it earlier—he shoves this train of thought into the background to continue quietly puttering.

His eyes still ache with crying, but that will fade by morning, he knows. The rest of him is, thankfully, pain-free and still fully connected to himself. No headache, shockingly. That's lucky.

Megamind releases a slow, shuddering breath, and blinks a few times.

Swallows.

Every inch of movement is uncomfortably real as he pushes his blanket away—he always feels more in his skin than usual after time in the undertow—but he gets to his feet to walk back towards equilibrium a little bit and use the bathroom. Hopefully doing so won't wake Roxanne.

He uses the toilet. Washes his hands. Makes himself drink weird-tasting unfamiliar water out of the tap so that hopefully his head will continue to Not Ache. Finally leans on his hands on the counter for a long moment, just breathing.

Well, he thinks. THAT was thoroughly unpleasant.

(Megamind asked Roxanne to turn out the light, when she left. He sat for a while in the darkened room, staring at nothing, until finally he shook himself and lifted the blinds to look out the window. The night here in the city is bright enough to drown out most of the stars; he could afford to risk it. The curtains parted, the blinds slid smoothly up on their cords, and Megamind looked up at the distant mountains rising above everything.

They were lovely. Mottled with forests and, higher up, snow. Edged in silver moonlight. He would not have seen anything like this on his homeworld; the land was shallow there. There were no mountains, Minion has told him, except under the water. They were all worn down long before the land was drowned. And then the land was drowned.

Megamind has experienced a lot of things on Earth that he would not have experienced on his homeworld.

He's built for life on land, but modified for swimming. He's built for life at a slightly, very slightly different concentration of oxygen and nitrogen, but grew up adjusting for Earth's atmosphere. He's built for infinitely more socialization than he's received since moving out of the prison.

The prison, at least, was an unexpected boon. His people raised their children communally; a two-parent household would never have been enough for Megamind. He would have grown up even more neurotic and anxious than he already is.

…God.

It was years since he got hit with an episode like today's. That hole in the ground grabbed him by the throat and ankles and twisted him. He heard Roxanne say 'Atlas missile' and 'military project' almost exactly as he arrived at the same conclusion, and one or the other he could have maybe handled, but both at once—both at once, the words and the knowing—his brain immediately followed up with here here right here is why they wanted your mind, and that had been the end of Megamind for a solid couple of minutes. He was too small, underfed, sick with pain and dizzy, half-blind with the bubbling drain behind his eyes. He could hear himself talking, and he could hear and sort of see Roxanne, hazy, helping him, holding him…

And then it was his mentor's voice, snarling at him, dragging him out of it and onto his feet and shaking him back into his skin. Breathe. Who do you think you are. Stop crying. Are you weak or are you a villain? At least pretend to have the bare minimum of pride—tchh, why do I bother with you—

Until he saw Roxanne recoil from him with an expression on her face he never ever wanted to see from her, and he realized what he had said to her, and—the ashen taste of that, the shivering regret—

It was enough to get him out of his head. Megamind does not enjoy being shouted at, but it probably honestly was necessary. And. This doesn't count, it doesn't really, because the things Roxanne was saying…he wants to believe them.

You have done nothing wrong today. I promise.

And then tonight. He knows he upset her so badly with all this, but then she said she was honored to hear it—

If it were up to him, he would have stayed in the undertow until he broke down entirely. But. He owed it to Roxanne to rip the bandaid off and deal with himself sooner rather than later.

So he closed his eyes in the dark of his room and listened to his heartbeat. Felt the spin of the earth, the air on his skin, in his lungs, in his nose—

—he surfaced.

And grief like a thunderstorm swept into him, as he had known it would. Decades-old indignant rage like lightning struck and rocked him back in his chair, along with everything else he felt but couldn't feel in the undertow. His eyes when he opened them again showed him a world melting with rain, and the air in his lungs caught between his teeth.

Shuddering, Megamind got to his feet, and reeled away to bed, and wrapped himself around the pillows there, and cried until his stomach hurt.)

…But dinner was nice, he remembers now as he goes back into his room. The room Roxanne found for him, trimmed with soft lace and patterned fabric and wallpaper and wood, far from the concrete and metal of his home. He looks up at the sky and the mountains rising over this side of the city and he thinks again, oh, those are pretty. See how bright is the snow at night. It's only October. Maybe we'll get up into the snow today, flying? That could be interesting.

He pauses before he climbs back into bed. Glances over his shoulder.

Hmmm.

The copper tub finally looks inviting. He could use a bath, after today. And Roxanne was so kind to find it for him; he hates to waste it.

Megamind turns away from his bed and begins to unbutton his pajamas.

The tub fills surprisingly quickly. Megamind doesn't bother with any lights, just checks outside to make sure everything is quiet and empty in the back garden. Which it is. All the outdoor lights are darkened now, except for the little golden ones along the flagstone walking path, which he suspects are solar-powered. That's fine; he's sure if anyone did come up the path, he would see them long before they would see him.

He set his bath much hotter tonight than he usually would. Megamind's core body temperature is significantly lower than a human's; as such, he's more sensitive to heat and less to cold. But…

Sitting with Roxanne, teaching her to fly two days ago…

She was so warm. She was so warm and it felt so good to sit with her like that. She is a furnace, and every time she's touched him, every time she's hugged him, Megamind has felt as though he is filling up with light and heat.

He suspects, not for the first time, that possibly living alone as he does is maybe not the absolute best possible thing for his health, if even simply brushing against her arm lights his whole body up with pleasepleasepleaseyes. Not even in a sex way, usually. Just…it's nice.

Yesterday, he asked to be held. For the first time in years. And she held him.

Not only that—Megamind had no words to ask, no memory to play back to ask for it. The last time he asked to be held was before he could speak. Lifting his arms. Minion does not ask to be held, their uncles do not ask to be held. Haunt Sebestyén sort of occasionally holds, but does not need to ask, and Megamind has never asked Haunt Seb either before crawling in to sleep back-to-back with em, squished between eir body and the wall. So: Megamind had no words to ask.

But Roxanne saw what he wanted. She saw, and she gave him the words, and then she fulfilled them. Best friend of his life, for one thing, obviously; unknowing queen of his heart. But also…

Then it must have been normal. Otherwise, she could not have guessed what to offer so easily. And then tonight she asked him for the same thing, so it must have been normal to ask for that, to want that, so…Megamind was so deeply trapped in the depths of his mortified panic that he could not build words of his own, and the thing he most wanted in that moment was a normal thing to want?

That has never been his impression before.

He is certain, he is certain the amount of touching he wants is not normal. He has never seen humans wrap themselves around each other the way Megamind aches to wrap himself. He also cannot remember ever seeing an adult on his homeworld do that, either. From what he remembers, they touched more than humans do, but…they did not seem to hunger for it. Not the way Megamind is hungry for it.

The water plishes gently as he steps gingerly into the bath. Frissons of warmWarm ripple up his skin from the heat, and Megamind gasps and swallows as he sinks—into the heat—the surface tension rolls up his legs, over his hips, up the hard planes of his stomach and chest, and the rolling swells of his ribs and his sealed-tight gill slits between them—his shoulders, his arms—

Megamind sinks into the bath up to his chin, and tips his head to rest on the folded towel on the back of the tub.

Oh. This is nice. He's glad he did this.

The only way it could be nicer, really, would be if it was Roxanne soft behind him instead of the hard copper tub. But. He is warmwarmwarmwarm and if he holds his arms across his own chest, if he looks at the mountains and leans his head back, he can pretend. He has a good imagination.

It's nice.

She was so good to him this evening. Finding him dinner, keeping him company, chatting with him. Spending time. She could have gone back to her room to rest but she honestly seemed to be enjoying his company; Megamind knows Roxanne and he knows she would not stay with him out of pity. And she reacted so well to his request that she hold his gun for him! He might really have worried about asking her for that, had he been fully capable of worry at the time. The last time Minion found out Megamind was hurting himself again, he had been horrified. He had made such a to-do about it, had blamed himself. He had been so upset. Megamind had, of course, known that what he was doing was not a good thing to be doing…but it really had not felt like half as big of a deal as Minion seemed to think it was.

He hid it from Minion, after that.

But Roxanne took the possibility in stride. She had not burst into tears and refused to let him out of her sight. Had not tried to make him promise anything that might make him feel worse when he broke it. She simply said, okay. I will help make it harder for you to do that.

He loves her so much.

And…

She…loves him? Too? He's pretty sure, at this point?

It isn't the same, it isn't quite what Megamind feels for her, exactly, but Megamind does not know how to describe what Roxanne is doing with him as anything but love, and he doesn't need it to be the same as his own. He doesn't need that. It would be nice if it was the same, of course; that would be beyond any joy he can imagine, but—it isn't necessary. This is already so beautiful. This already warms him so well. This is amazing.

She is so insistent that he is her friend. So insistent that she wants to do this trip with him, she is excited for it, enjoying it. Even tonight. Even after today. She said, she told him—I am still looking forward to tomorrow with you. Megamind cannot understand how she can possibly mean it, but he knows she does. She either means it or she is lying to him, and Roxanne would never be so cruel.

Megamind doesn't realize he's purring until he notices the water rippling against the skin of his neck despite how motionless he sits. He realizes, and stops, blinking in surprise at himself. His purr fades.

He only purrs involuntarily when he is both happy and fully relaxed. The second one is not something he ever would have expected after a day like today. Usually it's at least a couple days before he's fully off the ledge, so to speak.

Or…well, not fully. He is not fully off the ledge. He can still feel the ugliness lurking in his gut like a rattlesnake waiting to strike. But. For now, just for now, rested and wept out, apparently he can breathe well enough even to purr. Which is unusual.

But then, usually, he's alone. Shunning even Minion, picking up his own broken pieces. Usually he doesn't have someone he loves insisting it's okay to break and asking to hold him through it and helping him pick himself up after.

He smiles to himself, bittersweetness running through him. Roxanne had also insisted Megamind wake her if he wants her, and…

He cannot do that.

Megamind doesn't need Roxanne to love him the same way he loves her; to have her asleep only one room over is enough. But wanting is another matter. What he wants to do is slide into her bed and wake her with his mouth on her lips and his hands on her body. What he's going to do is…not that. Absolutely never ever that. Because what Megamind wants, actually, is not to do it, but to obtain a response to doing it that he will never receive.

What he wants is for Roxanne to sigh under him as he kisses her, and for her to put her arms around him and kiss him, too. Or to laugh at his waking her and roll them both over. And that…

…Megamind tries hard not to think about how badly he is beginning to want that.

He doesn't need her to love him in any other way than she already does. This is enough. He's okay. His bath is warm and his view is beautiful and new and his escape from this strange building is covered if he needs it and Roxanne is asleep in the next room. His mood is going to turn later—god, he can feel it beginning to turn already—but for now, in this brief moment, he's still okay.

It's just that he is so, so scared, at the same time.

Setting out on this trip a couple days ago, he had actually dared to wonder if it might turn out well. He was getting on so well with Roxanne that he had honestly wondered if this was something he could do, if hanging out with Roxanne and going and mingling with strange humans was something he could maybe actually pull off. Everything else, everything else in his life has taught him otherwise. Living alone may not be doing him any favors, but neither is what tends to happen to him when he spends too much time among humans, which is best described as intense sensory overload if he doesn't get enough caffeine, plus the joys of constantly being scorned and rejected and mocked for…he isn't even sure what, anymore. Being who he is? What he is? Behaving the way that seems most reasonable to him?

Megamind does his best not to think about his early days in villainy. He was still so viciously angry in the earliest days of it, and so upset when whatever he was doing received correction from his mentor. Machiavillain was accomplished, a real professional; he had trained in the Ouroboros and even sat on their board for several years before declaring his scorn for humanity. And he was right, was the really grating thing—Megamind could do better, he could push himself so much farther and raise himself so much higher than he was doing. He could do so much better.

And he DID do so much better! He would never have gotten to where he is today without Machiavillain's expert guidance.

He had been convinced, upon destroying the older villain, that doing so had spelled the end of his own career in villainy…but it was surprisingly easy for him to rise in Machiavillain's wake. And a surprising relief, as well, which he also tries not to think about.

There are…a lot of things Megamind is trying not to think about. He'll add that to the list.

The first battle he finished on his own went shockingly well. And for once, there was no one to tell him otherwise! He had gone home to Evil Lair with a split lip and the fire of rebellion in him, grinning ear to ear despite the blood on his chin, and Minion congratulated him, and Megamind took a shower and went to bed pleased with himself. And woke up pleased with himself—if also horrendously guilty, but again, he very deliberately ignored that part.

He has moved on from it, now. He is here, and Machiavillain isn't. It doesn't matter what his former mentor would think or what he would say.

…It's just that what he would say is so different from what Roxanne said.

Megamind hugs his arms tighter across his chest.

The humans on this trip…they stare at him, but it's curiosity he sees in their faces, not scorn. The woman at that little GREETINGS EARTHLINGS shop yesterday—Beth—stared, but she also talked to him. She did not snap at anything he said. Didn't recoil from him. She thanked him and Roxanne for stopping by when they left, and laughed uproariously at his choice of tee shirt, and that was all. The teenager yesterday who surprised him so badly in the hall apologized for doing so, and Tanner at the restaurant treated him almost entirely normally after the initial brief shock of seeing him.

Is it just his reputation in Metro? Coloring things? People would stare anyway, obviously, but Megamind is used to being stared at. This is all so much less harrowing than he was expecting it to be. If he could live like this in Metro City…

A sharp feeling lances through his chest, and it takes him a moment to recognize it as something like homesickness. Not for Evil Lair, but for a life that isn't his.

Megamind sighs, and scowls, and sinks lower in the bath.

It's been a while since he's felt that one.

Roxanne is kind to him, and the strangers Megamind has interacted with so far on this journey have not been unkind. It's not what he expected.

He hasn't thought about this in years, about why he had simply assumed everything—everyone—would be worse, but…

Machiavillain had always scorned humans. He scorned them, spurned all contact, curled his lip and derided them behind closed doors as cruel, grasping animals, hungry for money and power and fame. He knew how badly they had hurt Megamind; he was furious about it. He threw everything he could behind Megamind when the latter came to him screaming that Minion was taken. Megamind was too scared at the time to feel any of his own rage—that came later—but Machiavillain was livid.

"Build your nanites," he snapped. "Activate them. Sextuple their numbers—use my materials, as much as you need. This cannot be permitted. We cannot stand for this. What are your colors? Do you have a motif—anything from home, perhaps?"

Megamind, shaking, had blurted something about the lightning on his onesie as a baby, and Machiavillain arrived in Evil Lair's fabrication labs the following morning with Megamind's first set of leathers in blue and black, a mantle of wet-formed leather with a rising collar to support and protect his neck, and his people's lightning distorted and inverted on his chest. It was perfect.

The A-12 nanites in development had earned his praise. "Menacing! Good! Now, I have been able to track the vehicle your Minion is in—he is in no immediate danger, and we know where they're going. Have you slept? My boy, you need your rest! I'll finish up here; go to bed. No, go to bed; a tired villain is a dead villain. Where are your weapons stores?"

Reeling, Megamind had pointed him to the meager arsenal he had managed to accumulate at the time, and Machiavillain had sighed. "First rule: a villain is only as good as his weapons. No, now don't worry, I'll teach you. I'm here now; you'll be all right. Go to bed. I'll wake you for dinner, and we'll talk logistics."

He had coached Megamind on his approach, his lines, how to present himself. Had done the initial licensing paperwork to prevent his new pupil from being arrested under mundane laws. Had, ultimately, physically gone to Washington personally to retrieve Minion, because while Megamind had successfully intimidated the right people into giving Minion up, he did not dare go anywhere near that place himself.

It was perhaps the one instance of weakness Machiavillain never pushed him on. Going to Washington, at least, he understood was a non-starter. And Megamind had worked hard to make it up to him later.

Machiavillain even, and Megamind still isn't sure how, pulled a number of strings and got Megamind's citizenship back on track despite not graduating high school. Something about trade school, his apprenticeship. It was still all very quiet, but the papers were in order. All Megamind needed to do was defeat Machiavillain himself, someday, and in the meantime, the older villain would teach him to crush the mindless drones of Metro in his leather fist.

And…

It was fun. But. It is…probable, Megamind is willing to reluctantly admit now, that it was also heavily biased and not entirely fair to humanity. Machiavillain was cunning and cruel, a master of manipulation. He was not helping Megamind out of altruism; he made no secret of that. He needed a focus, someone to teach, a muse to inspire and fuel him. If he could bring Megamind to feel the same way about humans that he did…well, that would simply have been insurance, wouldn't it? Just good sense.

And it's not like it was hard to do. Megamind is pretty sure he's never felt the same bone-deep derision for humanity as his mentor, but it wasn't hard to get him to swear off associating with them outside the prison except as necessary for villainy. A little harder to get him to swear off associating with humans inside the prison—Megamind had tried, because "a villain does not go half-way." But it had felt awful; these men were his family! In the end, he simply lied. He told Machiavillain he was ignoring them, and basked in the praise that always followed, and he dealt with his guilt the same way he dealt with everything else in those days: by throwing himself into his work.

In the bath, Megamind scowls harder. He does not WANT to be thinking of Machiavillain. He wants to be thinking of ROXANNE. Roxanne, who has no idea how extremely goddamned embarrassing this whole ordeal was. They are entire time zones away from the place Megamind visited as a child! That crumbling opening into the earth looked nothing like anywhere his former captors held him. Stupid, pathetic nonsense—

You have done nothing wrong today.

But—no, but dissolving on her the way he did cannot possibly have been—

Do you trust me? Then believe ME!

Megamind exhales and exhaustion sweeps over him without warning. Everything is so much. But Roxanne would not lie to him, and she said she is still looking forward to the rest of this trip. Megamind can believe her. He can. For now. Besides, she even let him say he was sorry! She didn't snap at him, didn't tell him don't say you're sorry, just don't do it again; she didn't say sorry doesn't cut it; she didn't say sorry didn't say it, you did; she didn't say if you were really sorry you wouldn't have said it; she didn't say you are smart enough to know better so you must have meant it or tell him to knock it off with the crocodile tears…she said none of that. She just said it was okay. Like some of his uncles, sometimes, and like in books he's read, the ones he likes. She said she understood and it was okay, even though it wasn't, couldn't possibly be.

He sighs, and rises, and dries off. His heart is in his throat and his vision is blurred again. He wants to think of Roxanne, but all he can think of is today. He felt okay earlier, happy even, but now all he can think is that this surely must be the beginning of the end for their brittle friendship. They'll get back to Metro and Roxanne will start locking her balcony door or getting snippy and unfriendly when Megamind comes over. Of course she will. She is being so kind to him but he is exhausting. Even Minion needs space from him. Megamind's golden things never stay; he tarnishes everything. Midas in reverse.

Ugh. He's going back to sleep. He'll feel better in the morning.

Chapter Text

Roxanne wakes in the morning to find the shower running. Surprised, she shrugs to herself and dresses—leggings, sweater, jewelry, shoes. She scrunches her hair a bit until it fluffs up, and then she sits back down on her bed and yawns and tries to think about what to say to Megamind when she sees him. Good morning seems like not enough, but how was the rest of your night feels too direct. How did you sleep, same issue. She's personally feeling a lot better and she would prefer to try and start the day off lighthearted, if she can. Would it be out of line to try and be a little bit cheerful?

She exhales.

It's morning. It's morning, and she slept well when she finally fell asleep, and as far as she knows, she and Megamind are still having a good trip despite all of the back half of yesterday. Roxanne doesn't need to dig into everything right now immediately today; she can make her plans, figure out what order to do things in, quietly ask questions…and keep having fun. Roxanne does not want to treat Megamind any differently knowing what she knows now; he seemed upset about the possibility that she might. She likes how things have been so far and Megamind seems to also be happy with the state of things. Roxanne does not want to accidentally punish him for panicking in front of her.

So. Deep breath. It's likely Megamind will be a bit fragile for a while, but it'll still be a nice day, if Roxanne has any say in the matter. As nice a day as possible.

The shower shuts off.

As she packs her things away again and zips up her suitcase, it occurs to her that with pretty much any other friend, she would probably go downstairs and get coffee and text them to join her whenever. But she would rather not do that, this time. For one thing, she's still worried; for another, she told Megamind she would check on him and then they would both go down for breakfast together. So—

There's a tap on her door from the bathroom, and then it opens just a little. "Roxanne? Are you awake?"

"Yep, I'm up," she says.

"Good. Give me seven minutes and then come over," and the door closes again.

…Okay. That was a little brusque, but he did sound more or less normal, so…

She glances at her nightstand, and grins.

When Megamind turns to say good morning to Roxanne as she comes into his room a few minutes later, he spluttersnorts into startled laughter.

"Yeah I think your belt is, um, WAY too small for me," Roxanne says. She's managed to get it fastened around her waist, barely. The holster with Megamind's gun in it is bouncing on her hip every time she moves, its leg straps flopping. "I was going to be all, 'hey, I really like this, can I keep it,' but honestly? You can have it back. Can you have it back?"

Megamind nods. "I can have it back," he confirms, lips twitching. "My thanks for babysitting."

"Fabulous." She thumbs the belt buckle out of its fastener and relaxes her stomach as it pops free. "Hooo! WOW you're small. Here."

Shaking his head, but still hiding a smile, he accepts the tangle of leather and sidearm and stows it in his bag.

"We, um. We still have a few minutes before we said we'd be down for breakfast," Roxanne says. Faltering a little, just a little, because—the line of his shoulder, the tilt of his jaw, the wry twist of his mouth; it has just occurred to her that her friend is a supervillain and she has just given him his gun back, because he gave it to her to protect him from himself, what the fuck. And she had not even thought of it, what the fuck. "Do you want to talk about plans? For the day?"

Megamind blinks and turns back to her, brows netting. "Was our plan not simply to fly?"

"I mean, it was." She leans against the wall. "But I'm not sure how you're feeling. If you're not up to putting our magic shoes back on, I'd much rather rearrange our reservation in Nevada and spend the day here in Denver than push you on that."

He stares at her for a few seconds.

"We…could stay here," he finally says.

It sounds as though this possibility honestly had not occurred to him, so Roxanne nods. "Depending on the B&B's reservations, we might not be able to stay here-here," she says. "But, yeah, I'm sure I could find us another place in town if this place needs us to check out. Thoughts?"

He stands for a moment, then sucks his lip between his teeth. "I am…okay to leave," he says. "But I do not want to fly. Can you…?"

"Oh sure," she says. "Yeah, get some coffee in me and I'll be good to go. I'm feeling pretty awake today, so…yeah. You still okay for breakfast?"

He nods.

Breakfast is good. Nothing too outlandish—a frittata with vegetables and mushrooms (Megamind picks the latter out of his and silently gives them to Roxanne, who thanks him), some fruit, some bacon. Slices of lemon cake with some kind of sweet drizzle on them, which Megamind zeroes in on with such immediate intensity that Roxanne gives him half of hers just to see him light up with pleased if tired-looking surprise. She teases him for having such a sweet tooth, and he wrinkles his nose at her and sticks out his tongue, but he's laughing.

He's still a lot quieter than he usually is, though. His movements are smaller, his hands are jumpier. Partly it's being around strangers, Roxanne is pretty sure, but she's also pretty sure he's still shaking off yesterday's nightmares. Roxanne's brother often has what he calls an 'emotional hangover' after that sort of thing, and a friend of hers from childhood who was prone to similar episodes always said there were 'cobwebs' after—clinging wisps of bad mood, any one of which could catch and tangle her up all over again. Megamind seems much brighter-tempered this morning, but Roxanne is keeping an eye on him and she can tell there's a difference.

That's okay. She takes advantage of his silences to quietly reel over not just the fact that Megamind gave her his weapon for safekeeping (he must really think highly of her, good lord), but also the fact that she didn't think anything of it until he was packing it away again. She even went to sleep looking at the soft light of it on her little alien statuette. Hey, self? What the heck? When did THAT become normal?

The young woman who runs the place overnight and in the early mornings, Lorrie, is chipper and chatty. Roxanne and Megamind are two of four guests down for breakfast when they arrive, and Lorrie is deep in conversation with the couple who came down first—offering recommendations for things to do, it sounds like, from overheard snatches of conversation. And when those two stand up and stretch and depart for the day, Lorrie clears their plates away into the kitchen, and…

"Morning! Mama said you were kinda feeling under the weather yesterday," Lorrie says, plopping herself down in an empty chair near their table and fanning herself with her ballcap, grinning at Megamind. He's mostly already finished with his food. "You gonna be in town for today? Have to get right on the road?"

"We'll be getting on the road soon," Roxanne says. "But I'm open to suggestions, if…"

"What direction you headed?"

"West. And then south."

"Mmm so that's gonna take you up Seventy," Lorrie says. "How's the speed on that spaceship parked up across the street? Assuming that's yours."

"Very fast," Megamind says.

"And what are your thoughts on wacky rock formations?"

Roxanne looks at Megamind. Megamind looks at Roxanne.

After a moment, he gives a little shrug and says, "I'm not opposed."

Lorrie nods. "Okay, so, what you could do is head south to Colorado Springs and hit up a park there called Garden of the Gods. It's got a lot of history, some nice walking trails. And then you could take Twenty-Five south to Pueblo and pick up Fifty, take Fifty up into the mountains, and pick up Seventy in Grand Junction."

Roxanne laughs a little as she types the name of the park into her phone. "Anything special about Grand Junction?"

Lorrie thinks for a moment. "More cool rocks?"

"Any water?"

"Got the Colorado River, I think. Might be a little cold, though, this time of year."

Megamind cocks his head. "Hm!"

"Also I may have an ulterior motive in recommending this," Lorrie says, with a hopeful-looking grimace as she looks back and forth between the two of them.

"Oh wow," Roxanne says, blinking down at the pictures she's found. "That does look really cool. Here, look," and she passes it to Megamind.

He has to admit: he has never seen rocks like these before. Probably he never will again. And Roxanne seems to maybe want to go, and that's important, and there will be a river to see if they take this route, so—

"I am not opposed," he says again. "But define ulterior motive."

Lorrie grins. "So, there's a 7-11 just outside the park on the way out. My girlfriend works the counter there and she's a HUGE FAN, so…uh…"

Roxanne snorts.

Megamind recoils, blinking. "A…fan."

"You are Megamind, right?"

"I am." His mouth tugs into a small grin. "And I believe we are running low on soda."

"Oh my god can you PLEASE stop by," Lorrie says. "Please please please. Like, sorry, I don't mean to tell you how to spend your day, but also, one: I do think you'll have fun if you like big rocks, and two: you will TOTALLY help me win Best Girlfriend Ever."

"Helping is not my forte."

"Oh COME ON," Lorrie groans. "Okay well can you at least sign my hat? Can we take a selfie? Something! Anything!"

He's laughing now, sounding as though he's trying not to. "Helping is not my forte, but…I do not have many 'fans.' I am intrigued."

Roxanne is very busy with her breakfast. Very much not going to interrupt this interaction.

Lorrie blinks. "Wait, are you serious? Dude, you have your own hashtags on Twitter."

Megamind squints at her.

"MegaMecha? MegaMethods? You SO have fans," she says. "Sorry, do you not have, like…a PO Box? I thought for sure you had a PO Box."

"Minion retrieves boxes from the postal office periodically." He shrugs. "I rarely bother with the things he sets aside for me."

"What? Aw, dude, no!" Lorrie seems genuinely dismayed by this revelation, sitting up and staring back and forth between him and Roxanne as though Roxanne will be able to help. "You aren't throwing them away, though, right? You've still got them? That's fanmail! Probably! A lot of it! Wait, what does Minion open?"

"Anything with IRS on it."

That gets a laugh.

"She's right," Roxanne says, glancing up and grinning at him. "You have several fan clubs."

"Listen, you're like, one of the only villains out there who's also super active in local organized crime and his local politics," Lorrie says, probably in response to the extremely doubtful face Megamind is making. "Sex work in Metro is insanely safe and it's an open secret it's because of the rules you enforce. And the detox centers? Your little drone bots keeping the cops honest? Oh, man. You're basically a hero in the punk community, for real."

"I'm—I am not!"

"You don't have to like it." Lorrie shrugs. "I'm just saying, yeah, you have fans. Probably most of them are more local to you, but my girl likes you."

He's quiet for a moment. Roxanne catches Lorrie's eye and shakes her head just a little bit, and Lorrie stops looking like she's about to say something else.

Finally Megamind says, "I remain intrigued."

Roxanne glances at him, and says, "If you want…I could run out and grab our alien sunglasses for a selfie. Lorrie could wear my pair."

"Oh my god your pair of who-where the what-now?" says Lorrie, and you can probably guess what happens next.

"That was exceptionally strange," Megamind says as he buckles himself into the passenger seat of the Magic Shoes a little while later. "I don't think I enjoyed that."

"Selfies do kind of necessitate getting in close," Roxanne agrees. "You did good!"

"I did not," he huffs. "I was very bad."

"Agree to disagree. So," Roxanne says, "did you want to go to that park she mentioned? Probably only take a couple hours there. It's…still pretty early in the day, I don't know if we'd need sunscreen."

"Veto sunscreen," he says. "Absolutely not. Slimy, bad."

"Slimy can be good," Roxanne says, "slimy can mean sun protection! And there's aerosol kinds," she adds. "That might be better."

"Hhgnngh."

"Well, we'll see," Roxanne says.

They do get sunscreen. There's a convenience store before they arrive at the park, and Roxanne exits the airship with Megamind loudly complaining about her errand, and re-enters to the sound of him huffing just as loudly that he isn't going to wear any sunscreen, he doesn't want to, she can't make him.

"I mean, no, obviously I can't make you." She rolls her eyes. "But the sun is pretty high already and if you get burned, you're going to be completely miserable the whole time we're in Nevada. Plus—here, look. Spray some on the back of your arm and rub it in, see how it feels by the time we get there. This is my favorite kind; it dries and you hardly feel it."

Looking extremely doubtful, Megamind sticks out his arm for Roxanne to spray a stripe of sunscreen while he tugs off his fingerless glove with his teeth. Gingerly, he rubs in the sunscreen, and then makes a face and vigorously shakes out his hand. "Bleh."

"Here, hand sanitizer."

He accepts this with much better grace than he did the sunscreen. "You get me," he says, squishing the sanitizer around in his palm and fingers one-handed and then flapping to dry it before he puts his glove back on. "Oh! That is better."

"You said slimy bad, I assume you don't like residue either." She shrugs. "So, yes to the park?"

"If it wasn't yes to the park, I would have demanded to go directly to the Seven of Eleven and I would not be tolerating the prospect of this disgusting nonsense all over my giant blue head and neck and shoulders and hands also," he says. "Yes to the park."

The parking lot already has a clear view of some extreme rock formations. Reddish stone worn smooth against itself in curves and crevices by the weather, rising sharply out of the ground and the scrubby vegetation. The sun is high already, and the air is warm for October.

"That's incredible," Roxanne says, as she clambers out onto the wing of the ship and turns to seal the hatch behind her. It takes a couple tries; her gaze keeps sliding up to the wall of red stone, the other formations visible further down the hill. "I wonder how old those are?"

Megamind is waiting in the shadow of the airship for her to follow and peering up at the sheer face of rock rising out of the landscape, pockmarked with holes and studded with small plants. "They would have been pushed upright during the Laramide Orogeny."

Roxanne hops down onto the ground and dusts herself off, blinking at him. He sounded awfully sure of himself. "You know this how?"

"A book in the prison library. The geological history of the United States."

"What's an orogeny?"

As they head across the parking lot towards the primary trailhead, Megamind holds his hands together pointing at each other, flat, fingertips touching. "Tectonic plates," he says. Roxanne nods. "Orogenesis," he pushes his fingers together and crumples them so their joints bend up into 'mountains,' with the fingertips of one hand sliding under the tips of the other, then taps a thumb against his upward-bent fingers, "orogeny. The compressed plate," his upper fingers, "crumples into uplift."

"And this makes rock formations like these?" They've arrived at the trailhead, which extends down from a sort of wide overlook area with a restroom and water fountain.

"No, it makes mountains. But the process results in rock formations becoming visible, sometimes."

"Huh!" Roxanne nods and starts to turn towards the path down into the park, but—

A small voice pipes up. "Does it make earthquakes?"

Startled, she turns. The speaker is…maybe seven years old. Maybe.

"It did," Megamind says, pausing. "Yes. There would have been earthquakes and some volcanic activity in the young orogenic belt, in the early days. This would have been around seventy million years ago."

"So no more earthquakes now?"

"Probably not here, no."

"Or volcanoes?"

He shakes his head.

"Aw," says the kid, "I never get to see anything cool."

Roxanne clears her throat. "Megamind. Do you happen to know what dinosaurs might have been alive seventy million years ago?"

Megamind sends her a look of total bafflement, but the kid's face lights up. "There were dinosaurs here?"

Megamind's confusion vanishes. "Ah! Yes! This area would have seen hadrosaurs," he says, blinking rapidly the way he always does when remembering minutiae, "and—and ceratopsians. And tyrannosaurs. That was the late Cretaceous, so—I think—yes, you might have seen eutherian mammals at that time, as well. But maybe not here."

"Triceratops was here?" says another childish voice.

"Very probably," Megamind says, blinking as he turns. He glances at Roxanne, who lifts her eyebrows and smiles and nods. "Yes, Triceratops, and—"

"And stegosaurus!"

He pauses. "Steg—yes, although that was more during the Jurassic, so—not at the same time. But, but yes, regionally, yes. Stegosaurus and allosaurus, I believe, from the Jurassic. Much older than the Laramide Orogeny—that would have seen a different tectonic event, the—what? Oh, you have—some kind of hadrosaur toy. What—what is happening?"

"It's parasaurolophus," the kid with the toy announces. There are now four children clustered around, the latter three of which appear to be younger than the first. Their affiliated adults have also stopped.

"Kids like dinosaurs," Roxanne shrugs, grinning.

"What's an eutherian mammal," asks an adult who appears to belong to one of the younger children. "Were those the…the little rodents that survived the meteor?"

"They were early placental mammals," Megamind says. "Ancestors of rodents. And ancestors of you! But they were mostly seen in what is now modern China. There…may have been mammals in this region? I don't know, I'm—I'm not from here."

"I am from here, and I don't know any of this," Roxanne says. "Any sauropods?"

Standing in the sunlight in his black jeans and his Led Zepplin tour shirt with the neck cut out of it, his studded belt and his boots and his fingerless gloves all dripping with spikes and chains, Megamind sends her another Look. This one says why are you encouraging this, you horrible lady.

"Yes," he says, in spite of this. He's doing a great job of hiding how stiff he is. "The landforms that became North America saw a lot of sauropods. Um. Who—who here can—name a sauropod?"

"Brontosaurus!"

"Apatosaurus!"

"Good," he says. "Very good! Well done! And both of those would even have lived in this very region! Now, I—"

"Haplocanthosaurus," says the older child who first approached him, and Megamind pauses.

"—have not heard of that one," he says. "Tell me about haplocanthosaurus."

"It lived in the late Jurassic," she says. "It was like diplodocus and there were two kinds but we don't have complete fossils of either."

"In North America?"

She nods.

One of the adults speaks up. "We, ah, we saw some fossils back in Cleveland earlier this summer," in a tone of apology. "She's been fascinated."

"It had a replica skull," the kid says, scathing. "I don't know how it could have a replica skull if we don't have one to start with."

"You would be surprised what you can guess based on existing specimens," Megamind says. "But, aha ha, we should—Miss Ritchi? We—we should really—start walking? Now?"

Lips twitching, she nods. "We should," she agrees.

"Wait," says one of the adults. "So, these formations…you said, only seventy million years old for the red sandstone? But there's a sign down there saying three hundred and change."

"Yes, they probably are," Megamind agrees. "They almost certainly are."

Roxanne bumps him. "Monologue," she tells him in an undertone. "They're interested. How does a three hundred million year old rock get pushed up so recently?"

"Oh—? Oh. Ah—yes. The—the Laramide Orogeny was the last of the tectonic events that formed the Rocky Mountains," he says, inflection broadening, head coming up, shoulders squaring. "And that began seventy million years ago, more or less. But you have to remember, when talking about tectonic collision, it reveals an incredible amount of history! The granite up there," he sweeps a hand towards the tallest visible mountain—Roxanne can only guess how he knows what kind of stone is at its peak; Megamind is a walking encyclopedia in basically all subjects except sports trivia—and the small crowd turns to look, "for example! That granite was formed during an igneous event more than a billion years ago! It formed, it was exposed, it was covered—and then it was thrown sky-high very very slowly, and now we are here to see it. These," hand sweeping his whole body into a quarter-spin as he gestures at the massive, red sandstone formations of the park, "were probably dunes, once! And that, there—the white, jagged—that's possibly some kind of limestone, which functionally always means seabeds.

"Again, this all would have been before the Pacific and North American plates collided. So it all compressed and pulled together, the sediment and sand, and it was buried and compressed further…until it was all raised up vertically during the plate collision, the orogenies that built the mountains," showing with his hands, the same way he showed Roxanne, "and then—time, and wind, and weather—and now they're all that's left. Relics, very probably some of which are three hundred million years old. Standing against time."

"Huh." The adult is nodding. Eyebrows up, lips together. "Interesting stuff. Do you teach?"

Roxanne snorts and turns it into a hasty cough.

"I do not," Megamind says, flat. "No. Sh—school and I do not mix."

"Is it true the North Star is younger than sharks," says the oldest kid.

Megamind turns his head and stares at her. "What?"

"The North Star," she says again. "Did sharks evolve before it formed?"

"…No, the stars in the Polaris system all formed from the same cloud of interstellar gas two billion years ago," he says. "Earth is older. Sharks are not. Anyone else have questions?"

"Who's going to win the Kentucky Derby this year?"

"I don't know what that is," he says. "Is it a hat contest?"

"Well, I learned new things today," Roxanne says, desperately trying not to laugh. "Come on, sun's getting higher, we should keep moving. It's been fun, thanks everyone!" and she loops her arm through Megamind's and finally lets him scurry away.

It's an interesting walk. Lots to look at—more rock formations, which Roxanne hears a lot more about. Plants she's not familiar with, which she hears less about. Some birds. They get some good photos as well—Megamind in his casual goth regalia in full sunlight and an awkward smile with Roxanne on one side and what is obviously a sign in a national park on the other is going in a frame on Roxanne's wall. All in all, she's glad they stopped. The sun is high in the late morning, the air is warm.

Megamind slows as they approach the parking lot to leave. "Are they gone, do you think," he says, in the tone of someone very long-suffering. "Or am I about to be mobbed by small children again."

"I'm sure they're gone," Roxanne says. "They're either somewhere in the park, or they've gone home. We were walking around long enough. You did great back there, by the way. You know how to handle a crowd."

"Yes, ollo, professional supervillain. I did not get where I am by NOT handling crowds."

"I know, I know! Just…I've never seen you do it on such a personal level. With kids. You did great."

He makes a face. "I do not like children," he says. "I am happy to hear you thought that went well. At least one of those people is going to Google 'blue guy big head' and they are going to be in for a SHOCK."

"Well, they didn't do it while we were there," Roxanne says. "So, there's that, at least. You still up for swinging by the 7-11 and surprising that girl?"

Megamind throws his hands up in a jingling of chains. "Sure! Why not! Talk to more people. That will go SO WELL."

"We don't have to," she begins, but he waves at her.

"No, no, we do have to. I said I would. It's just that my brain is full of dinosaurs now, and geology, and my ears are full of my heartbeat, and I'm too hot."

Roxanne tsks sympathetically. "Let's get you out of the sun."

As they climb back up the wing, Megamind says, "I…thank you. Also. For not 'I-told-you-so'ing me about the sunscreen."

"Huh? Oh," she laughs a little. "Yeah, well. I figure it kind of spoke for itself out there. To 7-11!"

"To the Seven of Eleven," Megamind agrees.

Roxanne has already decided to let Megamind take the lead when they get there, but she can't help but hesitate a little bit about his approach. He shoves the door open, stalks directly to the refrigerators on the back wall, swipes three bottles of water out of their tracks, and then whips around to the counter, where a young woman with long red hair, snakebite piercings, and more freckles than Roxanne has ever seen on anyone is staring at him with absolutely enormous eyes.

"I'm buying these in a moment," he says, sounding exceptionally flat. "First I will drink one, I will bring the second outside with me, and then I will come back in and pay for all three."

"Uh…sure? Okay?"

Megamind is already cracking the cap. He tips his head back and pours the entire thing down his throat in one go without stopping to visibly swallow. Roxanne has never actually seen anyone do that, before.

"Be right back," Megamind says shortly as soon as the bottle is empty, and grabs the second one and sweeps himself away out the door, where—

—he upends the whole bottle over his head, dumping chilly water over his crown and down his neck and shoulders, turning the upper half of his shirt dark with water, scattering bright drops in the sunlight until the bottle is empty and he wings it easily into the recycling bin by the door without looking.

Then he wipes a hand down his face, flaps his shirt a bit so it isn't stuck to his skin, and comes back inside.

"Ha!" he says, dripping wet but looking infinitely less cranky. "I am now as fit for human interaction as I ever am. Ollo! Your girlfriend said you wanted to see me, here I am, do you want a 'selfye.'"

"Oh, my gosh," she says. "Hi?"

"Hi, yes. Do you know what a Kentucky Derby is?"

She blinks. "Uh. A horse race?"

He wrinkles his face. "That's nothing at all to do with hats," he complains.

In the back of the store, where Roxanne is getting herself a couple of Pepsis for the road, she loses the fight against her laughter and does her best to stifle it. She had completely forgotten to actually clarify what the Derby was, and Megamind hadn't asked. He was still mostly stuck on rocks and rattled from his impromptu geology lecture at that point. The whole little trek was honestly really endearing; Roxanne would never have guessed he had all that Earth history knowledge in him.

"I guess not," the girl says. "Hi, I'm…Caroline, um. Wow? Hi? Are—you okay?"

"We just spent nearly two hours walking around looking at rocks and I am very warm. But! Better now."

Caroline sort of recoils. "You…? But you can't sweat, right? Do you need more water? Ice?"

"I put water in me and poured water on me and I am standing under the ceiling vent," he says. "I am doing fine. We can't stay long, do you…?"

"Oh gosh I don't really do pictures," she says, with a panicky sort of grimace, "but…I mean, I could, I just…I'm…could I just, could I get one of you? Here?"

Megamind shrugs, nods. Puts his fists on his hips and poses, smiles.

When Caroline puts her phone back down, still beaming confusedly at it and at Megamind, Roxanne brings her sodas to the counter. "Just these for me, thanks."

"Oh holy wow, okay," Caroline says, blinking at her in instant recognition. "You're Roxanne Ritchi; what's going on?"

"Going to a wedding and I needed a bodyguard," Roxanne says with a smile. "It's complicated. Also, he needs to get out more."

"I do not! I 'get out' a perfectly adequate amount at home."

"He doesn't."

"I absolutely do too." He's glaring at a stand of plastic keychains, dripping water onto the floor. Spinning the display stand with a finger.

Caroline rings Roxanne up, stealing glances at her phone the whole time. Megamind glances over at her and frowns slightly.

"Is it the picture existing," he slowly asks, and Roxanne thinks he's probably wondering the same thing she is, which is—does Caroline want a picture? "Or is it looking at a camera?"

"Oh, uh…kinda both? More the second one."

"If I put my hand over your eyes," he says, "and Roxanne takes the picture, then she could move it…somewhere? Probably? If you'll let her. And then you would have it, but you wouldn't have to look at it. Until you wanted to."

She blinks. "That…maybe? Yeah? Yeah, I could…I could maybe do one like that."

"Do you want to?"

"Do you?"

He cocks his head and scowls, wrinkling his face. "Roxanne does this, too," he complains. "She doesn't recognize her wants until she knows the wants of everyone else around her. It does not make ANY sense. Do you want a picture or not?"

Caroline swallows. Nods, hesitant.

"Fabulous. I may drip on you, fair warning."

She laughs a little as she comes out from behind the counter and passes Roxanne her phone. "Sorry," she says. "Thanks."

Megamind blinks and sends Roxanne a brief, bewildered stare, mouths something about sorry??? but Roxanne is too busy reeling over his casual assessment of what she has always assumed was just…her attempts to be accommodating. She knows what she wants. Of course she knows what she wants; it's just…easier to decide what she wants if she knows what everyone else wants, too. Isn't it?

Caroline moves to stand in front of the checkout counter. She seems jumpy, looking all around the store and peering into the parking lot, but Megamind moves in beside her and—

Roxanne takes two pictures. Megamind stands with his arm behind Caroline's back, his slim hand up over her eyes. She's smiling but she visibly flinches at the phone's camera sound, and Roxanne—she has to take another, she has to, because Megamind's response is to put his other hand on the girl's shoulder and lean towards her.

Still sort of trying to work through doesn't recognize her wants until, Roxanne also has to stop and think…wow, Megamind truly has no idea how good he is with people, does he?

"Done," she announces. "One sec, let me make a folder for these, okay? I think I can do it without seeing anything else on here…"

"It's okay," Caroline says. "There's nothing weird."

"I'm impressed," Roxanne says with a smile, tapping around until she figures out where the unfamiliar device keeps its organizational whatnot, "I've got a lot of weird stuff in mine. …And there we go! I put them in a folder called 'zMeg' so it's at the bottom."

"Thanks." Caroline glances at a couple things, then nods. "Found it. This is…thanks." She looks at Megamind. "How did you…?"

Megamind shrugs. Grin-grimaces. "Cameras I can do," he says. "Mirrors…only some days."

Biting her lip, Caroline nods. "Right. That, um. That sucks."

Another shrug. "I make do. It's better than it used to be."

"I think mine's getting worse," she admits. "I don't…really even know why? I'm fine with how I look, but…"

Megamind starts to speak, but then Caroline sort of jumps, sort of laughs.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to bring the mood down, ha. Um. I'm sure you have to get on the road. Good luck," she says to Roxanne, "with…whatever kind of wedding it is that needs a bodyguard? And, and thanks," she says to Megamind, "for stopping in. And…everything. Means a lot."

"Of course! Anything for…a…fan?" The words are his usual grandstanding, but his face and his tone both pull uncertainly upwards at the end. "Also how did you know I don't sweat? That is NOT meant to be common knowledge."

Her expression goes unexpectedly gleeful. "Wait, really? You really can't? It's not common knowledge, it's just speculation. But it's one of the guesses I agree with!"

"Speculation among whom?"

"Other fans?"

"Other fans," he echoes. "Right, yes, definitely a thing I have known exist for more than the last three hours. Terrifying! Thank you! Please kindly go into the future secure in the knowledge that you were correct! and tell no one!" He thrusts a finger into the air, his other fist on his hip.

