Rain on the Just - NLRummi (2024)

Chapter 1: Facing the Music

Chapter Text

"…For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust." - Matthew 5:45

Chapter 1 - Facing the Music

There were some things Metro Man just didn't understand.

Like money, for instance.

Oh, he was well familiar with money as a general necessity. He understood that it greased the wheels of commerce and justice, and that the free market depended on the profitable exchange of goods for currency. It wasn't as though he couldn't grasp the overall concept of capitalism; he had grown up wealthy, after all. No, where he fell short was in the finer details - because, quite frankly, Metro Man had never paid for anything.

He had done so as Wayne Scott, of course. But even then it had been different. His manner of payment had always been what most would probably consider overly generous. As a young man growing up, and the son of the richest couple in town, when he wanted something, he didn't just pay for it, he "traded cash" for it. Because when money is no object, actual costs quickly become insignificant details. Wayne had developed a habit of simply handing over whatever cash was in his possession to cover any expenses, no matter what it was for. It always kept things very easy for him.

Magazine? Well, I have a ten here.

Box of donuts? This roll of twenties should cover it.

Oh no, no, citizen friend! Please, keep the change!

With all that carefree spending, it was no wonder people loved him, long before he ever officially became Metro Man. But it was only further evidence of the fact that he had no real concept of the value of money.

After he fully assumed the identity of Metro Man and became Metro City's full-time defender, money had still been no object. In fact, it morphed into a complete non-issue. After all, who in their right mind would have even considered charging the city's hero for anything? Although he still had the wealth and privilege to buy whatever he wanted, Metro Man often found everything from custom-made artwork to top-shelf liquor to groceries to packs of gum shoved at him eagerly along with the customary lines of "On the house!" or "Your money's no good here, sir!"

It was probably just as well, since his uniform had no pockets. So he'd stopped carrying rolls of twenties years ago.

Now, however, things were different. Metro Man was "dead". And people didn't think twice about charging Music Man for movie tickets or Chinese take-out or a cup of coffee. It had been a shock to the system at first - even a little exciting. He'd never been so exhilaratingly ordinary before, and learning to navigate through the foreign world of Normal was a bit of a thrill. Music Man found poverty to be strangely liberating in the beginning, and even went so far as to dub himself a kind of "starving artist".

The novelty didn't last, however, and the Starving-Artist-Formerly-Known-as-Metro-Man finally realized how tough it was to be well and truly broke.

And isolated. He hadn't expected that. In a way, it was far worse.

There were no more adoring smiles aimed in his direction, no insistent "On the house, sir," each time he would pat his empty pockets - a gleaming grin his only method of payment. (There weren't many smiles at all, in fact. Not anymore.) For the first time in his life, he actually found himself going without things he needed or wanted due to lack of funds.

One particularly gruff citizen had even accused him of being a thief one morning when Music Man casually took a newspaper from a sidewalk kiosk downtown. As the man began yelling, Music Man had instinctively looked around, ready to confront whomever might be thieving from this honest entrepreneur. Then the man exited his kiosk and jabbed an accusing finger directly into his broad chest. Music Man blinked, confused. There had to have been some mistake. He was Justice. Justice didn't thieve.

It took him a moment to grasp why the man was so angry. As Metro Man he'd never had trouble procuring the daily news; most vendors were more than happy to simply give it to him. But apparently, to average citizens like Music Man, periodicals were not free. He managed a quick, if dramatic, apology ("SO SORRY, FRIEND AND FELLOW AVERAGE CITIZEN!"), and left without his paper. He shoved his hands into the otherwise empty pockets of his trench and wondered how much it actually cost to read the news these days.

It was especially frustrating because, technically, he still had access to money - a great deal of it, in fact. Retrieving it, however, posed its own problems. He still had significant funds from his late parents' estate, and the Scott Foundation continued to generate a steady income through the family business. But when one is officially "dead," the funds in one's bank account are probably not supposed to start depleting afterward. It was slowly becoming clear to Music Man that, for as glad as he was to be retired from his superhero life, his spontaneous decision to do so - and the way he'd decided to do it - were probably more than a little hasty.

Why had he never thought to employ a loyal, elderly butler who could manage those things for him?

He found himself thinking about his old nemesis. A lot. Even though Megamind's evil schemes rarely worked, he was nothing if not a meticulous planner. Music Man was sure the little guy would have noticed a few potential holes in the death-faking idea, but it was too late to dwell on that now.

Music Man resigned himself to the fact that, until his musical stylings began weaving the magic he was hoping for, there were luxuries he was just going to have to live without - at least for a while. However, that wasn't the most difficult part of his self-imposed exile.

The worst part was the change in how people looked at him - or, rather, the fact that most people didn't bother to look at him at all anymore. Throughout his entire life, both as Wayne Scott and as Metro Man, he had been surrounded by eager, adoring smiles. Before his "death" at the abandoned observatory, he had basked in a veritable sea of them. Now, it was as though he went through every minute of every day at super-speed - walking among people who didn't even know he was there.

He'd never felt so invisible before. It was alien. He didn't like it. And yet he couldn't do anything about it.

Of course, there were two individuals out there in Metro City who probably would not have ignored him - the only two who knew Metro Man wasn't actually dead. But after he had refused to help them with the Titan problem several months back, he wasn't sure they'd really care to see him again. Ever.

He really had burned all his bridges, hadn't he?

It was rare that he ventured away from his Schoolhouse of Solitude anymore. Some days, however - when the silence just became too thick, or writing lyrics became too frustrating (What rhymes with valiantry, anyway?) - he just needed to get outside for a while. Today he had had a particularly good stroke of luck - he had found a ten-dollar bill on the sidewalk.

While Metro Man would have combed the city tirelessly until he found the rightful owner (cross-referencing serial numbers and analyzing fingerprints), Music Man really, really, really wanted a decent cup of coffee. So, a few minutes later, he found himself standing in line at the Café Beanery, fingertips massaging one side of his hirsute jaw as he tried to decide if he wanted a simple cup of black, or if he should splurge most of his good fortune on a large triple-shot espresso with soy milk and a splash of Irish Cream.

In the end, he decided to indulge.

When the young barista placed his order on the counter, Music Man dug into the pocket of his trenchcoat for the money he had found earlier. Immeasurably pleased that, for once, he could trade the correct currency for his purchase, he flashed the girl a gleaming smile as he proffered the bill.

"Hey," he said, happily co*cking one eyebrow. "Thanks so much."

She looked him in the eye and slid the cup toward him on the counter. She returned his smile sweetly. "No payment needed, sir," she replied.

Music Man's stomach did a strange little flutter. While it was wonderful to hear that familiar response again after so long, his brain was suddenly going a mile a minute trying to figure out the reason she had said it.

Had he said something - done something - to give himself away? Had she simply recognized him? Did the other patrons also know? His eyes shifted anxiously as he tried to maintain the integrity of his smile. "R-really?"

His attention was so distracted he almost missed the girl's next words. "The lady over there already took care of it," she said. "Have a nice day."

Music Man backed away from the counter and a few other customers stepped forward to take his place. He turned around and his eyes darted through the sea of people filling the busy coffee shop. A moment later, the crowd parted like a curtain and Music Man caught sight of a young woman sitting cross-legged at one of the tables near the wall.

She was looking unmistakably in his direction. One corner of her mouth curled up into a grin. She raised an open hand and fluttered the fingertips at him.

Music Man's face blossomed into a more genuine smile. His anxiety from a moment ago melted away and even some of the emotional heaviness he had been carrying around lately seemed to lessen a bit. He advanced through the crowd, taking care not to jostle anyone else or spill his hot beverage. As he reached the table where the woman was sitting, the only greeting he was able to manage was, "Hey."

As usual, the woman had no trouble finding her words. "You should be careful with that drink," she said. Her voice was pleasant, but with an unmistakable bite of dry wit. "Their espresso machine is made of copper, you know."

Music Man rolled his eyes self-depreciatingly, then focused again on the woman. "Nice to see you, Roxie," he said.

Roxanne Ritchi's afternoon breaks felt so blissfully long nowadays. Of course, she had the same standard lunch hour given to all KMCP employees, but for years it hadn't exactly been a leisurely time for her. If she wanted lunch, or even just a cup of coffee, she only ever seemed to be able to spare a few minutes for it. The inevitable, imminent kidnappings were constantly looming over her downtime. They didn't occur every day, of course, but they could occur any day. And that was the problem.

Now that Megamind was defending Metro City instead of terrorizing it, Roxanne's afternoon breaks were free and clear. Since she was no longer inhaling her lunch at break-neck speed, most days she had more time than she knew what to do with. Passing the hour at leisure in her favorite café had become a new routine. She liked it much better than the old one.