Then he drops his hand and frowns down at his toes. "Also please be aware of the puddle on the floor," he says. "Perhaps a mop. Or…something. I…apologize."

"Absolutely," she assures him. "Yes, for sure, don't worry about the water, this was super worth it."

He blinks. "Ah? Ah. Good! Yes! Thank you this has been fun lovely meeting you goodbye," and he turns on his heel and is out the door and halfway across the parking lot before Roxanne even knows what's happening.

"Sorry," she says, laughing a little as she gathers up Megamind's water and her own sodas. "He's probably a little socially overwhelmed."

"I believe it." Caroline's brow furrows. "You're bringing him to a wedding?"

"Villains," Roxanne says. "Hopefully it'll be a little more his speed than what we've been doing so far."

"Maybe." She glances out the door. "I dunno. He's awfully solitary. Super private, no social media presence at all. There's not a lot out there about him that isn't speculation."

"I'm aware." Roxanne sighs. "As far as I know, he didn't even have a smartphone until a few months ago. He…" She hesitates, a thought occurring. "Actually. Maybe you can help me. How much can you tell me about him and Machiavillain?"

Caroline's eyebrows go up. "Oh, wow. Um. Not a lot? Sorry. There've been rumors about him and Megamind being…involved? In some way? But…nothing definitive. And that was all back in the nineties."

"Involved," Roxanne echoes. "Like…romantically? Professionally?"

"I mean, some people say romantically. But some people always say that." Caroline wrinkles her nose a little. "I don't know a whole lot about Machiavillain, but from what I've read, he really didn't sound like the type to do romance. My money's on professionally, if at all. Megamind destroyed him; that's about the extent of anything I know for sure. Sorry."

Roxanne has to take a moment to process that one. Megamind destroyed Machiavillain? Himself? All he said before was that Machiavillan was 'gone.' From the way he spoke about his former mentor, it didn't seem like he was particularly bitter about the man.

What happened?

"That's okay," she says, blinking, trying to focus under the weight of the forty-odd new questions that just popped up to be added to her mental list. "I appreciate it."

"It was…really, really nice of you guys to stop in," Caroline says. "Thanks again. Stay safe."

Roxanne nods thanks and hurries away.

Chapter Text

When she slides down into the cockpit, Megamind is sitting with his head between his knees. "Don't ask if I'm okay," he warns, before Roxanne can say anything.

"Yep," she says. "One sec. You did great there, as well."

"Oh yes. I was eminently fantastic. The best. I DEFINITELY did not excuse myself in the weirdest way possible."

She smiles. "You were very sweet with her."

Megamind lets out a theatrical gagging noise and sits up to glare daggers at Roxanne, who is digging in her purse. "I was not sweet."

"You were nice, then." Roxanne's bag is fashionably enormous and therefore composed internally of a nightmare hellspace that eats whatever she puts into it, no matter what size. "Hang on," she says, "I brought something that I think might help for the next little while, if I can find it…how is it hiding? It's huge! Come on…"

Finally she drags it to the surface. "Aha!"

It's her old GameBoy Color from college, with a copy of Pokémon Blue in it that she picked up on eBay ages ago intending to replay the game. She hasn't ever gotten around to it. Megamind watches with a scowl of suspicion on his blue face as she gets it set up, but he does slowly accept the hunk of plastic she hands him.

"What on earth is this."

"Video games!" she exclaims. "Pokémon! It's not a DS, but I thought maybe it'd work as a good distraction for a while if you got bored. Or," she adds, "if you need to just retreat for a bit. You want to try?"

"Hmmm," he says, but he doesn't decline. He settles in with his thumbs on the controls and his eyes on the screen.

The Magic Shoes lifts off and flits away up into the Rockies with Roxanne at the helm. She smiles a little at the familiar tunes of the game, the cheerful little chirps and bleeps. Inwardly, though, she's once again shocked and trying to process.

She had of course already known that Megamind is incredibly private. She has always known that. But it's one thing to know it, and another to hear—from someone who probably knows more about him than most people—that there's next to no information publicly available on a subject Roxanne now knows quite a bit about, thanks to Megamind simply telling her.

His affiliation with Machiavillain is just rumor? Megamind did say the older villain insisted on secrecy at the time, but still? Even now? Roxanne knows how they met—knows how Machiavillain targeted his young pupil and courted him with flattery and well-timed concern—well, she suspects, at least; that might not be accurate but it sure is how it sounded—

And—Megamind destroyed him? That wasn't on Wikipedia, she's pretty sure. Maybe she just missed it?

Regardless. Roxanne had…forgotten, sort of, just how rare Megamind's trust is. How incredibly lucky she is to have won his trust at all, and Minion's, let alone as much as she apparently has considering how much he's told her. Not to mention, giving her his dehydration gun to hold onto last night.

It's possible Roxanne has already seen more of him on this trip, physically and emotionally, than anyone else alive aside from the men who raised him. She was beginning to take that for granted.

The memory of him on her couch a few weeks ago strikes suddenly, for some reason—stretched out prone, exhausted, his head by her leg. He let her touch him. He asked to stay.

She swallows hard. "When we get there," she says quietly, "or just sometime tonight, can we at least call Minion?"

"Mm."

"Thanks."

Megamind has shared so much with her already, and Roxanne still has so many questions. About his life, about the way he thinks. He's socially traumatized, that much is obvious, but underneath it he's so…soft? He might dress himself up in spikes and chains and armor and snarky, prickly attitude, but Roxanne has been catching more than just occasional glimpses of a truly sweet-natured goofball underneath it all. Both on this trip and over the past couple of months especially, in addition to what she's seen over the last few years. How on earth he became a professional supervillain is something she's wondered for ages, and yesterday she finally got some information that might point to an answer.

(The FIRST answer she received to "why did Megamind go into villainy" was well, he grew up in a prison, and that was the end of it. Roxanne could not be satisfied with that! That was not a reason! That was just a scathing indictment of prisons and the lack of resources available to outworlder immigrants and refugees in the seventies and eighties! Oooh, he grew up in a prison; Roxanne grew up bouncing back and forth between Michigan and California, but that didn't spark a career in long-haul trucking!)

It's funny, she thinks, how her worries about whether Megamind is having fun on this trip are slowly morphing into worries about whether he is having fun at all. That destiny thing has been rattling around in the back of her head since he mentioned it yesterday. His destiny is villainy? What parent would ever choose that for their child?

Standing in the sun earlier today with those kids, he was so unexpectedly good with talking to them, telling them about the history of the area. He was also good with Caroline, even though Roxanne knows he probably wasn't feeling up to much socializing at all by that point. She does feel a little bad about egging the kids on with the dinosaur thing.

Still, he seemed to have fun chatting with Roxanne afterwards about geology as they went through the park, and he lit up and started bouncing when she asked about his original plans for the seismographier plot from a couple years ago. So she's pretty sure he isn't actually upset with her.

An hour passes, and Roxanne says, "Do you want to stop and get out?"

"No," Megamind snaps, but then he shakes himself and drags a hand down his face. And then scrubs his palm hard against his jeans. "I…Yes. Good idea."

"I'll find somewhere."

After a minute or so, he mumbles, "It was a good idea."

Roxanne smiles a little. Mister Cranky. There are those cobwebs, sure enough. "I know."

Only a few more minutes up the road, they find the town of Gunnison. Eyeing her GPS, Roxanne takes them off the highway and follows signs to a road that turns to dirt, and follows that downhill until—aha. Good. A little turnaround on the side of a fast river with lots of rocks and whitewater downstream, and a boat ramp into a deeper, quieter area nearby. Even this late in the year, cars with roof racks are parked around the turnaround. A family in hoodies and swim trunks is hoisting a pair of kayaks down from the bed of a truck.

"Hey," she says. "You want to go rinse that sunscreen off?"

"Huh?" He looks up. Sees the river. His jaw drops.

"Do you have a change of clothes handy?" Roxanne asks.

"I will fucking get one," he says, fervent, scrambling out of his seat and out of the ship. "Oh my god oh my god yes—"

Ha. Nice job, Roxie; you did good.

She raises her voice. "You mind if I stay here?"

"No, that's fine!"

So Roxanne stays in the airship while Megamind gets out to splash around and do his stretching routine; she wants to review Machiavillain's Wikipedia page again. Sure enough, there's no actual confirmation of the cause of his 'disappearance.' She finds a section on his enemies, on possibilities and controversies. She finds mention of his rumored association with Megamind. The source on that tidbit is an article that supposes the two of them had some kind of alliance, or an agreement to remain hands-off when it came to each others' activities. Machiavillain as supervillain and Overlord, Megamind as a rising supervillain studiously keeping out of the older villain's way.

Roxanne swallows, chewing the inside of her lip.

She can't even say for sure why this is bothering her so much. Megamind can handle himself; there's no way it was as bad as it sounded. Is there? Even just pinpointing what exactly sounded so bad is kind of eluding her. It's just…

The more she reads about Machiavillain, the less at ease she feels. He built his name and his empire on careful manipulation, and he was talking to Megamind so young. Offering help. And that's fine, lord knows Megamind needed someone outside of the prison who cared whether he lived or died, but…that guy? Did it have to be THAT guy?

And why did it need to be secret? That's the part she keeps coming back to. Maybe that thought she had earlier about 'targeted' wasn't fair; she definitely doesn't have the whole story. But…

She finds a YouTube video, an old recording of Machiavillain turning heads with his guitar skills and his voice—wow, he had a fantastic voice, and a solid stage presence too—and then, then she finds a longer video of the same plot, a news clip that included Machiavillain's lead-up before he started singing, and her blood goes cold. A chill runs down her spine. Because, holy fuck, that's Megamind. The way he holds himself. The way he talks, on plot days. And that's where his villain's accent comes from. It's not his mimicry, Roxanne knows the difference, and there are certain style archetypes that a lot of villains and heroes adopt, certain patterns in the way they bear themselves and florid manners of speech. It's just…usually there are deeper variations. But the resemblance here is uncanny.

Megamind mentioned thinking about college, once. And then villainy, and…

Was there anything else? Ever?

(…would he admit it, if there was?)

She lowers her phone to her lap with a sigh and rubs her fingertips into the corners of her eyes.

Ugh. Okay. So, she'll talk to Minion, and she'll make one or two other calls at some point, and maybe that will give her enough answers that she can stop thinking about this.

Thankfully, Megamind does offer some small distraction when he clambers back into the little ship. "Stay where you are," he says, short, "I'm getting changed back here."

She tips her head against the back of her seat and shuts her eyes, grinning a little at the sound of water trickle-dripping onto the floor of the Magic Shoes. The sound of some article of clothing or other going splat. This is just her life, now: sitting in a custom-built airship on the side of the road by the side of a river with an alien supervillain stripping down behind her. The least Roxanne can do is reward his belief that she won't look.

Not that it isn't tempting. She's still kind of amused with herself at how taken aback she was at his build under his leathers. But they're armor! They've got padding! And so many of the street clothes he wears on his upper half are either loose or bulky. She wasn't expecting him to be so…lithe.

"Did you go all the way in?"

"And all the way under, yes," he replies, still rustling around behind her. "There were people. Staring. They—nnf—looked like they might say words at me. I didn't want to talk to people staring who looked like they might say words at me."

"And so you hid?"

"No! I did NOT hide! They saw me go. That isn't at all the same as hiding."

Roxanne stifles a snicker. "How was it?"

"Interesting! The river tastes different from the lake. Both lakes. And I didn't even have to move my spiracles; I just held onto a rock and—hff—opened them up and let the current run through me."

"That sounds nice!"

"Mm. It was very cold."

"Aw."

Finally he stumbles back into view and flops back down into his chair.

"Are you stressed," he asks as he straps back in.

Roxanne blinks over at him. "Am I…? What? Stressed?"

He waits.

"…No," she says, "not especially. Why?"

Yesterday, or the day prior, she's pretty sure he would have given her an actual answer. Today he just shakes his head and slouches down in his seat, picks up his game. Runs a finger down his beard so water drips out of it onto his shirt. It's damp again, and clinging to his skin—he's gotten changed, but maybe didn't grab a towel when he got his spare clothes out?—but he doesn't appear bothered.

He just nods, and says, "Good," and picks up his game.

It takes her a moment, but—oh, right. Their agreement. Roxanne opens her mouth to ask are you having fun, but—

No. That's probably not a good question to ask right now. Not with him so obviously trying to just block everything out again. The river seems to have helped, but he's still carrying a lot of frenetic energy.

Carefully, keeping herself in what she hopes is the same kind of peripheral vision a human has, Roxanne reaches out and rubs her hand over Megamind's bony shoulder. He doesn't look up, but he does exhale and sort of cant his head in her direction. She'll take that as a decent sign that he isn't upset, at least.

Oh. Another thought occurs.

It's possible he doesn't need it, but she can't remember seeing him drink any of the stuff Minion sent in those bottles labeled POISON yet today. They didn't bring any into the bed and breakfast with them after yesterday's fiasco, either. Whatever is in the bottles, is it possible he's running on empty and needs to re-fuel? Could that help? Well, she'll try it. Roxanne unstraps and twists around to rummage in the boxes in the small space behind them, and pulls out a container of Minion's poison, and slides it onto the seat next to Megamind's skinny, black denim-clad leg. He glances at it, nods slightly; Roxanne touches his shoulder again and then straps herself back in.

They've been in the air for a few minutes when he reaches out and awkwardly rests his hand on her arm for a moment. She smiles a little, and hums, and Megamind pats her and then sighs and withdraws and chugs his poison. And then silently returns to his game.

Roxanne flies on.

"Are you okay? I saw! I tried! I'm sorry! Are you okay?"

"Pret-pretty obviously not fuck-fucking okay, Duckling. Are YOU okay?"

It is summer. August. The neighborhood pavement is faded and cracked with age but shimmering hot under the sun. Hot under Roxanne's knees and her palms, skinned and scabbed from yesterday's acorn while she was running. But skinned knees and scuffed palms fade into all the other small injuries that come of being six years old in the summertime; Roxanne has other concerns as she kick-scrambles herself over to Drew at the side of the road with her shoelaces trailing behind her.

Drew gingerly touches his nose, shaggy hair falling all around his face and shoulders. His sun-brown hands are shaking badly; the blood on his knuckles is only partly his.

"Did I make it worse? I'm sorry!"

He forces a muffled laugh. "Huh? Naw. S'fine, you were great. But you bet-better hope Dad or Xi'lj didn't see you running with that big stick."

"Dumb ol' rotten twig. It broke anyway." She uncurls her fists from the pieces and wipes her own nose and mouth on the back of her hand, hovering, anxious. Kneeling in the sun by her twice-older brother, too distracted to keep crying now the way she was earlier.

She won't tell their parents about the swearing.

"Are they-are they gone."

Roxanne rises on her knees and looks around, listens. Nothing but insects and birds and the sound of the creek down the hill. The street is empty. It's midday and most of everyone's parents are at work, and the kids from the next street over ran off when it became clear that Drew wasn't going to stay down and his kid sister wasn't going to let go of either of the halves of her stick, or stop biting and kicking. Roxanne bites hard. And she screams like a tiny panther; any adult who is home was bound to look outside soon.

"They're gone." She scrubs her fist across her eyes, sniffles. "And we're almost at Mister Kessler's. D'you want…?"

Breathing hard and clutching his face, Drew nods and shoves himself up and stumbles off, Roxanne following, keeping watch for anyone who might be hiding and waiting for another go. They shoulder through the usual gap in the Lombardos' roses into Mr. Kessler's backyard and then follow the path down to the shady pond, where Drew staggers to the stone bench in the water and drops himself down onto it with a sound suspiciously close to a sob. He's shaking.

"You want me to get Mister Kessler?"

"No, I wan-I want Ryan Wilson to leave me the fuck-FUCK alone about my FUCKING hair."

Roxanne chews on her lip. "It's just your nose is still bleeding kinda a lot?"

"YEAH, THANKS, I hadn't noticed." He looks up, sees his sister's lip pinched and her eyes big and shining. "Sorry. Sorry, Annie. 'S just. Hurts. You okay?"

She gulps, nods. Sniffs again. "Can I help?"

"Uh. Just. If I fall over. Don't let my face go underwater, okay? Close your eyes."

He puts his hands on either side of his nose. Roxanne squeezes her eyes shut and balls her hands in her grass-stained shorts.

There is a wet crunch. There is also a scream, and then loud crying. But the crying does also sound relieved.

"I did it I did it I did it I did it oh god fuck jesus ow, ow," he's hyperventilating and now Roxanne is also crying, but Drew's nose is mostly back in the shape that it was, which is still not either of the shapes it was previously, and he's pulling his shirt off over his head and pushing his nose into it and breathing too hard and too fast. "Ducky, here, here, I'm okay, we're okay," he grabs for her and she seizes his hand in both of hers.

"Let-let's count, can we count, can we count? One—"

It is all she can think of to do. This happens sometimes, the fast breathing and the wild eyes, but usually when it happens they're indoors and usually there isn't so much blood. Counting sometimes helps, or slow-together breathing with a hand on his chest if their mother is there. It depends. Roxanne's hands are too small, not as much of a steadying comfort as their mother's.

But she can count, and the counting helps. She counts, with the tie of one pigtail halfway down her back and the other fully gone, tears in her eyes and snot on her lip and water in her tennis shoes and the rushes all around, the buzz of summer in the shade of the trees by the pond. Drew joins her on seven, muffled by his shirt. They get to fifty-five before he trails off and finally exhales. Roxanne stopped crying at eleven, started breathing better around thirty. The counting helped her, too, as it always does. She knows to count when she cries alone and wants not to.

Drew lowers his shirt. The bleeding has stopped.

"—bluh," he says. And then, with a wobbly, hopeful grin, "There! That, that wasn't so bad, see? Oh, hey, let me see your face." He swallows, wiping his eyes on the heels of his hands and then reaching for her. Blinking hard. Still shaky, but no longer shaking, and his breathing is much closer to normal. "C'mere. No, c'mere. Chin up. Did they hit you?"

"Not much. My tooth came out, see." She opens her mouth. There's red between her little teeth, but that tooth was already loose.

He scowls at her and kicks a foot at the water, splashes. "Well what'd you go and do it for, anyway?" A frog croaks an alarm and jumps away farther down, and Roxanne glares and sticks out her jaw. Drew bumps a gentle fist into her shoulder, exasperated. "Riding in like that? You coulda broken your neck if you went over your handlebars! You shoulda gotten Dad."

"Dad's busy with Xi'lj's big phone call, the one so it can stay! I knocked on Mrs. Mendez Vega's door but she wasn't home. And I had my stick! And I got Jimmy pretty good with my big rock 'fore Ryan grabbed me."

He sighs. Sniffles. Winces, then bends and starts to rinse out his shirt in the pond. "Did you bite him real hard like I told you?" He splashes water on his face, gasps.

"Yep."

"Swallow any blood?"

She shakes her head.

"Go rinse your mouth up by the crick anyway."

As she splashes away towards the creek that feeds the pond, she says, " And I jackknifed like you said and then he dropped me and then I got him with my stick and then I bit him again."

There is a sound like a stifled laugh, then a groan. "Yeah, well. You shoulda run. You shouldn't be getting in fights. Your baby nose is too cute for you to go getting it broken." Roxanne glares at him from where she's crouching down swishing clear-alive creek water between her teeth. She's not a baby, but her mouth is full and anyway Drew is still talking. He sounds very congested. "You go get Mom next time, okay? Or Dad. Whoever's home. I don't care if they're busy. Don't you come fighting, you could've really been hurt."

She spits, wipes her mouth on her wrist again. "How come you're always fighting?"

Drew sighs and gets to his feet. "I dunno. I dunno. I just wanna be left alone." He shakes his head and looks down at her as she comes splashing back. "Here, lemme fix your hair so Mom maybe won't fuss as much. You want a french braid? And then we'll go look for your tooth, huh? You sure you're okay?"

A patient silence, now. Cicadas in the trees, and grasshoppers in the sunny field beyond, and Drew's bruised fingers in Roxanne's hair and her wet sneakers kicking back and forth where she's sitting on the stone bench in the water.

"Do you s'pose they've got tooth fairies where Xi'lj is from?"

"Ducky, I don't think they've got teeth where Xi'lj is from."

The street is quiet in the afternoon sun, the grass of the neighborhood lawns clipped and green, dotted with dandelions. Two bikes lie waiting on the sidewalk, both red: one bigger and the other smaller and dusty, with shining new training wheels. Its lopsided wire basket rests in the grass of the berm. Its fastenings are broken; the basket itself is now additionally dented and scuffed from where the bicycle's screaming rider ripped it free and raked it down over someone's face and shoulder earlier that day.

A small girl's voice rings out, clear and excited—"I should give Xi'lj my tooth!"—followed by the bark of an older boy laughing, and then swearing, and then laughing some more.

Later, lost in her thoughts, Roxanne actually jumps when Megamind bursts out with a noise like an angry swan.

She glances over at him, reaching for the now-lukewarm soda she picked up at 7-11 earlier. "Something wrong?" She takes a drink.

"I am getting Zubat tattooed on my ass," he snarls, and Roxanne promptly hiccups and snorts Pepsi out her nose. "Why are there so many Zubats. I am going to scream. Every cave! Every cave! Zubat! Nothing but beedley-deedly—look! Look! Zubat! Yet again! …What's wrong with your face?"

"Hlargh," says Roxanne, throwing the little craft into hover mode above the road. Her Pepsi was no longer cold, but it was unfortunately still very fizzy. "Blaarghghlgh, oh godd, id—stiggs—blllghrgggffhffgl—"

"What is wrong with your face?"

"I juzt blew Pebsi oud by dode," she sniffles, coughing and rubbing her nose and her cheeks under her eyes with both hands, "need a tizzzhu. Thags."

Megamind is staring at her in what looks like open fascination, still holding the tissue box out to her as she blows her nose, her eyes streaming. "You what? You did what? How?"

"Are your siduses not connecded to your throat?"

"No, they are, but—I have a sort of—nasal epiglottis that prevents this from happening."

"Well aren'd you luggy."

His lips are twitching. "If I laugh," he says, voice wobbling, "are you going to be upset with me?"

"No," she sighs, "I'm sure I look very fudny. Aw, jeez, it's all down by front…"

Megamind is huffing with startled-sounding laughter. "I—I did not know this could happen," he exclaims. "How did I not know this could happen?"

Roxanne sniffles again. "Built different?" she says, and he snorts into a bark-laugh and then cackles.

"Built—oh that is bad."

She blows her nose, then takes a proper gulp of Pepsi to try and reset her system. "Ughhh. Oh, my god. Ow." She sniffs, clears her throat a couple times, and then finally starts reluctantly laughing, herself. "You know, I've never actually done that with soda before? I always wondered how it would feel."

"Verdict?"

"Zero out of ten; I do not recommend it."

Grinning, he asks, "Anything worse?"

Roxanne thinks for a moment. "It…might be tied with the orange juice when I was fourteen, I think."

"Ew."

"And it was the kind with pulp. I was sneezing orange bits for days."

"Ew," he laughs, "that's horrendous!"

Blinking then, she turns and peers at him. "Wait, why don't you have any tattoos? I'm kind of surprised you're so clean."

He grimaces. "Ah, I've tried. I fully metabolize tattoo ink in a couple years and I haven't bothered to develop a variant my cells won't eat."

"Huh." She sits for a moment, nodding.

Then she says, "Well. If you ever do come up with something, let me know and I'll get a Zubat on my butt, too; I had the same complaint the first time I played."

Megamind cocks an eyebrow. "Ah," he says, "yes, and then we'll have matching Zubutts. Worth it for the pun alone, really," as he watches Roxanne dissolve into startled giggles.

"Ow—fuck it hurts to laugh—aaahgllghglhgh—zubutts—god, I am five years old."

"I'll see what I can do, ink-wise," he says after a moment. Grinning down at the GameBoy in spite of himself. "I was joking, but…"

"No, no, we have to," she exclaims. "It'll be hilarious. Like the sunglasses."

"Tattoos are a little more extreme than sunglasses!"

"Yeah but it's a butt tattoo, it's meant to be silly." She blinks, then grins at him. "And I have to do silly things! You said!"

"Ohhh I did say," he groans, rolling his eyes, but he can't seem to stop smiling. "Back me right into a corner, how dare you."

"Mlehhh," she says, sticking her tongue out. And then as they pass a sign for an upcoming rest area, "Oh—up ahead. Stop and get out again?"

He hisses a sigh between his teeth. "Yes. How many more miles?"

"Only around two hundred."

He doesn't reply, just nods.

"And then we have two whole days of no flying, and we can leave whenever on Thursday. We," she hesitates, "we can even, if you want, stay through Thursday and leave on Friday. Get back to Metro on Sunday. Or—or Monday! I, um. I actually did take Monday off, already," she admits. "Just in case."

Megamind's lips thin. "We don't need to do that."

"I'm just saying, if—"

"We don't need to do that," and there's an edge in his voice now. "I'll be fine. We'll leave Thursday."

She hesitates, then nods. "Sounds good."

Megamind twitches. Opens—and closes his mouth. A muscle pulses in his jaw, and when Roxanne lands the airship in Grand Junction, he's out the exit hatch in record time.

Roxanne sighs. Emotional hangovers, she thinks, to reassure the anxious twist of her stomach. Poor guy.

It's funny. A few years ago she probably would have been super upset if someone she was friends with started snapping at her like this. As it is, she can feel her old worry gnawing, but…he's not snapping at her. He's just raw, and tired, and far from home. He's just snapping.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. I'm not doing anything wrong.

Besides, it's just Megamind. He's safe.

And she wasn't actually expecting him to be okay today. Those two unexpected interactions earlier didn't help. So…she'll just…give him some space, try to keep things lighthearted. Back off if he tells her to. And…probably wait until he's feeling a little better before she apologizes for pushing him to talk to those kids, instead of helping him out of that situation.

Yeah.

Megamind throws himself into his stretches with his heart in his throat and his breath catching in his lungs.

What is wrong with you.

He tips over backwards. Kicks his legs over his head.

What the fuck is wrong with you.

Everything was fine. He was fully unwound and rinsed off, Roxanne remembered his nectar and it helped slow and calm his mind, and then just now they were joking about the most ridiculous possible thing and everything was fine and then she was nice to him and it felt like a kick in the gut and he was an asshole back and he yelled at her and he can't—he—can't be like this. What is wrong with him.

He just needs to do better. He needs to be better. That's all. He's just, he's just tired. All he needs to do is make it another couple hundred miles and he'll be fine. Roxanne will be able to get some distance from him then. There will be hiking trails for her, and maybe old friends, and Megamind can hide in his hotel room until whatever this nonsense mood that's taken him passes.

…Can he hide? Will she need him with her before the wedding as well as during?

The thought turns his stomach. He wants to stay with her. He wants to stay with her always. But she is going to need space, he remembers now the way everyone always needs space from him, and it's safer for him to give it—the more space there is, the fewer available opportunities for Megamind to fuck up. He can't be glued to her side the whole time. She cannot possibly want that.

It is normal for her to not be near you, he tells himself. You are here as her bodyguard; it is not personal for her to step away. But. It's an uphill battle to believe that when his mind is gnawing holes in him and his friend is angry with him and he's miles and miles from anything familiar and he doesn't know what the rest of his day looks like and he's tired.

Stretching in the grass, in the shade of the tree Roxanne parked them under, Megamind hisses at himself. He could just ask. What the plan is, when they get there. But she's upset with him now, and he doesn't want to risk upsetting her further. So that's a nonstarter.

Whatever. It's fine. He'll find out eventually and this whole thing was a stupid idea anyway.

He drops back into the cockpit and drags the hatch closed after him, then throws himself into his chair and straps in. Picks up the game he was playing. Around him, the Magic Shoes hums back to life, and Roxanne pulls them into the air and back onto the road in silence.

Megamind plays his game with his heart in his mouth, furious with himself and aching with pain because Roxanne is mad at him and it's a grim reminder that someday she won't want to be near him anymore, won't want to be friends anymore—

Until Roxanne suddenly says, "I'm not going to do it because I'm pretty sure your reflexes would land me with an accidentally-broken finger, but I just had the strangest urge to poke your ear and see what happens."

Baffled, he lifts his head. She's grinning at the road. After a moment, she glances over at him, her eyes sparkling.

"…What?"

"I don't know, I thought it might be funny!"

There is absolutely no ire in her tone that he can detect.

Is she not upset with him?

"Best not," he finally says.

"Aw." She leans back and peers at his screen. "How far along are you? Route 3?"

He nods.

"Nice."

She returns her attention to the road, and Megamind returns his attention to…trying not to scream. What is happening? What is happening? Everything is maybe fine? Except for Megamind himself, who is now deeply weirded out.

Please don't talk to me, but he can't say that. Who the fuck says that.

…WHAT IS HE THINKING, he is a supervillain, OF COURSE HE CAN SAY THAT. He is a supervillain and he does NOT care and it's! Fine!

"Please don't talk to me," he says, flat, and—

One: he is immediately horrified with himself, and angry with himself for BEING horrified, but also, two: in his peripheral vision, Roxanne looks over at him with her eyebrows raised…

And gives him a thumbs up and an acknowledging nod, and keeps flying.

What. is going. on.

Are you angry, he wants to say. Why aren't you mad? ARE you mad? When are you going to be mad?

He opens his mouth—

—closes it. He cannot ask that. He just told her not to talk to him. It's just—it's just, she still seems fine, and Megamind cannot fathom how that can possibly be the case but she seems fine and he's—his breathing is wrong and he can't focus on his game; his brain is on fire and he hates himself and he can't—he can't figure out what's—he doesn't WANT her to be mad at him but can't she just be mad already and get it over with—

In his peripheral vision, he sees Roxanne turn her head, and he immediately snaps around to stare at her, hardly breathing. He can't tell what his face is doing, and he can't tell how wide his eyes are, and he can't tell when he's going to have finally ruined everything, and—

Roxanne puts the craft back into hover mode and wiggles around in her seat for a moment. She moves her knees apart, and then she looks back over at Megamind and pats her thighs with both hands.

Megamind feels his eyebrows twitch down in confusion. She's—still not upset?

Her mouth lifts up at the corners. Her expression seems friendly and open. She pats her legs again and sort of jerks her head at her lap, then reaches—out—she turns towards him a little bit, blinking, wearing something that looks like concern—

Roxanne doesn't ask Megamind if he's okay. It's incredibly clear to her that he isn't; he honestly almost looks scared. And she's pretty certain that if she DOES ask, he'll just snap at her again and then go even further into his head about it, but she has to try something. It seems like whatever is going on with him is getting worse, and…well, he said no talking, but he also asked for a hug yesterday, right? So far out of his mind that he couldn't find words, and he wanted a hug? So, maybe this?

And it does seem to be a potentially correct thing to do, because Megamind is suddenly unbuckling and scrambling across the cockpit to sit in front of her again, the same way he did when he was teaching her to fly after they left Metro a couple days ago. He slots his narrow hips down between her legs and leans back against her, the length of his back pressing hard against her stomach and chest—oh, he's pushing, she realizes; oh he really must not be doing well—and he tips his head—backwards—over her shoulder to rest it against the back of her seat. Hands in his lap. Breathing hard and shaky, lips parted, eyes closed. Throat arched.

After a long couple of seconds, Roxanne lifts a hand and puts it flat on his heaving chest. Megamind slaps his palm down over hers and makes her jump but he doesn't tear her hand away, so Roxanne presses it there as she slowly breathes in, keeps it there as she slowly exhales.

He picks up what she's doing almost immediately; he grips her knee hard with his free hand and he's trying to match her the next time she inhales. Still shaky, but he's trying. Roxanne keeps going as she closes her eyes.

It honestly is not very long before Megamind is breathing with her. Probably only a minute or so, until finally he sort of—slumps, and stops pushing so hard on her, and his breathing evens out. After a moment, he shudders. Tips his face towards her just a little. Swallows hard, sort of panting.

"It's okay," Roxanne says, very very quietly. More just the consonants than the actual words.

And Megamind—nods a little, as he exhales. Drops his hand to his lap and relaxes his grip on her leg and sort of—pats her—a little. Nods again. Gulps. Breathes.

Roxanne pats his chest a couple times in return, then moves her hands back to the airship's controls. Megamind leaves himself where he is: one arm hugging his stomach, his other hand on Roxanne's knee, Roxanne's hair tickling gently over the ridge of his temple.

"Let's get to the hotel," she says, low, and Megamind nods.

He makes no move to leave, and Roxanne makes no move to move him. He sits, and breathes.

After a while, she says, very very quietly, "It's way easier to fly today. And yesterday."

He stirs.

"You don't have to talk. I'm just…surprised, is all. I got her all the way up the side of the parking garage yesterday, and back down, today. You barely had to tell me. But on Saturday I was still white-knuckling it all the way to the house. She's really—" intuitively designed, I guess, is what she was going to say, but Megamind interrupts with:

"You've slept."

Roxanne blinks. "Wait, that's it? Sleep?" Yes, that's the same thing she had thought yesterday, but it almost seems too simple. "I mean, I know sleep helps commit stuff to memory, but…driving?"

Megamind twitches a shrug.

"So, you don't have some kind of super-secret psychic bond that's helping me fly."

"With Minion. Not you."

"Huh."

"…You don't seem fazed."

"Wouldn't be the weirdest thing I've seen."

"What would be the weirdest thing? Aside from anything I've built."

She thinks for a moment. "Eight-foot-tall praying mantis. Bright orange. Purpley-green undertones."

She feels his head move on her shoulder, and then he picks it up. He sounds absolutely baffled as he says, "When did you meet one of the Whispering Thousand?"

"When I was a kid! I told you, my dad works with aliens! Sometimes they would stay with us." She pauses, then says, "You know how you said one time, you kept kidnapping me because I talked to Minion like he's a person? Right off the bat? Yeah, this is probably why. I don't need people to look human. I've met people who look VERY inhuman. Wait, when did you meet one?"

He lowers his head back onto her shoulder.

Ah.

Right.

"Would it matter if I did," he says, startling her. She thought for sure that was going to be the end of conversation for a while. "Have a super-secret psychic bond."

"Oooh, good question." She takes a deep breath, then lets it out. Turns this over in her mind for a minute. "Well, I wouldn't like it if I didn't have a say in it," she finally decides, "but I'm guessing you wouldn't have a say, either, in this scenario. So it is what it is."

"Ha. Miss Roxanne Ritchi, the Eternally Unflappable."

"But you don't have one anyway, so it doesn't matter. Right?"

He's quiet.

"Megamind?"

"No. I'm pretty sure."

"You're pretty sure."

"I'm pretty sure. You'll find out for sure when I die."

She scowls. Huffs. "Well then I guess I'll just never know, will I? Rude! No dying, you're not allowed."

Megamind snorts.

"Those are the rules! I don't make the rules."

"Oh, don't you?"

"Nope. Rule number one, No Dying."

"Fine, fine. I'll make a note."

"You better."

They've almost made it to the resort when Roxanne's phone rings.

She swears. Ordinarily she would ignore it and call whoever it was back, especially with Megamind like this. But this is one of her few contacts with a custom ringtone, and—

Megamind sat up as soon as she tensed; he's already digging in Roxanne's purse for her phone. Thankfully, he seems to be feeling better; his voice is steady again when he asks, "Speaker?"

"Yeah, thanks."

He hits answer, hits speaker, and crawls away back to his own seat, where he holds the phone up with his elbow on his knee and the microphone aimed at Roxanne. He looks exhausted.

"Hey Wayne," Roxanne says. "Everything okay?"

"Uh, yeah, except for where is Megamind? Minion says he's with you? Where are you guys?"

Megamind wrinkles his face at her in a silent question, and Roxanne rolls her eyes, shakes her head.

"Baby, I told you three times. I'm going to my friend's wedding and I'm bringing Megamind as my plus-one, because you would be a basket case the entire time and it's going to be a room full of villains."

"Isn't it in, like, Arizona? I'd have got you there faster."

"Yeah, but I like road trips. Also, he desperately needs to get out more."

Megamind scowls at her. His scowl deepens further when Wayne says, "I mean, yeah, but…wow, okay. So…vacation time? Villains get vacation time?"

"Villains take vacation time, Metro Mahn," Megamind drawls. "Hee-roes could if they wanted to, but instead they work themselves to death in pursuit of that elussive mistress known as perfection."

"Yeah, honestly, you should really take some days off," Roxanne says, jumping in before Wayne can retort with what's sure to be some truly half-assed banter. "Actually—why not take the rest of this week? Megamind is gone all the way through Sunday, Minion's holding down the fort…no supervillainous activity, no superheroic activity needed!"

"Ooo, yes, you could actually catch up on sleep, for once," Megamind says, dry. "Imagine that."

"Aw, I can't do that," is the immediate reply. "What if there's a fire? Or a bank robbery? What if the Go Fish Gang tries to tunnel under the aquarium again?"

"Metro has emergency services," Roxanne says. "Let them do their jobs."

"And the brainbots are more than capable of harassing the Go Fish Gang. I increased their aggression towards costumed interloopers before I left. And," Megamind adds, looking reluctant, "increased their tolerance for random citizens."

Roxanne shoots him an expression of pleased surprise; he pulls a face.

"Wait, really?" Wayne sounds extremely startled.

"They are running defense in my absence. As is Minion, like Roxanne said. Leave town."

"Where would I even go? It's not like I can get away from—"

"Idaho."

"—all the screaming anyway. What? Idaho?"

"There is a dark sky reserve in Idaho," Megamind says. "Fourteen hundred square miles of almost nothing. No light pollution and probably as close to no noise pollution as you're likely to ever find this side of the stratosphere. Get a book on no-trace camping, get some gear together, and leave town."

"Please take a break," Roxanne says into the startled silence that follows this information. "You're dead on your feet. I swear, I told you about this trip three separate times."

"…I'll think about it," Wayne says.

"You are going to start hurting people by accident," Megamind warns. "I saw what happened to that car three weeks ago."

"That was a fluke!"

"And the bodega on Fourth Street two months ago? And that crane at the Walnut Street construction site? You're lucky it wasn't in operation. Should I continue?"

"Really hate living with fifty thousand little video drones flying around," Wayne complains.

"Should I continue."

"No, fine, you've made your point." Wayne sighs. "I'll…go somewhere. Maybe. I dunno about camping."

"The beach, then. Somewhere with waves, for background noise." Megamind shrugs. "I'll hold off on my next plot until you get back; gentlemen's rules."

"Yeah, maybe."

Maybe means no, Roxanne knows. Frowning out at the road ahead as she follows the curve of the mountainside down, she opens her mouth to argue for a definitive yes—

"A hero puts the welfare of others above their own," Megamind says flatly. "That means—"

"I know that; why do you know that?"

"I don't think you DO know that, because if you DID, you would know that occasionally it means putting YOUR welfare first in the short term so you can put theirs first in the long term," Megamind snaps.

"Justice never rests—"

"You are getting careless. Justice without care isn't justice, it's punishment," Megamind fires back. "It serves no purpose, betters no one, teaches nothing."

"Wh—no, it still teaches a lesson, it—"

"That mistakes are met with pain? That to grow from your mistakes, you must suffer for them first? That is not justice! That is not Good!"

A stunned sort of silence follows this.

"Justice without care, without compassion, is not justice, and YOU have been struggling to continue showing compassion for well over a year," Megamind says. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

There's a long pause during which Roxanne feels oddly like she's stuck watching family members fight. Or a lovers' quarrel.

"A hero sees what's right and does it because he can," Wayne finally says, more quietly. "I can't just step away from my post. It's—I'm the only one who can do some of this stuff. I—"

"You aren't. And you haven't been doing what's right because you can," Megamind adds, "you've been doing it because you can't stand to live with the screaming if you don't. There is a difference."

"Well what in the name of the Frito Bandito himself else d'you want me to do about it, little buddy?" Wayne exclaims. "Just watch them die? Just let them die?"

"Yes! If that is what it takes to keep YOU in the air, then yes!"

Roxanne blinks.

"You are not actually Superman," Megamind says. "You aren't. You can't be. He's a solid role model but he isn't meant to be a how-to guide; he's not real. And even he had downtime."

"He had downtime because he's not real!"

"A hero cannot stand for a brighter tomorrow if he's too tired to see beyond today!" Megamind snarls. "You are EXHAUSTED! You are working yourself literally into the ground! I am your canary, you KNOW I'm your canary; now listen to me before you fall over dead: take a vacation or I will make you."

"That a threat?"

"Please, Wayne."

It's a tone Roxanne has never heard from Megamind before. He honestly sounded like he was begging. She's staring straight ahead, following the road, silent.

There is another long, tense pause—

"Okay," Wayne finally sighs, and Megamind breathes. "Okay, okay. You're the worst."

Megamind smirks and curls his lip despite the relief in his expression. "And don't you forget it."

A disgruntled sound from the hero, and then, "Well…you two have fun, I guess? Be safe?"

"Fun yes, safe no."

"We'll be fine, babe," Roxanne assures him, trying to keep her tone bright. "Text me when you leave for where you're going, okay? I want pictures!"

Megamind gives her a wide-eyed thumbs up with the hand that is not holding her phone.

Wayne groans loudly, but says, "Okay, fine, whatever."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Good. Have fun, send pictures!"

Megamind pokes the End Call button, and Roxanne immediately makes a face.

"GOD, he has GOT to get some help," she says.

"He seriously didn't remember my 'girlfriend' AND MY NEMESIS are going on vacation together? I knew it was bad; I didn't think it was THAT bad."

She's shaking her head, her lips thin. "What happened with the crane?"

Megamind scoffs from where he's tucking Roxanne's phone back into its pocket in her purse. "He blacked out flying. Lost his grip on Earth's subgrav field, crashed into the ground." He gestures up, then down with one hand. "Well, into the crane first, then the ground. Broad daylight."

"He BLACKED OUT?"

"He passed it off as something I was doing, some side effect of my magnets. I'm not complaining; it's great for my reputation, but…"

"You're kidding! That's—that's terrible!"

"I know! I can't fight a hero who's not fit to fight!"

Roxanne sends him a dirty look.

"I—mean—I know! It's—positively atrokious?" He throws a hand into the air and snaps, "Look, what do you want me to say? He's my arch-nemesis. I've got a vested interest in keeping him around but it doesn't mean I like him."

That wasn't what it sounded like to Roxanne, but she's not about to argue with him on it.

"Good lord," she says, simply. "I'd say it would be time to talk to a doctor, if there was a doctor who could actually treat him."

"There's the one he grew up seeing. He was retired, the last I heard, but he might be willing to talk to him."

Roxanne sighs. "Great. Well…worrying won't help in the meantime, so…"

"I'm not worried!"

"Not actually trying to convince you." She sighs again. Shaking her head, her mouth pinched small and unhappy.

Megamind is quiet for a moment.

Finally he begrudgingly admits, "I…am. Worried. Slightly. But if he goes out of town for a while…maybe it will force the city to put more money towards emergency and support services."

"What we need are more heroes. I don't know why he always insists he doesn't want help."

Megamind winces.

She is right, of course. Metro has needed additional superpowered help for years. But one of the downsides of the city's growth boom, her explosive economic rise to power, is that there is no historical precedent for more than one hero. Once again, the city hasn't budgeted for it. And Metro Man is independently wealthy and started hero work as a minor; it's been a volunteer position since he started and he's never quibbled on that. As a result, he's the sole superhero for two hundred fifty square miles of city sprawl. Granted, the city also has only one actual fully-fledged supervillain, which is similarly unusual, but there are some smaller-time local villains running around as well.

So. No budget. But also…

Megamind was baiting his nemesis once, years ago. No cameras, just the wrong-place-right-time interruption of Megamind laying the groundwork for a bigger scheme, and he had said something about Metro Man not having anything better to do with only two hands and too much pride to accept help—a recent meeting had discussed bringing in new blood, and Wayne had good-naturedly waved it off, insisting all was well and the money should go where it was needed. But that day, facing off against his rival privately, Wayne had snapped, "You think I don't know that? But any other hero would've broken you by now. It's just me here for a reason, little buddy. Maybe dial it back a little for, like, a month? My mom's real sick."

And Megamind had, quietly, dialed it back.

It goes both ways, of course. Megamind strikes a very careful balance playing in the wide stretch between comical incompetence and frightening strain, but Metro Man is aware he survives at Megamind's discretion. A couple of accidentally too-close calls made that abundantly clear several years ago. Megamind had a terrible time playing close to that line for a while, long enough for him to believably start slipping back again, but he had done it. Partially by actually coordinating with his nemesis—the top of Metro Tower is good for more than just solo contemplation—which, ugh, but he had done it, and slowly the two of them had eased their game back into safer waters.

"There must be a middle ground," he says now. "Maybe—maybe something like the brainbots, but engineered for good? I'm sure I could put something together that wouldn't look like mine. It might be fun to build another language for them—oh, I could base it in a more commonly-used one! No one would be expecting that…"

She sends him a dry kind of smile. "I guess introducing a new hero would kinda throw your whole thing off, huh."

Helpless, he shrugs. "He does need the help," he says. "But. I am…a handful. And he is tolerant of that. Between the two of us, we pull in a lot of tourism. I could…help? Maybe?"

"You guys do have a really solid comic-book setup going on," she admits. "Very golden-age Superman, you were right on the money there."

Megamind shoots her an amused glance and ignores the old pang that sends through him. "'You guys,'" he echoes. "As if you aren't part of it."

"Ah—I am an unwilling participant," Roxanne says, holding up a finger. "I never asked for any of this."

"Oh, well, I'll just drop you off in Vegas then and you can fend for yourself."

She laughs. "You will not!"

"I will! I so will."

Roxanne looks over at him, laughing, and Megamind realizes he is already quietly laughing back. The horrible screaming inside him has eased off, it seems. He is very decidedly not thinking about sitting with her. Being held. Very decidedly not looking at it. She offered, she offered; it is not as though he asked.

"Oh all right," he says. "Fine. I suppose I'll hang around and ensure my unwilling participant comes home in one piece."

"Well that's awfully kind of you, thank you. I'm sure this has nothing to do with the fact that I'm driving and you can't drop me off anywhere."

She's grinning ahead past the controls at the road and the ground below them, eyes flicking around at the scenery on either side. Her stance is relaxed, and her expression…appears to be honestly warmly amused.

Huh. She really isn't upset with him.

A swell of exhaustion rolls over him, along with the bizarre desire to rest his head in Roxanne's lap and close his eyes, but he shakes both the urge and his tiredness away. He's fine. He has embarrassed himself quite enough for one day. And if his calculations are correct, the hotel is only a few minutes ahead of them.

Finally.

Chapter Text

The girl behind the front desk of the Retreat on Charleston Peak has the remains of a high blonde ponytail slipping down the back of her head, stray wisps falling around her round face, eyeliner smudged up over her eyelids, and the kind of frozen smile upon seeing Megamind that Roxanne usually only sees from people back home in Metro. Her name tag says Bridget.