When she caught a glimpse of the familiar, muscle-bound frame of Metro City's former hero at the counter, she wasn't sure how to react at first. Part of her still wanted to be angry with him for his outright refusal to help all those months ago when the city had needed him so badly. At the same time, she couldn't exactly say she was disappointed with the way things had turned out in the end. Sure, being threatened with horrific bodily injury and death wouldn't have been her choice, but the situation did ultimately propel Megamind into becoming the hero that he truly was. That was a very good thing.

And now that Roxanne actually was dating the Defender of Metro City (a man who was decidedly - if surprisingly - more her type), she couldn't help but feel part of that was thanks, at least a little, to Metro Man's decision.

Thinking of her relationship with Megamind made her smile and, on impulse, she caught the attention of a nearby waitress and offered to pay for whatever the gentleman in the trenchcoat was ordering.

Bygones, and all that.

Besides, it wasn't as though anyone else realized the guy was still alive - at least as far as she knew. He probably wouldn't mind seeing a familiar face.

When he approached her table, she had expected a thank-you, maybe a few minutes of small-talk to catch up. She hadn't expected him to settle himself into the seat across from her, looking for all the world like he never wanted to move again. As a reporter, Roxanne was very good at reading people, but she wouldn't have required even the most basic skills in her repertoire for this one; the man across from her was an open book.

He was lonely.

Which was why, as her lunch hour wound down, she placed a quick call to her producer, Alan, told him a little white lie about having a lead on a story, and stayed at the Café Beanery well past break-time.

"You use words for a living, Roxie," Music Man said. He absentmindedly swirled the little wooden stirrer in his second cup of espresso. "What rhymes with valiantry?"

Roxanne chuckled. "I'm not sure that's even a real word," she said. "But maybe gallantry?"

"Ooh!" he exclaimed. "I actually like that one better!" He dug around in his pocket, pulled out a pencil that looked as though it had been terrorized numerous times by his super-overbite, and scratched the word next to the coffee ring on his napkin.

"Are they all about heroism?" Roxanne asked. She picked at the remains of the muffin she had ordered after she'd decided to stay at the café.

Music Man shrugged. "Gotta write what you know, right?" he replied, shoving the pencil and the napkin into his pocket.

"So the new calling is going well, then?" she said. "Will we be hearing any more hit songs soon?" Inwardly, she cringed at the idea, but tried to seem as interested as possible.

Music Man made a non-committal noise and bobbed his head back and forth. "I don't know," he said. "Don't get me wrong, the music is in my soul, Roxie. I'm just having a hard time knowing when to stop perfecting it. I must have re-vamped See Right Through Lead a dozen times by now."

Roxanne smiled and sipped her coffee. "Writing is a process," she said. "I guess you'll know when it's right. Have you updated it since you sent that demo to Megamind?"

Music Man spluttered into his drink. He blinked at her for a moment, dabbing a few droplets of espresso from his beard, then said, "I didn't send him a copy."

Roxanne's eyes widened a bit and she looked at him over the rim of her cup. After a second her face broke into an amused grin that she couldn't have kept back if she'd tried. "Well, he got a demo from somewhere," she informed him. "He listens to it once in a while when he's working." Of course, she stopped short of telling him just how much that irritated Minion.

Music Man shook his head, looking bemused. "Diabolical," he muttered. A corner of his mouth turned up into a small grin.

He cleared his throat and stared down into the swirling whirlpool he'd created in his drink. "So . . . ," he said. "How are things with the little guy?" He looked up. "And with you?"

Roxanne's smile softened. She had known the conversation would segue in that direction eventually. "Good," she said. "And good. They've reopened the museum, you know."

"I saw," he replied with a nod. "I went to the dedication."

"Did you?" Roxanne was actually a little surprised to hear that. She resisted asking him if he'd felt tempted to crash it. Tit-for-tat, after all.

"I think it's great he's got his own now," he said.

Roxanne smiled. "You haven't been inside it, then," she observed.

"No, not yet," he answered. "Why?"

"Well, because half of it is still your old museum," she told him. It felt wrong to let the former superhero think he had been completely replaced, even if he had been the one to choose his own exit.

"Really?" Music Man's eyebrows raised beneath the brim of his fedora. He looked both surprised and secretly pleased.

"Of course," Roxanne assured him. "It's a memorial now. Metro City wasn't about to completely forget its Metro Man. Sure, they replaced the statue that was destroyed, but most of the exhibits inside were still okay. They just converted one of the wings. Believe it or not," she added conspiratorially, "Megamind was actually nervous about the prospect of his own section in the museum when they first suggested the idea."

Music Man gave a sharp snort of amusem*nt.

"I know!" she said. "The poster-boy for megalomania! You'd think he'd be all over that! But he's been trying so hard to do good, I actually think he was worried that there wouldn't be enough to exhibit. I mean, you had years of heroism under your belt when they built the museum for you. So in the end, his wing is actually dedicated more to his work in science and technology - he seemed to like that idea."

"A science museum," Music Man echoed. "That sounds really great."

"With one floor focusing on classic rock-and-roll, for some reason," Roxanne added.

Music Man chuckled deep in his chest. "I'm glad the good fight is agreeing with him."

Roxanne shrugged and nodded as she took another sip of her coffee. "Like he was made for it," she said. "I guess that shouldn't surprise me - in hindsight, he was never very good at being evil."

Music Man smiled down into his drink. He looked lost in thought.

Roxanne leaned toward him and ducked her head into his line of sight. He glanced up at her.

"You know," she said softly, "it's funny how you're probably the one person who might understand this better than anybody." She inched forward on her chair and looked him full in the face. "Can I be perfectly frank? There's something I need to be able to say out loud . . . to someone who might actually get it."

Music Man nodded. "Sure thing, Roxie."

"Megamind really is a hero," she said. "Sure, the city accepts him for the most part, people cheer for him now, and they call him their defender, but I don't think any of them really realize . . .

"He's not super strong or super fast. And he isn't unnecessarily reckless," she continued. "Just determined . . . like that's his superpower, or something. I mean, I always knew he was stubborn, but until these last few months I never knew he was that brave." Roxanne shrugged and waved a hand through the air absently. "You probably think it's weird for me to be telling you this, but . . . I guess I just thought someone besides me should know the extent of it. He deserves that much. He's the bravest person I've ever met."

Music Man had glanced away from her as she spoke and was staring introspectively at a corner of the table, nodding.

"I guess I just figured another hero would be able to relate," Roxanne added.

"You're right, I do get it. The hero part, at least," Music Man replied with a smile. "Bravery, though . . ." He made another little non-committal bob of his head. "Let's just say I always knew that about him. I even envied it sometimes."

Roxanne snorted. Then she saw he was serious and sobered a bit. "What are you talking about?" she asked. "Don't forget who you're dealing with here! I had a front-row seat every time you faced down killer robot dinosaurs, spider monsters, ray guns, explosives, crazy boxing kittens, that stupid unicorn thing . . ." She ticked the list off with her fingers.

"And walked away without a scratch every time," he said with a small chuckle and a dismissive swipe of his hand. He was still smiling, but Roxanne could swear she detected a hint of bitterness in his manner.

"Nothing he threw at me was ever really going to hurt me," Music Man continued. "Even when he 'killed' me, he really didn't. There's a difference between being brave and being indestructible, Roxie. It's kind of hard to display any real courage when there's no real danger - no real risk. You can't be brave if you don't really have anything to lose."

He stiffened for a moment, then dug into his pocket. Pulling out the pencil and the napkin again, he scribbled something down. "That would make a great ballad," he muttered absently.

Roxanne had been staring at him throughout his speech. Then she scowled. A moment later she shot her foot forward beneath the table and connected sharply with his shin.

"Ow," he said in surprise. He rubbed the spot where she had kicked and looked up with a sad-puppy expression. Roxanne knew the reaction was more of a reflex. Of course she hadn't hurt him. He just looked confused.

She sighed, exasperated. "Are you super-types always so mopey?" she said. "Is this just something I've never noticed before?"

He blinked at her. Then his face spread into a more genuine smile. He chuckled. "Hey!" he retorted. "Super-types don't mope. We brood."

"Oh my god, yes you do mope!" she drawled out. "I just sat here watching you mope! And so does Megamind! There's nothing 'broody' about it. When he's down, he mopes like a -- a Big Moping Thing! Like if it takes too long to figure out a problem, or if he can't be everywhere at once, or if he picks a film for movie night that I've already seen . . . I've never met anyone who has a harder time just letting things go! But . . . ," she shrugged as she came down from her tirade. Her mouth curled into an affectionate smile. "I guess that's all part of the whole he-never-gives-up package. So I can't complain too much."