"Hi, checking in for Ritchi," Roxanne says, passing her ID and credit card across the counter. Megamind stands beside and behind her, silent. "Should be two rooms with a shared door."

"Uh-huh, one sec," says Bridget.

Roxanne waits.

Despite its name, the hotel is not on the peak of Mount Charleston. It's a little ways down the slope, in the shadow of a dropoff; the side of the hotel opposite the slope has a stunning view of the Rockies. The lobby is bright and spacious and contains not just the desk to check in, but several comfortable-looking, low-set leather chairs and sofas as well as a large fireplace. In the middle, a tree trunk rises to the ceiling, which is vaulted in a complicated cathedral style and supported with massive wooden beams ("What is happening with that roof," said Megamind on their way in, and Roxanne had not been able to answer; the ridges are laid out almost like wheel-spokes, which adds up to a truly stunning number of gables facing all directions). The whole space is outfitted in dark finishes and stone. The house where Roxanne and Megamind stayed in Missouri was rustic and charming; this hotel is rustic and grand.

Or…it was, once. It seems to be a bit rough around the edges these days, a little bit shabby, but Roxanne can see that it must have been magnificent in its heyday. Probably very expensive to maintain, especially all the way up here on the mountain. It does still look well-kept.

Behind the desk, Bridget sort of—bites her lip on an exhale and says, "Um," in the sort of voice that means not again. Roxanne immediately re-focuses.

"Something wrong?"

Another hard little exhale. "So, um. We switched to a new system recently."

Roxanne's heart sinks.

"And there was this mix-up with the computer, when we imported everything over. Um." She sounds incredibly distressed. "I'm really sorry, uh…I can do two rooms, but they won't be next to each other? Or I can do one room with two beds? The—it, it says just one room here in the computer," gesturing hopelessly at a screen Roxanne isn't able to see, "but it also shows you've definitely paid for two, I—I'm so sorry."

Some people Roxanne has met over the years would have raised hell about this. The grimace Bridget's wearing says she very much expects Roxanne to raise hell about this. But Roxanne is absolutely not going to raise hell about this, because for one thing, Bridget's expression and the state of her hair says several people have already raised hell with her today, and for another…what is she supposed to do? If there aren't any more of the rooms Roxanne planned on, then there aren't any more of those rooms.

She looks at Megamind.

"Oh and obviously we'll give you a discount on whatever you do choose," Bridget says in a rush, glancing back and forth between the two of them. Her level of nervousness has just visibly skyrocketed.

Megamind shrugs. Lifts his brows, pushes his mouth into a position that says your choice.

Roxanne shrugs back, nods, turns back to the desk with a sigh. "One room is fine. Refund the second room to the same card that made the reservation, please."

"Absolutely," Bridget says immediately, relief shining out of her whole face. "One sec…aaand…done. Now you should see that go through in the next day or so; if you don't, just call the number on the bottom of your invoice and tell them your reservations were messed up during the September transition to PheNyx and we'll get you sorted out, okay? Do you mind stairs?"

They both shake their heads.

"Okay, then I'm putting you in 323. It's got a balcony and a great view of the mountains and it's in a good position in the hall. Thanks for being such good sports," she adds, wilting. "It's been A Day."

Megamind steps closer to the counter. "One thing."

Bridget and her smile both freeze again.

"Can you tell me if a man with invisible arms and legs has checked in here."

Bridget remains frozen.

"Thank you," Megamind says, after a couple seconds. "You've been helpful."

"But—I didn't—"

"No, you didn't," he agrees. "I have no idea what the answer to whatever question I just asked was. Roxanne?"

"Yeah, let's head up." To Bridget, she says, "Good luck with the rest of your shift. Hang in there," and the last thing she sees before she gathers up her suitcase and hiking boots is a look on the girl's face like she's trying not to cry.

"Poor kid," she says, breathless, leading the way up the stairs. "Of all the weddings for there to be mix-ups in the system…"

"Mm. Villains are not known for our willingness to tolerate errors."

Roxanne nods. "I'm tempted to go back down after we drop our stuff off and give her some pointers."

"Not sure she would be brave enough to pull off the kinds of pointers you regularly utilize."

Roxanne feels her face heat. Aw. Wow. "Ha ha," she says, "yeah, maybe. She seemed pretty tired."

As they clear the landing at the second floor, Megamind glances at her. "And you're sure you're okay with sharing a room?"

She spreads her hands as best she can with her garment bag slung over her shoulder. "I don't mind, if you don't. And I'd really rather keep you nearby, sorry." She sends him a grimace as she readjusts her bag.

He nods. "Understood. And I do not mind. Here—"

He holds the door to the third floor open and Roxanne nods thanks as she ducks past.

As they're heading down the hall towards 323, Roxanne asks, "Do you want to see if they'll let us order dinner to the room tonight?"

"I really, really do."

She smiles a little. "We can do that. Oh—" She slides the door key over the RFID reader, the latch clicks, and she shoves the door open for Megamind to go in while she sorts out her suitcase, which has spun on its loose wheel and is being needlessly difficult.

"…Ah," says Megamind's voice, with a certain heaviness to it that catches her attention despite her struggles. "Hm."

Roxanne is already sighing as she drags her luggage in. "Don't tell me…"

But when she gets inside, there are the two expected beds. From Megamind's tone, she had thought there was another mix-up and they would have to share.

"What's wrong?"

Very dryly, he says, "I imagined there would be a partission of some kind. Exactly how 'nearby' were you hoping to keep me?" and Roxanne snorts into a bubble of laughter in spite of herself.

"No, no, it's fine," she says, "this is what I expected when she said two beds. But—suites do exist, I can run back down and see? If you want? It's up to you."

"Do not leave this up to me," he says, his wry smile dropping from his face.

"I mean, I'd rather just make do with this," Roxanne says. "Like I said, this was what I was expecting. But I also don't want you to be uncomfortable, so…"

Megamind stares at the beds.

It's a nice room. The ceiling slopes down sharply towards the door out onto the balcony under the slant of the roof above them and the lights are golden warm. The furniture is a little bit dated, but the space looks well-kept, and so do the pair of chairs and the little round table in the corner under the pendant light. The two bedspreads are softly white and very cozy-looking, as are the pillows.

Overall, it's pretty much what he was imagining on his way up, based on the lobby downstairs—just less spacious. More intimate.

That's…okay. That is okay. Roxanne wants to stay here, and Megamind has to imagine that if there was a 'suite' available for someone who had originally reserved two rooms, Bridget would have set them up in it. And this room has a door outside. To a balcony. Megamind has no guarantee another room would have that; Roxanne said yesterday she hadn't been able to get a room with a door outside.

At last he says, "I don't mind the close quarters if you don't."

"You sure?"

He nods.

And evidently, Roxanne truly does not mind, either, because she exhales and drops her shoulders. "Oh thank goodness. I really was not looking forward to harassing that poor girl down there! Which bed do you want? I assume you'll want to be closer to the balcony door?"

He nods again.

Then he blurts, because he has been enough of a weight on her today already, "Ah—if—you don't mind! If that is okay."

"Huh? Yeah, I don't care." She drags her suitcase forward, drops it, and flops down onto her bed with a phLUMph. "Yaaay," she mumbles into the pillow, "no more flying."

After a moment, Megamind abandons his own luggage and follows suit: "Yay, no more flying," he agrees, and he trudges around to the other bed and throws himself down as well.

Oh, good. It's comfortable. Good amount of squish, good amount of support. He lies still for a second or so, then lifts his head to squint at the other pillows and drag an extra down into position next to him, to prop himself up on and support his head and neck while still lying mostly on his front.

(Missing the warmth of Roxanne at his back, holding him, breathing him into his skin. Not remotely irritated with him for it. No trade, no punishment. He loves her so much, so much.)

Finally he subsides. "Mmm."

On the other bed, he hears Roxanne shift around and sit up. Her voice sounds warm and amused as she says, "You poor thing."

He cracks an eye and looks up at her, lifts his brow.

"This has all been really a lot for you, huh." She's smiling.

He closes his eyes again. "Mm-hm. But. 'S worth it." He heaves a sigh. "I'm having fun."

"Not too stressed?"

"The Master of All Villainy does NOT experience stress," he sneers, unmoving, and he hears Roxanne snort. 

"Good. Me, either. You're a good travel buddy." There's a soft clunk as she probably tips her head back against the headboard. "…God. I'm so tired."

"So nap."

"I can't nap," she exclaims, sounding scandalized. "We just got here!"

"Yes! All the more reason to nap!"

Roxanne hesitates.

When Megamind looks again, he finds her peering at him with an expression that he's coming to think of as uncertainly pensive.

He rolls his eyes. "Mmgh. I suspect your parents," he says as he shifts onto his back so he can unfasten and then kick-kick-kick out of his boots, "wanted to Go and Do immediately upon arrival, yes? I suspect this was because they refused to Stop and Do anything while driving, yes? We, on the other hand," his second boot thumps onto the floor and Megamind immediately drags his pillow down and elbows it into shape so he can support his long neck— "have very sensibly stopped and done many things! and are now under no imaginary obligation to Go and Do any things." He closes his eyes. Scowls and reaches up to push the pillow out from under his shoulders. "If you're tired, nap. I'm going to put my head down for an hour."

"Oh? The magnificent Megamind, napping?"

"Putting my head down," he says again, firm, as finally he laces his fingers together over his stomach and throws one ankle over the other. "For evil's sake lie down and close your eyes. I won't tell your mother if you don't."

That gets a laugh. "Okay. Let me just hang up our garment bags…"

She gets out of bed.

Megamind is fully expecting her to continue puttering around the room. He hears their bags rustle, hears the soft clicks as the hangers slide onto the bar of the little open closet-cubby just inside the door with its folded-up ironing board and clothes iron on the shelf. He thinks, probably then she will take her suitcase and unpack her clothes into the drawers of the room's bureau, or something. That's what the bureau is for.

Instead, there is a rustling nearby as Roxanne crawls onto the middle of her bed and pulls her own pillow under her head. "You're really having fun? You're still doing okay?"

"Hm? Oh. Yes." He heaves a sigh.

Hesitates. Steels himself, gathers his strength.

"And," he ventures, tipping his head towards her a little, "I'm…I…apologize. For earlier. I didn't mean to be so…mean. To you."

Incredibly, that also gets a laugh, this one sounding confused. "What? When? You weren't mean."

He slits his eye open again. Finds her smiling at him, still.

"I guess you were kinda grumpy?" she says with a shrug. "But that's okay, I get it—"

"I yelled at you today. And I called you stupid," he says, "you were upset," before he can stop himself. He immediately sinks his teeth into his tongue, because Roxanne seems to have moved past that and the last thing he wants to do is remind her to be angry with him—but—

She's still smiling, with a warm kind of amusement in the set of her eyebrows and the curve of her mouth. "Megamind," she says, fondness in her voice. "Oh, my god. You didn't say that because you meant it, you said it because you were freaking out; I knew that as soon as you said it. I knew it WHILE you were saying it."

"But—"

"You called yourself a worthless waste of my fucking time," she says. "Seriously, how else am I supposed to be about that but upset? But you didn't yell at me. You were, like, forty-five percent crankier than usual at worst. It's fine."

He shuts his eyes against the lump in his throat. "I am lucky we're friends."

Which he had not intended to say aloud, and doesn't actually realize he has said it aloud until Roxanne says, "Aw. I'm lucky, too. You're," she yawns, "really good for me, I think? You know, I don't think I ever would've noticed the thing about…what was it; holding off on deciding what I want until I know what other people want? Or, or not letting myself recognize what I want until…? Blah blah, whatever it was. I'm gonna have to think about that. I think." She sighs, then grins at Megamind's quiet snort of amusement. "Anyway," she says, "you're fun."

"Making my nemesis take care of himself, making my pawn rest. Why am I surrounded with workaholics."

"Says the guy who doesn't sleep for three days when he gets caught up in a new project?"

"Ah, I see Minion has been tattling." He wiggles for a moment, smoothing out a wrinkle in the blanket under him. "I have no one relying on me; I do not NEED to worry about myself."

"Aren't you relying on you?"

"Yes, and me is OBVIOUSLY one of my favorite things! So you may rest assured I do not need to worry about my 'me' any more than I already do."

Roxanne splutters into sleepy giggles. "You're so full of it! You should take better care of your you."

"Agree to disagree."

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, whatever."

Megamind sits up exactly an hour later to find that the room has darkened a little and the light has shifted on the ground outside. Roxanne has fully gone to sleep, sprawled out on top of the covers of the other bed. Her lips are parted, her features are relaxed.

His heart skips a beat as he finally actually realizes…He's here.

He's here. He made it, with Roxanne. And the last he saw before he closed his eyes was Roxanne still smiling at him, despite everything. Despite yesterday's awfulness, and despite his yelling at her for nothing, today.

That's still boggling his mind, every time he stops and thinks about it. He said to her, don't talk to me, and she not only seemed to not take it personally, she actually brought him over to sit with her and calmed him down before he could collapse in on himself out of furious regret. She held him close and breathed him down, and then she let him sit with her almost all the rest of the way to the hotel. Thank heavens for Metro Man giving him the opportunity to extract himself without mentioning it; that was…

Well. That was pathetic, really. Unbelievably kind of Roxanne to do for him, but unquestionably pathetic of him.

(Fucking pitiful, well done, self. Couldn't hold it together just one more hour, distraction in your hands and everything. Distraction SHE PROVIDED, not even your own distraction, you deplorable fucking child.)

Quite a lot of the back of his mind is still currently snarling at him for letting himself be comforted that way. For leaning on her. For wanting and accepting the kindness she was offering, when she offered it…

…But.

The tone of the snarling is beginning to resonate more than the snarling itself. Roxanne said yesterday, "whose words are those?" and Megamind has not been able to quite let that go. He had thought they were his words. He had thought they were simple facts. They certainly sound like him.

But Megamind learned his vocal cadence from his mentor.

And he learned his worth still earlier: he is worth as much as his work and no more. It's all he is. It's all he's allowed to be. This is how his story goes: Megamind lives in the box allowed for him; when he leaves it, he is beaten to the ground and kicked until he stays there, and then he screams himself back into his box because he has no business leaving it and he should know that by now. This world does not want him. He is lucky for the box in which he fits. These are facts. This is his destiny and he is grateful for it. Grateful to have learned his destiny so young, and gotten such a head start.

…Aren't these facts? They are, aren't they?

When he leaves his box, when the beating starts…who exactly is beating him down, anymore?

Is it the world?

…Is it him?

As he gazes around the room, lost in thought, his eye falls on his bag. In one of its pockets—he made sure this morning, in case he ran into another situation where he could not return to the ship—is the tablet on which he will be able to keep up with his work and draft the outlines of the blueprints he's been playing with in his head. The tablet from which he'll be able to push patches for his latest run of brainbots if they need it. Roxanne is napping and Megamind is sitting on his bed in his stocking feet with his legs stretched out; he should be working. He should.

But.

He doesn't want to.

And…well, this is a vacation, isn't it? Isn't this a vacation? Supervillains don't go on vacation, but that is what he told Metro Man and it made sense at the time to say it. Can't he do this? Why can't he do this? He's not in uniform. It's not as though he is being paid.

If Roxanne were trying to work, the way Megamind is telling himself to work, Megamind would be doing everything in his power to lure her away. To…tease and tug at her, to encourage her to take the vacation she so thoughtfully planned for them both. So. It is…probable, then, that Megamind should do the same to himself, yes?

His mother's people were nomads, he remembers; he has his father's territoriality but his mother's tolerance for change. Apparently.

He should leave his box. He's on vacation. He's allowed. Isn't he? 

Minion would be able to center him. Minion would know what to do.

Biting his lip, he rolls out of bed and stands for a moment in his socks, looking around. Dithering, ugh. It's just…what does a supervillain do, if not work towards villainy?

He glances over at the other bed again. Should he wake Roxanne? She mentioned wanting to talk to Minion earlier. She also, he remembers abruptly, wanted to make other calls, about what he told her about his…experiences, years ago. Should he tell her more? About those? The aftermath of that conversation was unpleasant when it hit and Megamind doesn't want to do as she described—talk while fully himself, fully present, and feel everything—but Roxanne was so shockingly reassuring to him about it before she went away to bed. She said she would listen. Maybe it's time he finally talked to someone? He could talk to Roxanne.

The balcony door is mostly glass, set in a well-insulated frame, and the view through it is stunning. Mountains after mountains after mountains all the way into the fading sky. Absolutely nothing like anything Megamind could ever see at home in Metro.

He turns towards it, feeling lost. He stands in his socks, empty-handed, his mind reaching for…something. A plan.

Surely there are things to…do? Here? Roxanne said this place was almost hilariously close to the Las Vegas Strip. And she brought her hiking boots, in case of hiking trails, and…

Oh, aha. A thought occurs, and he perks up, blinking, lifting his head and dropping his shoulders, bouncing a little in place. Yes! Roxanne planned so much and so well for the trip down here. She found that lovely place in Missouri, and the bed and breakfast yesterday. She arranged their rooms here at this hotel—it isn't her fault they need to share. And now Megamind can take a turn planning! He can figure it out; he is good at planning! Perhaps Bridget downstairs will have ideas.

…Speaking of whom. Megamind scowls. He may have some Ideas, himself, re: Bridget downstairs.

He squares himself upright and turns to pull his boots back on.

When Roxanne opens her eyes again, the room is a lot darker than it was earlier. The sun must be low on the mountaintop behind the hotel.

Megamind is gone.

Confused, she pushes herself up on her hands and looks over towards the bathroom, but the light is off there, too. Did he go out? Somewhere? Wow, okay. But that's probably promising, if so, right? If he was feeling okay enough to go wandering, that's a good sign. 

Roxanne stretches, yawns. Rubs her fingers into the corners of her eyes and glances around.

Huh. Well. If her friend is out and about, there's no reason she should stay in. She flicks the light on and quickly unpacks her bag into the hotel room's chest of drawers, then pulls a heavier shirt on over her tee shirt and her big sweater on over that. It wasn't particularly cold when she and Megamind arrived earlier, but there was a slight nip to the air that pointed to it getting chilly after sunset; they're awfully high up, after all.

Checking her phone reveals no texts, but Roxanne is standing by the balcony door after having put her suitcase 'away' behind the little table in the corner with its two chairs on either side. "Hmm," she says to herself, and glances outside.

The front of the hotel is beautifully landscaped, with trees and rocks and gardens and an enormous, vaguely oblong duck-pond with a waterfall at one end. On one side, the hotel; on the other side is the long, narrow parking lot. Beyond that is a sharp dropoff with benches set along to enjoy the view. And standing between two of these benches…

One of the many nice things about traveling with Megamind is the fact that he cuts a highly distinctive silhouette. Roxanne chuckles and zips into her boots, grabs the room key, and turns out the light as she leaves.

"Hey, you!"

Megamind feels his face light up as he turns, his anxious nerves fading. "Roxanne!"

She's walking across the grounds to meet him, tall in Minion's boots and fashionably soft-looking in the enormous wide-knit sweater she's shrugged on over her plaid shirt. Smiling at him. Still.

"Wow, I wasn't expecting to find you all the way outside," she exclaims, bright with amusement and greeting. "I guess you're feeling better?"

He nods. Resting helped, and so did the fact that Roxanne truly was not upset with him, and so he decided on his way down to the lobby: yes. He would be brave. He is on vacation! Therefore he has made surprise vacation-type plans! Hopefully Roxanne will not mind. Surely Roxanne will not mind? They have a whole day here before the wedding; surely it is okay to try and actually do something with that time.  

"Yay, I'm glad! I'm feeling way better, too," she laughs, sounding self-conscious, oblivious to Megamind's hopes for tomorrow; "you were right, I needed that nap more than I thought."

Megamind lowers his eyelids at her. "Oh ho ho, say that again," he teases. "I never get to hear I was right, not from you."

She laughs and elbows him as she steps up to stand next to him and look out over the valley. "And you won't hear it again until next time you deserve it," she retorts, "your head's big enough as it is."

He snorts.

For a moment, they stand, gazing around at the view. The shadows are dark on the mountainsides, but their tops are still lit up bright against each other. Sparrows chirp in the bushes in the landscaping. Behind them, the fountains of the big pond in front of the hotel rush and rattle bright against the water's surface.

"It's beautiful here," Roxanne says. Then she chuckles. "We're at something like seven thousand feet, right now—feels like there should be a hawk down there, circling. I guess it's too late in the—"

Megamind cups his hands around his mouth and lets out a sharp descending scream through his teeth. A high khe-eer, breaking and hoarse, sending it out into the sky they're in. Roxanne jumps.

"—day?" she finishes. She sends him a grin and raises her eyebrows.

He thrusts a finger into the air. "I cannot materialize a hawk for you, Miss Ritchi, but I can do sound effects!"

Roxanne bubbles into another peal of startled-sounding laughter. "I see that! That was really good, actually. God, I have got to get you out birding with my Aunt Irma, she will love you. You could call the birds right in for her."

"This is your mother's sister?"

"Her sister-in-law. My mom's brother Eric's wife."

"Hmm."

She squints over at him. "What are you thinking?"

"Perhaps if I endear myself to your aunt, your mother will be less inclined to murder me."

That gets a very dry-sounding, mirthless snort. "Ha. Yeah, I…doubt it."

He looks at her. She's gazing down into the gathering dusk, her lips thin and her chin wrinkled up.

"My mom is…not always the best at listening to me." She shakes her head. "She's pretty good about most things! Usually! But there's this massive blind spot where you're concerned. I've told her I don't know how many times, you aren't going to hurt me. But. She's convinced. You're brainwashing me."

Megamind feels his own face wrinkle down into confusion. His plots frequently involve physical threats, dangerous pits of spikes and traps and blades and lasers, all of which he could absolutely understand a parent being upset about. But brainwashing? "I see you maybe once a week, at most," he says. "Usually less."

She gives an enormous shrug and folds her arms over her chest, tucks her fingers in. "I know! I know. But I…am being kidnapped, by a professional supervillain, and I do have flamethrowers aimed at my head. And I'm not really a sobbing nervous wreck about it anymore. So I must be brainwashed. Or hypnotized."

Megamind swallows. "Aimed four inches to the left of your head. Technically. Usually."

There, that gets a more genuine chuckle. "I know that," she says as she gently leans towards him, bumps him with her arm. "But she doesn't, and she won't believe me when I tell her. Like I said, she really is mostly fine about everything but you. It's…one of the more irritating things about talking with her."

He's quiet.

"For a while, I was just trying not to mention you. But you're part of my life! You and Minion! She asks what I've been up to and it just…sucks, you know? So now I've kind of worked around it by telling her about my friend 'Micah' who I met through work."

Megamind splutters. "You—what? Why Micah?"

"Sounds close enough to 'Mega' that it's not a problem if I slip." She grins at his bark of startled laughter. "Micah works in robotics research and development at Larken Labs," she says. "His brother Minnie is in fashion design."

"You're joking."

"I am not."

"Minnie?"

"I've told her I have no idea what his real name is. I figure it's a joke, you see, because he's huge."

"Oh, of course, yes. Built like a gorilla."

"That is exactly what I've told her! She seems to have assumed he was a football player in high school."

Shaking his head, Megamind grins out at the mountains. "Unbelievable."

…Roxanne talks about him? To her family? She talks about him and Minion to her family!

After a few seconds, Roxanne sighs. "She would like you, if she met you," she says, more quietly. "If she would just give you a chance. Most people would."

"That has never been my experience."

"Your experience hasn't included many chances. The people here have been nice, though, right? On this trip, I mean. The people who don't know who you are?"

This is true.

It was exactly what he was thinking about last night, wasn't it? Tanner was all right. And Beth. The kids at the twine. And the pattern continued through today: Lorrie was fine and really everyone at the bed and breakfast was okay; he received some stares but nothing much worse than that. The children and their parents at Garden of the Gods yesterday stared, but held no scorn he could recognize in their faces or the way they spoke. All the staring here is curious, not angry. Caroline was openly kind to him.

And Bridget was relieved, earlier this evening when Megamind came back downstairs. Megamind steeled himself and threw himself into the breach labeled 'helping' and it worked. Bridget was relieved. And then helpful to him. Really the only awkward part of that interaction was when she asked him out because she thought he was flirting; he really had NO idea what to do with that.

He stirs and looks over at Roxanne. "'Anymore'?"

"Hmm?"

"You said, you aren't mentally a sobbing nervous wreck about it 'anymore'."

"Oh. Ha." She shakes her head. "The first few proper kidnappings were…kinda rough, I'll be honest. I knew your patterns, I knew the odds of you hurting me were on the low side! I was honestly even kind of excited, in the moment. But…" She sighs. "Yeah. I…used to freak out pretty hard, afterwards. After I got home."

And two days ago she let him tackle her down into the lake, and then she chased him into deep water where she could not stand, and she borrowed his slippers to step outside and look at the loons and the sun on the water. She slept with her bedroom door unlocked, and Megamind only a wall away. 

In the beginning, Megamind honestly had not cared if his pawns were afraid. In fact he hoped they were! Fear was better for the show. Roxanne was snarky and snappish and new, and he didn't realize until much, much later—she's mean when she's angry, and angry when she's scared. The second time she woke up in his chair she snarled at him for being a 'grandstanding moron with a Napoleon complex.'

"I'm sorry," he says.

Roxanne looks at him. Megamind sees her head turn in his peripheral vision, but he just—lifts his chin, stares out at the mountains with his arms over his chest and his lips thin.

After a moment, she bumps him again. "Worth it."

"I don't know about that," he says. "Therapy is often expensive, I'm told."

Roxanne barks a startled-sounding laugh. "Ha! I guess so. But I would have needed it anyway, and I'd much rather have spent the money on you than on him. Plus now I get to hang out with you," she adds, before he can ask, "which is nice! You're really chill when you're not, you know, in villain mode."

It's Megamind's turn to snort. "What? Chill? Lies and slander, slander and lies; I have NEVER had 'chill' in my life."

"You chill at my place literally all the time."

"No! Very infrequently!"

"At least once a month."

He huffs. Once a month is an exaggeration, he thinks, but he hasn't actually averaged it out. She might be right. "One day in thirty is NOT 'all the time.'"

Roxanne is still laughing, shaking her head. It's a nice sound. Familiar. Megamind is struggling to keep his mouth from curling upwards at the corners, really struggling to maintain his offended scowl.

"Him," he says, to hide this.

"Oh…ugh. Yeah." She hesitates. "I don't know if you remember the guy I was dating when you started grabbing me off the street, but that relationship was, uh. Super unhealthy, it turned out. Abusive? Eventually?"

He recoils and turns to stare at her in the gathering dusk.

Incredibly, she's laughing again. "Yeah. I didn't think it was that bad; I actually didn't even realize how bad it was until I was out of it and looking back. I'm told that's pretty normal, but…god, I still feel so stupid for it. Anyway, yeah, you were NOT the only reason I was in therapy. I kept going for a lot longer than I might have otherwise, since…I mean, being regularly kidnapped by a supervillain kinda seems like a thing to get therapy about? But it really wasn't you. Originally."

"What happened?"

"What happened was I try to see the best in people. Sort of a habit of mine." She sighs. "I'd rather not go any deeper into it right now, sorry."

Blinking, still sort of in shock at all of this, he says, "Of course. Of course, yes. Yes. I—okay."

She glances over at him. "You really didn't know?"

"I really didn't," he says, frantically trying to think of what to say. What…oh, what did Roxanne say to him? When she found out about his time in Washington? He was fairly out of it at the time but he remembers, he remembers, and he finally does manage to stammer out, "I'm—but, but I don't—think any less of you? I am, ah—sorry? That happened? To you?"

"Thanks." She leans sideways against his arm for a second. "If it helps…the way I think of it, I wouldn't have the life I do now without all that garbage, and I really like the life I have now! It's in the past. I'm fine."

He's quiet for a moment, coming down from his panicky oh god what does anyone say to this oh god oh no. But—

"That's why it's been so easy for you to maintain your ruse with Metro Man," he realizes. "I have wondered."

"Yep! I've been taking 'me time.' It's been really great, actually."

"And the reason for the doorman, as well?"

She nods. And—she hesitates again—

And then, slowly and to Megamind's absolute shock, she puts her arm through his and steps to stand closer to him. The whole left side of him lights up with warmth and pulls towards her like a magnet and before Megamind knows what's happening and before Roxanne can speak, he blurts, "But I am—so volatile, I can be vicious," because it has just struck him that oh god, okay, so Roxanne's desire for privacy does not, in fact, stem only from the creeps that began to turn up in her periphery when her career took off; oh god, Megamind has been intruding on a completely different set of parameters than he thought he was; "if I am in your home and you do not want me there I will leave, just tell me to leave—"

"I know! I know you will—"

"But—"

"Megamind, stop."

He stops.

"I know you'll go away if I tell you to go away," she says, in a voice that sounds both like amusement and like she's rolling her eyes at him. "I have already told you to go away, and you've done it. I'm not worried. I told you before, remember? You and Minion have standing invitations."

"You also said it was me and him and nobody else," he frets, "and we didn't ask."

"I don't care."

Megamind blinks.

"All's well that ends well," Roxanne says firmly, "and I have ended up with a friend who can just turn up unannounced and expect absolutely nothing from me by way of even conversation. Seriously, I can think of probably three separate occasions where we've, like, nodded at each other and then proceeded to go about our evenings? You're perfect. It's fine."

Once upon a time, back when all Roxanne was to him was a pawn in his game, Megamind would have been appalled to hear she enjoyed his company so well. He would have snarled at her, threatened her; he would have done everything he could think of to restore the balance of fear to which he is accustomed from the world. To fear and be feared is safer than to love. He knows this. It was a lesson beaten into him.

But love is stronger, he's beginning to realize. Fear is safer, but love is stronger, and so here Megamind is anyway: standing with Roxanne at his side and her arm looped companionably through his as the evening falls away dark in the valleys below them. He showed his hand rather badly just now, he knows, but the abrupt, sick-ugly swoop of his stomach felt as though he narrowly missed a bullet from a gun he had not realized was loaded. If Roxanne started locking her balcony door upon their return to Metro City the way he imagined earlier, he could not bear it. The risk is worth it, it's worth it, so here he stands. But it would break him.

Still, she seems insistent all remains well, so Megamind swallows down his regret and how spooked he is and clears his throat. "Ah," he says, "good. Yes. My…vast and enviable quantities of experience with being friends has once again 'arrived' in 'clutch,' behold my social prowess. …You don't have to laugh that hard."

"Sorry," she wheezes, "sorry, oh no. Just, I could HEAR the little quotation marks around clutch, oh my god."

Behind them, the sun finally sinks fully behind the mountaintop, and Megamind hesitates and then dares to rest his hand briefly over Roxanne's on his arm. "You're shivering," he says, grinning in spite of himself at her helpless giggles, "and I'm hungry. Let's go inside?"

"That sounds good." She pats him and then steps away, sniffling, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "Oh, wow. Heh. You still want to order dinner to the room?"

"I imagine I can brave the restaurant," he says. "It is a nice hotel. Probably has a good wine list."

Roxanne sends him a quizzical look as they start to head back. "You don't drink."

"No, but you do, occasionally," he says. "And we made it! Three days on the road!" He skips in front of her and spins to walk backwards, beaming at her and throwing his arms out wide as he declares, "That seems like a thing to celebrate! So?"

She is smiling. She seems happy. God knows how, Megamind will never understand; everything about today should have sent her running from him in mocking scorn, he cannot possibly be worth all this effort. But she's smiling and her voice is warm as she says, "You know what? Yeah, actually. That sounds nice. Good idea."

And if that extra little good idea at the end puts a tiny spring in his step or a goofy startled smile on his face in spite of his recently-rattled nerves, well, it's dark. Probably he doesn't need to be TOO embarrassed.

Chapter Text

Dinner is pleasant. Megamind has a bit of a struggle searching for food he's sure to be able to eat, but there is a chicken entree with tomatoes that ends up working for him. Roxanne is, once again, grateful for her own mostly-uncomplicated digestion. Also, grateful for the hotel's extensive wine list—Megamind was right. It's been a long few days on the road, and it's nice to relax a little bit. Megamind chats with her over dinner, not really hiding his amusement as Roxanne grows increasingly talkative.

It's later in the evening at this point, but not so late that two new customers would be an undue hardship on the kitchens—there are a number of other guests in the restaurant area, including one or two who seem to have sat down fairly recently. And Roxanne does notice a couple of people she suspects will be at the wedding on Wednesday among the other patrons—Megamind sends a polite nod towards an older woman with deep brown skin broken through with faint lines of shining orange, and eyes that shine so brightly white that it hurts Roxanne to look at them. A green…clown? in a curly maroon hat? is at another table. Both appear to be dining alone. She and Megamind select a table a good distance away from either of them, but Roxanne nods at them as well and then does her best not to stare.

It's not too hard. Megamind is always engaging, and he really does seem to be in a much better mood than he was earlier. He clears his throat and informs her, when she wonders aloud about things to do tomorrow, that he already has made one plan that he hopes Roxanne will join him for. He also has another idea that could be fun. But no he won't tell her what they are, it's a surprise. Roxanne laughs, delighted, and tells him all right, keep your secrets; you have good surprises. She's down for whatever plan he's thought of; his sweet face is so nervous as he tells her, and so pleased when she reacts well and doesn't push for very many answers. He's so fun.

("But can I have a hint," she teases.

"It involves visiting something very old."

"Hm!" She thinks for a moment. "Dinosaur bones?"

Megamind hesitates. "It…almost certainly has dinosaur bones in it somewhere," he finally hedges, and when Roxanne protests that he could be talking about literally anywhere on Earth, he simply shrugs at her and grins and wiggles his eyebrows. And laughs, when Roxanne calls him a goober.)

She finally asks him what the deal is with his bottles of poison from Minion, and to her surprise, he actually does explain. They are full of a homemade sugar nectar made mostly of honey and water, plus a bit of lemon. The sugar is good because it helps fuel his metabolism, but the nectar also contains a considerable amount of cyanide extracted from bitter cassava. This helps his mood, he tells her. It also helps him speak; he has trouble putting words in the right order without it. The aphasia started happening in high school, along with his sensitivity to the emotional pheromones of the people around him. Caffeine helps dull that particular sense, Megamind says, which is good because humans cannot regulate themselves and being around very many of them for any great length of time without something to dull that particular sense is a miserable experience. But cyanide steadies his words and his mind. He still has his ups and downs, but everything in the universe seems so much worse if he goes too long without it.

"How on earth did you figure that one out?" Roxanne asks. "Do I want to know?"

"Probably not. But it was honestly rather funny, looking back." He sounds perfectly cheerful. "Synthesizing and then consuming a lot of cyanide is not something anyone does to feel better, but I did feel MUCH better afterwards, because it turned out the thing I was trying to kill myself with was actually something I was craving because it would go a very long way towards helping me NOT want to kill myself, isn't that fun."

Roxanne risks a smile. "I…suppose I can see the humor in that."

"Thank evil YOU can. Minion didn't find out about it until a couple years ago and he WAS NOT amused."

"Oh no!"

"Full panic mode, yes."

"Aw, Minion!"

"In his defense, there is a very strong possibility that when I die, he'll lose quite a lot of himself." Megamind sighs and cants his head. "We aren't sure. He is my mindtwin, my other half. Literally. We are very nearly a single entity when we reconfirm our binding link, but we aren't entirely certain how deep that goes."

"Oh wow," says Roxanne, genuinely taken aback and trying desperately not to ask any of the twenty-five new questions she's just thought of, "that's…wow, okay. I guess I might have freaked out pretty hard, too, in that case."

He sends her a grin. "I'm glad you didn't."

Around them, the quiet clink of other diners' utensils and the low ebb and flow of indistinct conversation at other tables is comfortingly normal, and the hotel's dark wood and stone are warm and inviting. Music is playing quietly, and the light is leaving the sky outside, and everything is lovely.

"Worth saying, though," Roxanne offers, "I am…really, really happy you failed. I'm glad you're here."

Megamind's widest smile finally splits his face for the first time all day. Bright and sparkling. "So am I," he says, and he honestly does sound like he means it. "Most days. And here, specifically! I know I have been something of a grump, but there has been so much new! I really am enjoying this 'vacation' thing, I think."

Roxanne returns his grin. "Yay! Me too, I've really missed this kind of stuff. Yesterday afternoon was unfortunate, but…you can find yourself on the road, a little. Sometimes." She shrugs, smiles down at her wine glass as she absently moves it in little circles on the tabletop with her fingertips. "It's exhausting, but also super rewarding? I love it."

"Journey over destination, in action," he says, and she beams at him and nods.

They've finished eating and their plates have long since been cleared away when they finally realize what time it is and, laughing, agree it's probably time for bed. Or at least to head back to the room. The restaurant area is nearly empty.

As they're climbing the stairs, Megamind says over his shoulder, "You are so kind to me, Roxanne. Arranging all this. It really is a lot of fun."

"Aw," she says, "I'm glad! And you could travel more, you know. See more of the country. Really anytime you wanted."

"Ha," he replies, "I don't think it would be half as good a time without you. Do you want the bathroom first?"

"No, you go ahead. I probably won't be too long, but I want to grab a shower."

Holding the door to the third floor for him to go through, Roxanne sends him a smile. "You've been really great to travel with, too," she says as he passes. "I mean that. I told you before, I don't usually travel with people, but I may need to amend that to 'people who aren't Megamind.' I don't know what I was even so worried about before we left."

He lets out a startled-sounding laugh. "Oh! Well. That's wonderful to hear. You will not hear me complaining," and Roxanne laughs through a yawn as she follows him down the hall to their room.

Megamind does end up doing a little bit of work on his tablet while Roxanne showers. He might as well; it's late, and a few ideas bubbled up and started percolating around in the back of his mind while he was exploring outdoors before his companion woke up. If he doesn't get them out somehow, he's not going to be able to sleep.

True to her word, Roxanne is only a few minutes in the bathroom. When she steps out in her pajamas, towel-drying her hair, Megamind looks up—

"Hey," Roxanne says, with a small half-smile. "By the way. Do you mind if we at least just call Minion before bed tonight? It's okay if you'd rather wait, but…this is all eating at me pretty hard. Yesterday, I mean. I can deal with it," she adds, when Megamind doesn't move, "I do understand if you'd rather let sleeping dogs lie. It can absolutely wait. But I wanted to ask."

…Hmm.

He doesn't want to do this. Doesn't want to revisit this at all, ever.

But Roxanne is the one asking. She is standing in a room they are sharing, in her bare feet and her sleeping clothes, drying her water-dark hair after showering with Megamind not even twenty feet away. A flimsy knob lock the only thing standing between her and the supervillain she's traveling with. She is putting so much faith in him. The least he can do is return some of it.

And he does want answers. If what she told him yesterday is true, then he definitely does want answers.

He sighs and lays his tablet down. "We can call Minion."

"It's really okay if you don't want to—"

"We can call Minion," he says again. "We might as well. It…seems like the thing to do, regardless. Tell him we're here. Do you want to call now?"

Relief shining out of her face, she nods.

So Megamind gets up, and fetches his phone, and he dials and puts it on speaker as Roxanne curls up in the other green chair across the tiny table from him. Behind and above them, the vintage lamp arching out of the corner of the room shines golden over everything.

Minion's phone rings four times before he picks up.

"Sir?"

"Ollo Minion," Megamind says, at the same time that Roxanne exclaims, "Minion! Hi! How's everything at home?"

"Oh—hi, Miss Ritchi! Um. We're fine here," he says, "everything is good. Very quiet! Are you…? Is everything okay?"

"Everything is great so far," she says. "Made it to Nevada earlier this afternoon, we just finished up dinner. It's beautiful here—can you receive photos?"

"I can," he says, which is a pleasant surprise. "Yes, send me pictures!"

"Text me so I have your number! Do you have mine?"

"I do, yes."

"We did have a slight mishap yesterday," Megamind says. He's laid his phone on the table and gone back to his tablet; he needs to be doing something with his hands. "I'll let Miss Ritchi fill you in. She has some questions for you about Washington."

"About—oh? Oh. Oh, no, what—what happened?"

Roxanne grimaces. "We stumbled across some kind of abandoned underground facility and I learned some things I maybe shouldn't have," she says, glancing at Megamind, "and now I can't let go."

"Facility?"

"In Colorado. I think probably a missile silo, based on…pretty much nothing except what I already know. It could have been anything, really."

"It was still transmitting something," Megamind says. "Probably just a fluke, but it wasn't on any frequency currently in use, so I wouldn't be surprised if she was right."

"Oh that is strange," Minion frets. "And, and so…I'm assuming Sir is…somewhat less than okay?"

"I'm fine now."

"He's mostly fine now," Roxanne amends, and shrugs at the disgruntled Look Megamind sends her. "But, um. He mentioned some things afterwards, and I'm…confused. He said the government stole you too? Out of Evil Lair, in the nineties?"

"That's correct."

"Okay, but that shouldn't have been possible," Roxanne says.

"And yet," Minion replies, dry.

"No, no, I believe you! It's just, they put really extensive laws in place outlawing that kind of thing back in the mid-eighties, it was a whole big thing. Can you—can you tell me what happened? Would you mind? It's okay if you don't want to," she quickly adds, "I know this is all super sudden, so if you need some time or even if you just plain don't want to talk about—"

"I can tell you what I remember." He honestly doesn't sound bothered at all about this, just sort of surprised. "I don't mind. But I'm afraid I don't have a whole lot of specifics. How much do you want?"

"Anything you're willing to tell me," she says, immediate. "Anything you remember—what happened, if there was anything that stood out to you as weird…anything. Names, if you remember any."

"Hmm." There is the sound of soft bubbling, and then he says, "Well. My suit went down while I was checking on a couple of projects. Sir was away at school and my neural interface glitched out; I couldn't reconnect. Some people in dark glasses pulled my dome off the suit and dumped me in a tank."

"You had no warning?"

"No, none. I do remember the water parameters were similar to mine."

Startled, she pauses. "You were being kidnapped and you noticed your water parameters?"

"I usually have to brace myself for changes," Minion says. "But there wasn't much of a change. I think I would have been way more scared if there was a big difference; at first I was mostly just confused. Disoriented."

"Gotcha." She nods. "And the brainbots? They didn't stop these guys? Oh, and did you notice if they were in uniforms?"

"We didn't have brainbots advanced enough for that yet," Minion says.

"I was young," Megamind says, flat. Roxanne is writing; she misses the bitter way his lip curls. "My security was not yet up to snuff."

"The brainbots were just extra hands, back then," Minion explains. "Not outfitted for security. So, no, the men came in, grabbed me, loaded me into the back of a truck and strapped my tank in, and then off we went. I think so, for the uniforms, but I didn't get a good look."

"Army fatigues? Green?"

"Oh, no, just gray. Very plain."

"And they took you to D.C.?" She glances at her notes. "Really, you weren't able to get a good look at them, at all?"

"Well, nobody was in the back with me. And it took a while to get there, there was a whole change in personnel. The van I was in had windows; I remember the light changed, and I remember sleeping once. And I was getting really scared, but then we stopped for…I don't know how long, an hour? and a man climbed in the back with me and he finally actually set up some filtration and lights and a microphone and speaker system for me."

Roxanne frowns.

"He said…oh, something like, he was terribly sorry, there was some kind of awful mix-up, he was appalled at all this. He would be…representing me. Something like that. Advocating for me, helping get my paperwork filled out so it wouldn't happen again."

Megamind lifts his head again as his hands go still. His face rumples up in confusion. "Paperwork."

"What names do you remember," Roxanne says again. To Megamind, more quietly, she says, "They didn't send you copies of anything?" and he shakes his head, frowning hard. His jaw is very tight.

Okay. Weird.

"I remember one of the guys that grabbed me was named…Jason?" Minion says, and Roxanne refocuses. "Or maybe they called him Jacob? Jamie? I don't know. It was hard to hear until I got the microphone. And I don't think I saw him again, anyway—like I said, they changed personnel. Everyone was different when we got there. And I was mostly with Agent Allbright from there on out, anyway."

Roxanne had resumed taking notes, but now she stops writing again and fully looks up, blinking. "Wait, Allbright?"

"Yes. Something like that, anyway. He was very reassuring—"

"One L or two?"

"Two, I think? Maybe? But I'm not good with spelling."

"He really isn't," Megamind says in an undertone.

"Anyway," Minion says, "I'm afraid I don't have a whole lot else to tell. It was hard for me to hear anything clearly, the sound system they had wasn't very good. Agent Allbright stayed with me pretty much the whole time, made sure I was comfortable, made sure my filtration was kept up and my water was okay. He did his best to explain what was going on, but it was all really over my head. It was to make sure I was on some kind of list, so they couldn't do something like that again without asking. And then, and then, um. There was something about Sir, and intimidation tactics, and, ah…and then I went home."

"She knows, Minion," Megamind says.

"And then Machiavillain took me home," Minion amends. "She—really, Sir, you told her about him?"

"He was relevant to the conversation," he snaps, ears very pink and shoulders very stiff and apparently unaware of the hairs going up on the back of Roxanne's neck.

"Machiavillain took you home," she says, and at Minion's affirmative, she asks, "Do you remember who called him?"

"What?"

"To pick you up. Who told him to come pick you up?"

"I did."

She looks at Megamind.

"I'm not going into details," he says, flat. "I made it clear I could and would bring Hell down around all their ears if they didn't give Minion back to me. They capitulated. And so Machiavillain went and got Minion. For me. He said he would go and get Minion; I didn't need to go."

"Wait, I'm confused. Did you ask?" Roxanne shakes her head, squinting. That was surprisingly unclear. "Did you ask or did he offer?"

"I don't see why that's important."

"Humor me? Please?"

He's staring at her. After a couple of seconds he presses his lips together and then very stiffly says, "I…yes. I asked."

Roxanne blinks and feels her eyebrows rocket up under her bangs. He doesn't remember. From how he's acting, Megamind doesn't remember.

And, sure enough: "It was a stressful couple of weeks," Megamind protests, coloring, defensive. "I was not at my best, but yes, I asked. I didn't want to go anywhere near the place, I was—you saw how I was, out there! I was worse back then!"

"Are you sure?"

"Sir could barely talk about it, after."

"Yes! I…and he didn't push me on it or anything, he…he was helpful! He helped me," he insists. There is an oddly plaintive note in his voice. "I came to him for help, I could barely think straight, I didn't know what to do—he helped!"

She swallows and nods, writes, Mach - lots of help. Across the table from her, Megamind does sit back in his chair after she gets that down, although he still looks very troubled. "Minion," Roxanne says aloud, "Did he bring you straight home?"

"As far as I recall."

"And do you remember if there was much resistance when Megamind demanded your return?"

He pauses. Finally says, "I don't remember a big fuss. I wasn't very in the loop, though. Maybe there was a lot."