She glanced over to see Music Man was still smiling at her. She blushed under the scrutiny of his eyes and looked away. He scratched his fingers through the salt-and-pepper whiskers of his beard and leaned forward. "So, you two are-"

"Dating?" Roxanne finished for him, grinning down at the table. She swept her bangs across her forehead and tucked a few loose strands behind her ear. "Yes. A few months now."

"Happy?"

"Yes," she answered, finally looking up at him again.

Music Man continued to smile. "Wow," he mused.

Roxanne shrugged. "It's not like it's always easy," she said. "Like I said, he's a handful. But, yeah. For the most part, it's been pretty great."

Music Man interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on the dome they created as he leaned on the table. "Roxie's got a new hero, huh?" He actually sounded wistful. It made Roxanne smile sadly.

Contrary to popular belief, she and Metro Man had never been a couple. But there was something about the tone of his voice right now that made her feel the need to reassure his ego for some reason. Pointing out the truth - that they were never really each other's type - struck her as a tad cruel and unnecessary at this juncture, so she settled on a more diplomatic and assuaging reply.

"Metro Man will always be my hero," she told him, reaching forward to squeeze his arm. She batted her lashes dramatically as she spoke, but he seemed to be genuinely pleased by the gesture.

Music Man grinned. "You know it, Roxie," he said. "And if Megamind doesn't treat you right . . ." He cracked the knuckles of one fist in the grip of his other hand.

Roxanne laughed. "Okay," she said. "I don't think that will be much of an issue, though, to be honest. Megamind is so careful when it comes to our relationship. I think he's still a little afraid of making mistakes. He'd probably put himself out of commission if he ever thought he'd done something really wrong. But it's like I said: brave. He doesn’t let the fact that he's unsure get in the way of us being together.

"I don't know if I really deserve all that," she added. "Sometimes he's so respectful it makes me nuts - even down to the way he says my name - but I wouldn't want him to be any other way."

"What do you mean?" Music Man asked with a grin. "Does he call you Your Highness, or something?

Roxanne laughed again. "Let me put it this way," she said. "Every other person I've ever known in my entire life has called me by a nickname at one point or another. Even when they knew I hated it. I've put up with Rox . . . Roxie . . . Foxy . . . Foxy-Roxie . . . Rox-a-Roni . . . Bubblehead . . ."

Music Man opened his mouth.

"Don't ask."

He closed it again with an audible pop and made a motion across his lips like a zipper.

"But with Megamind, it's always 'Roxanne'. Always," she said. "And the way he says it - with a reverence I'm not sure I've earned - but still . . ." She shrugged. "I kind of love it."

Music Man nodded quietly. "Reverence," he said after a moment. "That's a good word too."

For a few silent seconds Roxanne fidgeted with her now-empty coffee cup. She tapped it absently on the surface of the table, then set it aside pointedly. "You know," she said, "it might not be a bad idea for you to get in touch with him."

"Oh no," Music Man quickly answered. He sat straighter in his seat, back away from her. "No, I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why not?" Roxanne's voice rose inquisitively.

"He's got his own thing now," he said. "I wouldn't want him to think I was trying to, you know, muscle in."

Roxanne scowled. What was it with the men in her life and their over-developed pride? "Music Man-"

"Wayne," he interrupted. "Please."

Roxanne's features instantly softened; her momentary hostility calmed. "Wayne," she said more gently. After a beat she reached forward and covered his hand with hers on the table. "He listens to that song while he's working, he wears that silly old cape of yours around the lair. Something tells me he wouldn't be completely resistant to a little superhero advice from a seasoned veteran. He may even welcome the banter."

"That may be," Wayne replied. "But there's a history . . . I'm not sure if he told you."

"You mean besides the years you both spent fighting for all the city to see?" Roxanne nodded. "I've gotten bits and pieces," she said. "I'm not saying you have to do it today, Wayne. I wouldn't expect you two to suddenly morph into a buddy-cop movie. Just promise me you'll think about it. Even if one of you is retired, you're both technically on the same team now."

Wayne flashed her a lopsided grin. It was infinitely more appealing than that gleaming, toothy one he always used to wear. "I'll think about it," he assured her.

"Good." Roxanne returned his smile and took a moment to study his face. "And, for the record, I think you're wrong about something."

"What's that?"

She crossed her arms, leaned forward against the table, and lowered her voice. "Quick question first: Have you told anyone else that you're not really dead?"

Wayne shifted in his seat. "I've been dedicating a lot of time to my music," he said.

"So you haven't," she guessed.

"It kinda defeats the purpose of faking your own death if you go around telling people about it," he answered matter-of-factly.