Roxanne looks at Megamind to ask and that didn't strike either of you as strange at all?—

—but then she softens. Her friend's expressive face is still dark with tension, the line of his mouth is hard and flat. His eyes are distant.

"Hey," she says, reaching across the table to touch his shoulder. "You okay?"

"I'm fine now," he snaps, twitching away. "At the time, no, I was very much NOT okay, and I do not like that I cannot specifically recall whether I asked or he offered! I thought—I thought I asked, I thought—he always said—and he was supportive, he was—"

"It's okay if it's fuzzy—"

"It's NOT," he snaps, so sharply that she startles. "It's not! My memory is not fuzzy, it isn't! My memory is flawless! I—this isn't—"

"I think maybe we better stop here," Minion says, sounding nervous. "Hm? Yeah, it's—no, it's fine. What?"

Roxanne pauses, distracted. "Wait, is someone there with you?"

"No one important," Minion says.

Megamind scoffs a mirthless laugh and then loudly says, "Hi, Wayne," and from the other end of the line comes a distant, "Hey, little buddy."

"What?" Roxanne exclaims. "What is Wayne doing there?"

"Nothing important," Minion says. "Sir? Are you okay?"

"I am as okay as I always am," Megamind says. "Peachy keen, etcet'rrrrera. Listen, it's fine, go with him if you want to. Have a vacation, it…doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. We'll sort everything out when we all get home. Good night."

"But—"

"GOOD NIGHT. Minion, call me later if you must. Wayne, if anything happens to him, it's your head on the spike at the top of the Tower."

"I'm aware."

"Night for now, Sir!"

Megamind pokes the End Call button and then drags both hands down his face with a groan.

Roxanne swallows and drags herself away from the mystery of Minion possibly going somewhere with Wayne. Also drags herself away from her slight irritation at not being able to ask if Minion remembered a first name for this 'Agent Allbright.' This is Megamind's past and if he needed to stop, he needed to stop.

It's just that she has to wonder now if it might also be her past, too, a little bit. Somehow. Her parents met because of her father's work; he works with Roxanne's uncle. Allbright is her mother's maiden name. It's just a heck of a coincidence, is all.

On the bright side, she thinks, forcing herself to lay this aside mentally for now because it really does seem like they've gone as far as they safely can for one night, maybe I won't have to call that Tribeck asshole after all.

Quietly, she tells Megamind again, "It seriously is okay if you can't remember everything perfectly. This sounds like it was an incredibly difficult time—anyone would have trouble."

"I'm not anyone," he snarls, slapping his hand on the table and making her flinch. "I'M NOT anyone! And the one thing I do perfectly, every fucking time, is remember. Whether I want to or not. It is not okay."

"Hey. Hey—no." She wraps her hand over his despite her pounding heart. "Look at me?" When he does, she says, "You're not okay. But I'm not just saying this to be nice. Having trouble remembering something so stressful seems like it really would probably be pretty normal. Even for you. Even for what you are. Especially when someone like Machiavillain was involved."

His eyes narrow. He glares down at their joined hands. "He helped me. Trained me. He made me my first set of leathers, he coached me. Let me use his things. He did not need to do that—"

"Megamind—"

"He did not need to do that! He was kind to me," he snaps, wrenching himself away from her. "Leave him alone."

"But—"

"I SAID LEAVE HIM ALONE."

She sinks her teeth into her lip. Nods.

For a minute or so, they sit in silence.

…Interesting, Roxanne thinks. She is ignoring her heart; it'll calm down. Interesting. It does make sense that Megamind might be defensive of his mentor, especially considering the subject matter. But…although she meant what she said about it probably being normal for Megamind to be having trouble with his memory in this case, she isn't happy to hear he can't remember himself asking. Not being able to remember circumstances, small details—that, she could understand. But Megamind has, as far as she knows, a vocal recording of everything he's ever said and that's ever been said to him. If he can't remember something as emotionally harrowing as asking an older villain to travel halfway across the country for him because he couldn't stomach it himself, even for Minion…

It doesn't seem like something Megamind would have asked for lightly, if he could bring himself to ask for it at all. It really seems like the kind of thing he would remember doing, stressful time or not.

Plus, Minion said something about intimidation? Roxanne remembers the stories of Megamind's debut; if he intimidated this organization into giving Minion up, wouldn't he almost have to go in person? To prove he wasn't bluffing, to show he was serious? And if Machiavillain coached him, wouldn't he have pressured his young pupil to take some deep breaths and hit the road? Maybe he would have gone with Megamind, but to agree to go in his stead…

But he was a teacher. Master to an apprentice. A caretaker, possibly, to some extent? So, maybe it was reasonable for him to do that? Roxanne has certainly known teachers over the years who probably would have, had they been in a field that required an apprentice, and had the apprentice been so frantically out of sorts.

Megamind stirs. Slowly, he slides his hand across the table and pushes just the tips of his long fingers against Roxanne's arm.

Startled, she looks over at him.

He shakes his head. What she can see of his expression looks grim.

Trying to choose her words with care, Roxanne says, "Listen. I…should probably ask, because I realize you don't actually know I've been doing this. But I've been doing some very light digging into your…history? With Machiavillain? Is that okay?"

"I don't see why it wouldn't be."

She hesitates, uncertain of how to match that to his vehement leave him alone. "Okay, but…how far can I go? I mean, where do you want me to stop?"

"…Stop?"

"Is there anyone you don't want me looking at? Activities I should stay away from? Years I should skip over, if I end up trying to make some kind of timeline? I don't think I'll need to go that far, but…"

Megamind does finally look at her again at that. "You're offering to hold back? You?"

"It's you. Yes, I'm offering. If anything is off-limits, I want to know."

He blinks—

—and then his sharp features finally smooth a little. "No," he tells her, voice softening. "Dig as deep as you like."

"You're sure?"

"It's you. Yes, I'm sure. And," he taps her again with his fingertips as he drops his gaze, "I will try…not to snap. At you, again. Like that. I'm…"

He exhales. Roxanne watches his throat work for a moment.

"Sorry," he finally says.

Roxanne turns in her chair so she can wrap her fingers around and grip his hand again. "It's been a long few days," she says, "and it's a sensitive subject. I get it."

Megamind shakes his head. "Still," he says. "Still."

She smiles a little. "Thanks. I appreciate you trying. The, um, the slapping of the table…was also very jarring," she admits, with a small, apologetic wince. "Could you maybe also try not to do that, too? For me? Please?"

He nods. He doesn't look happy, but Roxanne nods back, grateful, and gives his hand another little squeeze.

It's tempting to push. To ask what's wrong, to try and talk him down. But Roxanne is beginning to understand the rhythm of Megamind's moods, and if she pushes to comfort him right now, after talking about all this again…it'll only make things worse, she's pretty sure. It'll be a feedback loop like earlier today, and there's no handy excuse to hold him and breathe him back down now they've made it to the hotel.

"We should sleep," she says, patting his hand and then getting to her feet and stretching. Then, when Megamind doesn't move, "I'm going to sleep, anyway."

"I might stay up and work for a while longer."

"That's fine." She yawns, then looks down at him. "You going to be okay?"

He shrugs, sighs. "I will be. I always am."

"You want a hug?"

There, that got something like a smile. Megamind gets to his feet and Roxanne tugs him in.

She feels him exhale. Feels his arms go tighter, just a little, when she doesn't immediately pull away again.

(God, she's missed hugs. None of Roxanne's friends at home are the cuddly type, except for Wayne, and he's the whole city's best friend and busy 24-7. He's also very frequently touched-out; people tend to be awfully casually physical with him. Sometimes the best thing Roxanne can do is give him a place in the city where he knows he won't be grabbed unexpectedly. Megamind is small and wiry but he does give surprisingly good hugs, considering how little practice Roxanne suspects he's had.)

"I meant what I said downstairs, by the way," Roxanne says. She doesn't want to push Megamind into his head but she has to say something. "I'm really happy I know you."

"Madness. Nonsense."

"Tchh. What do I have to do to tell you I like being friends with you, tattoo a Zubat on my ass?"

Megamind finally spluttersnorts into laughter and steps back, shaking his head. "Okay," he says, lips twitching. "Okay, yes, fine."

"Ha! I win." She turns away to dig in her side of the bureau for a pair of socks, then goes and sits down on the side of her bed as Megamind pulls his tablet back into his lap and picks up his stylus. "So, what are you working on?"

"Oh, evil plots, dastardly schemes, the usual."

She pouts at him, and he rolls his eyes and turns the tablet around so she can see. "It's a giant catapult. Inadvisably huge."

"Ooo, that'll be neat! What's it going to throw?"

He grins. "You, if I can pull this off. Locked in a car, possibly, I haven't decided."

"Is the air conditioning on?"

"Please, it's October in Michigan."

"If I'm in a car, I need climate control. It's non-negotiable."

"Ugh, fine. Miss Picky. I'll make a note." He jots down RR intravehicular popsicle in one corner. And then he pauses, and then he scrunches up his nose at her. "…What ARE you doing?"

"I'm tucking my pajama bottoms into my socks so my pajamas don't ride up."

"And you're going to wear socks to bed."

"Oh, you're one of those people," she teases. "Socks to bed! The horror!"

"I would rather die," Megamind declares. "Socks in bed are for naps only."

"So you just let your pajamas bunch up around your knees?"

"I wiggle my legs! Or pull them back down around my ankles with my toes! As is customary!" He shakes his head. "Anyway. I am currently figuring out parts and materials."

"Hmm." She crawls into bed and then pauses, with the covers over her knees and one hand fluffing her drying hair. "Giant trebuchet could be cool, too. Put me in the counterweight, try and get me seasick."

Megamind pauses, blinking, considering this. Catapults are best at short range and he would not want to risk throwing Roxanne too far. But in the counterweight of a trebuchet…

"You could lure Metro Man into the sling and try to throw him into the lake," Roxanne says. "Or try and hit certain skyscrapers. He's dense enough, he'd probably go right through. Oooh, you could figure out a point system! Ten points if you get him through the Sachs building. Fifty if he goes through Metro Tower!"

He scowls and goes back to his materials lists, glaring at them and trying to turn his mind away from this (new and very interesting (NO) entertaining (NO!!!)) possibility and TOTALLY SUCCEEDING. Firmly, he says, "No trebuchet. You're going in the catapult."

Roxanne snorts. "Are you mad because my idea is better?"

"No! What! No! Impossible!"

She nods. "Ah, I see."

"Good."

"You're mad because my idea is more fun."

Megamind huffs and turns his glare on her from over the top of his tablet. He is NOT mad because Roxanne's idea is more fun, he is mad because she is DISTRACTING HIM with NONSENSE IDEAS that are definitely NOT better than his own, HA HA HA ridiculous concept. "I thought you were going to sleep."

Roxanne goes thbbbptptpt and rolls her eyes at him, but she does also lie down. "This isn't over," she warns, as she tugs the covers up.

I never want it to be, Megamind doesn't reply. He sighs, shaking his head at himself. At least if she's lying down, she can't see his little smile. "Do you want the light off?"

"Oh—yeah, that'd be great, would you?"

He grins. "No! Turn it off yourself! Muahahahaaa!" but he's already on his feet and heading over to turn out the light for her, and Roxanne is snickering into her pillow.

"Dork," she yawns, sounding fond. "Good night. Don't stay up too late? Apparently we have surprise plans, tomorrow! Oh, do I still get to sleep in?"

"Yes, you still get to sleep in. Plans aren't until late morning. Good night, Roxanne."

She drifts off to the soft scraping of Megamind's stylus against the screen of his tablet, and after a while the buzz of his phone, and finally the gentle opening and closing of the balcony door. That'll be Minion again, she thinks, vague and distant. Have to plan…logistics, contingencies…always look after 'your' city, ha…

She's out by the time Megamind quietly steps back inside.

Chapter Text

It's dark when Roxanne jumps awake again a few short hours later. For a moment, she isn't sure what's happening. She knows where she is; she has no disorientation, she's just—something—a noise—?

Behind her, Megamind's voice sounds again, inarticulate but sharp with distress.

Roxanne's covers fall around her waist as she pushes herself up to sitting and looks over at him.

When Megamind went to bed, he drew the curtains over the windows, but he left their hotel room's glass-paned door uncovered. The moonlight is white where it falls across his covers and indigo in the shadows of his legs pulling to his chest as he shoves vaguely at the other pillow on his bed, hissing between his teeth. He's on his side, facing away from her.

Roxanne swallows. "Megamind," she says, low. "Hey."

No response.

He mentioned in Denver that sleeping on his side could be an issue for him. And the time he came over and fell asleep on her couch—didn't he say something about trying to sleep earlier that evening, but he rolled over and had nightmares? At the time, Roxanne hadn't had any context for that, hadn't really registered that there might be a connection, and in Denver she had been shocked and reeling and worrying about the undertow, but now…with a shunt coming out of his head, with where he showed her it was, he wouldn't have been able to lie on his back very well, would he? He would have been forced onto his side while it was in.

For a moment, she bites her lip, wondering if she should try harder to wake him or leave him be, but then Megamind makes a noise that sounds a little too close to "No—" and that takes care of that decision. Roxanne can't stand any more of that. She pushes her covers away and stands up.

What she wants to do is just reach out and shake him awake, but this is Megamind. If she touches him when he's like this, is he likely to lash out? She's pretty sure he's going to wake up fighting.

Heart in her mouth, she goes to the end of his bed and leans forward to take him by the ankle, instead of his arm. "Hey," she says again, jiggling his foot under the covers. "Megamind. Megamind. Wake up," and she jiggles harder—

—Megamind lets out a yelp like a sharp, birdlike chirp and bucks his legs straight out, and Roxanne swears and stumbles back and bruises her hip on the edge of the little table as her companion flails upright in the middle of his bed.

Megamind stares around himself at the room. The balcony door on his right with the moon outside on the mountains, Roxanne's bed on his other side with its sheet and blanket thrown back in the silvery light.

And Roxanne in the shadows at the foot of his bed, standing in her pajamas with her hands up, palms out, exclaiming in a stage whisper, "It's me! It's just me. You awake?"

…Ah.

He groans and slumps forward, drags both hands down his face. "Mmmgnhthlgh. I'm…yes. Awake. Was I yelling?"

"A little." A pause. "You want some water?"

At his nod, she plucks the two little foam coffee cups in their wrappers off the top of their bureau and vanishes into the bathroom, already rustling them free of their plastic.

Fuck. Okay. Well, this is humiliating. He'll spend his whole vacation mortified, at this rate.

He doesn't have much time to dwell on it though, because Roxanne is back in the next moment with both cups full of cool tap water, one of which she hands to him. The warmth of her skin against his fingers when he accepts his cup sends a shock up his arm and grounds him somewhat.

She hovers for a moment, then sits down on the edge of her own mattress, facing him. "You okay?"

Sipping his water, he shakes his head.

"Was I on my side?" he rasps a moment later. He already knows what the answer will be, he's pretty sure. He hopes.

He hopes he was on his side, because if he's started having stress dreams just in general again, he's going to have a hell of a time not just fucking throwing himself off the fucking balcony in search of some fucking rest. Thankfully this turns out not to be an issue though, because:

"Yeah," Roxanne says, "you must've rolled over."

He sighs. Rubs the fingertips of his free hand into the corner of his eye. "I should have warned you about this."

"No," she says immediately, "no, it's okay. You kind of already did, yesterday, I'm not surprised or anything. This was what you meant, about having trouble?"

He nods.

"I'm glad lying on your back isn't also super fraught," she offers. "That's good."

"Ha. Yes, well," he mumbles into his cup, pausing as he goes for another drink, "I'll take the operating table again over a seventeen-month migraine any day of the week."

Then he drains the cup and sets it on the nightstand between the two beds. "My thanks for waking me up. With luck," he says as he scoots down under the covers and shoves his pillow back into position behind his neck, "you won't need to do it again."

"…Right," Roxanne says, after a pause. "Um. Yeah, fingers crossed. Good night," and the last thing Megamind hears before sleep swells over him and drags him out to sea is the soft rustling of Roxanne slowly getting back into bed—

"—nnnfuUCK," he gasps, eyes flying open, heart loud in his ears and breath hard in his lungs. He's up on one elbow, panting and shivering. His blankets are gone; he must have kicked them away.

And oh, wonderful. There's Roxanne again, once again at the foot of his bed, gazing at him with big tired eyes. Megamind pauses in reaching for his blankets to pull them back up.

Sorry, he wants to say, and she probably would even let him, but that's…not…he can't manage that. Right now.

He just sighs, and shrugs at her, and accepts the cup she brings him with his heart ripping itself into helpless little pieces in his chest. She should not need to do these things for him. Wake him from his nightmares, bring him water. Disgusting. Stupid. He should at least get his own goddamned drink.

"If it happens again," he says, bitter, no preamble, "you may as well go downstairs and ask for another room, because it's going to keep happening."

"I'm not doing that," Roxanne replies.

"Earplugs, then—"

"No. Go to sleep. We'll figure it out if you wake up again."

Megamind lies back down and closes his eyes, his mind a hot gray haze of angry shame—

—and Roxanne groans awake again barely half an hour later.

The white moonlight has moved down their beds to splash across the floor now. Her companion is, once again, on his side hissing and twitching. Mumbling, muttering. Tears in his voice, this time.

Roxanne fills their water cups first, going mostly by feel and the tone of the rising liquid. Blinking down at the sink in the dark as she waits for the sound of a cup nearly full, trying not to feel too cranky—it's not like he's been waking her up on purpose—and trying to decide whether the solution she's wondering about might be helpful or if it might send him into another panic attack like yesterday's.

Honestly, she probably could just get another room. She could at least ask. And she could probably ask about earplugs, as well. Probably those would be normal courses of action to take, at this point. If she were several years younger, she could probably even get her blanket and her pillows and arrange a makeshift and uncomfortable bed for herself in the bathtub.

But.

Megamind is her friend, and as she quietly noted to herself last night in Denver, at this point he really is turning out to be one of her best. However unexpectedly. He wasn't yet, when she asked him on this trip months ago, but between coming over for her dress fittings and hanging out so often the past few months, and then Saturday and yesterday and today…he's been so wonderful, even with his prickly moods. And he was already a friend when she asked him. He was, sort of, even then.

She doesn't WANT to leave him to be consumed by his demons for the rest of the night, tossing and turning. His demons aren't her lookout, but…she could help, couldn't she? Would it be weird to try?

At this stage of her life, Roxanne is usually pretty good at figuring out weird, but this isn't a situation she's run into before or really even read much about. She's met a few people over the years who might have been better able to say whether what she's considering would be helpful or pointless, but Roxanne herself has been fortunate enough not to have very much experience with post-traumatic stress issues. Not to this extent.

Her heart sways in her chest like a counterweight against her spinning, sleepy thoughts. This feels dangerous. Not because she's afraid of Megamind, but because she likes what they have right now, and her idea is…a deviation from what they have. She already decided she wants to try for more friendly contact, but this would probably be a significant deviation, by most standards. 

…wait, is that a thing? significant deviation…? that's a thing, right? in science?

Megamind would know.

Still, Roxanne knows how she sleeps best, which is with someone else in her bed, and she knows why Megamind is struggling and she thinks she might be able to help. Walking out of the bathroom with a cup in each hand, no longer certain which cup is hers and which is his, unable to really care either way, she thinks…this might be okay? She told Megamind he could stay, the time he needed to be in her space and away from Evil Lair to sleep. This isn't so different from that, is it? Is it?

…Okay, yes, it really really is, BUT, she finally thinks, this is also what she would at least offer to any other close friend, if they were traveling with her and struggling this way. She's pretty sure. She really is pretty sure. So. Probably it's okay. Good.

She wakes Megamind as she has the last couple of times, by shaking his foot. She goes and hands him his water in the silence of the night. She says nothing about the way he can't seem to look at her, says nothing about the bitter twist of his mouth. Says nothing about the 'operating table' bombshell he dropped earlier without appearing to realize what it was he was telling her. She just sits down on the edge of her own bed with her feet on the cool, worn carpet between hers and Megamind's, and waits.

"I had an idea," she quietly says when he lowers his cup. He's slouched in his bed with the top of his pajamas partly open and falling lopsided off one shoulder; as Roxanne speaks, he reaches up and jerks his shirt back into place, fastens the button with sharp, trembling fingers. Flicks the back of his collar up against his neck in a gesture she's seen from him a hundred times on plot days. "You've been in different beds for a couple nights now. I'm betting you keep rolling over because of all these different mattresses."

"Maybe."

"So it's going to keep happening," she continues, "like you said. You might need to be on your side, maybe you're getting stiff on your back."

His lip curls.

"But. Um. I had an idea."

"You've said."

She swallows hard, then nods. And then she sets her own cup down on the nightstand and gets to her feet. "Okay, Mister Grumpy. Scoot over."

When the sun rises…

The clouds greet the sunlight long before anything else. Stars fade out overhead as the midnight sky begins to ease itself towards daytime blue, and the clouds between earth and sky catch the reaching sun's distant rays and scatter the light rose-orange across themselves. They drift slowly over the shadowy mountains where night still clings under the trees in the valleys, until finally the clouds' orange shifts to gold and their pink sighs away onto the mountaintops to begin the usual slow journey down into the forests below.

Weak, early frost glitters between the stones and the leaves of small plants. Mist curls off the surface of the water in the big pond in front of the Retreat on Charleston Peak, as well as between the lower mountains and under the sleeping trees.

But the sun rises and sends pale light in. The light crawls itself golden down the mountains and into windows and finally up over the wall of a hotel room and down across the beds. It spills over Roxanne's sheet and blanket, still tossed aside from where she stood up the last time. Her mattress is cold and empty in the light.

But the covers of Megamind's bed drape soft and heavy over two bodies curled together, breathing slowly, warm. Megamind is pressed forward against a couple of spare pillows at his chest, half-crushed between them and the heavy, safe weight of Roxanne behind him. Her arm is under his neck; she has her elbow bent so she can hide her chilly fingers under the pillow they're sharing. Cradling his head. Megamind's arm is up as well, his own long fingers curled loosely into the spaces between hers.

He is peacefully asleep. Roxanne's freckled, human-warm cheek is resting on the place where his memories would otherwise creep in and strangle him.

Outside, the sky, and the day creeping up over the ground. Inside, shadows, broken by the rising light.

When Megamind wakes, it is because Roxanne has made a soft sound of complaint and moved her head to nuzzle her face down between his neck and his pillow instead and hide from the sunlight. It actually takes him a moment to place what's happening, because oh, he's heavy, and so warm that he thinks at first he must be tucked up in the reef at home. But his lungs are engaged and his gills are sealed, and he can feel gravity, so…

…Ah.

"Lie down on your side," Roxanne said, climbing into his bed and shocking him so badly he forgot all his embarrassment. "Here, c'mere. Lie down. I think this'll help. Like in the ship. Okay? Is this okay?"

She handed him the pillows from her bed to hold and keep himself from being shoved onto his stomach, and then she curled up right against his back and snuggled forward to put her cheek on his skin over the little hole in his skull. She rested her head there, a good weight against his own, and she cuddled in and put one arm over him and his pillows as she pushed her other arm under his neck…and when she finally stopped moving and murmured again, this time low and sleepy just behind his ear, "'S this okay?" Megamind had very nearly burst right into confused tears, just at the Everything All of it. He was warm and heavy and touching and Roxanne was wrapped around him like a blanket, holding him, squeezing him between his pillows and her whole body. Sounding as though this was nothing.

Tongue-tied, all he could do was nod.

"Good," Roxanne sighed, and he felt her relax and sag softly against him, "try to sleep. Mkay? Try to sleep…"

And she was gone. Asleep in Megamind's bed, holding him in her arms, asleep and trusting him not just in her room but actually fully in bed with her, and Megamind was left staring through his tears at the silverdark mountaintops outside with a lump in his throat so big it was physically painful.

Slowly, he moved his arm up to touch Roxanne's hand, and—hesitated—and slipped his fingertips between hers and curled his touch into her palm—he dared—

And she sighed, and hummed, and relaxed even further around him as he finally broke silently down into overwhelmed tears in her arms. Warm and held and so desperately in love that he thought he might die of it.

He had sworn to himself that he would not sleep. That he would stay awake and take this into his bones, that he would somehow figure out how to create a sense-memory of this to return to again in the future…but. He was tired. He was so tired. And for once, for once he was safe…and so he slept. Obviously. He must have slept, because he just woke up—and for the first time on his side without panicking in probably thirty years.

Roxanne mumbles something behind him and burrows closer, this time accidentally pushing his pajamas aside and nuzzling past the wide nerve cluster in the back of his hypersensitive neck, and whoa-ho-HO THAT cannot be allowed to happen again no matter how lovely this is. Megamind may be a leech but he isn't a monster.

He steels himself and pulls himself to sit up with a feeling like he is ripping in half as he moves. Chilly air hits his empty skin and the selfish thing inside him screeches awake wailing and hugging itself, bereaved, but—no. No no. He can do this. It's too bright in here. It is too bright for Roxanne and Megamind can fix that and see if it's better. Besides, he should get up anyway. He should get up. He doesn't need to sleep anymore. Staying in bed with Roxanne out of anything but vital necessity feels—it feels like—

(it feels like vital necessity. it really does. what the hell.)

So he drags himself out of bed and onto his feet, fighting back more stupid-stupid-dumb-pointless unreasonable goddamned tears with every inch that he moves, and he staggers over to the balcony door and pulls the blackout curtain across the dawn. The room plunges back into twilight shadows.

Behind him, Roxanne lifts her head…

"Hmmb? Oh. Oh 's waybetter. Timezit?"

He tells her. He does not need to check the clock behind her; it's off by two minutes anyway.

She makes a sound of disgust and wrinkles her nose. "Terrible hour. C'mon back in here n' actually sleep in for once."

…and Megamind is weak.

He crawls back into bed with Roxanne. He was invited. It's fine.

"Mm. Can we roll over? Other side? Think you'll be okay?"

"Only one way to find out," he says, and Roxanne flops onto her other side.

As Megamind is clambering awkwardly over her, trying not to touch more than is necessary but sort of failing because he was already under the covers when she asked and she is much wider than he is, she does turn her head and squint blearily up at him looming over her. Megamind glances down and their eyes lock, and for one awful moment he thinks she'll wake up and come to her senses. But no, all that happens is she yawns and a hot burst of morning breath hits him in the face, and he reels, and Roxanne says, "Ah yes, only one way to find out, testing hypothesis…es. Hypothesees. Oh, is significant deviation a thing?"

Lying down in front of her and pulling the pillows back into position, Megamind blinks. "Is…what?"

"I thought last night. It feels like a thing but also not a thing. Is it? Significant deviation?"

She's cuddling back down behind him as if he never got up at all and Megamind can barely think over the roaring sweet warmth of her.

"It can be," he says as he tugs his collar up into place, despite this. "But not on its own. It depends. It needs to be defined. I think—ah, I think maybe you are thinking of standard deviation? And significant figures?"

"Oh right! Oop—sorry," when he flinches at how loud that was next to his ear, "right. Okay! Yay, mystery solved, hooray. I knew you'd know," she adds, sounding very pleased, "you're so smart. Mmm. Hmmz'this still okay?"

I want to grind myself into a powder and inject myself into a flan and put that flan onto a plate and fucking feed myself to you "Oh, yes," he says lightly, doing his best not to tremble as she puts her arm over him again and hugs him into his pillows, "yes, this is fine."

"You sure?"

every hour of every day for the rest of my life "Mm-hm. Very sure. Yes. I am…sorry," he adds, very very glad that it is dark and his back is to her and she can't see his face. He has lost all control over his expression; oh god this is so nice, "for the trouble."

"Pfff. It's okay." She yawns again, then curls closer. Puts her cheek on his head again, on the other side this time, pressing his shunt site down against their pillow. "It's not like it was on purpose."

"I suspect your mother would disagree."

"Heh. She'd probably say you were rolling on your side and throwing yourself into horrific nightmares for attention."

She's sleepy, but there's still a lot of scorn in her voice. It warms him more than he would have expected; the last time he was accused of doing something to get attention, his wrist was broken.

"I could also be faking," he points out.

But Roxanne snorts. "Faking being that miserable? Nobody does that."

"Machiavillain would have," he says without thinking—

—and then he sort of startles at himself. He blinks into the shadows.

"You're not Machiavillain," Roxanne says. She's beginning to sleep-slur around the edges of her words, and now she yawns again. "He might've trained you to act like a villain, but he couldn't make you an asshole. You've got too much love in you for that."

Megamind is still so thrown by his own reaction—he has spent so many years refusing to speak of Machiavillain even to Minion, and now to blurt that out? and to sound so bitter?—that he doesn't even pick up on trained to act like and too much love as things that he should probably object to until Roxanne is already sighing and wiggling down comfortably against him, hugging him more firmly to her chest and nodding gently against his head. Settling in.

"Anyway," she's saying, "'m goin' back to sleep. You gonna be okay?"

"Mmhm," he replies, pitching it vaguely affirmative, and it isn't until after he feels her breathing smooth out that he realizes—

Once again. Once again, she let him say he was sorry. She let him say it, seemed to accept that he meant it…and then she turned it gently aside.

She shifts slightly behind him one last time as she drops off, and Megamind slams out of his head and into his body so hard it leaves him dizzy.

He has not been held this way since he was a child. It is no less overwhelming for being on his other side now, nor for being more or less the same way she was holding him for the last few hours.

I love you, he thinks, but he doesn't dare say it aloud. Roxanne is still far too close to waking for him to allow himself the risk.

(That's not new, of course. Megamind is never allowed to say it; he's used to that. To love at all is a luxury he can't afford, but he knows he cannot help himself any more than he could cut his own heart out, so to hell with what he can afford; he'll drown in the debt of it and love silently.)

(Still, it would be nice.)

Maybe…oh, but maybe today will not be the only time he does this? Maybe Roxanne will hold him again tonight? Maybe?

It turns out Megamind's ability to hope for such things has not, he finds, actually been beaten all the way to death yet. That's surprising. His despair is a roaring void inside him but Megamind is physically in Roxanne's arms right now; apparently that counts for a lot. His cold heart is warming in his chest as his hope drags herself out of her cage and struggles back into her boxing gloves and bloody mouthguard.

Shame I can't send a picture of us right now to the useless meathead, he thinks out of nowhere, grinning in spite of himself. He'd have a fit.

…God.

He really, really hopes Wayne is actually taking some time off. Hopefully that's why he was with Minion last night. Megamind was downplaying the depth of his concern to Roxanne yesterday, but Metro Man is not doing well and hasn't been for some time now. There have been talks—well, still just quiet chatter, but it hasn't stopped—about declaring a local holiday in his honor, and Metro Man has been avoiding those conversations to the absolute best of his ability. Megamind cornered him about it last year and Metro Man nearly shouted at him to drop it.

He had later delivered a handwritten apology via Minion like the ridiculous Boy Scout he is. But. The damage was done. He had shown his hand, and Megamind started paying closer attention.

There must be a way to get him SOME help without upsetting their whole dynamic. There must be. Megamind keeps coming back to the idea he had yesterday for hero-bots. Brawnbots? That could be funny. If he makes them look different enough from his own…

There's no reason he couldn't. It's not like anyone can stop him. And Metro Man would be forever expecting them to betray him! Muahahaha.

And he'll need to make Metro Man a pair of anti-hearing aids. Getting him to actually wear them might be a whole plot all on its own, but if the super-hearing is bad enough that Wayne is mentioning it in casual conversation, then something needs to be done. So. Devices to dampen sound at a distance, extra pairs of helping hands, and—shifts? Maybe? Could Megamind blackmail his nemesis into committing to some kind of schedule?

Of course this would mean Megamind would also have to commit to some kind of schedule. That rankles. But he wouldn't have to do so publicly, would he? Of course not. He could agree on something with Wayne, something manageable, and then things would be…okay. Maybe.

Privately, quietly in his own mind, Megamind has to admit it might even be nice. He's still pretty young for his species but he's definitely not half as young as he used to be. He's tired, too. This vacation is throwing that into sharp relief.

He sighs, and behind him, Roxanne hums. She curls her legs forward, tangles them with his. It isn't even remotely sexual but Megamind is just singing inside, wrapped up in warmth and in love and Roxanne is his friend and Megamind is her friend too and this is just, this is just, this is all just way more than he ever dreamed he would ever get to do. To lie peacefully in bed with Roxanne at his back holding him steady.

Part of him is, of course, screaming that he should be mortified. Disgusted with himself. Once again, just like yesterday and last night, just like the day before, this is not something he should ever need anyone to do for him. He should not ever enjoy…this, this…contact. This comfort. This debasement. He is a supervillain, has been a supervillain since he was old enough to claim the title. The world will never allow him to be anything else; it is his destiny, for evil's sake! What is he thinking? Schedules? Brawnbots? His goal is to claim Metro, to destroy his nemesis and rule his city with a leather fist!

It's just…

He's having fun.

It's just that he has been having so much fun with the game as it is. He could destroy Metro Man, but it really is better for the city if the two of them just stay in their respective lanes. Metro Man keeps order as superhero, Megamind keeps order as Overlord. It works.

Because Evil isn't about sowing discordant chaos. Chaos is a solid catalyst for change, but it's unsustainable. True evil—true capital-e Evil—is about order. Order where order should not be. Where the law breaks down and the system fails, still there is order, and it is what Megamind dictates, and he is efficient and effective and hundreds of thousands of people survive only by Megamind's rules. That is Evil. But his city is his, and his city is safe.

…Okay, granted, a significant chunk of his city is also mounted on improbably huge rockets aimed at the moon, with a hard-light dome set to go up at liftoff to maintain an atmosphere—but that's just for funsies. Not really even worth mentioning in serious company. Besides, Megamind still has some testing to do and a few more coats of paint to take care of before it's really ready.

Regardless. He should not need to be cuddled and held to sleep soundly. It is humiliating. He should feel humiliated. He should hate this. And he should be furious with Roxanne for ever daring to think he might possibly tolerate such an overstep! To share his bed? The absolute gall. The disrespect. He should be LIVID, he should—he—what he SHOULD do is roll over and take what he wants and leave Roxanne crying and set this old hotel on fire, and then he should storm back to Metro, the city he should not have left in the first place, and take it over in Metro Man's absence. It is the perfect time. There's nothing stopping him and it would be amazing for his career. The next step up on the rung of the ladder of villainy. It is the perfect plan and it would be so easy.

It turns his stomach.

He shrinks back against Roxanne, queasy and wanting to hold her. But not wanting to wake her. In lieu of this, he slowly shifts his arm on the pillows he's holding until it is nestled alongside her arm as well, with their hands together.

What he should do is monstrous. He couldn't. He never could do anything like that, no matter how his mentor tried to coach him away from his scruples. Rape, arson, betrayal—he couldn't. This friendship he is building with Roxanne is so beautiful.

And. He doesn't want to.

You have too much love in you, she said, and she was not wrong. Megamind would rather die. And for her to lie here, holding him…

You aren't Machiavillain. And, yes: that really is sort of his whole problem, isn't it?

Maybe he should feel humiliated—he is searching for embarrassment and coming up empty; he feels as though he is probing with his tongue in the gap of a lost tooth—but the devil take him: all he can feel right now is loved. Roxanne's trust in him is quite possibly the greatest gift Megamind has ever received. He is basking in it.

Lying there, on his side in the darkened hotel room with the sun rising outside and his thoughts twisting inside, his mind humming through memories and problems and new knowledge from Minion and his dynamic with Metro Man and this trip so far and RoxanneRoxanneRoxanne, Megamind frowns. And for the first time in more than two decades, his hope climbs back into the ring and raises her fists to the sound of the bell, and he thinks…

…Maybe it's not about 'should?'

Chapter Text

When Roxanne wakes up again a couple hours later, Megamind is perched on one of the chairs by the curtained window, staring at his tablet with laser focus and tap-tapping away, his stylus tucked behind his ear. Roxanne's old GameBoy is on the table next to him, and it…appears to be…

Huh.

She sits up with a yawn and rubs her eyes, runs a hand through her hair, then blinks over at him. "Is that thing…charging? In the wall socket?"

"Indeed it is!"

"How?" The old handheld system runs on AA batteries. At least as far as Roxanne has ever known.

Megamind grins, sharp and cheerful. "I wondered if I could upgrade the power supply. It should last much longer, now! At least, after it is finished charging up."

Roxanne is still trying to formulate a response to this when he finally actually looks up and lowers his tablet to his knees, then nets his fingers and stretches his arms over his head until something pops (he has to tilt his head forward in order to fully extend both arms straight up. The way his shoulders are rotated makes Roxanne wince). "Ahhh. So!" Jiggling his arms at his sides to make the loose sleeves of his sweater fall back down from where they had bunched around his upper arms when he stretched. "Are you more awake? Ready to greet the day? Have breakfast?"

"I think so," she says, politely refraining from mentioning the apparent joys of being made entirely of rubber bands and silly putty. "How long have you been up?"

"I got out of bed fifty-three minutes ago." His face goes a little bit pink. "I…wasn't falling asleep. It seemed odd to stay."

"Aw, ha ha. Yeah, that's fair." She gets to her feet and stretches as well, then heads for the bureau. "Well, let me get dressed. Have you eaten?"

"I have not."

Rifling through her clothes, pulling pieces and draping them over her arm to take into the bathroom with her, she makes a sound of fond exasperation. "For heaven's sake, you're allowed to go get food if you're hungry! You don't have to be ten feet away from me the whole time!"

"Oh—? Oh. I can—do that, separately, if—"

Oops, she didn't mean to make him go stammery and wide-eyed. Shaking her head, she waves at him. "No, it's fine. You can wait for me if you want to, I don't mind! I just don't want to hold you back, okay? That's all. Yes?"

Eyes still wide, but no longer looking quite as alarmed, he nods. Roxanne sends him a smile, which he returns, a trifle hesitantly.

"Also, I love your sweater." She's never thought of Megamind as someone who would be caught dead in this sort of thing, but he's wearing an oversized, button-down cardigan with unexpectedly detailed knitted skulls over a ragged black shirt of some kind, its buttons open down his chest to his solar plexus over fine mesh and—another surprise—no high collar. He is wearing it very well. "The skulls are super cool."

"Ahaha," he says. "Yes, this was an entertaining find."

Laughing quietly, Roxanne retreats into the bathroom with her clothes to get changed and ready herself for the day.

Breakfast is…awkward.

Doubly so considering dinner last night felt so easy. But at dinner they hadn't yet spent the night in bed together, wrapped around each other, and Roxanne was not remembering—belatedly—that she had in fact invited Megamind back to bed with her after he got up, AND she had been the one to suggest the shared sleeping arrangement in the first place.

(The humiliation and misery in his face had entirely vanished at her "scoot over," to be replaced with raw shock. "You—what?" he stammered. "What—you're—"

"Scoot over," she said again. She could feel her eyes burning with sleepiness, could feel the stubborn tuft of her cowlick wobbling on the back of her head every time she moved. She wanted to be asleep so badly. "Look, the way I see it, if you're going to roll on your side anyway," rubbing her fingers into the corner of her eye, "then you might as well start off there, right? And if I'm behind you…I bet I can maybe, kind of, hug onto you and put my head against where your shunt was? And then maybe that'll be different enough that it won't…drag-drag you down," she yawned, "Ye Olde Horrible Memory Lane, or whatever."

Megamind was staring up at her. "Hug," he echoed. "Onto me?"

"If you're okay trying it, I'm okay trying it."

At his mute shrug, she said, "Cool. Lie down on your side. Oh, here, but put these in front of you," retrieving the pillows from her bed and handing them to him. "I'll probably flop forward; I don't wanna strain your neck."

So Megamind had lain down on his side, slowly, and pulled the extra pillows in against his chest and stomach. And Roxanne settled in behind him and wrapped one arm over his funny skinny body and her other arm under his long neck, and rested her cheek more or less where she remembered him showing her, and…

"How's this?" Quietly, because his ear was so close. "You okay? Is this okay?"

…all of the tension fell out of him. He was so stiff when they were getting settled, almost shaking while she put her arm over him, but Roxanne asked if he was okay and Megamind just went boneless.

Then he nodded. "Yes," he replied, voice rough. "Yes, this is…okay."

"You sure?"

More nodding under her cheek.

"Cool, yay. Try to sleep. G'night," and that was about the last thing Roxanne remembered until the rising sun poked her in the eyelids and Megamind got up to fix it for her.)

Their coffee arrives and Megamind promptly abuses his with sugar, black-gloved fingers tearing open packet after packet. Roxanne with her chin propped on her fist tiredly says, "Do you s'pose if we asked them to stir a bunch of instant Folgers into a mug of hot simple syrup, would that work for you?"

Megamind snorts. "Probably, but it sounds vile."

She yawns. "It does. Hm. Best not, then."

And conversation dies again until their food comes. This place is fancier than Roxanne usually goes for and lacks the ease of a continental breakfast, but at least the breakfast offerings seem to hold a bit more promise than the dinner menu last night did in terms of Megamind's diet.

But there's lots to look at out the window while they wait for their food and Roxanne gets coffee into her system, and Megamind appears to be busy with his phone. This certainly isn't the most awkward she's ever felt.

Finally though, as she's cutting into her omelet, she clears her throat. "Hey, um…"

Megamind glances up, his mouth full of french toast and his cheeks and ears pinker than usual.

"About last night," she begins, and she intends to keep going, but her companion promptly goes ulp! and the food in his mouth goes down his slender neck in a visible lump and she bursts into shocked laughter before she can finish. "Sorry! Sorry. Are you okay? That looked so painful!"

"I am stretchy, it was fine," Megamind says, wide-eyed and blushing. "Um. Yes? You, ah. You were saying?"

"Yeah, I just wanted to…check in. You're sure last night was okay? I REALLY didn't want to make you uncomfortable, I was just half-asleep and I thought…it was all I could think of to do. …Oh?"

He's nodding hard. "Yes. Yes. It was absolutely okay! Very absolutely okay."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

And he does sound very certain, but he also stops short there and sort of twitches, and Roxanne cocks her head. "What's up?"

"Nothing," he quickly says. Scrunching his face, shaking his head, waving as if to brush something aside. "Not important, not worth mentioning. It was very okay, and I thank you."

It's a little too perfect a set of dismissive gestures. Roxanne gently bonks her toe into his shin under the table and he jumps, then turns even pinker. She sends him a tell me, you bullshitter face.

"It was just, I—actually, I thought, earlier," fork tap-tap-tapping his plate and his shoulders halfway to his ears, "I wondered if maybe you would—you—would mind it again." He shakes his head, cants it sideways as he says, "I know it wasn't a preferred choice, but…strange beds. But I…that was okay. I slept well. So I wondered. That was all."

Roxanne releases a relieved breath. "Oh, good! Okay, then—"

"But if there are any rooms still available here I will of course cover the cost of another one if you would rather do that," he blurts. He's still fiddling with his fork. "A new room for you, or I can move; it's—I know it wasn't anyth—"

"No."

He stops. Looks at her.

"I don't want a different room, I don't want to put you in a different room. We'll just share. I actually slept great."

Megamind lights up and flashes her a brilliant smile under grateful, sparkling green eyes, then busies himself with his French toast again. Roxanne digs into her omelet, feeling a lot better for having got that out of the way.

They eat for a minute or so in a silence that is now more companionable than awkward—for Roxanne, at least. She's focused on breakfast, on the view outside, thinking about nothing in particular except how it'll be so nice to have company in bed again for a couple days at least. Which means she doesn't see the way Megamind pauses and blinks at a passing thought. She doesn't see how his face falls and his body pulls tense, doesn't see his breathing change as he struggles against himself—

Megamind suddenly blurts, "But you need to know," and she jumps.

"Huh? Know what?"

He is no longer sparkling. He looks as though he wants to bite through his tongue.

"It's—I was—conflicted. Earlier. This morning, while I was thinking. After you went back to sleep."

"Oh?"

He flushes again. Drags his fork through his syrup—the hotel was able to find him proper maple syrup, he confirmed earlier with their server—tracing fading lines in the sugar like a very wet zen garden.

"You have likely already noted I am somewhat unaccustomed to friendly contact," he says, flat. "It was nice. And I…thought, you know, I should be…angry. Angry, embarrassed. I thought of what I should do, as," he swallows, "as a supervillain."

"Ah." Roxanne can sort of guess the shape of where this is going. Frankly she's surprised he said anything; it's clear from the way he's acting, he doesn't want to. So, then why…?

He huffs a breath and nods, looking at his plate. His shoulders are up and very stiff, his mouth is tight and unhappy. "It was, in a word, monstrous. I won't bother you with details—I didn't think of very many details—but. If we're going to do that again, you—need to know. You need to know."

Roxanne starts to gear herself up to say something reassuring, she isn't entirely sure what, but—

To her surprise, Megamind keeps going. "And, but then I did also think, maybe 'should' is the wrong word?"

—she cocks her head.

"I thought maybe—maybe it isn't—maybe what I was thinking of wasn't what I should do. It's—it was, maybe, what—he—would do? Or, or would have wanted me to do; I don't actually know if he—would. He didn't like contact. But."

He takes a breath and lifts his gaze to meet hers again. He looks almost completely miserable—the lines around his mouth are still very deep—but his eyes are wide with a kind of wary, flinching uncertainty that tugs on her.

"It seems like such a nitty pick," he says. "And maybe I was just…wishing. But it—it does make sense? I think?"

"It does!" she exclaims. She keeps her tone bright and her brows up, and Megamind blinks and his shoulders come down just a bit. "And I don't think you were just wishing," she adds, because oh, for heaven's sake. He was trying to warn her, but was he also maybe trying to defend himself? I need you to know, I thought I should hurt you; I need you to know, I didn't want to, I didn't want to.

So: "You would never hurt me, I know that," she tells him. "Thinking of something monstrous doesn't make you a monster."

The way his shoulders finally fully drop and his tense, unhappy expression smooths is so awful.

She smiles and bumps his leg again under the table. "It's okay," she says. "I'm not surprised you were a little conflicted and thinking about villainy. I'm not bothered."

He slumps. Nods. Breathes.

"And it is interesting," she continues. She takes another bite of egg and mushroom, chews contemplatively. "You know…I wonder how much of your 'feeling the walls' back home is because you're maybe thinking of what he would do, and assuming it's what you should be doing…but it's not what you would do."

Megamind slowly goes back to his French toast. He has the air of a man who has just been swept off the gallows by a masked stranger on horseback; Roxanne isn't surprised that it takes him a few moments to respond. Finally he replies, "I don't know. I usually don't think of him at all. Truly. All of that is far behind me; I think I have thought about this more in the last three days than in the last three years."

"Even subconsciously, though," she says. "I mean, I wonder if sometimes you're…trapped in what he taught you? Instead of being able to comfortably do your job the way you want? This is how to be a villain, this is how to be Overlord, this is what I have to do, and then you get stuck and upset with it."