"So you're telling me, even after all these months, only two people know that Metro Man is still alive?" she whispered. "One of whom is a 'nosy reporter' who could blow the lid off everything if she really wanted to," she added, smirking at him.

Wayne's reaction was immediate. His eyes snapped to her face; his expression hardened. Roxanne noted the unmistakable flash of shock and . . . something else.

Just behind his eyes - a hint of fear.

There it is.

Bullets bounced right off him. He could face down an entire robot army without blinking. Even a death ray couldn't faze the guy. But the idea of his adoring public suddenly thinking less of him - that was clearly another story.

Her smirk faded and her gaze softened. She placed a reassuring hand back on top of his. "Don't worry," she assured him softly. "But I think you might be looking at this 'bravery' thing from the wrong perspective. Not everyone shows courage the same way, you know. Maybe, when you're ready, you'll find yours."

Roxanne picked up her cell phone from the table and glanced at the time. "Oh, I really have to get back!" she said. She pushed her chair out and tossed her empty cup into the nearby trash.

As she stood up she glanced down at her companion again and felt an unconscious smile spread across her face. Part of her still hadn't completely forgiven him for what had happened. But after spending time with him this afternoon, she had caught a glimpse of some hidden layers he had never shown before when he was Metro Man. Parts of him were just as unsure of himself as Megamind was. And, like Megamind, he was going to have to work through those issues.

But also like Megamind, there was no reason he had to do it completely on his own. Who else did the guy have, after all?

"You know," she said as she lifted her purse strap onto her shoulder. "If you ever want to take a break from the lyric-writing, maybe we could do this again sometime. I understand you're not ready to have a face-to-face with Megamind yet, but you've got a friend right here." She gestured to herself.

Wayne smiled. "I'd like that," he said. "And thanks again for the coffee, Roxie." He paused, then after a moment he amended, "Roxanne."

Something inside Roxanne Ritchi melted a little. In all the time she had known him, she never felt particularly close to the man who had always been her stalwart rescuer. Possibly because nearly every conversation they ever had felt more like a performance – a play for a crowd. A grand-scale, overblown, superhero melodrama. It certainly never felt as though he had ever actually listened to her.

". . . Don't panic, Roxie! . . . Yeah, I'm not panicking . . ."

But with that one word, Roxanne suddenly felt as though he had finally heard something she had said, and actually taken it to heart. Maybe there was hope for the big guy yet.

In an impulsive moment, Roxanne stepped around the table toward him, leaned down and placed a quick kiss on the side of his cheek. Even though, according to popular theory, they had allegedly been in a relationship for years, she had never kissed him before - not even as a thank-you. He had never really earned it before.

Roxanne smiled at him one more time, gave him a little wave and turned to leave the café. After a few steps she stopped and turned again. "Don't forget to think about what I said," she reminded him. "I know someone who would probably benefit from talking to you too."

"Okay, okay," he said with a wave of his hand. "I said I'd think it over."

Roxanne turned for the door again. Even though most of the crowd was gone by now, she still managed to bump into someone in the process. She must have been more distracted than she realized.

She reached out to grab what had tumbled from the young man's hands as they collided. Roxanne breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was only a cell phone and not a hot cup of coffee. That would have been the last thing she needed! Returning to the office with a blouse full of cappuccino wouldn't have done much to support her claim that she had spent the afternoon following a lead for a story. She didn't exactly relish the idea of getting busted for being on a two-hour break instead.

"Oops! I'm so sorry!" she apologized. She gave the phone the once-over to make sure she hadn't damaged it, then handed it back to the man. "Here you go."

The young man simply accepted it with a small grateful grumble and walked away.

Roxanne turned back to Wayne only to see he had been laughing at the whole scene. She shrugged, offered him one final smile, then stepped out of the café into the bright afternoon sun.

To be continued...

Chapter 2: Code: Operation Playtime

Chapter Text

Chapter 2 - Code: Operation Playtime

Roxanne managed to avoid raising suspicion at work regarding her long afternoon. Even when Alan inquired as to the story she had supposedly been following, she covered well - especially since she always had any number of potential stories on the back burner. She couldn't make a habit of it, of course. Due to her countless kidnappings over the years, she already spent less cumulative time at the office than most others at KMCP. But the ratings garnered by those kidnappings - not to mention her exclusive interviews with Metro Man as a result - always seemed to keep her station manager pleased. Just to be on the safe side today, though, Roxanne decided to compensate by staying at work a little later than usual.