"Huh."

"Like how I was yesterday, with taking a nap. It never would have occurred to me that I could do something like that, right then. It just wasn't the way I was raised; I never questioned it."

She keeps going on her breakfast while Megamind frowns into the middle distance, gently tapping his fork on his plate.

The hotel's dining area is high-ceilinged and wide-windowed, all knotty pine and stone, almost a scaled-up version of the living room in the house they stayed at on the lake a couple days prior. Outside the windows, bird feeders hang from hooks every ten feet or so. Finches and sparrows and warblers flit hither and yon around them, feeding and bluffing at each other. Roxanne recognizes a few of them—house finch, chickadee, house sparrow, song sparrow, titmouse—but most of them are unfamiliar to her. There's something she thinks at first is a bluebird, but it's missing the ruddy chest her aunt pointed out to her years ago. This one is blue all over. It's pretty.

"Maybe," Megamind finally allows. Roxanne re-focuses on him.

She hesitates, then thinks fuck it. "Look," she says, "please don't be offended. But…I think Machiavillain did you a huge disservice, only teaching you to do things the same way he did them. You shine brightest when you go your own way! I can tell. And if someday you want to do something in a totally different way from what he would have done," she adds, "or even something totally different entirely! I bet you'll be amazing at it. Even if it's hard for you to believe it's what you should do. You have good instincts," she says. "I wish you trusted yourself more."

His ears heat. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Miss Ritchi," he purrs, to hide this.

Roxanne snorts and rolls her eyes. "I'm serious!"

"Oh? And what if what I want to do is hero work?"

And—

He said it to be funny. He said it as a 'gotcha.' To tease, to lighten the mood in his relief at somehow not having Roxanne's coffee dumped over his head before she stormed away to the front desk to demand another room after all. Here is a silly joke! Ha ha, career supervillain suggesting he turn around and do everything he's always claimed to scorn! Ha ha ho ho, it is to laugh.

But Roxanne blinks and then does a sort of brows-up-lips-down head bob that he knows means surprised affirmative, and says, "Wow. Yeah, actually, you'd be incredible as a hero."

"Ha! And I—wait. What? I would—what? No! You take that back!"

"I will not take it back; I think you could do it! I think you'd be great."

"That is not funny."

"I am not laughing."

"All right, on what basis," he says, folding his arms over his chest and flopping back in his chair. "Why would you ever think that might be something I could POSSIBLY be interested in."

She sends him a very frank look. "Seriously?"

He waves a hand at the space between them and cocks an eyebrow at her, challenging.

Roxanne shrugs. "I'll tell you what I expected to happen yesterday—I expected you to be a big crankypants," ignoring his scowl, "with an emotional hangover and maybe a couple outbursts. I did NOT expect to hear you read Metro Man the riot act on his job, what a hero does and what a hero needs to think about, and be correct on all points." She takes a moment to sip her coffee, STILL irritatingly unflappably unbothered by Megamind's Furious Glare of Impending Doom, and then adds, "I didn't say anything about it at the time, but that was some Twilight Zone stuff. I mean…you were right. About all of it."

Megamind seethes. What he's doing is very definitely seething; it is not anything else. It is NOT.

"I don't know why, I don't know when you started, but you have clearly put a lot of thought into heroism! I am…beginning to see why you went into villainy instead, but—"

"Beginning—!"

"Well it was never actually obvious!" She waves her free hand in exasperation. "I'm sorry, but it wasn't! Oh, you grew up in a prison, oh big whoop. Yeah, that's awful, but villainy? Organized crime, sure, but villainy? Please."

"I was also bullied," he says stiffly.

"So was I! So were a lot of people! Once again: villainy! Megamind! And not just villainy, but SUPERvillainy! That's a lot to turn your back on! So yes, I'm sorry, but finding out how badly you were hurt, and at such a young age, and the bullying, and at one point it sounded like some other kids tried to literally kill you, AND now I'm discovering you were targeted by an incredibly successful older villain who helped you when you needed help…yeah, that does provide a little more clarity than just, hE gReW uP iN a pRiSoN!"

Megamind snorts into a laugh in spite of himself.

"I'm sorry! Nobody goes into villainy in their teens, nobody gets the super designation before they're even twenty! But you and Wayne went for that like there was nothing else!"

"He at least was somewhat manipulated into it," Megamind tells her. "I can perhaps shed some insight there."

"Oh?"

"When I arrived at the Li'l Gifted Sh—School, he had already been handed the role of class disciplinarian. He kept order. Fairly easily, with other students. I was more difficult."

"I imagine you were ridiculously bored," Roxanne says.

Megamind shrugs. "I found ways to occupy myself. Destructively ee-vil ways, ha, but—"

"I mean, yeah, a bored kid is going to be disruptive at best. Destructive wouldn't be surprising even for a human child. I'm just saying."

He sighs. He can see what she's saying, and he does remember a few other troublemakers over the years for whom the metaphorical shoe fitted, and he is extremely nettled but he isn't going to argue anything that would allow her to pull this conversation back into dangerous waters. He is not going there right now. "Regardless," waving this away, "he was given far too much responsibility, far too young, and no guidance beyond follow the rules. And Wayne was never particularly adept at thinking for himself even in other areas, so: follow orders, get rewarded. He didn't start actually paying attention until about halfway through our sophomore year."

Roxanne cocks her head. "What happened then?"

He glances at her. Takes a breath—

—and lets it out again. Shakes his head. His gaze slides away to the window.

"Nothing important," he says.

Roxanne hesitates, uncertain. She glances outside as well, but…there's nothing out of the ordinary she can see. Just a lot of little songbirds, eating little seeds. Darting at each other, scolding.

"He saved my life. That's all that matters." Megamind shrugs. "He did not need to do that, and he did it anyway. And he blamed himself for what happened, I didn't find that out until years later. Said he put the idea in Edwin's head, which, oh ho ho, I very much doubt." He shakes his head, arches a brow. "Wayne could be thoughtless, but he wasn't…well, he could be cruel. But he was usually just going along with everyone else, like I said. He even put a stop to a lot of it after that—made sure I was mostly left alone. Not that he needed to do much," his tone goes bitter, "since by that point I had made it abundantly clear that anyone who fucked with me would face disproportionate retribution. Except, of course, for Wayne's friends—but he kept them off my back, more or less."

It's Roxanne's turn to raise her eyebrows. "Really? He stood up to his friends?"

"More or less, I said," with a thin little smile. "But. He tried."

Their server arrives to clear their places away, then. The plates and silverware clink gently together as he gathers everything up while exchanging a couple small pleasantries with Roxanne about the food and the weather. Megamind is looking out the window again, though he shifts a little to allow the young man to take his plate.

Roxanne peers at him. His face is smooth and his brows are up; he doesn't look upset. But he doesn't seem happy, either. It's a similar quiet, wry energy to what he sometimes carries when he comes to Roxanne's apartment to hang out for a while.

She frowns a little. "You okay?"

"Mm. Yes."

Confused, she looks out into the morning as well. It's a lovely day—not very many clouds, bright sky, high wind blowing the plants over in waves. The bird feeders sway in the breeze and under the regular activity of their visitors.

"Pretty birds," she offers, and Megamind snorts hard.

Thankfully, he does also fully laugh, and it does sound mostly genuine. "They are," he agrees, "yes. Very pretty."

Then he finally glances back over at her and sends her a smile. "You're very patient with me," he says. "Entirely too kind to an old villain."

Roxanne sputters. "Old! You're, what, barely forty? You're basically my age, what the hell." She shakes her head. "Anyway. All I'm saying is—huh?"

He's rolling his eyes as he rises to his feet. "You know what I mean, Roxanne. Now!" He drums both palms on the table and his smile flares white over his face as he leans towards her. "Come on, come on! Miss Ritchi! Up! We have to go soon or we'll miss our flight."

Roxanne's whole brain record-scratches.

"We—our what?"

He's grinning wide and sparkling now. "Wait and seeee!" he sings as he turns away. "You'll want to run upstairs and put on your hiking shoes, just in case."

"Flight," Roxanne echoes. She slings her purse onto her shoulder and follows him as he bounce-trots towards the lobby; the hotel will bill their meals to the room. "Flight where?"

"It is a SURPRISE," he says. "I'll tell you when we're on our way. Go! Shoes! Also, probably a jacket or your big sweater. Go, go! I'll wait here."

"Okay," says Roxanne, mystified but totally game, and hurries for the stairs.

Well, he definitely seemed to be in better spirits towards the end there, at least. But the whole latter half of that conversation was pretty thoroughly strange. Frowning, she texts Wayne when she gets into her and Megamind's room—hey! anything I should know about the middle of your sophomore year??

She's locking the door behind her and tucking the key into her purse, her jacket over her arm and her feet in her hiking boots, when her phone buzzes.

WS: yeah a so called friend of mine hurt him real bad. just don't mention parrots or call him a pretty bird & you should be OK

Roxanne squints at this for a few seconds before she finally just shakes her head and types back, sounds good. Thanks! and hurries back down the stairs again. Probably something to do with his mimicry, then? And maybe that was why he seemed so amused about her comment about the birds a couple minutes ago? Whoops, but at least he wasn't upset. Well, that's good to know. Cross those topics off the list of potential comparisons in conversation.

Her phone chimes again as she hits the second floor and she pauses on the landing and glances at—

Oh. Oh wow, okay. A set of photos from Minion showing the interior of a cabin that at first glance honestly looks a lot like the place she and Megamind stayed in Missouri: pine walls, hunting trophies. This one appears to be more of a log home construction, though, and a little bit smaller. It has a wood-burning stove rather than a fireplace.

M: Good morning from Decker Peak, Idaho!
RR: omg, that looks so cute!!!
M: The views are inkredible. More pikjurs to follow soon. How is he?
RR: much better this morning :) got some good sleep. can't wait to see more photos
RR: i'm so proud of you for going!!!

It can't have been easy. Minion was awfully jittery about looking after the city in Megamind's absence; he put a brave face on but he's just as expressive as Megamind if you know what to look for. She might not have thought of it without Megamind's go if you want to comment last night, but she can definitely imagine Minion wanting to jump at the chance to get too far away to be able to feasibly worry. But his obligations…he promised Megamind he would take care of things, and Minion would never abandon his post without asking. He's a rock, no matter what.

Roxanne pauses, there in the stairwell, and sends one last text—

RR: also don't worry if i take a bit to reply, we're out & doing stuff <3 send whatever whenever! it's great to finally be able to text you lol

—and then she stows her phone in her purse and hurries down the last flight of stairs.

"Okay!" she exclaims again as she hits the lobby. "I'm all set!"

Across the room, Megamind straightens from where he had been bent at the waist and peering into the trout tank, and beams over at her. Hitching her purse higher on her shoulder, Roxanne heads for the doors outside, and Megamind peels away from the fish tank and meets her halfway across the lobby.

"So, are you going to tell me literally anything about this?" she asks as they stride out to the airship at the end of the parking lot. She's grinning. "Or am I just going to find out when we get there?"

Megamind sends her a mischievous glance just before he scrambles up the spikes to the ship's entry hatch. "Have you ever seen the Grand Canyon?"

Blinking, Roxanne follows him up. "No?"

He grins down at her from under his arm as he throws the hatch open. "Neither have I! Let's fix that!" And he scrambles into the airship headfirst with a whoop and a crash and his skull sweater falling up around his armpits until he scrambles to his feet in the narrow space and tugs it back down again.

Bewildered and snickering at his antics, Roxanne follows. The Grand Canyon? What? Is he serious? They're going to see the Grand Canyon? That's something he wants to do?

Buckling himself into the pilot's chair and firing up the ship, flicking switches and twisting dials, Megamind asks, "Was there anything in particular you had in mind for today?"

"Um. Not really?" She shrugs. "I kept today open. I know there's walking trails around the resort, but I really wasn't sure what I'd be up for, so…"

He looks over at her with his Cheshire cat smile and his eyes sparkling. "Are you up for some adventure?"

"Sure," she says, laughing a little. "I…wait, when did you plan this?"

"Yesterday!"

This does not shed any light on Roxanne's confusion. "When on EARTH did you have time to plan a trip to the Grand Canyon yesterday?"

"I am an alien, Miss Ritchi, I am not limited to 'on earth'! I also," he says, "had an idea for this evening. You mentioned wanting seafood? There is an oyster bar inside the Palace Station hotel on the Las Vegas strip. I thought we might go for dinner. Thoughts?"

Oysters? Megamind found oysters? "Oh, wow," Roxanne says, blank. If anywhere can get really fresh oysters in a desert, it's Las Vegas. "Yeah. That sounds amazing."

"Ah, fantastic!" He kicks them into the air and they zip away over the road down the mountain. "I have never had an oyster, before. There is other fare as well, of course," he says, "but it is called the Oyster Bar, so."

Excitement kindles in her as the shock of all this fades towards comprehension. Day plans, dinner plans, adventure. Fun things out and about in Nevada with a friend. This is going to be wonderful. Laughing, Roxanne settles back into her own seat and sets about teasing Megamind for getting them back into the airship today when she had so carefully reassured him yesterday that there would be no more flying. He blows a raspberry and insists it doesn't count if it's only an hour to get where they're going, which it is, because his magic shoes run so quickly, thank you.

"Oh, sure," Roxanne says, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, okay."

"You are doing the thing where you agree without agreeing," he accuses.

"Nooo, that's not a thing I'd EVER do."

He scowls. "I know this one. This is sarcasm, isn't it."

"Look at you go! Very good!"

Her phone chimes again as they fly, and she glances down. Oh! More pictures from Minion!

RR: those MOUNTAINS
Min: I know! the hero says we're in the Sawtooth Range
Min: Also, he made brekfast? And he froze me sweet coffee in ice cube trays in case I wanted to eat it?
RR: yeah idk when the heck Wayne learned to cook but he's darn good at it
RR: do you eat coffee?
Min: No, I can't prosess the caffeen.
Min: But it was thotfull.

Aloud, she says, "Wow, Minion wasn't kidding when he said spelling wasn't his strong suit."

"No he was not," Megamind says. "Do not tease him, he's sensitive."

"Oh, I won't," Roxanne assures him. "No, that would be mean. I get what he's saying, that's all that really matters. Also I'm…kind of surprised he went with Wayne."

"Mm. We texted a bit, after you went to bed. I had to step out onto the balcony at one point for a call—he was very worried." He sounds like he's rolling his eyes.

She glances sideways at him. "Kind of surprised you told him he should go."

Megamind shrugs.

After a few seconds, she leans to see a little more of his face. "…Is Metro going to be okay?"

He's quiet.

Finally he says, "Probably, yes. My systems are well-established and we won't be gone long. The brainbots are more intuitive than they've ever been and I had Minion increase their tolerance for random citizens another several degrees before he left. Anything that happens will not be my doing, but I doubt there will be an emergency anyway.

"But if there is," he adds, black brows lowering into an unexpectedly grim scowl, "and neither Metro Man nor I nor Minion are around to mitigate it directly…well then that will be an important demonstration, won't it."

Roxanne blinks. "You're hoping someone does attack?"

"Ah—no. I am not hoping they do. But I would not be upset if they did."

"Why?"

Megamind scoffs and waves a hand. "As we discussed yesterday! Wayne is exhausted! He is falling-out-of-the-sky tired. He does so much more than ANYONE in my city realizes, possibly even more than I do, which is," he barks a mirthless laugh, "NOT something I like to admit, but here I am staring down the barrel of losing my very comfortable setup, so! Here I am!"

Comfortable setup? Roxanne wonders.

"I don't want to bring on more heroes," Megamind is saying; "he doesn't want to bring on more heroes, but the city NEEDS to invest in better infrastructure and emergency services and safety net programs to take some of the strain off his shoulders and they are dragging their heels in entirely unacceptable ways! So, if there is a disaster, if there is an attack…that will be regrettable. Most unfortunate. But it will offer immediate clarity on what would occur if something happened to us. Him."

Roxanne chews on her lip for a moment, but she has to admit she can see his point. "And if nothing bad happens while you're gone?"

"Evidence that we can and should take more vacations. Win-win!"

She snorts. "Well. Okay. I just…wasn't expecting it, that's all. Really threw me for a loop; I didn't realize they were even friends."

"They aren't. But Metro Man isn't one for solitude, and there aren't many people he trusts."

"He trusts Minion?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

Shocked, she shakes her head. "I guess I couldn't say," she says, thinking, He's YOUR MINION, you're his arch-nemesis, your stated goal for years has been his total destruction. "I mean, I know they've known each other since they were kids, but…I always thought Minion didn't like him."

Megamind sighs. "Minion has been warming up to him. In recent years. After Metro Man and I started coordinating."

Roxanne looks at him. "That's really a thing?" she asks. "Really? I know it was rumored, but…"

He doesn't reply.

"Oh—I'm sorry," she realizes, a second later. "Sorry, that wasn't—you don't have to elaborate, I'm—honored you would mention it, at all. Anyway, it's good they're making friends! I have to imagine Minion has even less of a social life than you do."

Megamind wrinkles his face. "Why," he complains, "is everyone so terribly convinced I don't 'get out' enough?"

"Megamind. You have no friends."

"I have you and Minion!"

"Oh, of course. My mistake—"

"Thank you."

"—you have ONE friend. And Minion."

He scowls and his mouth scrunches into a pout. "I get out enough. And! I have my uncles."

"You get out for work," Roxanne says. "Otherwise you're basically stuck at home or at my place or prison. Almost everywhere else will have you arrested. I'm not teasing you," she adds, when his scowl deepens. "If you're happy being solitary, that's fine. But you've really been surprisingly great, socializing on this trip. Oh—and I meant to apologize," she adds, clicking her fingers as she remembers. "For pushing you into talking to those kids, yesterday. I wasn't really thinking about how tired you probably still were."

His pouty expression blew open with surprise at I apologize, and now, to her surprise, he laughs. "Oh," he says, "all is forgiven. It was an amusing conversation! I was…surprised, in fact. Historically I have not gotten on well with children."

She glances over at him from where she's replying to another message from Minion (evidently he had to threaten Wayne in order to be allowed to do the dishes. Minion had finally put his foot down because Wayne DID NOT know what he was doing and was approaching a Teflon pan with a Brillo pad). "Was that when you were a kid, too?" And then, at his nod, she sputters a laugh. "Oh my god. Of course it's a completely different dynamic, now! Kids are curious and they aren't used to adults paying attention to them. If you're willing to give them the time of day and not talk down to them, they'll follow you around forever."

"Hmm."

"Seriously. That older one who told you about the sauropod you hadn't heard of? I guarantee they're going to be talking about you to their parents for at least a month."

He wrinkles his face. "Because I asked about a dinosaur?"

"Because you listened. Because they said something you didn't know, and you asked to hear more instead of ignoring them or shutting them down." She shrugs. "Nobody takes kids seriously. If you do, you stand out."

His expression clears, and he nods. "Ah," he says, with a quieter note in his voice, "yes. That, I do remember."

They set down in the parking lot well ahead of their scheduled time, and Roxanne is immediately leaning forward in her seat and peering around at the wide-open space around them before the transparency shuts off. Scrubby plant life and reddish rocks abound, but these are different from what Colorado had to offer. It's neat to be able to compare the two so easily.

"So, are you going to tell me what we're doing now," she teases.

"Small airplane tour of the Grand Canyon," Megamind says from where he's opening the hatch out onto the wing. "I thought it might be interesting."

"An airplane tour," she exclaims, jaw dropping in delight at this prospect. She had assumed earlier, after he said they were going to see the Grand Canyon, that he had said 'flight' at breakfast as a joke. As she crawls out after him, she says, "That sounds neat! You know, it's funny, I would have assumed you'd be more interested in checking out the Strip."

The autumn sun glares off the reddish ground and faded asphalt of the parking lot and shines on the edges of the leaves of the desert plants scattered around. Across the parking lot, the glass facade of a large building with stone accents flashes in Roxanne's peripheral vision. There is no canyon visible from where they're standing yet, but the various maps tucked into pamphlet stands inside will show they're standing at the edge of Grand Canyon National Park.

"I won't deny Las Vegas is intriguing," Megamind allows. He's going through a few of his less acrobatic stretches under the little airship while Roxanne clambers down the wing after locking the hatch back down. "But we have a city at home. And we'll go see the city this evening, a little bit! I thought, possibly, it might be different to spend some time outside."

"Fuck," Roxanne realizes, clicking her fingers. "The sunscreen—oh. Well, look at you! Mister Thinks-of-Everything!"

"Head, big, reason! But I am not putting it on until I have to," he says flatly, stowing it away again in his pocket. He must have one of those little dimension things sewn into his very tight black jeans; there is no lump of sunscreen bottle at all. The thing seems to just disappear into the side of his leg.

"I'm surprised you didn't try to leave it on the ship and forget about it."

He snorts. "Yes, well. I suspected you might think of it, Miss Goody-Goody Skincare Queen. Come on!" And he jerks his huge head at the building and breaks into a trot, with Roxanne walking quickly next to him.

"Insistence on sun protection one time does not make me a skincare queen."

"Agree to disagree!"

Ahead of them, one of the doors opens and a heavyset young woman with a blonde ponytail steps out of the building and waves. "Hey heyyy! You made it!"

"Yes! Ollo!" To Roxanne, Megamind says, "I spoke with Bridget while you were napping! About things to do. Her brother is one of the pilots here; she said he was complaining yesterday morning about a cancellation for today. So, I thought—why not?"

"Aw, that's awesome!"

Internally, Roxanne is once again reeling. Megamind asked about things to do? Megamind…asked? About things to do? Megamind approached a near-total stranger, in the mood he was in yesterday, to ask questions? Why would he not simply use his phone, or that tablet she saw him working on earlier? What on earth?

Bridget holds the door for them to go inside, then follows them in. "Paul, these are them! So, there's some paperwork to fill out—Paul'll walk you through it, no problem. And that's Nick over there, he's our copilot today—"

"Howdy!"

"—yep, and—anyway, Megs, I put your name on the reservation, so—"

"Ah! Of course, yes," Megamind says, and heads for the young man who just sat up behind the counter across the room and waved.

Roxanne is staring around and around at the place and vaguely trying to wrap her head around 'Megs' from someone else when Bridget leans towards her and says, grinning, "You look like this was all kind of a surprise."

"It was," Roxanne exclaims, "yeah! He said he asked you about…possible activities? Yesterday? I'm…impressed; he's not usually very social."

Bridget laughs. "Ha! I did kind of get that vibe. Um. He seems really sweet, though. C'mon, let me show you the plane!"

Behind them, Roxanne hears the sound of Paul or Nick saying something, and Megamind waving concerns away. He waves physically at her when she glances over her shoulder, and Bridget yells over, "I know, Paul, god, we won't touch anything!" and so Roxanne follows her back out into the sun.

"I'm going to be tagging along," Bridget cheerfully says as she leads Roxanne over the Tarmac. Roxanne is wearing her jacket against the cool autumn wind, but Bridget seems totally comfortable in just her soft purple sweater. At least the sun is warm. "I hope that's okay, I love seeing the canyon from the air! Paul and Nick will be up front, I'll be in the back. You guys should sit near the middle, maybe a little bit aft for balance? But other than that you've got your pick of seats—the group that canceled was pretty big, and your blue friend in there picked up the full charter rather than have to deal with anyone else." She grins. "Literally, he was like, 'and if I buy all of the seats, then I don't have to talk to anybody but you and Roxanne and the pilots?' and I said 'yep,' and he went, 'fanTAStic! Then I shall indeed buy ALL OF THE SEATS.'"

Roxanne snorts into laughter. That was definitely Megamind's inflection. "Oh! That's…wow. I can't say I'm surprised."

"And I can't say how relieved Paul was to sell out the charter," Bridget adds. "He gets bonuses the more seats he flies. There was a deposit, of course, but that cancellation was a real kick in the pants."

"Oh no," Roxanne says. "Well, I'm glad we could help."

"Me, too! And here we are—she's a De Havilland Canada Twin Otter, you can see she's got pretty big windows for visibility. Wings are on the upper part of the fuselage," gesturing with both arms as she speaks, wind whipping her hair around her shoulders and her chunky white sunglasses as the two of them slowly move down the length of the plane, "so nice clear views, basically no obstruction. Decently smooth in the air, but we might be having a bumpy ride since we're flying so light today. You get airsick? I have Dramamine if you need it."

"Not usually," Roxanne says.

"That's good! Oh and how does that silver thing you two flew in on work? Can I ask?" Bridget looks over towards where the Magic Shoes is resting on its wingtips and landing strut in the parking lot, across a small field from the airstrip, shining mirror-bright in the sunlight.

"I don't entirely know how it works," Roxanne admits, gazing over at it as well. "From what I understand, there's a kind of highly reactive nanomesh lattice all through the power system, and he's figured out how to pull energy from its oxidation reactions. It's all in a…not a tube, but it's encased around the exterior of the ship, and the casing squeezes to constrict and release the areas you tell it to. That's how she steers." She shrugs, grinning at the distant shape of the vessel. "As far as how propulsion works, I'm totally lost. Didn't get far enough into the right kind of physics."

Bridget laughs. "That's neat, though! He built her himself? How fast does she go?"

"He did. She's very fast over land—not airplane-fast, but she got us all the way here from Michigan in only around fifteen hours or so."

"Oof." Bridget winces. "You guys fly straight through?"

"Oh, no," Roxanne laughs. "No, we left Saturday morning. I probably could've done it in one go, but he can't sit still that long. Plus he's barely ever left home! So we made it a road trip."

"Awww! Okay, I take back the oof, that sounds like fun! You stop anywhere cool?"

"We, ah, we did see the world's largest ball of twine?" Roxanne says, kind of grimace-smiling—

But Bridget's face lights up. "What? Shut up! I didn't think that was something people actually did! Holy crap, do you have pictures of it? Can I see?"

"Oh," says Roxanne, blinking but digging for her phone, "sure, yeah! Yeah, one sec."

"That is SO cool," Bridget says as Roxanne scrolls back through to get to the twine. "The World's Largest Ball of Twine is, like, THEEE tourist trap. It's iconic! It—aaaa, oh my gosh look at you guys! You're so cute! And…wow, yeah, that…sure is a big ball of twine, as advertised!" She lifts her sunglasses onto her forehead, beaming down at Roxanne's phone as she flicks through a couple of the pictures. "Great weather for it, wow."

"Yeah, we've been really fortunate, weather-wise," Roxanne agrees.

She is currently feeling somewhat out of her depth. Initially, she hadn't been entirely sure if Bridget was making fun of her somehow; it's been a while since she's seen someone with this wide of a smile hold their cheery tone this long and actually mean it. And the twine is not exactly an exciting detour by most standards. But Bridget's dimples have not dropped once, except in sympathy for Roxanne and Megamind's travel time. She does seem genuine. No sign of eye-rolling or lip-curling, just staring down at Roxanne's phone in apparent delight.

"If you scroll a little further left you'll see one of the funniest selfies I've ever taken," Roxanne offers.

Grinning, Bridget scrolls—

—and bursts into a peal of bright laughter.

"Greetings, Earthlings!" she exclaims, pressing a hand to her ample chest. "And your glasses! Oh that's SO good. That's one for the scrapbook, for sure. Where was this? Utah?"

"Kansas, I think? Might have been Colorado."

"I was always terrible at geography," Bridget smiles, passing Roxanne's phone back. "Awww. That looks so fun! Wow. I don't think I know anybody I could spend three days in a car or whatever with and still want to do fun stuff together afterwards," she adds. "You two are lucky."

"We are," Roxanne is agreeing, without really thinking about it. "Yeah, it's been really nice. I was a little worried before we left, but…"

"Aw, what's to worry about? You've obviously known each other for forever; you're, like, super comfy with each other—yeah he's a villain, but—"

"Oh, no, not about him," Roxanne exclaims, "not like that! No, I trust him with my life!" Half-laughing, shrugging as she says, "Just…you know, travel is a lot, that's all. And like I said, he's barely left Metro. I wasn't sure if he was going to regret everything. But he says he's having fun, so."

Bridget is nodding along. "Good! Aw, that's good to hear. And you're having fun, too? Yay! Hey heeeyyyyy!" Waving, bouncing a little at Paul and Nick and Megamind approaching in the distance. She skips towards them a little, and—the light catches her barrette, some kind of something above her ponytail—

It's not surprising that she has something in her hair; she hasn't skimped on jewelry. Multiple piercings, and her statement necklace is enormous, the kind of brightly-colored fun thing Roxanne could never get away with at work and has always been envious of. But the clip in Bridget's hair is smaller, and just silver, no colors. Roxanne squints.

Is that…is that Megamind's insignia?

It sure LOOKS like Megamind's insignia.

What…

Bridget glances back at her, then tweaks her eyebrows a little; oh, Roxanne's confusion must be showing. Now thoroughly baffled, Roxanne points vaguely towards the back of her own head. What on earth did Megamind do while she was asleep?

"Wh…oh! The clip!" Bridget flushes. "Long story, ha ha. Um. Yeah so when he came downstairs yesterday, the first thing he said was, he wanted to offer me some advice on how to handle villains? Considering the issue with the computer system? Which was REALLY great because ooooh I am NOT cut out for conflict. And then he's also letting me borrow a couple things, just in case. I guess the clip is some kinda fancy shield? Anyway he said to wear it somewhere visible, and I gotta say," she lowers her voice, widens her eyes, "the last couple hours of my shift were sooo much easier? There was one guy who showed up, a real asshole, but then when I turned to try and look something up on the computer…wow, hey, suddenly way more polite? I don't know if it was because he saw the, the…little doodad thingy," gesturing towards her hair, "but…"

"It's definitely possible." Roxanne is doing her absolute best to hide the fact that she is fucking floored right now. She would never have expected ANY of this from her companion. She's going to have to maybe tease him later about worrying so hard he offered help to a complete stranger. "I don't really know much about his reputation in the villainous community. But he's been flying solo as Metro's only actual supervillain for years, so I guess he's probably pretty notorious for not playing nicely with others."

"I guess! Which is weird, you know, because…I mean, like I said. He seems really sweet! You're lucky."

"We aren't actually dating," Roxanne says, wondering why she's saying it even as the words leave her mouth. She has a flash of a vague mental image, of this Bridget lady asking Megamind to get coffee or something before he leaves, hitting it off—she's bubbly and friendly, she's young, she's so pretty—

"Well I wouldn't know why not," Bridget exclaims. "Aren't you interested? I'd be interested. I," with a very self-conscious laugh, "actually did think at one point that he might be flirting with me? He was not. Oops! Anyway THEN he asked about, you know, stuff to do, and everything. But yeah, it was really nice of him! I was kind of scared, at first, but he was so helpful!"

Yes, helpful to strangers, a thing Megamind definitely has a lot of practice being and is very good at. But all Roxanne can do is nod. Megamind has been helpful to her, of course, but he KNOWS her. 

"I like your hiking boots, by the way," Bridget says. She tilts her head. "Didn't he bring any?"

"He claims he's fine in what he's wearing," Roxanne says, head spinning.

"Hm!" Bridget nods, grinning, then spins around and claps her hands as the other three arrive at the plane. "Okay! So! We all set?"

"We are indeed all set," Paul confirms, "right after this young lady signs her release forms."

Roxanne blinks at Megamind.

"Alas, the gentleman would not permit me to commit visible fraud in front of him, because Rules are Important," Megamind tells her, with an expansive roll of his eyes and very big air quotes with his fingers.

"Of course. Just surprised you didn't try anyway." Roxanne snorts and shakes her head as she takes the stapled packet and proffered pen. She's also sort of laughing at young lady; she's pretty sure she's older than Paul by at least ten years. "Turn, I need your bony shoulderblade."

Megamind snorts and rolls his eyes, and he turns around and holds still for Roxanne to sign and write her name at the bottom of the page. "I read through it," he says over his shoulder as she does so. "Nothing out of the ordinary. Blah blah risk, blah no suing if we all die horribly blah."

Roxanne hands the forms back to Paul for him to tuck away in his jacket and start unlocking doors and arranging stairs. "Was that my driver's license number I saw on page one?"

"Please, like I don't know your driver's license number."

"Right, but wouldn't this place also need my actual—? Oh, for crying out loud."

Megamind's wide smile and cocked brow as he gives her wallet back are both very smug. "Please, Miss Ritchi! Do give me some credit as a professional."

"Pickpocketing isn't villainy," she sighs, tucking her wallet into its usual pocket in her bag, "it's being a pest. Did you rearrange my credit cards again?"

His smug grin goes wider. His green eyes are sparkling with mischief. The last time Roxanne recovered her wallet after Megamind lifted it, her credit cards, grocery and gym membership cards, insurance card, and several gift cards were all mixed up with each other. Not a terrible indiscretion, just tedious to organize.

"Megamind."

There is a flash of teeth, and then he says, "No, in fact. But! I did hide your library card. It is in there, but good luck finding it."

Rolling her eyes, shaking her head, Roxanne says, "You are the worst, I despise you. Thanks for handling the paperwork."

Megamind bows, his mouth in his Cheshire cat grin. Then, "Shall we?" he asks, and Roxanne leans on his hand to steady herself as she follows Bridget up into the plane.

Chapter Text

Roxanne has never been in an emptier plane. Or a smaller one. Bless Megamind for building a relatively spacious cockpit in his little airship; this really feels like crawling into a cigar.

But it is also sort of charming, to climb in and get her seat belt on with Paul and Nick climbing in front after their preflight check, Bridget in the back where she can see out of either side equally well, and Megamind on the other side of the plane from Roxanne. His eyes are bright and sparkling, his smile hasn't slipped really at all since they left the hotel.

Paul calls out safety instructions as the engines fire up—no eating, no drinking, no chatter until he or Nick give the all-clear, seat belts stay on, no changing seats. Easy enough.

It's a spectacular flight. The Grand Canyon is not like anything else Roxanne has ever seen—there's almost no slope down except at intermittent intervals, no rise to the edge; just a gash in the earth with a river somewhere at the bottom. The rock strata are incredible, all shades of red and orange and ruddy brown.

"To our left, you can just make out the Hoover Dam," Paul says. "Adjusting for inflation, it was a multi-billion dollar project when it was built, including the hydroelectric power plant and generators." He relays some statistics about irrigation and water allocation, and then banks the plane towards Lake Mead.

"Look how pale that lowest layer is," Roxanne calls to Megamind, as they're flying over the lake. He nods. "I don't know why it's lighter closer to the water line, do you?"

She leans forward in her chair, turns to look and see what she can of his face. He's staring down at the view below, head turning with sharp movements, eyes looking all around. "I don't," he calls back. "I know—I know the names of the layers, but—I don't know where they are, I can't make it out."

Paul shouts back, as Roxanne turns towards her own window again, "You'll be able to see more clearly deeper into the canyon, away from the lake."

And sure enough, the lines in the cliffs and rocks are much more clearly delineated as they leave Lake Mead and fly upriver. Megamind points out sandstones and limestones and shales, schist and gneiss, and Roxanne nods along, completely at sea with the narration but entirely delighted with the view. She films some of the flight on her phone, takes pictures. A couple selfies. She also gets a great little video of Megamind pointing a spindly blue finger and saying, "And you see down at the waterline, I don't know if you can see from where you're sitting but when we bank again, you can see some very dark rock, I think that's the Vishnu Schist, it's…almost two billion years old are you filming me? You AWFUL lady! Give me that—" and then a blaze of his smile just before everything blurs with his wild cackle of laughter and Roxanne's giggling shriek. The video cuts out as Megamind does a perfect hand-over-lens camera grab, exactly as she was hoping he would. That's going to be perfect to send her brother.

It really is a lovely flight, though. The walls of the canyon are a steep cliff before they angle out for a moment, and then they drop off again, the product of hundreds and hundreds of millions of years of beaches and sand dunes where plants long-extinct once rooted and held the sand and rustled their leaves in the wind, of the dark mud of river deltas where nameless animals never pressed into the fossil record spawned and swam, of the bottoms of shallow seas and the creatures that lived and died there. Over and over and compressed into stone, layered flat and broken diagonally and layered again. And at the bottom, the river, brown, still bringing sediment, carving itself now through a volcanic memory nearly half the age of the planet.

Roxanne can't help but think she doesn't quite have the background to properly appreciate it. She's probably not going to remember half of what Megamind is telling her about all this, but…she's glad to have him along.

I'm not from here.

Was there anything like this where he was from, she wonders. Canyons? Rivers? Surely there must have been rivers at least; Minion is fishlike and Megamind has gills to breathe in lakes and streams. But he has legs to walk upright, too. There must have been both land and water, like here. An atmosphere like Earth's and a temperature like Earth's would foster more or less Earth-like life, right? Megamind's blood is red, after all; she remembers a long-ago conversation with Drew about hemoglobin being so perfectly suited for Earth that one of his colleagues insisted it was proof of the existence of a higher power. Would it be awful of Roxanne to ask? Is it a sensitive topic?

She turns again and looks over her shoulder at him. His long nose is pressed to the glass of the window, along with his gloved fingertips. She can see from the curve of his cheek and his lashes, he's smiling, wide-eyed with excitement.

He is a strange, gangly thing. Broad-shouldered for the rest of his body, but still narrow. Wiry. There is a small strip of blue skin, his tiny wrist, visible between the sleeve of his skull-patterned sweater and the leather of his glove. She would assume he was fragile if she had not seen how he rises again still fighting after every hit he takes. He has all the ruthless, indomitable pride of Alexander the Great, and all the wonder of a child. He's amazing.

The temptation to send her mother one of the pictures she showed Bridget earlier raises its head again. Rolling her eyes, Roxanne squashes it.

It is a terrible idea. It would just be a ton of yelling and heartache, same as always. Worse. She'll just take some more pictures out the airplane window, instead.

Aaaand maybe also one candid shot of Megamind smiling out of his window. For no reason. It's cute! He's cute! It's fine. She'll text it to him later to tease him. He—

Megamind turns to look at her and his gaze meets hers and sends a shock through her whole body with the force of his smile. "This is fantastic," he exclaims over the roar of the engines. "It looks so different in person!"

…Oh?

No. No no. He's a good friend, Roxanne thinks at herself, firm. One of my best friends, at this point. That is all. Oh, my god, if I brought Megamind along on this trip just to develop a crush on him, I'm going to scream.

Dizzy, she turns back towards her own window after grinning back and nodding agreement at him.

Be sensible about this, she scolds herself. He is being nice to you. You are friends. You LIKE being friends. Leave it at that.

It's…fine. It's fine. Roxanne is ready to date again, apparently! Neat. Whether she wants to date again is a very different question.

She took some time 'off' after her last breakup. To work on herself. She hadn't ever really done that before, and at the time, she wasn't sure if maybe that was some of her problem; she got into her first relationship in her early teens and then hopped from boyfriend to partner to girlfriend etcetera and spent as little time as possible being single. But then that whole mess happened, and her career took off, and Roxanne decided enough was enough and she simply didn't have time for dating. She didn't and still doesn't want kids, so at least that wasn't a factor, thank heavens. Better to just…focus on her job. And therapy. And herself.

There have been one or two people in the last couple of years who caught her eye, but Roxanne ignored those feelings. She didn't have time and she was out of practice with relationships, and she could easily think of reasons it wouldn't work out. Also, both people were coworkers, which she would really prefer to avoid if at all possible. Her thing with Wayne has been wonderfully strategic for them both.

She bites her lip.

Megamind is sweet with her. He's definitely capable of violence, which doesn't put him in a particularly stellar category in terms of potential romantic partners…but that's really only in his role as Overlord of Metro. And he's always so tired after he needs to display a show of force; he doesn't enjoy it. He is sweet with Roxanne, and he has actually genuinely opened up to her in the last few months of planning all this with him. He trusts her.

Well then she'll…just…add this to her list of things to think about? Right? With respect to Megamind?

Holding him last night felt like such a non-issue. She had been too sleepy to really consider the attraction side of it, but good lord. At least he said it was okay.

Oh shit and he asked if Roxanne would be open to doing that again tonight. Fuck. Shit.

Well it's not like she can back out now. She could, but Megamind would think it was because she doesn't feel safe around him. Because of the rest of that conversation. Dummy.

But also if she DID back out and sleep in her own bed with earplugs or something, it would literally only be on principle. Not because she wants to. She doesn't want to! She wanted to hold him when he panicked and she wanted to hold him when he slept and she wants to hold him again. It felt right. And it was nice. Roxanne never gets to cuddle anybody anymore; she misses it.

It was also nice, she remembers, when Megamind held her, briefly, at the twine. It was nice when he stood with his arm around her for a picture outside of the UFO rest stop later that same day.

…Goddammit, she thinks, tired.

Okay. Well. Attraction is fine and she's been attracted to him for ages; emotions can be fine, too. Actions are what really matter. Just don't be creepy to him and it's fine either way, right? And he does seem to like contact, so…she'll probably just check in and make sure she isn't doing it too much?

Could she date him?

Ohhhh the leaping in her chest at that idea is a bad sign.

The fact of the matter is, Roxanne has dated a lot of people and none of those relationships worked out. Some were better than others, but neither of her two longest were what she would call healthy. And Megamind…

Megamind is a basket case. Megamind is five pounds of trauma in a six ounce bag. Megamind needs someone stable.

But I'm stable, she thinks, frowning. I'm stable, though, aren't I? These days? I think I'm okay, now. I've been single for years and doing great. Therapy and everything.

Ten years ago she would have turned to him right there in the plane and asked if he wanted to make out when they got back to the hotel. Today she is chewing on her lip and thinking, wow, the fact that she's this much more worried about hurting him than she is about getting hurt, herself, does not say great things about the state of her feelings towards him.

He's just a wet cat, she tries. You just feel sorry for him, but she remembers the warmth in her chest when he asked if he could sleep on her couch in her home, before she had any idea of the shape of the nightmares he carries. She remembers laughing at her desk at work when he told her being a shrimp would be to his advantage in a fight. Remembers how many times she's come home to find him waiting, and felt absolutely none of the resignation that she's sure would have set in at the sight of…literally anyone else except Minion.

No, this isn't pity. This isn't feeling sorry for a friend. This is…very definitely something Roxanne is going to need to think about more. Later. Think about more, later, when she doesn't have a fucking wedding hanging over her head. For now, she is setting. this. aside. She'll address it with him when they get home.

She sighs and leans her head against the window.

It really is a beautiful view.

Crunching back down onto the tarmac after they land, Roxanne stumbles a little and then dusts herself off before hitching her purse back up onto her shoulder.

"Wow!" she exclaims. "That was super cool! Paul, Nick, thank you both so much."

"Hey, thank you guys for picking up the charter last minute like that," Paul says, grinning. He offers Megamind a fistbump. "You're a lifesaver, little dude, truly."

"Ho ho ho, I am NOT, but it was infinitely preferable to being squooshed and squashed in amongst strangers," Megamind says, returning the proffered bump with his much-smaller fist. "I hope the rest of your day proves fruitful."

"I'm heading out, too," Bridget says. "I'm graveyard shift tonight, but I bet I can sneak in a nap before I have to clock in." She winks. "Oh! and Megamind! Thanks for this," turning her head and tapping his insignia. "I'm pretty sure it helped yesterday. Okay I'll see you guys later maybe have fun with your day byeeeeeeeee!"

Roxanne stares after her. "There goes Airplane Barbie," she says.

"Not enough pink for that," Megamind replies. "But yes. I cannot believe she's manning the front desk alone, this of all weeks."

Roxanne glances over at him. "She said you actually offered her some tips?"

His ears flush. "No! Absolutely not! That would be ridiculous, ha ha, most unvillainous of me, she was definitely OBVIOUSLY lying to you."

Roxanne snorts. "She thought you were flirting with her."

His ears flush harder. "I'm aware."

"Oh?"

"Yes, because she told me. After she told me when her shift ended and asked what I was doing for dinner."

Roxanne's jaw drops, and then she laughs and elbows him. "Ooo, dinner!" she teases. "Awww, you could have gotten laid!"

Megamind spasms like he's sat on a tack. "What? No, what? No!"

She can't stop laughing. He's such fun when he's flustered; he's blushing so hard. "I don't know, dinner's pretty serious! She seems super into you."

"Yes OR it was simply the next available meal of the day," he argues. "Definitely absolutely only that!"

Snickering, Roxanne shakes her head. "Well. Like I said this morning, you and I aren't actually joined at the hip. If the opportunity presents itself and you want to, buddy, go for it!"

"I will not be doing that."

"Fine, fine. Just saying, this is why people think you don't get out enough."

An expression of total bewilderment crosses his face. "Because I don't go around fucking random strangers? Also," he wrinkles his nose, "buddy sounds weird from you. Metro Man calls me that, it's weird when it's you."

She feels herself grin. "Aw. Shall I call you bestie, instead? Oh," when he jerks and splutters and his face goes scarlet, "he likes that one!"

"No! I don't! Shut up!"

"Bestiiiie," Roxanne sings, looping her arm through his and tugging on him so he stumbles and yelps into stifled giggles, "ahaha, you're so much fun. Come on, do you want to maybe walk a little? It looked like there was some kind of trailhead over by the building. The sign said something about an overlook."

Megamind groans but cannot quite hide his smile as he permits himself to be dragged after her. "Would I have to wear sunscreen?"

"Yes, you have to wear sunscreen."

"EeehhhhnnnghhOKAY but must I touch it with my hands? It is aerosolized."

"You do still have to rub it in, yes," Roxanne says. "Especially on your face."

She already showed him how back at Garden of the Gods, and he pulls the same disgusted expression now as he did then.

"I can do it for you if you want, you big baby," Roxanne laughs as they head for the shade of a tree over by the registration building. "If you don't want it on your hands."

"No, no," Megamind sighs. He's already undoing the snaps of his short gloves and wiggling his hands free. "The back of my neck is sensitive; I would rather you didn't. Here."

The little trees by the building are rustling in the breeze and small birds are bluffing and squabbling in the scrubby shrubs of the landscaping, fluttering in the dust of the parking lot. A family with two small children is hurrying up to the building—one of the kids points at Megamind and exclaims—something, Roxanne doesn't catch what it is. Their mother quickly grabs their hand and replies; Roxanne still doesn't catch the words but she absolutely recognizes the tone: Don't point! It's rude to stare!

Thankfully, Megamind appears completely oblivious. Whether this is because he actually hasn't noticed anything or because he's used to being stared at and is deliberately tuning it out, she isn't sure. At least he isn't bothered.

Blinking a bit as she accepts the bottle from him and hands him her purse so she can start spraying sunscreen on her own neck, she says, "I didn't realize that. Was me sort of lying on you there not good then? Or…"

"No, that was fine." He steps upwind of her so the spray won't blow onto him. "You weren't moving around; it wasn't a problem. And you weren't even really touching there until you tried to hide from the morning."

"Until I what?"