It was nearing dusk when she finally made it to the industrial part of town, and Megamind's Evil Lair. (He couldn't seem to break himself of the habit of calling it that. Then again, neither could she.)

Roxanne approached the graffitied exterior wall and felt the hologram masking the secret entrance hum over her skin as she passed through it. Once inside, she paused a moment and simply listened. Whenever she entered the lair she could expect to be greeted with anything from eerie silence to rock music to violent detonations. It was anyone's guess what each visit might bring. She always wanted to be prepared for whatever that might be.

Today it sounded as though it was a little of the latter - and something else she hadn't heard in a while.

Was that . . . She paused again. . . . diabolical laughter?

Curious, Roxanne moved through what passed for a large storage area toward the door leading to the main room of the factory-turned-lair. She pushed it open carefully, not sure what she might encounter on the other side.

She wasn't surprised when a few brainbots squeezed through the opening in the door, as she could usually expect to be greeted by some when she arrived. Roxanne clutched her purse more tightly against her in case one of the little floating bear traps decided her appearance meant an impromptu game of fetch. She had already lost two handbags that way.

She was a little surprised when the brainbots ignored her completely, wriggled their way past, and scattered into the high corners of the storage chamber. The electric, staccato complaint of their mechanical voices trailed away into the darkness. They seemed to be . . . fleeing.

Well, this should be interesting, Roxanne thought.

As she made her way into the lair the noises grew louder. There was no sign of anyone straight ahead, where diagrams, schematics, collages, blueprints, photos, sketches, post-its, random reminders, and other little scraps of paper all combined to create the bizarre mobile along Megamind's idea-wall. A small explosion shook the lair, and Roxanne turned her attention to the side room just to the left.

As she rounded the corner, she noticed that the room looked like a war zone. A table was overturned and in pieces, there was detritus and other . . . stuff . . . all over the floor, much of it charred beyond recognition, and there were trace scents of ozone in the air. If it was anyone else, Roxanne might have been concerned. But this was Megamind. So instead, she leaned against the doorframe (presumably a spot where she wouldn't get caught in any kind of crossfire), folded her arms with a smile, and waited.

She didn't have to wait long.

A flash of what looked like laser-fire blazed in front of the doorway. There was another small explosion off to the right and an answering bark of laughter to the left. Roxanne grinned even wider.

"Ion ray still lethal at more than one hundred feet!" Megamind shouted as he bounded into view. He was toting some kind of shoulder-cannon that looked about five-times too large for someone with his thin frame, yet he wielded it effortlessly. "Top that, Minion! And make a note!"

Roxanne cleared her throat. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with your toys in the house?" she asked as she nudged some nameless, smoking debris with her foot. "You might break something."

Megamind whipped around - a swirl of blue, black, and clear plastic shower cap. He shoved his goggles up onto his forehead. On his face was an expression of pure, manic glee.

"Roxanne!" he exclaimed. She wasn’t sure if she could attribute the delight in his voice completely to her arrival - especially after his apparent exuberance over whatever he had just been doing - but his reaction still caused a warm sensation to bloom in the pit of her stomach.

Megamind unshouldered the ion ray, propped it against the charred remains of the severed table, and hurried over to her. Roxanne took a few tentative steps into the room, checking to make sure she wasn't walking into the path of some random laser gun.

"I’m so glad you’re here!" he said. "You’re early!"

"Actually, I’m late," Roxanne replied. She reached forward and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, raising his watch to the level of his nose so he could see the time. "I stayed at work a little longer to compensate for a long lunch break." She considered telling him who she had run into at the coffee shop that afternoon, but decided, as she looked around the demolished room, that she was much more interested in his day. She could always mention it later. "Of course, if you lost track of time playing with all your stuff, then I don’t feel so bad for making you wait."

Megamind swiped his hand through the air and fluttered his lips importantly. "Pffft! My dear Roxanne, this isn’t playing!" he said, as though that should have been obvious. He gestured in a wide arc to the room behind him. In addition to the smoldering bits of destruction littering the floor, there were many more examples of weaponry and machinery - some of which Roxanne recognized from previous kidnapping incidents - lining the far walls, piled upon tables, and, of course, hanging from the ceiling. He smiled at her. "We’re cataloguing!"

"Really?" It was Roxanne’s turn to be incredulous. She raised an eyebrow and glanced around the room. "Because it looks suspiciously like you’ve been playing with your stuff."