"You tried to hide! The sun was bright and so you tried to burrow your face under my head, it was very funny." He flashes his teeth in a teasing smile. "It just also meant I woke up to somebody poking their nose way too hard against the top of my spine."

She splutters. "Aw! Oh no! Sorry about that. That sounds uncomfortable."

"Quite all right," he replies. "The rest more than made up for it. Literally," he adds. "I haven't slept so well in years."

"Aw, I'm glad."

It's Megamind's turn with the sunscreen, so Roxanne accepts her purse back and checks her phone for messages.

WS: Roxie helpppp :(

She frowns and leans against the tree to wait for Megamind. Thankfully, Wayne must not be too far from his phone—it's been a few minutes since he texted her, but he responds right away.

RR: what's up
WS: I asked Minion along cuz I don't wanna be here by myself but I don't actually know what to talk to him about
WS: And he seems SUPER AWKWARD :/

Roxanne snorts.

RR: cooking? or costuming? you like playing dress-up :P
RR: ask him about Edna Mode, he used to be pen pals with her
WS: He WHAT
WS: Okay wow, dang, color me impressed
WS: Also it's so quiet out here, you have no idea
RR: you could try and find a lake for him to swim in if he's freshwater
RR: aw, i'm glad! give your poor ears a break
RR: or whatever the heck it is you use to listen with
WS: I can hear what my flight system sounds like
WS: lol

"What are you grinning about," Megamind says, and then, "blrrghgghh. Hand sanitizer, please."

Roxanne fishes it out of her bag and hands it to him. "Ha, your eyebrows are scuffed."

"And scuffed they shall stay! I am NOT touching my face again except to shower." He squirts more gel into his palms, rubbing vigorously between his fingers. "Urgh, I can still feel it," he complains, "it feels like dust powder."

RR: wait, you can't hear it at home?
WS: honestly I didn't know my flight system sounded like anything
WS: But yeah, thanks, I'll try the fashion angle. I wanna hear about that dress he made you, it sounds neat
RR: glad I could help!

"We'll go back to the hotel after this and you can get a shower," she says aloud, stowing her phone in her back pocket—at least the back pockets of her jeans are still deep enough for a cell phone—in case Wayne or Minion texts again. He didn't realize his own flight system made sound? That's…really sad. Kind of alarming, honestly; Roxanne can't often hear her own heartbeat, but can't imagine having NEVER heard it.

Megamind finishes tucking his gloves away somewhere, then looks around. "Oh," he says, "do you want me to carry your purse? It should fit."

"Won't it still be heavy in the pocket dimension?"

He shakes his head.

Roxanne lifts her eyebrows, but she nods and sort of shrugs and passes him her bag. "Yeah, here. Thanks."

"Always with the thanking me!"

"You're doing something nice," she says, rolling her eyes. "Oh my GOD, get used to it."

"Mleh MLEH, mleh mleh mleh mleh. Ah! Ha ha—hey!" Roxanne has just bumped him hard with her shoulder and made him stumble. Megamind is slightly off-balance, though, from where he was basically pushing Roxanne's bag into a sparkling rift in the side of his leg, along the seam of his jeans—his foot turns—

"Whoa!" Roxanne turns, too, and grabs his arms and drags him up, staggering back a couple steps as she takes his weight.

Mortified, Megamind scrambles upright and frantically brushes himself off. "I was fine! That was fine! You saw nothing!"

"You okay?"

"I was fine! That was fine! You—"

"Saw nothing, right, yeah. You," she adds, grinning. "You didn't twist your ankle?"

"My ankle is fine," he says, face hot and ears burning. "I do not have any idea why you are even asking."

"Tsk." She makes a small clicking noise with her mouth, then loops her arm back through his again. "Un-ruffle those feathers, nobody's laughing at you. Come on! Let's do some walking. Oh, but wait—"

He glowers in mock-offense. "Feathers!"

"Yes, you're a very handsome fancy peacock. One second, I'll set…a timer…" She has withdrawn her arm to retrieve her phone and do something to it. Whatever it is, it involves one of Megamind's favorite non-smiling facial expressions: a rumple between her eyebrows, and her lips in a little pout of concentration. The wind is in her hair, and the sun through the tree they're under is dappling over her skin and jacket as the leaves move.

She's so beautiful. And smart. And kind. He's so lucky. Bestie! Did she mean it? Oh, he hopes she meant it.

Megamind catches his heartsick smile just in time to replace it with one he knows means interested confusion before Roxanne looks up. Success! She sees him looking at her and says, "The sunscreen only lasts a couple hours. I'm guessing you're not going to want to reapply, so, I set a timer! And I think this'll give us a good amount of time to get some lunch, get back to the hotel, get showers, and then go to dinner at a reasonable hour. Unless you had something else planned? We could…I don't know, we could go see the Hoover Dam?"

"Maybe on Thursday," he says, "on our way out. Do they do tours?"

"I'll look into it when we get back to the airship?"

He nods.

And he hesitates—and—oh, fuck it, he sticks his elbow out and reaches across himself with his other hand, sweeps the backs of his fingers along Roxanne's arm so she lifts it until—

"Oh! Okay," she says, laughing a little as he gently guides her to link her arm through his, the way she was before. Megamind grins at her; she shrugs at him and grins back as she tugs him to start moving. "Sure, this is nice."

He blinks. She seemed startled, just then. "Should I not have—?"

"I cannot think of any reason why you shouldn't have," she says, very firmly, "especially since I did it first."

She's walking normally, he's relieved to see; she isn't trying to match his bouncing gait. And (and this is VERY pleasant to note) Megamind's normal skipping trot is more or less Roxanne's walking speed. It works. It WORKS. There had not been enough distance to assess such things back at the ball of twine; this is DELIGHTFUL.

He is outside and he's with Roxanne and he's on vacation and she's happy and he's happy. Her hand is warm on his arm, sending all kinds of nice tingly feelings through him. The sunscreen is horrendous, but it's definitely better than the sun lotions he has tried to wear in the past. Tomorrow is a looming shadow of question marks and social expectations for which he has no knowledge or prior experience, but he will be with Roxanne. She is remarkably socially adept. She won't steer him wrong. And today is nice; he's okay. He's okay! He can do this.

"Hm?" She glances over at him. "Was that you?"

Was…?

Oh. He forgot himself. The rising crooning hum of contentContentment. "Ah," he says, faltering, "um."

"It was cute! It's okay if it was."

Ears hot, he grimaces. "I'm just. Happy. Sometimes it…if I don't have my mantle. My collar. Noise happens."

She pauses for a moment, then squeezes his arm and returns her attention ahead of them. "I won't mention it if you don't want me to, but it's okay if you make noise. I'm glad you're happy! I'm…really glad you're happy," she admits, leaning into him for a moment as they walk. "I think I'm still kind of expecting you to turn around and realize this was all too much and you're actually miserable."

Megamind wrinkles his face. "I don't plan things that would make me miserable."

"I know, I know! But this does seem like something I would enjoy more than something you would."

He frowns harder.

It is true that he chose this outing in part because he thought Roxanne would like it. He approached Bridget yesterday to ask about things to do that might require the use of hiking boots, since Roxanne acted so strange about bringing them and then also mentioned trails around the hotel. But it isn't as though he didn't like this option and chose it against things that he would enjoy! This sounded like fun to him, too! And seeing Roxanne have fun is more than enough to offset the aspects of this that might irk him enough to dissuade him. The sunscreen, for example. The glare of the sunlight, the few flying insects that survived the frost last night. The way Roxanne lit up when he told her where they were going made everything else worth it.

"It is a lot," he finally says. "But I like it. I don't know why. I've read about this area. I never thought I would see it. I am happy to see it."

"Even with the sunscreen?"

"Well I assume the alternative is hats, and THAT'S an obvious non-starter, so yes, even with the sunscreen."

She's laughing now. The bright, high laughter that means he's startled her in a good way.

"I'm serious," he insists, grinning widely, "the only hat that has ever fit me was a novelty sombrero I encountered as a child, and it was the worst thing I have ever put on my head. Very scratchy."

"Oh no," she says, lips still twitching, "oh that's awful. Where on earth did you get that?"

"It wasn't mine. It was in the costume box at Thomas and Claire's house."

Roxanne cocks her head. "Thomas? Claire?"

"Yes! Twins. My friends, when I was in grade school. We had fun."

"Aw!"

"They introduced me to the concept of board games," he says, grinning at the memory, "which was entertaining for a while, but eventually it was determined that we should not play board games with Blue anymore because with Blue they are 'bored' games and he is constantly winning, let's go play outdoors-games instead. That was somewhat more evenly-matched."

"Did you actually like playing outdoors?"

"For the most part. Basketball was fun, I knew from prison. Uncle Ty used to let me ride his shoulders when I was too little to play, and then he started teaching me as soon as I was tall enough to dribble. And I got to try field hockey—Granny suggested that. Claire got very into it, and then of course she needed a goalie to practice against, so I got to do that sometimes! With Thomas on defense." He smiles. "I was useful," he says, allowing his pride to show in his voice. "I am agile and well-coordinated. I was able to suggest techniques and she was able to practice interesting tricks to fake me out. She said I gave her an edge."

"As long as you were also having fun," Roxanne says.

"Oh, I was!" he exclaims. "It was great. I had somewhere to go on the weekends. I think their parents weren't quite sure what to make of me—definitely uncertain at first; my reputation preceded me and I was forever getting Thomas in trouble—but they were okay. Their dad always made sure to have something I could eat if I was staying for dinner."

Roxanne is quiet. When he glances over at her, she looks…pensive? Not unhappy, but…confused, maybe.

"They kept shool from being a living hell," he says. "For a while. They weren't in my core classes in middle sh—school until their mother had Claire transferred into my homeroom. She was having similar difficulties; she asked to be with me. I guess her mom agreed, as long as I behaved. So, that was okay. But then they moved away, and…"

He trails off.

"It was awesome she had her kid transferred to your class, though," Roxanne says. "Holy crap, that was really cool of her to do for Claire. And you."

"I thought so. And we wrote for a while, after they moved."

"Not anymore, though?"

He shrugs. "Eventually they stopped replying."

Evidently he doesn't need to say he still isn't sure what he did wrong there, because Roxanne's fingers tighten on his arm and then relax again, a gentle squeeze. "I doubt it was your fault," she says. "Sometimes people just fall out of touch. Life gets in the way."

He's heard that before. He shakes his head.

"If I was better," he says. "If I wasn't this. I would have stayed important enough if I wasn't so—"

"No."

He looks over at her. His lip is curling away from his teeth at being corrected, but—

Something in her expression stops him. She's not looking at him and her face is tight.

"I know what you mean," she says. "I promise, I do. I feel it, too, the…if I was just better, if I didn't keep doing whatever was wrong, we'd still be fine. Right?"

He nods.

"But, the thing is," she swallows, "that line of thinking leads to this horrible mindset of…well, let me just do what they want, then. Let me try harder, let me figure out how to be enough. Let me make myself be what this person wants. Because if I can just get it right, if I can just cram myself down into the right box…if I can just act right, then they'll be happy with me and everything will be fine. Because obviously, I'm the problem. …It's not true. But it's why I stayed as long as I did."

…Oh.

Megamind rests his hand over hers on his arm.

"Sorry," she says, putting her other hand over his in turn. "I know you probably didn't mean it like that, I just…sorry. My point is, I get it, but trying to make yourself be someone else, for someone else…it'll destroy you."

He sighs. "But that's you, Roxanne. I'm…it's different."

"People aren't as forgiving of you. But that's a reflection on them! Not on you, not—"

"It is absolutely a reflection on me."

Roxanne bites her lips together.

"I never know what's wrong with me," Megamind says. "Not until after the fact, and then only sometimes. I had another friend a little later, Gala…I know what happened there. I don't think I could have changed it, but I do know."

Roxanne hesitates. "You don't have to tell me."

Megamind shrugs. "There isn't much to tell. She made friends with a quiet boy who spoke Russian like a gangster and tried his best to keep his head down. But when he finally put his foot down, instead of his head; when he…started hurting the people who hurt him, and then even just the people who looked at him wrong…that wasn't what she signed up for. The kid who sat behind me in biology put binder clips on my ears and so I broke his knee, and Gala—"

"He put BINDER CLIPS on your EARS?" Roxanne exclaims.

"And so I broke his knee," Megamind says again, flat. "I was not a nice person, Roxanne. I am not a nice person. I became a supervillain for a reason."

She's quiet.

His stomach roils, suddenly; his head swims so badly in the silence that he nearly stumbles. What is he DOING, telling her all this? This is not anything he cares to remember even for himself. This is not anything she will want to be friends with! He very deliberately made himself someone no one would want to be friends with; Roxanne is a miracle; WHY is he jeopardizing this? As if it's nothing! As if she can possibly—

"I mean, I can't really blame you," she says. "I would have wanted to punch his fucking teeth in. Binder clips? What the hell?"

Megamind stares at the ground in front of them, ears ringing.

She. What?

"And this was before you figured out the cyanide thing, too, wasn't it, I bet? So you were a mess. Every kid's a mess at that age, but you? Here? In public school? Yeah, I bet you made sure they thought you were a demon from actual hell. But what other choice did you have? Just lie down and take it? Binder clips, Megamind, jesus christ." She exhales a hard breath, shaking her head in what looks like disgust. "Even just making you GO to public school should constitute a hate crime for someone with your brain, but the bullying on top of that? Ohhh I want to build a time machine so bad…

"Sorry," she says suddenly, "I swear, every time I learn something new about you I gain a whole new revenge fantasy. But! The best revenge is living well, and at least I can show you fun things now." She nods, firm. "At least you can have a good time now. You okay?"

I love you absolutely beyond words, he thinks.

"Don't you ever fall out of touch," he says, dragging a smile onto his lips. Squeezing her hand on his arm, hugging her arm against his side with his elbow. "You're my best friend. You're stuck with me forever."

She splutters into laughter as her cheeks flush pink. "Oh! Well. Likewise. I hope."

Megamind's heart trips on a beat. "You hope."

(It was a risk and he knew it was a risk but he thought—he really thought she wouldn't—he thought he could—)

"Okay bear with me," Roxa says, apologetic.

"Oh no," he groans, to hide the way his soul has just started to shrivel.

"The future is promised to no one and I can't swear anything, but," she continues, before Megamind can figure out how to melt into the earth in shame at having revealed himself so badly that she needs to leave herself an escape route, "I can promise you that if I ever do fall out of touch for some reason, I will feel really, REALLY bad about it."

…Oh.

Right, okay, yes, or she could have meant it literally. About the future. That is technically true. And she is still holding onto him, so.

He barks a relieved laugh, and breathes.

"Seriously, I will feel SO bad. Sorry," she adds again, the second time in as many minutes. "I know, I know how that must have sounded. To you. I'm sorry. I'm just twitchy. You really are definitely one of my best friends too, and I WANT to say likewise, obviously, but," she grimaces hard, "the last person I said 'forever' to kiiiinda threw me down a flight of stairs, so…"

His mouth falls open, and then he glowers. "And you're SURE I can't do a murder on him."

"No murder," she says, but her eyes are twinkling.

"Please? Just a little one! Itsy-bitsy!" He holds up two fingers very close together; Roxanne is laughing now. "He won't even know what hit him!"

"No," she says again. "I mean it, if you kill him I'll be very upset. People deserve chances; he can't improve if he's dead."

Megamind scowls. "How dare your policy of infinite try-agains apply to him too."

"Sorry, Megs, it's across the board. Nothing personal, just policy."

He heaves an enormously overblown sigh. "Oh ALL RIGHT, if you insist."

Then he hesitates. "In all seriousness, though, Roxanne," he adds, remembering what she said about support and talking back when he was in the undertow, "if you ever need an ear…or a, a shoulder, or something, with no plotting of revenge…"

She smiles. "A friend?"

"You do have one."

Her smile grows. Megamind could sing.

"I know I do," Roxanne says. "I'm very lucky to have you."

The sunscreen is more than worth it. The hike down to the overlook doesn't take long; it's honestly just more of a somewhat uneven walk than a hike. And when they get there…

The path was man-made, cut down into the ground who knows how many years ago to curve around a natural bend in the wall of the canyon, and it leads sightseers down to a sort of stone peninsula that extends a good way out from the rest of the canyon wall. The perimeter of this has been fenced off.

So, at the end of the path, the ground opens up into a long concrete pad edged with cliff plants and a couple of enterprising pine trees, and then beyond that is the Grand Canyon. Or, at least, a small and insignificant visible slice of the Grand Canyon.

"Oh, wow!"

Roxanne rushes ahead, into the open air and over to the railing, which she catches with both hands and leans out over with the wind in her hair. And Megamind—

Megamind—

—is trying very very hard to take a mental snapshot of Roxanne leaning on the railing with delight in what he can see of her face and the sun shining red and gold in the dancing strands of her hair, but his attention keeps sliding away to all of the stone everything-nothingspace all around them. He saw it earlier from the plane, of course. But it's different this way.

At the hotel, the mountains break the sky for miles in all directions. In Denver, Megamind saw the rising moon on snow higher above him than he had ever stood in his life. It was magnificent and strange, and the stone's history he declaimed later resonated in his alien bones with a kind of dull ache he can't quite explain. Planning this sightseeing excursion, he was sort of passively expecting that to see the Grand Canyon would be…something like that. Impressive, new. Jarring. And it is.

But it is also jaw-droppingly vast in a way even Megamind could not have imagined without seeing it in person from ground level. Great walls of red and brown stone plunge from the earth to a far horizon as flat as the sea. In the middle stand spires of rock with the same bars of color as the farthest walls, running and rising and falling together, carved apart in the shape of the living water at the bottom. The walls fall close together on either side of the river deep down, but they rise wide apart at sea level with the distance between them an echoing ghost of billions of years of time.

Roxanne is staring wide-eyed around at the gorge as Megamind slowly walks to stand next to her. She glances up, then grins.

"Wow," she says, "I don't think I've ever seen you with your mouth that far open."

He closes it, still staring. His heart inside him is twisting like a caged thing begging to fly. His body has lost its weight.

Roxanne returns her attention to the canyon. "It's like looking at the ocean," she says, wondering. "I don't know how, but…it's so big."

Megamind is quiet.

She leans on her elbows on the rail, enjoying the wind. The smell of…she closes her eyes and tries, but it's just the nothing-smell of fresh air; her nose isn't good enough for anything else. She resumes gazing at the view, grinning at herself in amusement.

After a minute or so, she turns to ask Megamind if he can smell anything, but—pauses, at the look on his face. He still looks as though he's been smacked in the face with a pan. His eyes are so wide; as she watches, an actual tear streaks itself down his cheek and drips onto his shirt. The unbuttoned vee of it is fluttering against his mesh-covered chest in the wind, but the dark spot of water on the fabric matches two similar marks next to it, and one on the other side as well.

"Megamind?" she says, and he jerks. "You doing okay?"

"I, I'm fine," he stammers, blinking, and then blinking harder, focusing on her as his pupils pin down and then blow wide. "What? Ha! Yes, fine! I'm—don't look at me!" He twists away from her, rubbing the sleeves of his skull sweater over his cheeks almost angrily. "I simply forgot to blink. Ha, silly me, yes."

"You sure?"

"I simply forgot to blink!"

"Okay, okay." She looks back out at the canyon. "As long as you're super not actually crying, can I ask if you had anything like this on…wherever you're from? Do you know?"

He snorts. Actually laughs a little; that's surprising. "You can ask. And no, there most definitely was not."

"Really!"

"You seem surprised?"

"Rivers flow pretty much the same everywhere, I would assume."

He moves to stand at her side again, with the wind whipping his sweater around his thin frame. "They do," he agrees. He appears to have either composed himself or gotten over his shock at the view. "Yes, a river is a river anywhere! But you will note that no other rivers have resulted in the formation of anything quite this extreme, even on Earth."

Roxanne is quiet for a few seconds.

Then she says, "Megamind?"

"Hmm?"

"Tell me a story about the rocks?"

He glances over at her with a sort of startled look on his face, and then he snorts and clears his throat. "The rocks! Let me see. Once upon a time," he says, grinning at Roxanne's answering laugh, "volcanic activity in the region formed a thick layer of igneous and metamorphic rock all across the Colorado plateau. And then over that layer there was rain, and the rain brought sediment, and slowly plants evolved and went extinct and evolved, appeared, and rotted, and made more sediment. And there were seas, and then dunes, and seas again, and sediment. Vast marshes, and sediment. And rain, and rain, and rain. And everything together built layers and layers and layers of mud and sand that became stone with time."

Roxanne nods. "And there was a river," she says.

"Not yet."

She cocks her head, and Megamind takes a deep breath and explains. Tectonic activity between seventy and thirty million years ago brought uplift. But instead of building mountains, this much slower collision lifted the whole grand plateau thousands of feet above sea level. And then, only five or six million years ago, the Colorado River began to run its current course.

"Sedimentary rock is quite soft," Megamind says, "comparatively. The river wore it down a little bit, and swept it free. The water sandpapered itself deeper—"

"And that made the canyon?"

"No." He's grinning. The canyon was made by water, he tells her as he gestures with his hands, but it was made by rain, and ice, and the river, all together. The river's downcutting provided a place for erosion to begin (he points out signs of this so Roxanne can see), and between the rains and the river with its long slope and the relative softness of the stone, all of that together is what led the canyon to be as wide as it is. Not the river, but the rain. And ice—

He glances around, and then points at something he's previously only ever seen evidence of in pavement. "There," he says, "see the way that rock is cracked apart? That's from ice wedging. Water freezes in tiny cracks in the stone, and expands when it freezes, and then it thaws."

"And the rain erodes it further, and it crumbles, and the walls widen…" Roxanne glances around. "I guess the story won't be over for a while, then."

"I very much doubt it," Megamind agrees. "It won't be over until the world crumbles. Hopefully not for a long, long time. If there ever was anything like this, where I'm from," he adds, "the ocean filled it in long before I was born."

…The ocean. The ocean? Filled it in?

Crap. Now she has more questions.

Megamind glances over at her, and maybe he sees the way she's biting her lip, because he says, "My planet of origin was much older than this one. And her plate tectonics weren't so tight, which is why I think probably there couldn't have been canyons like this one. The mountains there weren't high to begin with, and then they were worn and eroded down to low hills and marshes. And then in the Shallowing, even those drowned. The seas rose and covered nearly everything."

Roxanne blinks. "You're from a water-world."

He nods.

She looks at him. "We live in Michigan. Have you ever actually seen an ocean?"

"I've seen the lake." He shrugs. "Lake Michigan is like an ocean."

Her jaw drops. "Oh," she exclaims, "no, it is not, it's just big. That's awful! Okay, no, next summer you're coming to the beach with my family—they almost always go in July—and then the summer after THAT, we'll go back to that place in Missouri."

Megamind blinks a couple times, and then his face relaxes into a smile under his big, sparkling eyes. "You're just going to fix my whole life, aren't you?"

"Perks of being my best friend, yes," she says.

Megamind's smile goes goofy-happy just before he turns away and bounces off to the other side of the overlook. "Roxanne come see it from over here! Look, you can almost see the river!"

He is very obviously changing the subject, and Roxanne is happy to let him. She's wildly curious about a million more things, but she wasn't really expecting him to talk about his homeworld at all, and she would have to be exceptionally dim not to notice how jumpy he is about being identified as a friend. He seems happy about it; she's not worried, but. It does seem to weird him out a bit.

Still, she wasn't actually joking, and she's a little surprised at herself for blurting it out. A LOT surprised at herself, considering the fact that she absolutely should have predicted the flare of anxiety currently flip-flopping her stomach—why would you promise something like that? Travel stressful! People stressful! Traveling with people means fewer options means being locked in means you can't leave when you want to! Means no escape route! Walk it back! Apologize and say you didn't actually mean it!

…Where was all this in Missouri? she wonders, startled. But she was sleepy in Missouri, and she knows perfectly well she was just spitballing someday-maybe-would-be-nice plans, then. Not REAL plans. Not telling someone about her family's real actual routine, and then inviting him.

Walk it back, her stomach begs. Oh, my god, don't commit to future plans, are you INSANE?

Roxanne wavers, then sets her jaw.

No. It's fine. It IS fine, she tells herself. Remember, she felt exactly this same way before she left on this trip, and everything is fine. She's having so much fun. Megamind is a safe person to be around. Roxanne is safe with Megamind. He doesn't make her feel small, doesn't make demands or steamroll over her; he wants to know what she wants. He is so careful with her. He is one of her best friends and she wants to travel more with her best friend. Roxanne has never been a person who travels with friends before, but she's going to start. New leaf. Be brave.

She wanders slowly after him, scrolling through her recent photos and marking certain ones, with her heart in her ears and her lip between her teeth. 

Because. She might as well, right? It's going to have to happen at some point. He's her best friend. She is going to bring him traveling with her again. So…

"Roxanne?" He must have turned around to see where she was; his excited voice shifts towards concern as he says, "Oh. Are you all right?"

"Yep! Sorry, one sec, I…um. I need to text my mother some photos and then I need to turn off the ringer on my phone, ha."

"What?" He comes trotting back, waving at her with both hands. Half-laughing in what sounds like startled confusion. "Wh—no! No, she'll only be upset! And then you'll be upset! Why?"

"She can't make me upset, I'm having too much fun!"

"Don't," he says, a note of despair entering his voice. "No, don't. It can wait."

"But I want to," she insists, laughing a little at her own slight whine as she finally looks up at him. "I…o-oh, you're serious."

He's sort of hovering in front of her, uncertain hands up like he wants to take her by the shoulders but can't bring himself to do so. His eyes are wide and fond and there's a helpless smile curving his mouth. "Roxanne," he says, "don't. You can do it later. Another time."

"But if I put it off and I have to do it sometime when you're not here, it'll be worse! And I WANT you to come along and I'm GOING to have to tell her so I might as well just—"

"I'll be here," he says. He hesitates, then carefully lifts her phone out of her fingers. "Of course I'll be here, I didn't say you have to face her alone! Just…not today? Not now." And he reaches around her and slides the little rectangle neatly into her back pocket.

Roxanne stares at him.

"Please?" he says, when she doesn't say anything. "It's a nice day. It's a vacation. We—oof!"

He stumbles a little but his arms come up to catch her as she wraps hers around his shoulders and flops against him.

"Thanks," she sighs, relaxing somewhat. "Okay. Yeah, you're right. I don't have to do it now." She hesitates—wondering—should she step back now? But Megamind squeezes her, and she leans on him harder without really deciding to. "You're sure you won't mind being there for it?"

"Of course not!" He laughs, squeezes harder, leans his head against hers. "Don't be ridiculous. After all, if I'm there, I can easily refute whatever excellent and reasonable points she is bound to make! And it will be harder for her to turn my long-game manipulatory pawn against me!"

Roxanne snorts. "Oh, is that why."

He shrugs. Eyes still bright and sparkling as he lets her go. "Obviously! Please, Miss Ritchi, I'm a supervillain," twirling a wrist and pressing his splayed fingertips to his chest, tossing his head. "You can't ACTUALLY believe I care."

"You know, a few years ago maybe I would have fallen for that?"

"Oh, and what changed?"

"Found you crying in my shower."

His mouth falls open, and then he glares. "You—excuse you! We agreed we would pretend that didn't happen!"

She bursts into giggles at the huffy pout he's wearing as he folds his arms back over his chest again. "Excuse me? 'We' agreed no such thing!"

"It was implied!"

Still trying and failing to compose herself, she heads for the railing where Megamind had been standing before, and turns around and leans against the bar there. "Let's see. I found you crying in my shower, and you cured my flu, and now you come over to my place and you are literally the most chill about just existing there while I do my thing, but you also let me freak out all over you about family stuff the one time, and you always make time for me and Minion to hang out before you kick off your silly plots, and you played video games with me when I was stressed even though you're really, really bad at them…"

"Lies! Slander! None of that happened!"

"You called in a bird I wanted to see, and you found us a nice breakfast…"

"No!"

"And you took me to see a silly tourist trap just because I never got to see it when I was a kid, and you taught me how to fly your cool plane, and you were really nice when I almost crashed it…"

"I was not nice!"

"You're laaaaughinnggg…"

"So are you! This means nothing!" He is laughing, but his cheeks and ears are very hot and he can feel himself almost vibrating with frenetic energy. His heart is hammering at his ribs like it's trying to free itself. "This means nothing! I'm not laughing! No!"

"You called me your best friend. You let me sleep in your bed!"

"I lied! I am evil! Very mean and evil!"

"You let me cuddle!"

He looks around, then grabs the hem of his enormous sweater in both hands and pulls it out straight. "Look! Skulls!"

Roxanne wheezes into a peal of laughter so hard it bends her forward. The wind picks up and pulls Megamind's sweater out of his hands, and he heaves an enormous, theatrical sigh and rolls his eyes.

"Fine, fine," he grumbles as he stalks forward to lean on the railing at Roxanne's side and stare out into the canyon. "Well. Just don't go telling everyone."

"I wouldn-I wouldn't dream of it. Ahhh." She wipes her eyes, still giggling a little bit. "You're not actually mad at me, are you?"

"Oh, furious." But he hasn't bothered to banish his own smile, or try to glare really at all anymore, so when she hums and elbows him gently, he just chuckles and accepts it. "Here," he says, "selfye time, and I'll make the worst possible face to send to your mother, and you can send it when we get home and have an afternoon set aside for fighting and fireworks." If you still like me at that point, which…it's terrifying to consider, but he is starting to think she actually might. If he hasn't managed to frighten her off yet, with all his meltdowns and tantrums and nightmares and weeping, then…maybe?

She hugs him so easily now. She puts her hands on him so easily. She leans on him. He told her what he thought of this morning and she still hugged him just now; she draped herself against his chest and sighed and he felt her relax. He put his arms around her and he felt her relax.

And what happens next is, Roxanne steps partly in front of him so Megamind is looming over her shoulder. He hops up to sit on the railing to give himself some extra height (she makes him hook his ankles around the support bars despite his assurance that he is leaning forward and thus will not fall), and Roxanne leans back against him—

"Here, knees apart, and put—put your arm around—"

"Like this?"

"No, like this, she'll hate this," taking his wrist and drawing his arm across her collarbones so he folds his bony fingers around her opposite shoulder.

And then she lifts her phone. Megamind dons his best leering scowl, sticks his tongue out as far as he can and puts a curl in it, and uses the middle finger of his free hand to pull down his lower eyelid as he glares into the camera. Which of course sets Roxanne right off again, startled and cackling, so she does also get a picture of Megamind with one arm around her and his other hand messing her hair, leaning on her and beaming so hard his eyes are nearly shut. It's adorable and he would be so embarrassed; she doesn't show him that one.

Megamind slides back down to the ground and they grab a few more pictures, and then finally Roxanne's alarm bloops at them.

"You're fun," she tells Megamind, probably not for the first time, as they head back up the trail. "It's been a while since I've been friends with someone who was willing to actually, you know, horse around and goof off with me. It's nice."

"Aha," he says. "Yes. I forget, humans don't…touch, as much as I—"

"It varies by culture, actually."

He pauses. "Oh?"

"Definitely not a 'human' thing." She glances at him. "Was it different for…?"

Blinking, he says, "I suppose I don't know. I was only on the surface for eight days. My father's culture seemed much more contact-heavy than here, but my—my mother's? My—egg-parent's? Minion was never really clear on that. But I don't know. I hatched in my father's family's…I think the best translation might be capture-pool."

"They were from different cultures?"

"My egg-parent's people followed the summer. They were nomadic, migratory. They're why I can shift my metabolism between freshwater and salt. And why I have such purpley-pinky undertones," glancing skeptically at his hands, "according to Minion."

Roxanne pauses, blinking. "As…as opposed to…?"

"I think my father was a little more on the green side. And I remember some other people who were fully indigo. Some relatives or other."

"Were the—sorry," she realizes, because he took a moment to respond just then, "is it okay for me to ask? I don't…I'm curious. But we can talk about something else, if…"

Megamind pauses, then shrugs. "I don't mind. You can ask. You have until we get back to the hotel, and then I am getting in the shower and washing this garbage off my skin!"

Chapter Text

By the time Roxanne is able to flop onto her bed later that afternoon and start taking notes on what she can remember, her head is spinning. Megamind had seemed a little bit hesitant for a while, but she was genuinely interested in hearing what he could remember and what Minion's told him over the years, and finally he seemed to relax.

He told her of the event many of the singing peoples referred to as the Shallowing, when the moon that was ice plunged through the planet's higher atmosphere and fell into the sea. It melted there, as the tides seethed in unfamiliar patterns under the pull of only one moon and two suns, and drowned the land. The punktak at the surface were able to slow its fall so that it was not a collision on par with the Chicxulub impact on Earth, but the impact still shivered the planet. It closed most of the nutrient-rich hydrothermal fissures and vents in the deepest dark and opened new fissures with no life in them yet, and the punktsil of the deep, the teeth of the seafloor, were freezing, starving. Grieving the living mineral structures they had built and tended over hundreds of thousands of years, that crumbled and fell to ruin at the Shivering. And at the surface, the people of the shallowed land were burning under the sun and starving as well, struggling to survive on boats and whatever they could cobble together that would float long-term. Most of them had already lived in close connection with the sea, but never like this.

("Punktak?" Roxanne said. "Punktsil? I thought your language was mostly whistling."

Megamind shrugged. "Glautian had more words you can pronounce," he said. "You might as well."

"What did your parents call themselves?"

"In my father's language, they were," he thripwhistled, "and in my egg-parent's," another thripwhistle, a little bit different.

"Similar dialects?"

"I don't know. Maybe. Minion's people were," a low, pulsing buzz, rising, "in both languages. The…teeth of the seafloor, or something like that? It was one of their terms for the mineral chimneys that grew around the hydrothermal vents."

"But the punktak didn't have a…?"

Another shrug. "Does human translate to anything? You don't call yourselves two-legs."

It was a fair enough point.)

Minion wasn't sure of the precise origin of the Binding, Megamind said. Both of their species found themselves stronger for it, but they first came together in desperation to survive. Relatively recently, too—which made sense, Roxanne pointed out, if the word to refer to them was still the same across several languages. Not very recently, but less than a thousand years. 

The punktsil evolved in areas of high radiation. The root of the food chain at the surface was sunlight and photosynthesis, the same as it is on Earth, but the seafloor's food chain was built on radiosynthetic and chemosynthetic bacteria. The punktsil—as well as many of the other deep-sea species on Punkt—developed the ability to hold their genomes steady deliberately. To force genetic expression and repression as they chose. So, when they met the punktak in dire straits after the Shallowing, the Shivering, they proposed an arrangement that would allow members of both species to live at shallow depths, under the water: to bind, and rearrange the bodies of the punktak and give them some of the adaptations of Punkt's larger fishes, to breathe and swim underwater. To bind, and study the structures of punktak bodies and eyes, and then rearrange their own to live in the bright shallows at the surface. It would alter the bound punktak, loosen their cellular growth patterns; they would need the punktsil to monitor them and hold them steady. And the bound punktsil would require protection and opportunities to build. Binding would not be a once-and-done encounter; it would be a partnership for life. 

Not everyone entered the Binding. Many punktsil refused depressurization and remained in the deep to rebuild according to the ways they knew, around the new vents. Some punktak refused the gills and other alterations, and sought refuge on what very little dry ground remained of the shallowed land. But most joined forces and came together rather than risk dying alone. The punktak opened their gills to the water, and the punktsil opened their eyes to the sun.

What no-one expected was that the Binding would allow their respective brains to fully integrate symbiotically and specialize.

The punktsil were methodical, goal- and resource-oriented, step-by-step thinkers and builders, weavers of stone. With their Bonded punktak suddenly taking on the bulk of their abstract reasoning and building assistive technology to protect and support the punktsils' bodies—surviving now but still fragile without the weight of the deep above them—they were able to throw themselves into much speedier cultivation of bigger habitats atop the shallow water than the slow-growing vents of the deep could support. And the punktak were already brilliant engineers, but with their working memory and resource assessment and task ordering suddenly handled by their Bonded punktsil, their minds were free to move leaps and bounds faster and farther intellectually than ever before.

Megamind and Roxanne stopped for lunch at a Mexican restaurant southwest of Zion National Park, in Utah. The food was fantastic, but neither of them paid too much attention. Megamind was alight and gesturing with both hands, and Roxanne was eager to hear more.

"The habitats floated," she said. "Did they move?"

They did not, he replied. They were anchored among the great reefs that unbound shallow-depth punktsil grew and cultivated in the upper ruins of the drowned world.

Over lunch, Megamind told Roxanne what he knew of his father's sprawling family, who managed the pseudo-beaches on their particular habitat. They managed the beaches, they monitored and tended the small, delicate ecosystems of the tidal wrack lines and pools. He also told her of his egg-parent's people, who sailed from freshwater spring to freshwater spring, following the summer in fleets of narrow ships with painted sails.

His father was a diplomat, Megamind said. Probably that was how he met his partner. 

"Could he swim in freshwater?" Roxanne asked, and Megamind shrugged.

"I don't know. Probably for a little while, but he would have needed to swim in salt for a while afterwards if he didn't want his gills bleeding."

She told him how cool she thinks it is that he's able to switch his own metabolism the way he can, and Megamind sort of laughed and agreed. She asked, only half-jokingly, if Minion could give her gills, too.

"Not easily," Megamind said. "Maybe not at all. The first gills were introduced generations before our time; I was born with mine. Modification to that degree is not Minion's specialty. And you would need to bind with him in order to manage it, and I don't know if human genetics are compatible with his capabilities." He paused for a while, and they finished eating while talking about lighter things.

But he did admit, as they left, that Minion probably would at least consider trying to give Roxanne gills if she asked him to.

"He's quite adept at moving me around when my body starts growing in ways it shouldn't. And he is…terribly fond of you, you know," Megamind said. "He thinks very highly of you."

"Aw," Roxanne replied, touched. "That's sweet of him. I like him too, obviously. Minion's great."

Genetic and physical modification sounds like an intuitive process, she writes now in her little book. Not a technical one. Very neat!

The sound of the bathroom fan flares louder as the door opens and Megamind steps out. "What are you scribbling?"

"Oh, just notes," Roxanne says vaguely, "stuff about today." She looks up, then starts laughing. "Why are you wearing a turban?"

He's wearing his black jeans again, plus a loose dark gray tee shirt with what appears to be a skeleton covered in flowers printed on it…and one of the hotel's fluffy white towels wrapped up neatly around his enormous head. He scowls at her. "This is what's done after a shower that is not in prison," he tells her, "but here, fine," and he reaches up with both hands and tips his head forward and tosses the whole thing at her face.

"Hey!" Roxanne yelps with laughter and claws her way free of the damp terrycloth. "You butthead."

Laughing, Megamind trots past and tosses himself down onto his own bed, then rolls onto his back with a sigh. "Ahh. Oh, that is so much better," he groans. "No more horrible sunscreen dustpowder on my skin, hooray."

She laughs a little. He'll have to wear sunscreen if he's going to come to the beach, she thinks, but maybe there will be time before then to find a brand he doesn't find as offensive?

And…dammit, there's that anxiety again! Ugh. She snarls at herself internally and shoves it away, asks, "What time were you thinking about going to dinner?"

"Maybe six or so?" He stretches, then rises again to fetch his tablet.

"Can you grab my laptop while you're up?"

"Mm."

Which is how Roxanne ends up hanging out in companionable silence with Megamind for a few hours while they both work in a very limited capacity. She distracts herself from her twisty nerves by checking her email, and by the time she's finished replying to the few time-sensitive items, she is feeling a lot better. She reads through a couple others, then snorts and tells Megamind that apparently there's some rumor going around that she's romantically involved with her cameraman. Her boss is asking about it.

"Now I have to figure out how to explain that Hal is just a weirdo who acts like we're together without getting him in trouble." She rolls her eyes. "This is getting really old."

"Get him in trouble, then," says Megamind without looking up from where he's drawing on his tablet with an electric stylus. "I don't think I have ever heard you say anything good about the man."

"He's a solid cameraman," she sighs. "Really good with sound work, too. He's just…ugh."

"Surely there are other videographers you could work with?"

"I suppose."

He glances over at her. "If he treats you badly, don't work with him. I do not see what is difficult about this. You are one of KMCP's top anchors; your face is front and center on multiple billboards coming into town. You are worth a better coworker than a 'weirdo' who tells everyone he's secretly dating you, or," he waves vaguely, "whatever it is he's doing."

Roxanne doesn't want to think Hal is going that far, but…that is what it sounds like, from Carl's email.

When she doesn't say anything, Megamind says, "It sounds like he is escalating an existing pattern of poor behavior. If he hurts you…"

"He's not going to hurt me," she exclaims, shocked. "He's an ignoramus, yeah, but he's harmless."

Megamind shrugs. "I'll take your word for it. But I have taken steps to ensure I am legally permitted to avenge any harm that befalls you in several villainously-recognized territories. Including Metrocity. Perhaps make him aware of that, upon our return."

"You what, sorry?"

"I am a supervillain! You asked me to protect you!" He waves a hand. His ears are pink. "It's not important," he insists, probably in response to Roxanne's incredulous stare. "My point is simply—you should not have to deal with such nonsense. At all. Let alone from your cameraman, with whom you must work daily. Use me as a threat; it's what I'm for! You deserve better."

She sighs and shakes her head. "Yeah, I know. But I feel bad! He's honestly fine, he's just annoying."

"Annoying is not fine. Use Metro Man as your excuse; that's what he's for."

She wrinkles her nose. "Now YOU'RE annoying."

"Suit yourself," and he goes back to his work.

Roxanne stares at her mostly-blank email draft, the blinking cursor.

Then she scowls.

Actually. Actually. You know what. If she has a fucking supervillain telling her she shouldn't put up with this, then no, she probably shouldn't. This wouldn't be the first time she's used Megamind as an unknowing litmus test this way, and he didn't steer her wrong last time either.

She moves her hands to the keyboard.

I'm not sure what exactly Hal is telling people, but we aren't dating and never have. He has repeatedly expressed interest in me, but it's entirely one-sided. My boyfriend trusts me and I have refrained from 'tattling' in the interest of being a team player and a good sport, but if Hal is escalating to the point where he's starting rumors in my absence, please forward me whatever details you are able so I can be informed when I contact HR upon my return. I may also request that he be reassigned, but I understand that this may not be accomplished overnight. We can discuss on Tuesday.

And, thinking about it…yeah, if Roxanne were describing Hal to herself before she took this job, she probably would be at least a little bit creeped out. She's used to him, he's fine. It's not like she's ever felt unsafe getting into the news van with him, or anything. But he's still obnoxious, and this is getting out of hand. She does deserve better than this.

"Okay," she says, hitting Send before she can change her mind, "I've asked for more facts. If there's any documentation, I'll send it along to our human resources people."

Megamind's mouth curves into a smile. "Good," he says. "You are kind, but kindness has to stop somewhere."

Megamind wears his same tee shirt to dinner, but throws a slightly warmer long-sleeved thing on underneath it. The flowery-skeleton shirt is not what Roxanne would choose for a restaurant, but it is made of a very fluttery fabric that appears to be mostly cobwebs and unicorn hair and it does move well on Megamind's slender frame, even if the cut is informal. Between the fabric and his spiked vambraces and gloves, and his eyeliner…

"You look fine," she assures him. "Very 'autumn goth.' Do you want something to dress up the neckline?"

He cocks his head. "Did you have anything in mind?"

"Yeah, here…" It only takes her a moment to disentangle the necklace she was thinking of from the rest of her jewelry, and then she holds it up so he can see. "Bubble necklace?"

Black spheres of glass are strung into a sort of complicated bib formation, set to ride high on the chest. They vary somewhat in size, but all of them are quite large.

"Hm," Megamind says, and takes it from her. Holds it up and blinks down at himself, then nods and fastens it behind his neck. "Oh. I do like that," he says. "It's a good weight."

"It looks really nice with the rest of what you're wearing," Roxanne says, completely honestly. She's opted for something a little more dressy this evening—a garnet-red sweater tucked into one of her favorite pencil skirts, and flats rather than Minion's boots. Flashy earrings, though. "Okay! Shall we?"

He bobs his head and slips their room key into his pocket, then holds the door for Roxanne to exit.

"I swear, someday we'll stay somewhere with an elevator," she jokes as they head down the stairs to the lobby. "I don't mind stairs, but I am kind of surprised this place doesn't have a lift."

"Maintenance is expensive," Megamind points out. "And repairs might be difficult this far from anywhere and this high up. It's only three floors."

"True. Still, I'm not sure if…"

She trails off and stops walking.

They've hit the lobby, where a bored-looking man in a red pharmacist's coat checking in at the front desk across the room has caught her eye. He's currently blinking down at the phone he's holding in his heavily-gloved hand while whoever at the desk checks the computer. It looks like Bridget's shift hasn't started yet; there's a different person there; Roxanne can't quite make them out, but…well, she isn't really focusing on them.

Megamind cocks his head at her. The stranger's clothes are not what he would call understated, but neither are they flashy. Red coat, black gloves and boots, black lab goggles pushed up on his forehead messing his blond hair.

"Roxanne?"

"Yeah, sorry, one sec." She starts moving again, but she's still staring.

A couple seconds later, the stranger sort of sighs and drops his phone into one of the pockets of his coat, and straightens, looks around—

Roxanne gasps in confirmed recognition. "Oh! Billy!"

"Hm?" He turns—sees Megamind—blinks—and then his eyes flick to Roxanne rushing forward.

"Oh—Meg—wait, Roxie?"

"Aaa! It's you! Hi!" She drops her purse easily onto one of the lobby's leather chairs as she passes and then flings herself into his arms for a hug, sending him staggering backwards a couple steps as he bends to meet her, huffing with shocked laughter.

He is quite tall, and Roxanne threw her arms around his shoulders. After a second, he kind of bites his lip around a fierce little grin and wraps his own arms around her back and lifts her, making her squeak, and then he spins in a circle so she laughs before he puts her down.

"Aw! Ha ha," running her hands down his arms and tugging at the fabric of his coat as she steps back, "well, look at you! You look great!"

"Thanks, you—do also look great, too; you ah, you cut your hair? It—looks good! It looks good. That way. …Ah. Hello," as Megamind approaches as well, with Roxanne's purse on his arm.

"Megamind! This is Dr. Horrible," Roxanne says, beaming. "Old friend from school. Lab partner, ex-boyfriend, whatever. Dr. Horrible, this is Megamind, obviously."

"Ah? Yes, pleasure," and he sticks out an awkward hand, which Megamind shakes. "And, and he's—? Your…"

"Bodyguard," Megamind says, just as Roxanne says, "Friend! We roadtripped—well, yes, bodyguard, but also friend. We made it a road trip, it's been a lot of fun. Oh, you grabbed my purse for me, thank you!"

"Good, that's. Good," Horrible says, fidgeting with his gloves as Megamind hands Roxanne's purse back to her, "um. So, tomorrow. We'll. Sit together?"

"I imagine so," she agrees, "I'd be surprised if Sheila had us sitting apart. It'll be so nice to catch up! But we're heading out for now, and I imagine you're tired, so—tomorrow!"

"Tomorrow," he agrees. "Yes. Have, have a good time. See you," and he turns stiffly away as Roxanne shrugs her bag onto her shoulder and slips her arm through Megamind's and tugs him away with a wave.

"Have you met him before? You'll like him," Roxanne promises, "he's brilliant. Weird politics, but science-wise, he's great. I bet you'll find loads to talk about."

"You were together," Megamind says, and she laughs.

"Barely. We dated for probably less than a month. Like I said, he's got some pretty bizarre politics. He's an anarcho-totalitarian."

He blinks. "How does that work?"

"I don't know! He seems really convinced, but it never made any sense to me. That's one of the reasons we broke up. That and he's way too misanthropic. I was kind of hoping it'd be one of those 'opposites attract' things; a 'the grumpy one and the ray of sunshine' relationship, but honestly? It was just really irritating. Maybe if he was also an optimist, but he isn't."

"Oh, so JUST grumpy, then."

"Pretty much. We were just way better as friends."

"Mm."

"Anyway! Where are we going for dinner?"

Later, removing her jewelry and getting slowly into her pajamas in the hotel bathroom, Roxanne is sighing at herself.

It was a lovely evening. The whole day, really, was wonderful. She had imagined she would probably be on her own exploring the area on their free day; Megamind would of course want to stay inside and recuperate from traveling. Maybe she would feel the same, she wasn't sure. But then instead, a trip to the Grand Canyon, and lunch. Some relaxing downtime in the room, and then into Las Vegas for food…

Dinner was spectacular. The Oyster Bar in the Palace Station Hotel and Casino was above and beyond what Roxanne had been hoping for when Megamind said he found seafood. The place obviously had a heavy focus on shellfish, but their true specialty, Roxanne was surprised to discover, was soup and soup-adjacent dishes. Gumbo and jambalaya, bouillabaisse and cioppino and étouffée. Limited seating around a shining bar offered clear views of the cooking process: massive tureens of stock simmered behind the counter and patrons could order to their preference and watch as fresh seafood was prepared and added to portions of the bases of the requested soup in steel bowls. Roxanne was not shy about gorging herself on oysters and bouillabaisse, and she very much enjoyed watching Megamind's introduction to fresh marine seafood. One of the older chefs noticed him immediately—hard not to; even in Las Vegas, Megamind stands out—and approached to inquire about his preferences, and Megamind, stammering, tried to explain that he wasn't sure.

"He's basically a merman from space," Roxanne finally said, laying a hand on his arm to silence him. His elbows were pinned to his sides and his shoulders were halfway to his ears. "But he's never actually seen the ocean here; we're from Michigan. It's a travesty, please help."

"Oh, terrible!" The older gentleman nodded and flashed them a smile. "We'll find something for you, I'm sure. Let's try…"

Roxanne is pretty sure Megamind tried probably more than twenty different kinds of fish and mollusk over the course of the evening. A little of everything, their chef said early on, and he meant it. He threw together sauces and drizzles here and there in measuring spoons, whipped up tiny tasting bites for Megamind to try while Roxanne enjoyed her soup, and he laughed and laughed as Megamind regaled him with slightly-embellished tales of his fights with Metro Man (Roxanne mostly refrained from correcting him. Mostly).

They tipped him very well and left the place full of good fish and buzzing with cheer and the casino's excitement. "I'm surprised you didn't want to stay and count cards," Roxanne teased as they left, and Megamind—without appearing to really think about it—replied that of course he didn't; he wanted to be able to come back.

And then he was quiet for a while. Until Roxanne steeled herself and admitted that someday she wants to return, too. There's so much to do here, so much they aren't seeing. They could take a week in Las Vegas, and then do a week in the surrounding area. Come earlier in the year and do white-water rafting in the canyon.

"I can make our Magic Shoes run faster, I'm sure," Megamind told her then. "I've already thought of a couple ways. We could travel more quickly—I'm sure I could do eight hours, if that was all there was; I wouldn't LIKE it but I could DO it. And then we could see more things, in less time."

"That would be amazing," Roxanne said. "I really did enjoy the last couple days, don't get me wrong. But it's not quite what I'm used to."

He nodded. "I'll do that, then. Make her faster."

In the bathroom now, washing her face and removing her makeup, Roxanne shakes her head at herself.

The spike of anxiety that hit after her earlier comment about bringing Megamind and Minion to the beach with her next summer had not surprised her, exactly. What surprised her was that she couldn't figure out where it was coming from. She assumed, planning this trip, that she was simply worried about whether her companion would have a good time—and that was some of it. Definitely. Thankfully that has turned out not to be an issue, and he certainly hasn't been a pain to travel with. But there, at the canyon, thinking about the beach next year…

There was the strangest feeling of being trapped. A fear of being stuck with no way out, no option to leave. Roxanne has never thought of herself as being someone who needs to escape, but she felt another flicker of the same worry when Megamind told her he could upgrade their ship. And it was bothering her when she thought of it again earlier this afternoon, too!

Is it him? she wonders, mystified. Is she overtaxing herself on his behalf? She hadn't thought she was doing that…

…No, she decides, after considering that for a few moments and then trying to imagine bringing her friend Jo to the beach with her. No, it's not Megamind. There's a very similar worry with Jo.

Crap. It's good to know she's not stressing about Megamind specifically, but at least that would have been an answer.

She rubs moisturizer into her skin, and brushes her teeth, and then she gathers up her clothes and her jewelry and steps out into the room to put her things away before bed.

"Hey," she says, before she can chicken out. The drawer of the bureau thumps as she opens it. "I'm struggling and I don't know why."

Eyebrows rising, Megamind glances up from where he was frowning down in the direction of the tablet he's holding…and then he lays his tablet down in his lap and fully lifts his head. His stylus was already sitting untouched on the table next to him; hopefully this means Roxanne isn't interrupting his train of thought too badly?

"You remember earlier today," she says, tucking her clothes away. "When I mentioned next summer. Going to the beach with you guys."

"Yes?"

There is a small clik from the box she uses to carry her smaller jewelry when she travels as she opens it to arrange her necklace and earrings. She doesn't actually need to arrange them—the box is hinged, and lined with velveteen, but it doesn't have hooks or pockets. Her jewelry just slides around loose; none of what she brings traveling is nice enough for her to really worry about, or she would wrap it in tissue. But she tugs her necklace straight, anyway. Fiddles with the chain.

"I meant that," she says.

Megamind is quiet.

Roxanne rolls the chain of her necklace against the velveteen. Pokes at one of her earrings. Picks up one of her other necklaces to start untangling it.

Her face is too hot. This is so stupid.

"And, um," she says, and swallows, "I guess I'm kind of freaking out. Now."

"About what?"

"I don't know," she says. "I don't know! I just…I meant it. And then I felt weird about it afterwards, but we started doing other things and I stopped thinking about it. So I thought it was fine. But I was thinking about it again in the bathroom just now, and now I'm—I realized I'm stressing again. About the whole travel thing. And I don't," she tugs a third necklace free and squints at the chain, "know why. I'm upset. Not with you. I don't know why I'm upset. I felt trapped?"

She glances up in time to see him recoil. His handsome face was already serious, but now his dark brows pull together in what looks like concern. "I don't have to go along," he says.

"No, I know that, I—but I meant it! I want—I meant it. This is so stupid," she forces a laugh and scrubs her wrist across her eyes, embarrassed, "I don't know what's wrong with me, I didn't think I was going to start crying at you! Sorry. I'm sorry, this is ridiculous."

Megamind says, after a moment, "You…don't travel with people. If you can avoid it."

"I know, but that's the thing! I'm having fun! I like traveling with you, I've told you! I meant that too, that's why this is so stupid—"

"No, I mean," he tries, "there is, I assume, a reason for you not to travel with people?"

Roxanne shrugs. "They stress me out. I don't know."

"Why?"

"I don't KNOW, I just SAID."

He's quiet again. Frowning. His eyes flick—from Roxanne, to the door—to the bed, the balcony—to the middle distance—

"Don't even actually know what I'm expecting you to do about it," Roxanne adds. "I know you don't really do feelings. But I promised I'd tell you if I was stressed about something, so."

He's nodding. "When you talked about returning to that place in Missouri with us both," he says, "later, with your family. Your aunt and uncle, your cousins. Did you feel trapped then?"

"No. But that was just…it wasn't attached to an actual existing plan, you know? I do still want to, but it felt less real. I think."

"Hmm," he says, looking doubtful.

She cocks her head at him.

"Remove your aunt's family. If it was just us and Minion and your parents and brother, what then? Better or worse?"

"Um." She pauses again and considers this for a moment. She can't say for sure, but the way the back of her neck goes hot and her stomach twists aren't good signs. "…Huh. Yeah, I think that is worse, actually."

"But," he says, now laying his darkened tablet fully aside and getting to his feet, "you want Minion and me to come with you, next year. To the beach. Yes?"

"Yes," she exclaims. She has to try not to falter back a step at how low his brows are, at how thin his downturned mouth is. "Yes, that's what I've been saying! I, I want to do that, I meant it when I said it, I just—"

"Like you wanted to go to the twine?"

Roxanne stops and feels her face slacken with genuine surprise.

Oh.

Okay so apparently Megamind does do feelings.

She stares at him, at once stunned at how quickly he worked that out and dismayed that there was anything to work out at all.

"Well," he says in response to her unasked question, and his eyes are still hard but his tone is almost unbearably gentle, "I know you."

"Oh for pete's sake," Roxanne says, and feels her whole face flush and scrunch down hard despite her best efforts.

Goddammit. Fuck. Great! THAT'S probably going to take a while to unpack, considering she had barely any idea it was even this much of a thing. She had thought the twine thing would be a one-off. Apparently not!

There is a soft footstep beside her. A soft footstep, and then a light touch on her arm, and Roxanne slaps her fidgety jewelry onto the bureau and shoves her face down into the space between the side of Megamind's neck and her own shoulder where she's wrapped both arms around him.

"Ughhhgh," she groans, embarrassed and muffled, as Megamind hugs her. She drags her fingers against him. "I'm sorry to go making this your problem."

"Quite all right."

"It's not," she exclaims, yanking herself up and staring at him, agitated. "It's not! What is this? I'm in my thirties! I'm so over this crap—"

"No."

"But—"

"No." He jostles her a little. "You're kind to me," he says. "Be kind to you. Stop…stop being mean to my friend."

"I'm not being mean—"

"You are! You," and then he blinks, and then suddenly it's Minion's voice coming out of his mouth, sharp, "you're ashamed and now you're wallowing in it! Knock it off!"

Roxanne's mouth is open. She's staring at him in shock.

He gulps. Offers her a flash of a very uncertain smile. "It. Sounds better, coming from him? I hope?"

All she can think is, you didn't have to show me that. Because Megamind can only mimic things he's heard.

She can't handle him looking at her like this. She goes back to hugging him instead. Because. Also. He's not wrong. And Roxanne is so fucking lucky to have him as a friend and Roxanne is so fucking mad that this was necessary and Roxanne is not really crying now, exactly, but her throat is tight and her breathing is uneven because Lucky and Angry is a confusing combination.

"Thanks," she says, in spite of this. "You're…right. I don't know why I'm even so embarrassed. I'm being silly."

"Same reason you're worried about next year, I would think," he says, patting her. "You don't know what to do when you can't pretend you're okay anymore."

…Jesus. Okay. Just read her for filth then, what the hell.

"For what it is worth," he offers while Roxanne is still reeling, "I…do prefer this reaction to the one I usually see, which is mostly angry yelling."

She gives a damp sort of snort. Nods.

Megamind stands, holding her, aching. Part of him cannot help but feel as though this is his fault, somehow; Roxanne is upset and she is with him and she MUST therefore be upset with him…but she said she wasn't. She said she wasn't, and he doesn't WANT to think she is, and she is crying on him rather than at him. So he just stands and holds her and tries not to snarl about her parents.

At least this is a welcome distraction from what he had been trying to not to lose himself thinking about after Roxanne went into the bathroom. He had sat down to maybe keep working, and promptly stalled out. Because that was the chair where he sat last night while they were talking to Minion. And…after all of how lovely today was…

No. No. He is holding Roxanne. He is not going down that road again right now.

Finally she sniffs hard and mumbles, "Wow. I hate this reaction, I'm…really sorry, again," and Megamind whickers at her in his chest without really thinking about it, croons a descending comfortComfort along his spine and lifts a careful hand to the back of her head.

"May I make a conjecture," he says. She nods, and slowly, he dares to slide his fingers into her softsoft hair. "I am not exactly Mister Well-Traveled," he says. "But it seems to me…traveling alone would allow you to do what you want, easily, without thinking about it. It seems to me," he says, noting the way her tension eases as he combs up through her hair with his hand, "that traveling with other people must naturally involve a certain…hmm, relinquishing of the freedom to do as you please."

Megamind does not need to be well-traveled to recognize a fellow prisoner. Even one whose prison is constructed internally.

She shudders a sigh and turns her head a little, and he pauses, but she isn't pulling away. Just shifting so her temple is on his shoulder. "Yes, but that's normal," she says. "To have to compromise. It's normal. I don't know why I'm so—"

"But you aren't accustomed to compromise." He resumes moving his fingers through her hair. "You are good at it," he says, in response to her small sound of confused offense. "You are a good traveling companion. But I think you are accustomed to traveling with people who do not care what you want."

She sniffs. "They cared," she protests, "no, they did care, we—I guess I've only talked about the annoying things? But, but there were nice things too, we did stuff me and Drew wanted—"

"When what you wanted fit within the bounds of what they wanted, I assume."

"They were my parents," she says, despairing as she lifts her head, "of course we followed their plans, of course we—"

Megamind hardens his voice. "Of course?"

"—huh?"

"Why is that of course." He shakes his head and doesn't bother to hide his scowl. "Why is that so much of an 'of course' that the idea of doing something they don't want to do has you in tears."

She's quiet, frowning.

"I suspect," he says, "that for you, traveling with people has historically meant far more of a loss of autonomy than is probably normal."

"Oh." And then she sort of startles, and her brows disappear under her bangs, and to his surprise, she says, "OH!" and starts laughing. "Oh—and! And I was never really allowed to bring friends along on trips with me as a kid. Drew wasn't either. Family trips were family trips, we never really…so, maybe that's also some of this?

"Okay," she says, "so it's, it's…I want to bring you, but that's not something that fits my family's usual thing, and…I'm not used to being allowed to do things?" She takes a step back and drops one hand to her hip as she gestures wildly at nothing with the other. "What the heck? I am fully an adult! And I KNOW I'm allowed to do my own stuff now; I've done that! On vacations with them, even! So then WHY is this…"

"Was it easy for you?" He shakes his head. "Yes, you've done your own thing, but was it stressful? Did you have to call yourself silly?" He scowls and pokes a very gentle finger against the top of her chest. "Because you did that again just now, Miss Ritchi, don't think I didn't notice."

Roxanne wavers. "Well…"

"Breaking from what others expect is fraught," Megamind says flatly. He learned these lessons young. "If what you want doesn't fit, you are made to feel small for it. And I do not fit with what they expect, and you can't fix that. So. It is going to be a fight."

Roxanne groans and drops her forehead briefly onto his shoulder again, then straightens and finally turns away. "Oh, whatever," she sighs, heading for the kleenex box on the nightstand and plopping onto her bed to sit. "I don't care about a fight. It was bound to happen at some point; you're part of my life and I'm keeping you. If it's a fight, I'll fight it." She blows her nose, then says, "And if they forbid you from coming, we'll just go to the beach by ourselves, the three of us. It'll be fine. It'll be fine."

Megamind twitches a frown in spite of his internal squeal of glee at I'm keeping you. She still seems…off.

"Well," he finally says, "it might be a fight with them, but it won't be a fight with me. I can give you that, at least."

She cocks her head at him from behind a tissue. He opens his mouth to speak—cuts himself off on reflex—

And then he scowls and forces his teeth to unclench. Even if it is unsafe to say, even if it is, she was crying on his shoulder about this and he can cope. "I care what you want. I will disavow it if accused, and to hell with you for making me admit it," he pushes warm amusement into his voice despite his pounding heart and the screaming in the back of his mind; Roxanne manages a slightly-startled damp laugh in response, "but if you are stressed, we will leave. If you are unhappy, we will do something else. Same as this trip, same arrangement. I will tell you if I am unhappy, and you will do the same, and we'll—we'll be—a team."

And. Once again, just the same as that night in her apartment. All of the tension goes out of her. She slumps.

"You're sure?" she says, sounding grateful in a way that spears straight through his heart to his spine—

—and then she bursts into nervous laughter, because Megamind has just recoiled and then leapt into a wide stance and flung both his arms out. "No! I CHANGED MY MIND. If you're not having fun, well then sucks to be you, Miss Ritchi, because we're NOT changing ANYTHING EVEN A LITTLE just so YOU can have FUN on a trip where WE SHOULD BOTH BE HAVING FUN how is that even a question you're ASKING."

"Okay! Okay!"

"Am I sure," he says, clenching his arms over his chest and curling his lip. "Bah."

Roxanne is wheezing with helpless giggles. "As long as you don't mind," she amends.

He cocks his hips. "Are we using different definitions of 'team'?" he demands. "I have never been properly on a team before, but it has always seemed like a fairly unambigooos concept to me." He casts his eyes heavenward. "I won't mind. If I do mind, it will be because I am—what was the term?—a big crankypants that day, and not because I am actually upset."

There, that seems to finally sink in. "Okay," Roxanne says again, "thank you," and she exhales, still half-laughing.

"Better?" he says, after a moment. "No more stress-trappedy anxiousness?"

"Much better, yeah. Thank you," she adds, and shakes her head. "I'm sorry about that, I'm," she lets out a wet and rueful laugh, "probably going to call my old therapist when we get home, I guess."

His brows twitch together. "You do seem reasonably even-keeled, for the most part—"

"I mean, yeah, for the most part, except for where I just ended up literally crying on my pet supervillain because I want to go to the beach with him and apparently that's super scary for me," she plucks another tissue, "because of silly family reasons I have no idea what to do with."

She blows her nose again while Megamind tries to decide how he feels about 'pet supervillain.'

Weirdly pleased and flattered. It turns out. "Woof," he says, and she snorts.

"It's funny," she says, grinning, "I've come such a long way from how I used to be towards, like, friends and coworkers and probably partners, hopefully. But I guess I've still got family crap to figure out. Ugh, I need to go to bed." She looks up at him. "Is that okay? I know it's probably super early for you, but…"

"You can sleep." He hesitates. "If—if you are still okay with our previous arrangement," he says, "then, you should sleep, and I will…probably wake you anyway when I get into bed."

Roxanne nods. "Yeah. Yeah, that works. And thanks," she adds, as she crawls under the covers of the bed Megamind claimed the previous day, "I really do feel way better now. Knowing what's going on is half the battle for me, I swear. Get the lights?" but, of course, Megamind is already moving to do so.

She lies down, and the lights go out. She hears Megamind pick up his tablet.

She doesn't hear him pick up his stylus, though. This could be because she's asleep too quickly.

Or it could be because he doesn't pick it back up at all.

When she wakes again a couple hours later, it isn't because Megamind is getting into bed with her, it's because he's pulling the curtain slowly across the windows to further darken the room. He has gotten into his pajamas, too, so he certainly looks ready for bed…but a glance at the clock on the center nightstand shows it's not even ten o'clock yet. Early night for him, as well?

Roxanne hums. Sends him a sleepy smile when his cat's eyes flash at her.

He doesn't speak, though. Slowly, he sits down on the edge of the bed. Facing away from her, facing the heavy curtain.

Something is wrong. "You okay?"

His thin shoulders rise and fall in a sigh, but he nods. Even more slowly, he turns, and slides his legs down under the covers.

But, instead of lying down, he says, "…Roxanne. How tired are you? Right now?"

She blinks. "Um. Not very, I guess?" She nets her fingers over her head to stretch out her arms before dropping her hands back onto her pillow. Arms still up. "I could sleep or I could talk. What's up?"

"Are you sure."

"Yeah," she says. "I've had a nap, I can talk. What's up?"

"I don't know." He's gazing down at his own hands. "I was…thinking. After you went to bed. And earlier. When you were in the bathroom. And. This afternoon."

Roxanne waits. After a moment, she sits up, too, and pulls her knees to her chest.

Finally Megamind says, "Today was good." She hears him swallow. "Today was good. Everything has been good, these past few days. More than I hoped for. More than I…thought could be possible. Honestly. I…"

He pauses.

She hears him exhale. Sees him wilt, just a little.

Frowning, Roxanne starts to ask what's wrong, but Megamind suddenly looks at her and asks, "When did you want to make those other phone calls?"

That wasn't on her short list of potential questions he might ask this evening.

"I was planning on jumping back into that stuff sometime after the wedding," she slowly says. "Maybe on our way home? I didn't want to dump too much on you at once." She pauses. Then she says again, "What's up?" and she sees his shoulders move with his deep inhale—

"They wanted me to revitalize the Atlas and Titan missile programs."

Chapter Text

They…?

If Roxanne wasn't fully awake a minute ago, she certainly is now. Her blood goes cold.

"Oh," she whispers.

Megamind lifts his chin.

Blinking as she kicks herself into a higher gear in their darkened hotel room, she stammers, "Then…that place we found…?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Fuck," Roxanne says, staring at him.

After a moment, he glances over at her again, his eyes catching the scarlet light of the hotel room's alarm clock and flashing it back blue-green. "Do you mind?" he says. "We can sleep instead. Do this later."

"No no no, I don't mind! I will listen to anything you want to tell me," Roxanne exclaims. She's already scooting back against the headboard to sit more comfortably. "Please don't force yourself, but no, I do not mind at all. Kind of honored, really."

He's quiet, though. After a few seconds, Roxanne makes a softly inquisitive noise in her throat, and frowns a little at his short hiss of frustration.

"It's just so imbalanced," he mumbles.

"What is?"

He shakes his head. His eyes flash again at her, once. "If you're sure. Today was a good day. I'm…okay. I can talk. And. You should know. What happened. If you're sure."

"The Atlas program?"

"ICBMs, yes." He pauses, then turns towards her. "If I had stayed with them," he says, pushing on her knee until she hesitantly shifts to sit cross-legged, "and done what they wanted…who knows." He curls down onto his side next to her and rests on his elbow there for a moment. "Those facilities could still be operational. Maybe there would be more of them. Maybe Earth would be uninhabitable by now, I don't know. I never thought I would ever actually be so physically close to one. Can I…? Is this…"

"Yeah, absolutely," and Megamind settles with his head in her lap. His legs under the blanket, his spine curled forward, and the back of his massive skull pressing against Roxanne's stomach, the site of his shunt pressed hard to her leg and hip.

Stunned, she rests a hand on his shoulder. "No wonder you went down so hard, so fast the other day," she realizes aloud. "Was it…oh no, and I think I even said something about Atlas missiles, didn't I? Oh, god. I'm so sorry."

He swallows. "I put a lot of energy into making them think my species was pathologically peaceful," he says, as Roxanne carefully lays her other hand down on the curve of his head. "That I could not understand weaponry as weaponry. That I was too alien. I was young; they didn't think I could be lying; they kept trying to coerce me. Coach me."

She bites her lip. 

"The prison has a library," he says. "I had already read through most of it by the time they came for me. So, I knew what they wanted, and why. I knew they would get it if they hurt me. I needed to make them think hurting me wouldn't work. That they shouldn't bother."

Gently, she moves her palm over his skin. Her mouth is dry. 

"A month into my…stay…I escaped. I was on a bus halfway to Toledo when they caught me the first time. The second time, a few weeks later, I didn't even make it to the bus stop. They brought me back. And. They knocked me out."

Roxanne keeps petting him, little sweeps of her hand, front to back. Fingers stroking the arch of bone at his temple. He said it was okay to touch his head back in her apartment the one time, and he hasn't seemed to mind it since, and…well, he put it in her lap; surely it's okay? to touch? He was doing this with her hair earlier (and hadn't that been an Experience, wow); surely this is okay. He would tell her if it wasn't.

Megamind hesitates, then moves to grip her knee.

"They took my left hand," he says. "And the first three fingers on my right."

Roxanne's heart trips on a beat and her lips part.

What.

"So I told them I would try. I—"

"Your hands?" she blurts, splaying her own over his head for a moment. "Why would they—"

He huffs a short laugh. "Is it not obvious? When your high-value, high-intelligence asset keeps escaping, you do whatever you have to do to stop it. Take its hands. Put a thing in its skull to give it constant migraines and keep it complacent. Keep it from thinking until you decide it's ready to think again."

Roxanne is reeling.

"Honestly, they probably would have taken both. But they still needed me to be able to hold a pencil without too much adjustment." His voice goes wry. "Little bit hard to draft designs and write equations otherwise."

She stares down at him. Her ears are ringing.

"On the bright side," he says as he shifts around and pushes his other hand under her leg to wrap his cold, hard fingers softly around her ankle, "it all did at least result in some rather spectacular advances in medicine and resource extraction. If that helps."

How the hell is Roxanne supposed to respond to—literally any of this—

"The treatments that keep Alzheimer's at bay," Megamind says with a sigh, chilly thumb pressing and rubbing gently behind her ankle bone. "The treatments for most forms of dementia, the ability to restore partial or even full cognition after traumatic brain injuries…I regenerate. Obviously." He drums his fingers on her knee, wiggles them for a moment. "My cerebrospinal fluid was extraordinarily useful. So." He raises and lowers his shoulder against her thigh in a shrug. "Silver linings."

"…Silver linings," Roxanne echoes, numb.

Megamind hums.

The room is so quiet.

The room is quiet, and dark. The bed is soft, their covers are warm. Megamind's hands are cold and heavy and whole where he's holding onto Roxanne's knee and her ankle, his shoulder is cool. His head is warm in her lap, and so heavy. The air outside is chilly, but in here, in their room and their bed, both of them are cozy. Cozy, well-fed. It was a lovely day. Pain seems very far away, now.

"My uncle Mitch is on medication for Alzheimer's," Megamind says into the silence. "He is seventy-seven and still sharp. Metrocity is funded and thriving, and the resources from uninhabited worlds are finally both easier to get and cheaper to refine and use than those scoured from Earth. So yes, I do at least call that a silver lining. Silver and lithium and cobalt. Platinum. Palladium."

Roxanne shakes herself, tries to focus. "Wait. Wait, I'm sorry, what does that have to do with…"

She trails off.

Resource extraction.

Earth's sudden leap to uninhabited worlds at the end of the 1980s. The mining colonies on Mars and Europa. The unmanned hydrocarbon refineries on Titan.

"What they wanted was guns," Megamind says, oblivious to the spike of ice that has just shot down Roxanne's spine.  "Guns, missiles. I gave them some exciting new calculations pertaining to certain loopholes in your then-known laws of physics, instead. And some basic designs to get started with. Keep them busy." His mouth tugs into a mirthless little smile in the dark; she feels his cheek move. "Woefully and entirely non-combustible, I'm afraid. No good for bombs, alas, so sad. That ended up being a fun little puzzle, at least; I tried to…oh. Are you okay? Roxanne?"

The back of her jaw and her neck and shoulders have gone hot and prickly. The effort to keep breathing normally is taking…a lot.

"You," she hears herself say, as Megamind rolls his head to look up at her, "gave us our first FTL drive."

"…The start of one. The drive most frequently in use now seems to have been modified significantly from my original designs, but the underlying physics of it do match. I suspect the Scotts were able to use Wayne's pod to reach a physical build that would work with my…um. I don't…I don't know what that face means."

What the FUCK, she wants to say. WHAT the FUCK.

The single most impactful economic game-changer of the twentieth century. The technology that allowed humanity to access other planets efficiently and safely, that allowed Earth to start making herself known on the interstellar stage. The technology that pulled the rug out from under countless mining companies the world over and forced them to invest in whatever would let them get a piece of the action during the interplanetary gold rush of the 1990s. All of this. Came from an alien child in a fucking bunker.

And the medicine. The medical advances are…

He lifts back up onto his elbow. Reaches across her, grips her arm. "Roxanne?"

If she starts screaming about this, Megamind is never going to trust her with any information ever again.

She takes a breath instead. "Come here," she says, voice shaking, "come here, let me—get under the—I need to hug you," as she nudges him back to let her lie down under the covers and then pull him down to face her on the pillow. Frantic, she wiggles her arm under the curve of his long neck as he lies down, and then she bends her elbow to hold his head and pull him to touch foreheads the way she's seen him do with Minion. "Can we—is this—?" She puts her other arm over him. "Can I—?"

"Oh," Megamind says, sounding startled. Still, he does put his arm around her as well. "Okay?"

"Is this okay?"

He nods against her.

His lower arm is folded, pinned between them; that hand is curled against his chest. But the bony fingers of his other hand slowly shove under Roxanne's shoulder blade as Megamind hugs closer to her with the arm he's wrapped over her ribs. The motion almost nudges a soft little flag up in the back of her mind—the flag is pink and lit with soft amber light; her heart has not beat like this for anyone in so long—but she pushes it away. She cannot afford to pay attention to anything but her companion, right now. She presses her hands to him and tries not to burst into tears when he sighs and closes his eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she finally says. "God. Megamind. I am so sorry that happened to you."

"I really don't want pity," he mumbles, and Roxanne can't help herself; she snorts.

"Pity—ha. This isn't pity, you aren't pitiful. This is rage."

After a moment, his brows tug together and he opens his eyes again and blinks at her. "Oh," he says. "What? I—"

"Seriously," she tells him, keeping her voice low, "there are no words in the English language to even approach an adequate description of the depth of my fury."

Megamind swallows. "But—"

"We were already well past livid. WAY beyond incandescently angry already. Don't get me wrong, the FTL thing is not the only thing I am mad about, I am just—fucking—shocked that not only do you do NOT have a Nobel prize for that, or for the medical stuff, but you were apparently tortured for it by the military—AND I'm still trying to get my head around the fact that you were tortured AT ALL—that's—"

His brows furrow together. "It wasn't torture. Wait, so—?"

"How was it not torture!" she explodes in a stage whisper. "Megamind! Megamind HOW was that not torture!"

"It wasn't even them!" he protests. "Look—yes, I gave them the beginnings of an FTL drive, but I made them think that was all I could do; I played scared, I played stupid! And so eventually they turned me over to a different department. Xenomorphology. And I escaped from them, as well, and when they caught me, they installed the shunt because by then it was obvious that taking my hands away was not going to stop me. It wasn't torture. Torture has a goal."

"The goal was guns!"

"And if I was still with the military, I might agree, but by the end of my stay I was promising all sorts of weapons if they'd just take the shunt out," he snaps. "They didn't believe me. They thought I was just trying to get them to let me escape again—"

"Containment, then! Oh, my god—"

"And I am fine, now." His brows are very low over his narrow eyes as he stiffly tries to pull away. "I am FINE. It's in the past. And it wasn't all bad; only one of the doctors was really awful. I am sorry for upsetting you. I didn't mean to make you mad."

She recoils, and then—

Roxanne seizes him. "Wait wait wait, no, hold on, I'm not mad at you," as she turns her arm so she's got her hand on the back of his huge, beautiful head and she's dragging him to touch foreheads again, "oh, my god! I am not mad at you, not at all even a little bit, what the hell? On your behalf! Furious on your behalf!"

"…Oh," he says again. He sounds genuinely taken aback. FUCK, that was what he thought? "Oh. Okay. Not upset with me."

"Absolutely not, no!" she exclaims, horrified that he thought otherwise. "Upset with the people who hurt you! Want to set the people who hurt you on fire. Upset with you? Not in a million years, not for this, not ever, oh my god, no!"

Slowly, he exhales.

"I promise," she says again, wanting to cry. "I promise, I swear. You haven't done anything wrong. I'm…I am angry about what happened to you but I am also so happy you told me. Thank you."

He swallows. Nods. Relaxes again and sighs all his air out, and Roxanne nods back and squeezes her eyes closed, as well.

He. Changed the world. And for that, in return, they hurt him beyond anything she would have imagined. They hurt him and they took his future. Who holds the patents for that technology? Who—which corporations are profiting off of—god, are any of the funds in her own retirement accounts invested in—? Yes, precious metals and small cap warptech, she's pretty sure in both her 401(k) and her ROTH—jesus—

"How are you so calm," she whispers. Her heart is going like a drum, her breathing is shallow. She feels as though she is floating. "Please tell me you aren't in the undertow."

"No." His fingers curl gently against her back. "I'm just…it's…dark? And it's you. I'm okay."

"I promise I'm not upset with you," she tells him. "I swear." It feels important to say it again. "I didn't even realize you might think I was, is how inconceivable it is that I would ever be upset with you for this."

He laughs a little bit. "Okay."

"Also, I can totally see why you'd have trouble lying on your side." She gulps. "Migraines, huh."

"Mm. Headaches are very bad for me."

"Yeah, I bet! Fuck."

Then she asks, because she is Roxanne and she cannot help but be curious, "So, um. Is the…the hands thing? Is that the thing everyone reacts worse to?"

"No." He sighs. "No. Maybe it would be, but…no. The part most people think must have been the worst was when…they…"

He trails off.

After a few seconds, gut twisting, Roxanne says, "You don't have to."

"No, no, I do want to. I might as well. I'm just," he lets out a short laugh, "trying to figure out how to keep it from sounding…look, they did put me under," he suddenly says.

Ah. Right. His operating table comment from last night. Heart pounding, Roxanne nods.

"They did try to knock me out. But anesthesia has several components, some of which I metabolize at different rates. Sedative versus paralytic."

She swallows. "I'm…guessing the sedative didn't…work?"

"Not for long. So. I…woke up. And…well. You can probably imagine. It is much easier to simply open something up and take it apart to see how it works than to waste time and money on resonance imaging." At her mute nod, he pauses. Then he slowly says, "Actually, looking back…I'm not sure they had enough funding for an MRI. Those were the absolute cutting edge in medical technology at the time. Not that they would have wasted it on me, but…it wasn't entirely their fault."

THAT'S why people don't react half as badly to the shunt.

But, as he said—he had support, afterwards, for the—that. And it sounded like that was probably a one-time thing, but he was in the agony of the shunt for more than a year.

"So then…that was at the end?" she asks. "If your uncles were there…"

"The second time was at the end," he says, and—

Roxanne is not going to be sick. She is not leaving this bed until Megamind does.

"Wait, they did this twice? Why would they go back in?"

Megamind sighs.

"Sorry, you don't have to—"

"No. No, it's all right."

And so he explains.

Yes, it was twice. Not to take him apart, the second time, but to install an organomechanical explosive inside him. To work it into him so his body's metabolism would keep it viable, long-term, so they would be able to control him later if they could. But, he says, they hadn't realized he could hear them talking. They had not realized could feel exactly where they were putting their insurance before they let him go.

His uncle Bill's father, Granddaddy Sigranes, drove all the way down from the hills of West Virginia and into Washington, DC to pick Megamind up. Megamind still isn't sure how Phillip Sigranes got looped into everything, but he was waiting on the steps of the facility's entrance with a well-patched winter coat and new mittens and boots for the gaunt little boy who reeled out into the snow in a pair of ill-fitting shoes. His grandaddy got Megamind into the coat right then and there, and crouched down with a groan to help him into his boots. They were too big for him, but better too big than too small, and then this little old man with the neat goatee swept Megamind up into his arms and carried him away down the steps to the waiting station wagon. Introducing himself, telling him he was Megamind's Uncle Bill's daddy. So, Megamind's granddaddy.

Megamind slept most of the way home to West Virginia. But when they got there, he asked for paper and he started drawing, and he only stopped to call the prison and ask to talk to Uncle Bill. He would need help for what he needed to do next.

Bill was a master thief, Megamind tells Roxanne. Locked doors only stayed locked around him if he wanted them to. He broke out, and with him came Mitch and Guduza, and Poindexter—Uncle Dex—who learned more quickly and knew more things than any other human Megamind had met in his short life surrounded by geniuses thus far. Mitch had been a pediatrician before he was arrested for unlicensed vigilante work, and Guduza was instrumental in the original development of the thing Megamind was carrying inside him, more than a decade prior and an ocean away.

When the men arrived a few days later—packed into a car of uncertain provenance driving up to the little green house with its porch roof sagging, tucked away among the naked trees—Megamind quietly, seriously explained what he needed: their help with removing and defusing a bomb.

Grim and shaky, Dex took the pictures Megamind drew for him: everything he could remember from glimpses of photos that he had, through some miracle, seen in files lying open. Dex and Mitch took the pictures with them when Phillip drove them down into town, to the library, to find books on field surgery. Mitch also called his mother in from two states over—she was stooped and arthritic but she had been a nurse in the navy once upon a time; she came in on a flight that same afternoon—and Guduza sat with Megamind in silence at the window, watching the snow. Bill sat nearby with his elbows on his knees in the rocking chair by the wood stove, staring at his boots and slowly emptying the bottle of whiskey swaying from his fingers.

Although not a surgeon by any stretch of the imagination, Mitch had steady hands and enough of the right kind of background to be able to tell if something was going really wrong, and this was far from his mother's first rodeo. Elaine's experience and Dex's quick book-learning and understanding of Megamind's illustrations were enough to walk Mitch through the specifics of what he was doing. Guduza was able to guide the two of them through safely removing the device when they got to that point, and until then, he could hold Megamind's hands as he and Bill pinned their boy down hard with a bullet squeezed between his teeth, and he sang what he remembered of the songs his mother sang when he was growing up at home in South Africa. When he needed to stop and pitch in on the terrible work in front of him, Bill and Elaine took over singing.

They got it done. They took the thing out. And they sewed Megamind up, and Megamind slept that night curled in a ball in Guduza's arms, shaking and shaking and shaking and shaking, while his uncle very quietly sang himself hoarse.

And in the morning, there were waffles.

Roxanne holds herself together through most of it. Her arm around her friend, her thumb sweeping back and forth on the back of his head as he talks. It's the singing that takes her out.

"Jesus," she whispers again, tears in her eyes. "God almighty. Oh, no. They couldn't make you sleep? At all? There wasn't anything?"

"They wanted to try. I wouldn't let them."

"But—"

"No. We had no way of knowing what dosage of ether or chloroform might kill me, and I can't handle alcohol." Still quiet, but there's an edge in his voice. "And if it happens to me, then it happens while I'm there. I will not go under again. I have a very high tolerance for pain."

Roxanne nods. Hugs him tighter. She's not going to argue with him about it.

"I'm so glad they were there for you," she finally says. "That sounds terrible. But…I do sort of see why they would have reacted so much worse to that than the shunt."

"Oh?"

"That's horror movie stuff, by most standards." She swallows. "But most people think of migraines as just, really bad headaches? I know they're more than that, but…it does kind of make sense to me that you might not have received as much support for that part as for the, um. The surgeries."

Also, the experience of holding down a child—who was, in every way that mattered, their child—while conducting surgery on him with no anesthetic—Roxanne cannot imagine. She remembers Jim telling her, on the phone, none of them was ever the same after they came back, and god, okay, she's pretty sure she'll never be the same either, just from hearing about it.

Then she takes a deep breath and says, "But, if you say the shunt was the worst part…I believe you. I do. I can't imagine having a full-on migraine for more than a year with no breaks. I believe you."

"I couldn't think," he says, voice cracking. "I couldn't think."

"I know. It must have been awful. I'm so sorry."

He clears his throat. She hears him gulp.

"It's okay," Roxanne says. "I won't make fun. No one is going to make fun of you."

But instead of breaking down, he suddenly pulls away and sits up again. "Can we make that last phone call now," he says, looking down at her. "The one you wanted to make?"

Startled, she blinks back up at him. "You sure?"

He nods. "You know as much as I do, now," he says. "And I…want answers. I want answers. If it was illegal to take Minion later, I need answers. It's late, but…"

Roxanne sits up as well. "I am the most awake I've ever been in my life," she says, although privately she wants nothing more than to wrap herself around him and sob. "Yeah, let's do that. Let me get my phone, you hit the lights. How do you want to do this?"

"Dad," she says a few minutes later, sitting across from Megamind at the little table in the corner. "Hi, did I wake you up?"

"Nope, was just heading to bed," is the reply. "What's going on?"

"Is Uncle Rod on-world?"

A kind of startled pause follows this. Megamind glances over at Roxanne.

When her father doesn't reply, Roxanne says, "It's just, I'm here with Megamind, and I am learning all kinds of wild and crazy stuff about some of the crap we were up to in DC back in the eighties, and you know what I would like, Dad, you know what I'd really love, is to find out what the FUCK happened to Minion in nineteen ninety-four. Because you know—and I know—that the shit we did to Megamind is about twenty-one flavors of illegal now, but Minion swears up and down some guy named Allbright brought him to Washington back when I was in high school, and what I would love, Dad, is some fucking answers about that."

Another silence, and then—

An enormous sigh from her father's end of the line. "Aw, Christ."

"And don't tell me you don't know. I know you know."

"Yeah. Yeah. He there with you now?"

"Megamind is," Roxanne says. "Minion's on vacation with Wayne."

Megamind clears his throat. "Ollo, Roxanne's father."

"Well hey, son. Roxannie, you mind taking me off speaker for a second?"

"Yes I do mind, anything you say to me can be said to him."

"It's just, I'm pretty sure Rod's skyside right now, so—"

"Then patch us through to Galactic Command! Or whoever! I know there's a way to do it—"

Megamind jerks in his seat. "Galactic Command?" he hisses.

"I know people who know people, it's what I do, you know this," she hisses back, then raises her voice again, "and it's not like Megamind, a fucking space alien, is going to have a lower security clearance than me, who am sitting here at zero and already pretty well in the know. Dad, I swear to god, I am losing my mind, here. I will burn SO many bridges pulling skeletons out of closets. You know I will."

"Okay, okay, yeah, 's fair," Orson says. There's a groan and some shuffling sounds. A click. "Lemme fire up the dial-up. Time is…christ, I dunno, probably midafternoon there. Gimme a sec. You already fill your boy in?"

"Was holding off in case I do have any misapprehensions. So, here's the thing," Roxanne says to Megamind, still holding her phone up more or less at mouth-level in one hand, "you know I kind of already told you I was meeting outworlders here and there when I was little? You ever wonder WHY there's so many outworlders here on Earth?"

"Thing about Earth is," Orson says, "we're in a real bad location, astrographically. Very very attractive in terms of strategy. The Galactic Federation is conflict-free at the moment, but the Thirteen Suns…well, tensions are heating up between two of the inhabited worlds under the Hegemony."

"Right," Roxanne says. "So, rewind rewind rewind. When my uncle Rod is a kid, he gets abducted by aliens."

"Abducted isn't—"

"Yes, fine, he's not ABDUCTED, he's INVITED skyside after an incident involving a shrink ray or something, and he goes and does a whole bunch of stuff, learns a whole lot he shouldn't know, comes back, there's a whole Thing and then he's kind of," she gestures vaguely, "trying really hard as a young adult to, like, set things up for Earth to maybe hopefully NOT get exploded or forcibly annexed between Ssrahen and Vrallior's issue…"

"Right, and it kind of works but it mostly doesn't," Orson says, "Annie how in God's name do you know about the An-Plattszra situation?"

"A lady never tells."

"Uh-huh, sure, but what about your ill-bred behind?"

"Thbbbtpt. I'm flipping you off."

"She is," Megamind says, despite Roxanne not having moved her free hand from her notebook. She sends him a wink and a thumbs-up.

"Anyway," Orson says with a kind of dry chuckle, "it kinda works, mostly doesn't. Rod's bouncing around skyside, advocating for Earth. Meanwhile down here it's the sixties, seventies, Cold War, Cuban missile crisis, Vietnam war…Earth's a raging mess of angry politics, the USA's got her fingers in more pies than she's got fingers, and the stuff Rod set up when he was younger got, ah…"

"Grotesquely mismanaged?"

"Pretty well fucked, yes. But—his name's still at the top of all the paperwork, remember. So he finds out, comes roaring back in like a bat out of Hell with a lot of very mean individuals with very scary guns; he pulls the plug on whatever crap they were doing and sets everything back up the way it was supposed to be running, with way more specificity this time. Which is, at this point, an immigration office. And—"

"Specificity," Megamind says.

"First draft allowed for too much wiggle room," Orson says flatly. "Too much room for interpretation. You have to understand—"

"He doesn't, actually," Roxanne says, voice cold.

"Right, well, I hope you can understand—he was barely old enough to drink, setting all this up the first time. Annie, your mother was still in high school. Rod had just made contact with the Hegemony…"

Megamind sighs. "He didn't know what he would need to do yet," he says, massaging his forehead, "only that he would need to be able to do it quickly?"

"That's about the shape of it."

He drags his hand down his face. Bureaucracy.

Roxanne's lip comes away from her teeth. "He didn't anticipate the US military might want to stick more fingers where they don't belong?"

"Roxanne," Megamind says, looking over at her with tired eyes, "please. It's your family."

"That doesn't—"

"I have to imagine your tendency to assume the best of people came from somewhere."

She blinks. Wilts. He sees some of the fight go out of her.

"Anyway, I've got you wired in now, I'm gonna patch this call through to the first checkpoint. Annie, you're gonna need to get through a whole bunch of menus, you got a pen?"

She copies down numbers, jots down a few instructions. Orson plays a couple of tones Megamind will need to whistle at certain intervals to access the right lines (he says 'record these with your phone and play them while you're dialing the numbers' but Megamind has whistles more than covered), and then he says—and this is what endears him to Megamind—"You kids text me when you're done, okay? I'm gonna hold off going to bed in case you can't get through. Worse comes to worst, we can set up some kind of conference call next week when we've all got time."

"Right," Roxanne says, flat. "Okay, well. I'll text you. Night."

Wait, she's not going to—?

"Thank you," Megamind blurts. "For. Your help."

"Oh, well," Orson sort of laughs, "least I can do, very literally. I came in after your whole…pile of horseshit, but I'm aware of it. Some of it. Helluva thing, son. I'm so sorry."

Megamind takes a deep breath, nodding. "Thank you," he says again. He is not sure what else there is to say. Judging by the scowl Roxanne is wearing, she can probably think of a few words, but all Megamind can do is swallow. He was not expecting Roxanne's father to express anything like sympathy for him. "Um. Good night. Sir."

"It's just Orson. You kids text me."

"Good night, Dad."

"Night, Annie. Love you."

"Love you too. Don't tell Mom."

"Only if she asks. Okay, now stand by…"

She waits for the tone her father described, then stabs four and three. Megamind whistles—

Slowly, carefully, the two of them make their way through a long and complicated series of prompts neither of them understands. Terran dial tones give way to oscillating frequencies that make Roxanne flinch, words in languages that barely sound like language play and offer prompts. Megamind sings, and Roxanne dials, and they make it through without too much trouble, until finally…

"Allbright," and then some things Megamind doesn't catch, and then some of the sounds that had not sounded like language.

Roxanne pastes an enormous fake smile across her face. "Uncle Rod! Hi! It's Roxanne! Your niece!"

Silence. And then a very very startled-sounding, "Roxanne! Uh…hi? Is everything okay? What's going on?"

"Everything is fine, now," Roxanne says, still fake-chipper, teeth bared, "but I have learned some upsetting new un-fun facts and I would really REALLY like some answers as to WHAT you were doing on Earth in March of nineteen ninety-four with my very good friend Minion. Dad wasn't sure, so I'm calling you before I start working through my other contacts."

Once again.

There is a long.

Long.

Pause.

And then a sigh.

"FaRjkt d'g krA'b nGg'T," Rod mumbles. "Okay. Is Minion with you?"

"No—"

"Is he SAFE?"

"As far as we're aware. He's with Metro Man. Vacation. But I've got Megamind with me and we talked to Minion yesterday, and he mentioned an Agent Allbright, and I could not help but think of you, Uncle Rod, and I'd really REALLY LOVE some answers, because I am, uh—"

Megamind clears his throat. "She is blisteringly livid."

"That is putting it super mildly!"

Rod sighs again. "And it's just the two of you?" At their affirmative, there's a groan and then a clunk and some rustling. The sound of someone closing a door and shuffling things around on a desk, possibly. "Okay. Well…I'm afraid even I don't have as many answers as I'd like. I'll tell you what I remember, but…what's going on?"

"Some facts don't line up," Roxanne says flatly. "I don't like it when facts don't line up and I've just found out my best friend was cut to pieces as a child because of a lack of fucking oversight and I'm PISSED OFF."

Megamind silently leans over and rests his hand on her arm. Gives her a gentle squeeze. Roxanne glances at him, swallows. Nods a little.

"Gotcha," Rod is saying. "You writing this down?"

"I write everything down."

There's a pause, and then, "Well, I guess that's fine. Give me a second."

Some more small noises. A sigh.

Megamind is so tense he can barely see straight. He withdraws. Twists his fingers together in his lap and closes his eyes.

"I got a call," Roxanne's uncle finally says, and Megamind hears Roxanne flip to a new page of her notebook and click her pen open, "in March of ninety-four, letting me know one of Earth's more sensitive permanently displaced outworld leaders had been stolen. Abducted, gone missing, whatever. I figured this was something best handled personally after the disaster with his bonded telepsych several years prior, so…well, my team intercepted him about seven hours after he was lifted from his home, and I touched down shortly after that."

Megamind takes a deep, steadying breath.

"I'll freely admit this may have been mishandled," Rod says, sounding extremely tired. "I was not sure how best to approach this. It wasn't supposed to go down this way, absolutely nothing was supposed to happen like this, and we didn't have time to figure out how to do it by the book—didn't even have enough time to figure out what book to do it by. And Minion's telepsych was, uh…a high risk individual. Sorry. Megamind, that's you. Very high-risk. We could not afford to have you actually go on the offensive, not with Vrallior's claim to you still making its way through the Hegemon's courts on Lesheng'yi—Earth still isn't an officially-recognized safe haven for asylum seekers under the Thirteen Suns, it's a mess—"

Roxanne looks over at him. Megamind's eyes popped open and he is well aware that the expression he's now wearing is best described as 'baffled.' Vrallior? Claim?

"—anyway, I played it like this was the plan. Some kind of awful miscommunication, red tape. A lack of oversight, like you said. But I told him he was with me, I'd be representing him, I was going to personally see to it this couldn't happen again and he'd be taken care of. You both would.

"I, ah, I'm the one who fudged the numbers with your birthdays," he adds. "If you'd landed in a country with a younger age of majority it might have been an easier road, but…well. We made sure you were both registered as permanently displaced outworld leaders under the United Nations of Earth—you know, you've seen the paperwork—localized and naturalized in the US of A, State of Michigan, etc. etc.. Red tape being what it is, we weren't able to get confirmation to you fast enough," he sounds very apologetic, "which of course led to your whole throw-down with those A-12 nanites of yours, since our initial messages didn't get through either. Very neat work with those, by the way. But it all went okay in the end, so until now—until about, what, four or five minutes ago?—I figured, all's well that ends well. That magenta elf of yours came to our offices, collected Minion, collected the paperwork for the two of you, signed off as your POA—"

Megamind blinks.

"—and rocketed back on home to Michigan. You both made it very clear you were through with mundane laws, and lord knows I couldn't blame you. That was the last we heard. But," he says, in the tone of someone who is now resting his forehead in his hand and his elbow on his desk and wishing for High Betelgeusian gin, "I am now assuming, based on this phone call, that something got lost in the metaphorical mail."

Roxanne clears her throat. "Yeah, one sec. Megamind…Machiavillain had a power of attorney? For you? To represent you, to sign for you?"

He swallows. His head is spinning. "I…I don't…there were forms I signed, as his apprentice, for my license, for…recognition as a villain under the appropriate code sections. A power of attorney…I wouldn't have…but I was, I was a minor. Officially. I suppose there must have been. Um. And, and what—but what was," he gathers himself and speaks up, "what—Mr. Allbright, you said—world leaders? Minion and I are…?"

"Oh, of course—yes, as the sole surviving members of your respective peoples, without planets, you both qualify for recognition as permanently displaced world leaders under the United Nations of Earth."

Megamind physically rocks backwards in his seat.

Rod is still talking. "Well, outworld leaders. You've got some pretty hefty Do-Not-Disturb armor, is what it all boils down to." He pauses, then slowly says into the silence, "Then, I guess you haven't seen the papers I mentioned. What the hell?"

They would have been given to Machiavillain. Minion knew Machiavillain at least in passing at that point; Minion would have recognized him as safe. The papers would have gone to Machiavillain.

Roxanne glances at Megamind, but he doesn't move. "Can they be replaced? If we can't find them? And is there anything he needs to be doing to keep those protections up, or an expiry date, or…?"

"Replaced probably yes, maintenance…well, last I checked the answer was 'no,' but I'll confirm."

She nods. "Okay. And, um. You said, somebody called you? About Minion? Can you tell me who that was?"

"I'm afraid I can't. They barely got through at all; I imagine it was someone on the team that was putting together the outreach packets for your birthdays."

Her pen skips on the page as she writes outreach packet - bday? with a shaking hand. "Right. And—why was none of this communicated to Megamind? You said something about an initial communication?"

"We tried to get hold of him through the prison after we picked Minion up." Her uncle sighs again. "Tried probably half a million numbers, but the calls wouldn't go through. As for letting him know about his status earlier than that—it wasn't an option yet at that point." The tone of his voice says he's more than aware this was not ideal. "That displaced world leader business was only added to the Code in…ninety-one, I think? And it wasn't available to minors for another few years, which is patently nonsense, but that was the compromise we had to make to get it on the books and at least get that ball rolling."

"Thus the fudging of the birthdays," Roxanne murmurs. Then she swallows. "Last question, I think. Is…is Earth in danger? Dad said something earlier that…"

Yet another enormous sigh from her uncle. "I'm trying really hard to keep anything from happening. But we're so new, we're still so new to all of this. First impressions with the Hegemony have…not gone well. I don't know."

"Is Earth going to explode," Roxanne says.

"Oh, definitely not," Rod says, immediate. "No, those kinds of measures have been outlawed basically everywhere I know of except Earth for centuries. Even the Reticulan oligarchs don't usually go for explosions."

Roxanne nods. "Okay. Thanks, that's—oh! Also! You said Vrallior's got some kind of claim to Megamind? Or Minion? What's…?"

"There are some descendants of both species on Vrallior, yes. Multi-generational hybrids, you understand, they don't look anything like you anymore. But if Megamind and Minion wanted to leave Earth, they would very likely have a home waiting for them in Vrallior's warren or one of her settled calderas."

There is a soft patting sound. Roxanne glances down.

Megamind is tapping the tips of his long fingers on the table, and when she looks up at him—

He's shaking his head. He's pale. His mouth is flat and his eyes are squeezed closed; his other hand is clenched against his chest in a white-knuckled fist.

Roxanne seizes the hand that's on the table, and Megamind wraps his fingers around hers painfully hard. "Okay," Roxanne says. "Thanks, Uncle Rod, I think that's everything I had for now. I appreciate your time."

"Absolutely. I'll check into their current status, just confirm all is well. See about getting copies of their documents. Will keep you posted."

"Thanks."

"He okay?"

"He will be," Roxanne says, "he always is. Little bit tongue-tied at the moment."

"I can imagine. Well, take care, you two. I'll be in touch."

"Thanks."

She ends the call.

Megamind has not moved. His eyes are still closed.

Roxanne opens her mouth—

"Do not ask if I'm okay."

—and she closes it again. She hesitates, then ventures, "Do you…um, do you maybe want to go for a walk outside?"

He nods hard.

Roxanne squeezes his hand, then releases it. "C'mon. Give me a minute to text my dad and grab my sweater."

Megamind is silent as they pull their warmer clothes on over their pajamas, and he is silent all the way down the stairs, and he doesn't look up at Bridget when she waves from the front desk. Roxanne returns her greeting and offers a theatrical shrug in response to the other woman's head-tilt about her blue companion, then hurries to catch up with him.

"Hey—"

"Why would he not tell me," Megamind snarls, throwing the doors open and striding out into the chilly October night. "WHY would he not—just—? Was, was it all—I can't—" He releases an animal snarl, ugly, guttural. Deep in his chest. Roxanne is pretty sure that isn't one of 'his' sounds; she's heard Wayne make a similar noise before.

She swallows, jogging after him.

"Intercepted? INTERCEPTED. Minion was INTERCEPTED. I'm—the military didn't take him? At all? And we—we're protected. We're protected? We have been protected, this whole time? Fucking—permanently displaced world leaders?"

"The term does fit."

"It's not ABOUT the term! I'm—I am—"

More snarling.

Roxanne draws even alongside him, walking on the side that faces the dropoff on the other side of the road and chewing on her lip as Megamind stalks downhill.

"All this time," he snaps, lifting a hand to his head, then gesturing wildly in front of him, "ALL this time! I thought! My citizenship was tied to my education! Like Wayne's. I have the papers to prove it! I claimed," his voice cracks, "Machiavillain's destruction, and that settled it. Minion and I—we couldn't—naturalize, but at least we had citizenship. We were documented. And—and now—I find out—we have both been fully naturalized since we were eighteen. And—he—and he—"

Aching, Roxanne says, "And he knew?"

"AND HE KNEW!" Megamind shrieks, whipping around to face her, walking backwards down the hill now. He throws his arms up. "He KNEW! He knew, he had our paperwork, he TALKED—to YOUR UNCLE—cheese louise, by the way—he knew. He knew we were safe, and he—didn't tell me! He didn't tell EITHER of us!"

He rakes both hands down his face and stops walking. Face still buried in his palms. Shoulders heaving. He isn't crying, but he's not breathing right.

Hesitant, Roxanne lifts a hand. She can't quite bring herself to touch him. "Megamind?"

He mumbles into his fingers. "He. Must have assumed Minion would say something."

Her gut twists as Megamind lifts his head. "I don't—"

"That must have been it," he says. Nodding. Eyes like plates, shoulders halfway to his ears. He jerks them down suddenly, snaps his hands to his sides, balls his fists. "That…must have been it. He assumed Minion knew. Minion would have told me, if he could hear properly, if he knew. I, I already knew about the education track Machiavillain set up, he already had that set up, he…so he assumed it wasn't necessary to tell me otherwise. I would be protected anyway. It wasn't necessary."

Roxanne blinks. "Wait, what? When did he find time to set THAT up? I thought this was the first time you two actually worked together?"

He waves an impatient hand. "It was, it was! I told you, this was my destiny, he knew that! He laid the groundwork ages prior, it's not important."

Megamind stands for a moment while Roxanne reels.

"Yes," he finally says. "That must have been why. That must have been why. That…must have been why."

But.

His eyes are still too wide, and his shoulders are still moving with his hard breaths. "That must have been why," he says again, voice cracking, and Roxanne. Can't. Stand. It.

She swallows. "Megamind. Please. Tell me you hear how that sounds."

"Hear what."

"He had this already set up?"

"I TOLD you," he snarls, wild-eyed, fists clenched at his sides, "this was my DESTINY—"

"No it wasn't!"

He jerks back, jaw dropping, and then his face slams to desperate rage and he bares his teeth. "Yes it WAS!"

"No!" Roxanne cries, "it wasn't! Please, please just hear yourself—listen to me! Please—"

"He HELPED ME, I don't know HOW MANY TIMES I HAVE TO TELL YOU—"

"I know! I know he did! I'm not asking you to hate him!"

Megamind falters a little bit. Eyes wide, lips pulled away from his teeth, barely breathing.

She scrubs her wrist over her nose. "I'm not saying he never helped you," she insists, voice thick, "I'm not! I KNOW he helped you, I know! I know he—he was probably one of the only people who did! He was there! When you needed him! I know that! That's okay!"

He's staring at her. Still on guard.

Roxanne hiccups, gulps. If she starts sobbing, she's not going to be able to talk. "He helped you. I'm not asking you to hate him, just—please! Think! Who took Minion? If it wasn't the government?"

Megamind looks away. Presses his lips together, shakes his huge head.

"Who took Minion? Who—who arranged for Minion to be taken?"

He's still shaking his head.

"And how did they get their people into Evil Lair?" she demands. Megamind's eyes squeeze closed but Roxanne is shaking, she can't stop talking. "Minion said he had no idea those guys were there until they were right up on him! How did they get through your security? You keep him so safe, and they still took him! How!"

"I was—I was young, Roxanne," his voice cracks. He finally looks up at her again as he flops his arms at his side in a gesture of helplessness. "It was—my security wasn't—"

"Oh bullshit," she gasps out, "don't you feed me that crap, you are a supergenius with at least one master thief in your prison lineage and he is Minion. BullSHIT your security wasn't the best on the planet, even at eighteen years old."

"No," he says. "No."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry but—but I will bet you any money, when Machiavillain approached you the first time," she gulps, "it was to warn you away! He wasn't looking for an apprentice, he didn't want a protegee. He wanted to run you out of town! He—"

"I know that!"

She pauses. "You—?"

"I know that, it's not a secret! He told me that! He said," his expression is beginning to clear, "he said when he came to Metro and heard about me, he knew I was a threat. I needed to be eliminated. Yes. But then—but then he met me! Then he met me," gesturing at his chest with both hands and his eyes full of shining hope, full of a kind of oddly frantic faith, "and he talked to me! And he saw—he saw what I could be!"

His hopeful eyes are so wide. His smile. And Roxanne's eyes are filling with tears but—

Finally. She finally sees him hear it.

His smile begins to slip.

"Yeah," Roxanne whispers. She nods. "Yeah. He did."

Chapter Text

"No," he says again.

Roxanne sniffs hard. "He knew you were a threat—"

"No—"

"Genius kid, already well-connected to all the players on the chessboard he was so carefully setting up. He knew he couldn't lock you in as a player or a piece. You were too much of a liability. But, yes, then he met you! And yes, he saw a threat. He saw a liability—"

"Don't—don't—"

"—but he also saw an incredible asset!"

Megamind is standing with his arms limp at his sides. Eyes wide. Puppet with its strings cut on the side of the road.

"I don't know who said the word destiny first," she gasps out, "but it was all he would have needed! You were hurting so bad. I bet your friends had probably just moved away, right? So you were alone, you were tired. You were a child! You needed help! And here comes Machiavillain, swooping in with your 'destiny' in hand. And he's powerful, independent," she gulps, "he's famous and glamorous and he's looking at you with stars in his eyes; he's amazing! And he's gushing over you! Yes? And you told him off! You didn't want him then! But he planted a seed.

"And he made sure it grew," she chokes out. "He came back to make sure it grew. Oh, he was just so worried; oh, do you need shoes? Weapons? Oh, he just wanted to offer you your bright destiny. I bet he was even totally up-front about what he wanted, too! He wanted to use you and he told you as much. Didn't he."

Megamind is silent.

"And it made him sound honest. It made him sound like he respected you. And it made you feel important, because you, Megamind, you were an opportunity for this incredible supervillain. Everyone else was calling you worthless, but Machiavillain stepped in when you were at your lowest and he got you on your feet and he made you feel worth it. Because you were in pain, and that was something he could twist. And use."

"He didn't—no, he didn't twist it," Megamind says, a begging note in his voice as he lifts his head. "There was nothing to twist! My, my father said, he said—"

"What kind of parent wants THIS for their kid?"

Megamind recoils, blinking at her in open shock.

She's shaking. Tears are streaming down her freckled cheeks, she's sniffing back wet with every breath. But she still gasps out, wildly shaking her head, "It's so dangerous! And it's so lonely! I don't—I don't know ANY parent who would want this! ESPECIALLY not parents who worked so hard to send you somewhere you could thrive! AND—And! You didn't actually even hear WHAT your father said!"

He flinches. Pulls his shoulders up, wraps his hands around his arms across his middle, lips parting.

"You didn't HEAR him!" she cries, throwing up her hands. "You could be wrong! You…you ARE WRONG; you have to be! Why the FUCK would THIS be your destiny? To live alone! To risk dying young! To live a life that has you crawling into my home to breathe because yours is choking you! WHY!"

He doesn't reply. His eyes are wide and his brows are tugging low over his thin, handsome face, his elbows are slicked tight against his sides. He isn't looking at her anymore.

After a few seconds, Roxanne scrubs her wrist over her nose and shrugs hard. Reins herself in. "I get it," she manages, "I do. Machiavillain…he helped you. He was there for you and he helped you and I know that. I'm not asking you to hate him! And I'm not—asking you—to give everything up," whoops, she had thought she was composing herself, but Megamind lifts his helpless gaze to hers with his eyes like stars in the moonlight and here come Roxanne's tears again, rising to choke her, "I'm not asking you to change your name and fake your death and move to Bora Bora! Just…please! Please just consider the possibility that Machiavillain did what he was best at! He lied! To lock you in with him, and keep you close—he lied! Megamind! He LIED! So you would come running straight to him for help when HE TOOK MINION AWAY!"

Megamind blinks and—opens his mouth—

But he just exhales. He stands, pale and staring at Roxanne and breathing like he's about to be sick…and Roxanne stands hugging herself in the middle of the road, under the cold stars, two thousand miles from anyone else who loves either of them, sobbing like her heart is breaking. It isn't fair. It isn't FAIR! Machiavillain told Megamind he would be there, told him he would help. Machiavillain came to stand behind this struggling teenager and he told Megamind he would catch him, and he DID catch him. And he did it all so well that Megamind never realized his mentor was the one who set him up to fall into his arms in the first place. It isn't fair. He's been hurt so badly.

She hiccups and coughs and then finally shudders into motion and digs in her pocket for the packet of tissues she shoved there before they left the hotel room in case Megamind might need it. Blows her nose. Blows it again. Again. Gulps.

The plastic crinkles in her fist and Megamind sways on his feet as though struck, and then he stumbles forward. He reaches for her—

Roxanne doesn't even have time to flinch at the sudden hand reaching past her face. Cold, bony fingers slide into her short hair behind her head, and Megamind's forehead meets hers with a clunk that makes her fillings rattle.

"Ow," she whispers.

Megamind says something.

"I…what? Sorry, I did-I didn't…"

"I said," and he clears his throat, but his voice is still very rough, "why Bora Bora?"

Shoulders hitching, Roxanne stares at him. Or, more precisely, she stares at the base of his throat; her head is tilted forward.

When she doesn't reply, Megamind hesitates, then reaches up and slips his other hand into her hair as well and rasps, "Why Bora Bora? Why not…I don't know. Guam?"

Guam?

That's ridiculous. Insane. Roxanne knows one single thing about Guam, and it's: "You would hate Guam; you don't like snakes."

"Guam has snakes?"

"Guam's crawling with snakes," she hiccups, tearful, "they're invasive; they ate all the native songbirds."

"Does Bora Bora have snakes?"

"I don't know." She sniffs, swears under her breath, and grabs another tissue. Blows her nose, still leaning forehead-to-forehead with Megamind. "But Bora Bora is pretty, I saw a picture once. Probably good snorkeling. It'd be nice."

He laughs in his throat and finally lifts his head.

"Oh, Roxanne," he says, dropping one hand to her shoulder as he carefully rearranges her bangs with the trembling fingers of the other, his mouth a wry twist, "don't you know you're the one who deserves nice things?" His bitter smile flashes around his teeth. His wide eyes are shining with tears. "I've fucked my whole life inside-out."

He…?

"Wh…no, what? That's not—no, it's not your fault—"

"I'm tired," he says as he turns away. His arms fall limply to his sides. "Let's go to bed."

He starts to trudge away up the hill.

"But—Megamind, no, wait—"

She hurries after him.

This reaction doesn't make any sense. It doesn't make sense! Megamind should be losing his mind about this, shouldn't he? God, Roxanne can't even begin to imagine how she would feel, if it were her. The level of betrayal is unthinkable.

She wants to have been wrong so badly. But she truly does not think she is.

And everything else! This, on top of everything else tonight! From the way Megamind sounded earlier, Roxanne is pretty sure she is the first person to learn what happened in Washington since before he got his villain's license. He cannot possibly be okay right now. He's just going to go to bed?

Roxanne slows, glancing around at nothing as she thinks, hugging herself with her manicured nails squeezing into her arms, worrying her lip with her teeth.

…What was up with him asking to make the last phone call right after that awful conversation? 

Oh, and before that, too, she remembers suddenly, with a nervous rinse of ice down the base of her spine. He mentioned it before he started telling her what happened, too. When he was asking if she was tired.

On one side of them, the carved-away rock face of the cliff rises beside the road. On their other side, the rest of the cliff falls away from the road. Below them fall the valleys, rise the mountains. Around them is the rustling of small grasses and shrubs, an owl somewhere far off. The cold wind. The buzz of the power lines along the road. And the soft crunch of roadside sand and gravel under Roxanne's feet as she catches up to Megamind and reaches for him, grips his elbow—

"Enough," he snarls, twisting away. "Enough. Leave me alone. Let me think."

"It wasn't your fault," she tries again, desperate, but—

"I said ENOUGH!" Megamind screams, and Roxanne jumps back like a rabbit, snatching her hands to her chest. 

His sharp features immediately contort into a mask of—dismay, regret— "I'm," he gasps as he turns to face her, shaking his head, "no, I. I'm…I didn't…"

Roxanne stares at him.

After a moment, he stumbles forward. Swings a hand up and wraps his fingers in the sleeve of her sweater, and squeezes his trembling fist there until his knuckles crack. Shaking his head at her, breathing hard and ragged through his nose, and then suddenly flinching his own eyes closed, gulping, still shaking his head.

She doesn't pull away.

Chilly October wind rushes past them, rustles the leaves and grasses at the roadside. No sirens here, no sound of the city. No more sounds of nighttime animals, either. Only the wind, and the crackling power lines above them, and Roxanne's pounding heart in her throat.

But. It's just Megamind. And he knows. He knew right away.

Roxanne swallows and pushes down her shocked adrenaline. Wordless, she steps to meet him—

As soon as her hands make contact, Megamind heaves a massive, shivering gasp of air and he staggers and crashes into her with a sound like a sob, scrambling his arms desperately around her shoulders as Roxanne pulls him into a hug. He drags the iron strength of his fingers in the knit of her sweater as he tucks his nose and mouth into the collar of it. He's shaking badly; what she can feel of his breathing is wildly uneven through the fabric of her pajama top.

How can I help, Roxanne wants to ask, but she can't make the words come. What do you need, but does he even know?

So she just holds him, there, in the middle of the road under the cold stars.

Finally she manages, "It's okay."

Megamind nods. Hugs her tighter, staring through the moonlit mountains behind her through glassy eyes.

The warmth of her body, the feeling of her arms around him…it's such a comfort. It is such a physical comfort but his brain is on fire and it is so weird and he wants to scream and shove himself away away AWAY from her so badly—he wants to snarl and throw himself away and ruin everything, I said leave me alone! I said let me think! I SAID leave me alone, I SAID let me think—but he can't. He can't. He has treated her cruelly enough. She is frantic to comfort, frantic to help; he loves her so much and it isn't her fault she's befriended something that doesn't know how to handle any of that.

And he could not let go of her if he tried.

"M'sorry," he manages. Muffled against the fabric at his mouth. Hating himself, hating her, hating everything.

And still, underneath it all, so desperately in love with her he almost can't stand it. Roxanne nods, too; once again, she fails completely to throw his apology in his face. Undeserving, Megamind chokes down another sob of love and agony so hard it spasms his whole body against hers and makes her stumble holding him.

"Whoa! You okay?"

Mute, he shakes his head. Roxanne nods again and squeezes him tight.

At home, he would probably have gone at his weights and his punching bag until his arms were shaking and his knuckles were bleeding, and then he would have thrown himself into his pool…but he has none of those things here. Maybe it would have been better to wait until they were on their way back to Metro. Maybe it would have been.

But after Roxanne went to bed earlier, Megamind had watched her breathing change as she fell asleep, and he had not been able to stop thinking.

What happened to him was made illegal in the late 1980s. Minion was kidnapped from Evil Lair in 1994. Megamind is certain he was already on several watchlists by that point—and Roxanne's uncle basically confirmed that for him, tonight. Vindication, ha.

(Roxanne's uncle. It feels like such a wild coincidence, but the deciding factor in Megamind's selection of Roxanne as his long-term pawn was that she was kind to Minion. For her to have come from a family with these connections…it isn't such a stretch.)

And. Minion said the water parameters of the tank he was thrown into were nearly identical to those of his dome.

When Minion was taken, Megamind was out of his mind with panic trying to figure out what happened. Even after Minion was home again and safe, he kept looking, kept scouring his security systems, looking for the hole in them. A hole, a rat, a backdoor he hadn't planned for—how had this happened? He had not, as a teenager, had the luxury of total independence that he has now as an adult; other hands helped him build his systems. He dug and dug and dug, looking for the key, looking for anything. Anything he could fix.

Anything to pin the break-in on someone else. Anything to let it not be his fault. He could barely eat, he was so upset.

Machiavillain was kind to him about it. "These things do happen, my boy. But a villain owns his losses. A villain learns from his mistakes. He doesn't run from them." 

So Megamind had stopped looking, and owned it. He had vowed to do better. He would not have help building his systems any more. Human hands could not be trusted. Megamind would stand alone.

The odds of the water parameters being close enough for Minion not to need to adjust at all are exceptionally slim.

(Everything today was so beautiful. This whole trip. He would never have imagined how beautiful.)

Megamind had been so bitter the first time Machiavillain approached him. Villainy, he had snapped, when the old villain asked him about his career prospects. Roxanne was right on the money with that guess: Megamind was eleven years old; he was lonely and he was tired and he missed his friends. He was nursing a black eye from a fight on the school bus that morning, he was limping. Pretty sure it's my destiny.

Machiavillain had lit up. He said it would be poetic: the black sheep, the last one picked, the screw-up now a rising star on the underworld stage. And his name! Megamind. Fit for a true master of villainy. If the world is calling you the bad boy, then isn't that destiny? If the world is calling you the bad boy, then should you not be the baddest? I could make you great! We could do incredible things!

But the world wasn't calling him the bad boy. Megamind's school was. And school was his world, back then; school was all the world he had outside of a literal prison, but…

Everything on this trip with Roxanne has been wonderful. Roxanne, herself, has been wonderful. Kind to him. Helping him to unravel his past.

Legal, once a particular level of government is surpassed, only counts for so much. Megamind knows that. But now that he is thinking about it…he remembers. He remembers fully expecting to die for throwing down the gauntlet the way he did. For issuing a direct threat against the US government the way he did. Not yet eighteen, standing tall in a towering, terrified rage, howling with fear and fury. His only source of hope was Machiavillain's rock-solid conviction that they would be able to play their chips right. Machiavillain was so sure, and this was his job, and he was great. A real professional, a master supervillain. Megamind could trust him to know what he was doing.

It was not legal to take Minion away at all. And that only goes so far, but evidently Earth was under scrutiny from other worlds even back then; an outworlder being kidnapped by one of Earth's governments would have been a nightmare. And Megamind remembers: Machiavillain was so sure. And the people Megamind was threatening to wipe from the face of the planet capitulated so quickly, and with shockingly little pushback.

("Magnificent! You were magnificent, my boy! Didn't I tell you, you could do it! You were spectacular!"

He remembers thinking, okay, wow, I must have been more impressive than I felt.)

Our calls wouldn't go through.

And the water parameters matched.

Intercepted.

Denial only goes so far, too.

Finally Megamind swallows and drags his head up. He's still shaky, but he needs to move. "I'm tired," he rasps. "Please. I'm tired. Let's go to bed."

There is a begging note in his voice that he hates, but Roxanne nods and releases him. Megamind immediately turns on his heel and resumes walking back up the hill, his heart in his throat. Tears in his eyes. It's dark enough; Roxanne won't see. He'll have blinked them away by the time they reach the hotel again.

Roxanne gulps and follows. Hesitant, she tries again to take his arm, but Megamind twists away.

"Oh—do you not want—"

"No."

"Okay." She's quiet for a while.

When the hit the parking lot, though, she ventures, "Um. When we get upstairs, do you still want—"

"Yes."

"Okay."

Megamind holds the door for her as they go inside, and he sends Bridget a tight little smile and a wave this time. He's pretty sure Roxanne acknowledges her as well, but she doesn't say anything else until they reach their floor—

"Oh no, I've been crying," she blurts, suddenly enough that Megamind jumps, "oh, my god, she probably thinks I asked you out and you shot me down, or…something, I don't know."

"She absolutely does not think that."

"How are you so sure?"

He rolls his eyes, then twists to face Roxanne and walk backwards down the hall. "Because I'm a super-secret psychic, ooOoOoOOooo," he exclaims, lifting his hands to his temples and wiggling his fingers there and sending Roxanne into a startled fit of very wet giggles.

But as he unlocks the door and waves her inside, he does mumble under his breath that such a thing would be fucking absurd—as if she would ever ask. As if he would ever, ever decline—and Roxanne peers at him from where she's already shrugging out of her enormous sweater.

"What's ducking a bird?"

Megamind sends her a very flat look, then rearranges his face into an open, indulgent expression usually seen on second-grade substitute teachers. "Yes, Roxanne, ducks ARE birds! That's very good!"

"Thbbpbpt." She throws her sweater at his head. With a quiet snort of dry amusement, Megamind catches it.

He sets it aside, shaking it out and draping it over one of the room's chairs, then rests his long, blue hand on it there for a moment. Presses his fingertips into the knit as his smile falls away.

Roxanne clears her throat. "Are you…in…?"

"No." Finally he begins to shed his own outerwear as well. He folds his own sweaters almost on reflex as he removes them before tucking them neatly into the top drawer of his side of the bureau; at home, he probably would have tossed them aside, but he is with Roxanne and he is distracted and his prison discipline is kicking in. He needs order right now. He needs to not snap at Roxanne for fretting about the undertow so goddamned constantly. "No. I'm just. Tired."

He pauses. Roxanne sees him—wilt. Just a little.

"I wanted…"

She waits.

Megamind stands at the bureau with his proud shoulders rounded, his chin bowed, his eyes shuttered. Dark.

"I want," he murmurs again.

Roxanne swallows, then turns off the lights and climbs under the covers. "Come on," she says. "You're right, it's late. Everything will look better in the morning."

"I'm not sure that's true."

"You don't have to be." She shifts around a little bit, then pats the mattress next to her. "Seriously, c'mere. I didn't say it'll look perfect, I just said it'll look better."

Slowly, moving as though he isn't sure of his joints, Megamind walks back to her, and climbs into bed.

He flops down with a sigh. "You seem so certain."

Roxanne smiles a little. Her eyes ache with crying and her heart aches with pain and her stomach is still churning with worry at his bizarrely subdued reaction. "I am," she says again. "The night gets dark, but the sun still rises."

Megamind finishes arranging his pillows to support his neck and body, and he slowly relaxes as Roxanne's arms close around him.

"Yes, well," he says, quiet, "I'm afraid that has not been one hundred percent of my experience."

Roxanne opens her eyes and gazes into the dark. Megamind's scalloped ribcage rises and falls slowly under her arm.

Finally she swallows.

"Maybe if you round up?"

Megamind snorts. Huffs with breathy startled laughter.

"Just for the sake of the metaphor, I mean," Roxanne says, nodding a little, rubbing her cheek over his skin. It's an interesting texture, smoother than her own. She still can't really believe he's letting her do this for him. "First impressions notwithstanding, you are here now. With me. This sun still rises. You're safe."

He pauses, then moves his arm to take her hand and curl his bony fingers around it with a sigh.

"I know I am," he says, and sighs. "I know."

She murmurs something else, but. Megamind isn't really listening.

He might have burned Evil Lair to the ground at home for this. He certainly would have wanted to. And he definitely would not have let himself rest—probably he would not have slept or eaten for at least two days, no matter how Minion pushed him.

But the bed here in this strange room is soft, and the room is dark, and Megamind is warm and held in Roxanne's arms. His heart is breaking in his chest, his mind and his soul are screaming and clawing at themselves with pain and rage, but he is warm and he is safe. Tomorrow will be so busy, and so dangerous. Roxanne is going to need him.

Curled on his side in bed, Megamind closes his eyes, and breathes, and fills up with the golden warmth of Roxanne behind him.

He does, eventually, sleep.

…he dreams.

He is walking in a brightly-lit corridor. White walls. Doors and doors and doors and doors and doors. He's looking for a security checkpoint he recognizes that will lead him outside. As he goes, he is checking checking checking the vents for supplies he knows he stashed, but. The vents are empty. Passing brainbots do not listen to his commands in any human language he tries, and his syrinx only flutters silently in his chest when he reaches for the languages he calls Punktsyk. His human voice fails him as well when he tries again, and…there is a tickle in the back of his skull.

He stops walking, heart pounding and voice locked, and starts to lift a hand—

(This is one of the places it goes wrong, usually. If he touches his skin he will feel the shunt's mechanism, the tube.)

—but, no, he can't touch his head. Roxanne is holding his hand; Megamind is walking and Roxanne is there now—was always there? He didn't notice? Ah well, unimportant.

More important is the fact that this hallway is not where he wants to be, not where Roxanne wants to be. Not where Megamind wants Roxanne to be; he has spikes on his shoulders and arms and a cape at his back and he needs to get her out of here. This is wrong.

Aha, this door. Correct door, at last. Yes, he steps into the prison, as expected, and ahead is the deserted checkpoint. Megamind speeds up, breaks into a jog—

(Another place it often goes wrong. Sometimes she isn't where he's looking for her, and then he just keeps running, faster and faster, looking for her, until he finds a door and darts through it hoping for Roxanne but then he's back in the void of space falling and falling and falling)

—and of course Roxanne is waiting for him, up ahead. She smiles as he approaches; Megamind smiles back.

"There you are!" Roxanne exclaims. "I'm glad I caught you, I have something to show you! Through here," and the door outside opens into her apartment, of course—

(It doesn't, always. Sometimes she shows him different things, each with their own perils and pitfalls. But it is a dream, and so it comes with the inevitability of of course this is next.)

—her apartment is familiar, warm. Almost the same as always, but…Oh.

Megamind's bed is where Roxanne's dining table should be.

"See? Now you don't have to be on the couch! What do you think?"

It's so out of place. His enormous jagged headboard, his pillows in blue and black. It doesn't belong here. He doesn't belong here. But this was so thoughtful, so kind of Roxanne to do for him. She is so kind to him. He starts to open his mouth to—thank her, to offer different colors, to offer something smaller—but. His voice. His mouth won't. He swallows but he can't move, can't speak—but he doesn't need to, of course he doesn't need to—

(This is the final place where it always—almost almost always—goes wrong if he makes it this far. This nightmare is more recent: Roxanne is waiting for him to speak. She moved her furniture, she moved his bed in. It was so much trouble, she went to so much trouble…and Megamind is just standing there with his heart in his throat, unable to tell her he loves her, unable to tell her he will happily sleep on her sofa forever if only she will let him, unable to ask what the hell she was thinking; Wayne will have a cow when he sees this.)

(It goes wrong when he realizes he needs to speak, and can't. It goes wrong when he realizes she's upset with him.)

—it doesn't matter. It's okay. Megamind is wrapped up in warmth, in the faint, sweet scent of Roxanne's hair and her skin; he doesn't need to speak. It simply isn't necessary, it doesn't even occur to him. He slips his bare, blue hand into Roxanne's much softer pink one, he slides his fingers across her palm and curls his fingers around hers, and he leans sideways…and Roxanne hums happily and leans on him, too. Both of them leaning against each other's arms, just a little.

"Yeah?" She sounds very pleased. "You like it?"

Smiling, he nods. He opens his mouth to tell her yes, but his heart chokes him, so he just sends her a bright bright smile instead, with happy eyes, and more nodding. It will be enough. She'll understand. And if she doesn't it will be okay. Of course, it will.

Roxanne beams at him. "Good," she says. "Yay, I thought you would! Do you want coffee? Do you need to go home?"

"This is home," he says without thinking.

"Aw, you goof. You know what I mean." She's bustling around the coffeemaker, grinding beans, unfolding a filter. A couple of brainbots are flanking, watching. "Can you get us some mugs?" It's Minion's kitchen around them now, when Megamind looks, but it's as warm as Roxanne's apartment. Warmer. It's cozy. He likes it. He loves this.

I wish I could tell you I love you, he thinks, but—there's a flash of anxiety—if she finds out, what—

Machiavillain is at the kitchen table. Staring from Megamind to Roxanne with absolute disgust on his handsome face.

"So, this is what you've gone wandering for," he says, scorn in the music of his voice. "This is why you've abandoned your post? For love?"

Megamind's stomach turns over and he feels the old knot of tension pull tight between his shoulderblades as he tries to keep himself square and upright, tall.

Roxanne turns away from the coffee. "You do not talk to him like that."

"You could have been great. Better even than me, you were a prodigy," Machiavillain tells him, "best of my students. And now look at you," lip curling—

"You do not talk to him like that," Roxanne says again. "Megamind, tell him."

"Oh, the bitch thinks she gets to give him orders?" Machiavillain starts to rise, mismatched eyes flashing. "You will know your place, you—"

Nonononono—

Megamind steps in front of Roxanne. Long strides. Shoulders back, head up, hips cocked. "You heard her."

At the sink behind him and to the side, busy with the dishes, Minion says, "I really wish you would tell him not to come back, Sir. He's no good for you."

Machiavillain is wearing the face that means he is about to start shouting. Lips parted, front teeth together. Sharp brows low over his aquiline nose, his long ears pinned back.

"You heard them," Megamind says. His stomach is twisting and his lungs feel shaky and empty as they always do upon defying his teacher. "Leave me alone."

His old mentor's eyes narrow. "Heard who," he says, derisive, settling back into his seat. "There's no one there."

Megamind doesn't move. Behind him, Roxanne is silent, but she's there. She's there. He knows. Minion is at the sink behind him and to the side, and Roxanne is at his back. "Liar."

"It's just us here, you obstinate child," Machiavillain snaps. "You're alone. See for yourself."

"I don't want to," Megamind snarls. Roxanne would not run. This is her home. It would not be so warm in here if it was not Roxanne's home, if she was not here too. It smells of her hair. It is not Machiavillain's any longer.

And if he looked, and when she was there, then he would be mocked for his uncertainty. Love is unwavering, can't even do that right, this is why you are a villain; you are too alien, built wrong— Megamind knows Machiavillain's feelings on love, but Machiavillain also knows Megamind's.

But he doesn't look, because why would he need to, and so Machiavillain rolls his eyes. "I am retiring to my quarters," he says, rising, "you're being ridiculous. Come and find me when you're ready to apologize."

Oh. Another sharp, shrinking feeling. That used to be a fairly frequent parting shot when the two of them were at odds, but apologizing to Machiavillain always left Megamind feeling like an especially stupid child.

And the worst of it—the worst time—

"You have done nothing wrong today," comes Roxanne's voice from behind him. Megamind is warm, warm, and Roxanne is there and Machiavillain lied—

"I love you," he says, aching.

His mentor whips around in a flash of silver hair and magenta uniform, is in front of him in two strides, and he smacks Megamind across the face with all his strength.

The sound of his open palm echoes sharply through the wide-open space of Main Storage. Megamind staggers badly.

Machiavillain catches him, wide-eyed with dismay. "Oh, my dear boy," he says, "oh, no. I'm. I'm so sorry." Pressing his gloved hand to Megamind's cheek. He certainly does seem genuinely remorseful. "Please, you…you have to understand. Love is…abhorrent, it's repellent. Certainly a powerful tool, in the right hands, as with any other poison, but…it simply has no place in you. Love is the purvey of heroes and other weaklings. And so human." His fingers on Megamind's shoulder, his hand on Megamind's face, disgust in the set of his features, shaking his head. "I could never hurt you, but you're better than this. I know you're better than this. Forgive me."

Dazed, Megamind is nodding, nodding, but—

This is wrong. This isn't right. Everything is warm and golden and Megamind can smell lavender and hemp, Roxanne's shampoo. He has a bed in Roxanne's home.

"Yes?" Rubbing his gloved thumb over Megamind's skin. "You understand?"

"Yes," he says, numb, heart pounding, "but…wait, no…you're dead; you…but you're dead. I was glad when you died, I was glad—"

Machiavillain steps back. He looks stricken but he's speaking as though he hasn't heard. "You're better than this. My rising star," he says, pressing a hand to his chest, clenching the other at his side, "my beautiful muse. I know you're better than this." Another step, and then exactly the same as Megamind remembers, of course, "You come find me when you're ready to apologize."

He turns on his heel and hurries away towards the hallway.

Megamind is left staring after him. Heart aching. Not even broken, just…hurting. Confused.

Behind him, Roxanne's voice again.

"I love you, too."

Megamind turns just in time to see her carefully set a plate with an egg sandwich onto the spotless surface of Machiavillain's workstation, next to their two coffees. The liquid in Megamind's big mug is shining and shifting with the slightly off viscosity that tells him she's made it the way he loves it: adding sugar until it precipitates out.

"Come here," Roxanne says, stepping forward, and she softly touches his smarting cheek with the backs of her fingers for a moment…and then Megamind buries his face against her warm shoulder as she wraps her arms around him.

"I think I might be just a little bit messed up," Megamind mumbles.

"It's okay."

After a moment, he raises his head and peers at her.

Roxanne is smiling at him. She lifts her hand and touches Megamind's face again. He doesn't flinch.

"It's okay," she says. "We'll figure it out. Whatever you do, if you're breathing tomorrow, it's the right thing to do, remember?"

"That covers an awful lot of ground."

She shrugs. Still smiling.

Megamind closes his eyes. Tips his head forward to meet Roxanne's. "Tell me again?"

"Tell you what?"

He sighs.

"I think I'd like to wake up now," he hears himself say, and—

—opens his eyes with a sharp inhale.

Dark hotel room. Heavy curtains, shadowy chairs, unlit lamp. In front of him, pillows. Behind him, Roxanne.

He releases his breath.

Fuck.

The shadows are a different indigo than when he last saw them, and Megamind's heart is shivering in his chest, and his stomach is queasy and his head is spinning. None of which are good signs.

FUCK.

Slowly, he eases forward and rolls onto his back. Roxanne stirs and mumbles something as he starts to sit up, and then she says, "Hm? You okay?"

She sounds slurred. Disoriented. Ah, beloved.

"Oh, yes," he says. His own low voice is rough with sleeping too. His nose is congested. "Just had some kind of weird dream."

"No nightmares?"

"I don't know." He breathes for a moment, then says, "I need to be upright."

Roxanne withdraws, and Megamind is immediately rolling out of bed. Looking around, shaking out his arms. He's cold and he has the same ripped-in-half feeling at leaving as he did this morning, but the temperature at least is…rejuvenating. Refreshing. He turns to the nightstand for a tissue and blows his nose. Blots his eyes. Exhales.

Yawning, Roxanne pushes herself up as well.

Megamind glances at her. "You can go back to sleep—"

She shakes her head. Blinks at him.

He swallows.

This was twice. He doesn't want to talk, but…if he doesn't, it'll be two and then three. He can already tell.

Besides, it's dark. And this is Roxanne.

"You were there," he says. "And him."

Roxanne makes a sound of sleepy interest.

Megamind hesitates.

"I think," he says, the words tasting familiar, "I might be a little bit messed up."

Halfway through another yawn, Roxanne huffs a laugh. "I mean," when Megamind blinks over at her with offended confusey eyebrows, "you're a supervillain, so…yeah? I think that's kinda the prerequisite?"

He feels his expression clear. "Ah, yes. That is fair."

She sniffs. "Plus, there's the whole…everything. Earlier. That'd mess anybody up. But it doesn't mean you're bad." She swallows. "Messed up how? What'happend?

The room is soft and dark around them. Cool, but still warm compared to the autumn chill outside. Under the blankets, Megamind knows, the temperature is almost unbearably cozy and lovely, but for now…for now, he turns to look out the balcony door's tall pane of glass with his arms over his chest.

Roxanne will probably understand, he thinks. And if she doesn't, it'll be okay.

He says, "I loved him."

Another interested sound, and he hears her sniffle again and rustle around a little bit. "Oh," she says, "aw. I'm sorry. Um…so, wait. You…?"

"I wish I could tell you."

It's true. He doesn't really even know what he meant, himself. He hadn't given himself enough time to figure it out before he said it, and then after he said it he tried his hardest to forget about it altogether.

"I don't know," he says, when Roxanne just waits. "He was…paternal, frequently. Other times he seemed like more of an older brother. A teacher." He takes a deep breath. "And often simply a friend, but I admired him. Deeply. He…made me. Perfected me." He can't keep the resentment out of his voice. "So…I don't know." He pauses. Slowly says, "Maybe romantically. I…don't know."

She hums. Doesn't sound judgmental, that's good. Megamind hisses his breath between his teeth, frowning out at the moonlit valleys. Shaking his head as he thinks.

He was glad when Machiavillain died. Not in any angry way, but in a relieved way. And he had tried not to think too hard about that, had claimed his destruction and tried to simply move forward, but…

Roxanne's voice makes him jump a little bit.

"You ever tell him?"

"Once," he hears himself say, instead of no.

She's quiet.

He isn't really thinking about it when he drops his arms and shifts to stand at parade rest, with his hands behind him. He lifts his chin. Squares his shoulders. The old knot in his back twinges in protest. He isn't thinking about it at all until Roxanne rustles out of bed and comes to stand with him at the door.

He glances over at her and raises an eyebrow.