There was an abrupt noise beside them - like the sharp clack-clack of a pump-action shotgun. Roxanne and Megamind turned to see the wide-mouthed barrel of another very large weapon pointed directly at his giant blue head.

"The new stealth modifications on the spider-bot are working well, sir!" Minion chirped happily from the driver's seat of the large mechanical arachnid.

Roxanne had to admit they were; she hadn't heard him approach at all.

"Minion," Megamind droned. He attempted to shove the weapon's muzzle away. "Can't you see we have a guest?"

"Good evening, Ms. Ritchi!" Minion said as he climbed out of the robot. The spider-bot powered down, retracted the large gun somewhere back inside the hulking framework of its chassis, and withdrew (silently) to a corner of the lair.

"Wow, it's after 7:00 already! We really must have lost track of the day," Minion exclaimed. "Guess we'll be having a late dinner, sir. I can throw something quick together if you like." As Megamind nodded his approval, Minion turned expectantly to Roxanne. "Will you be joining us, Ms. Ritchi? Or have you already eaten?"

Roxanne smiled. "Not yet," she replied. "Thanks, Minion. That would be great."

Minion beamed. Roxanne had been about to suggest take-out, simply for the speed and convenience of it, but Minion always seemed so happy when his personal efforts were appreciated. The sentient fish had always been a bit of a domestic - something Roxanne had learned long before she ever started visiting the lair willingly. Minion's culinary gestures were sometimes the one thing that made her frequent kidnappings tolerable.

"Do we want to clean all this up first, sir?" Minion asked, gesturing to the debris littering the room around them.

"Not tonight, Minion," Megamind responded. "We still have more cataloguing to do." He gestured to a row of weapons, machines, and objects-that-defied-description still stacked along the far wall. "We may as well wait until everything is finished."

"So then . . . ," Minion leaned in conspiratorially. He held his hand up to his tank as though shielding a secret. "Code: Operation Playtime continues tomorrow?"

"Yes, yes," Megamind replied with a wave of his hand. He reached up to remove both his goggles and his shower cap. "Code: We'll continue tomorrow."

When he turned back to her, Roxanne was smirking. One eyebrow arched upward. "You know, for a super-genius your codes are surprisingly easy to crack," she said.

Megamind chuckled anxiously. Then he simply shrugged. "I just had no idea archiving would be this much fun!" he said.

Roxanne’s smile softened. She strolled deeper into the room. “Well, now I see what had the brainbots so spooked,” she observed.

“Oh, they’ll be fine!” Megamind said dismissively. “They usually fend for themselves when we're testing. Besides, this is important. After that disastrous jer-age sale a while back, it became clear that there was a definite need to catalogue my Weapons of Justice.”

Roxanne smirked again. “Ah yes, the infamous yard sale. I did tell you to wait for me before doing that, didn’t I?” she said. “Nobody ever said you needed to clean out the entire lair.”

“I know,” he said with a small sigh. “It had seemed like a good idea at the time. But I suppose the experience helped me to realize that to do a hero’s work, I need to do it my way.” He crossed his arms and took in the sight of all the paraphernalia stocked in the room. “And once Minion and I got all my evil stuff back, I figured creating a formal catalogue of everything would be an even better idea.”

He turned to see Roxanne smiling softly at him.

“What?” He fidgeted a little self-consciously.

"Nothing," she said with a shrug. "It's just . . . your 'evil stuff' . . . Is it wrong for me to think it's cute that you still call them that?"

Megamind's features melted into a rather goofy smile. “Is it wrong for me to call them that because you think it's cute?” he replied.

Roxanne smiled. “Touché,” she muttered.

She couldn’t resist. She finally stepped toward him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and gave him a lingering kiss hello. When she stepped away, Roxanne’s cheeks were warm and Megamind looked a little punch-drunk. She had to admit, it was adorable. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So . . . cataloguing, huh?”

“Er, yes!” Megamind shook himself out of his daze. "If I'm going to continue to defend Metrocity, I need to be aware of all my equipment and their capabilities at all times." He picked up a medium-sized ray gun from a nearby table.

"I suppose, with all those inventions and dastardly plans over the years, it's easy to lose track of things," Roxanne agreed.

"Not only that," Megamind said. "As a villain, it was much easier to let inspiration take me where it liked. I could be as creative as I wanted because I was the one who acted; I set the stage. The hero simply reacted. Now that I'm the hero . . ." He lifted the ray gun to his shoulder, squinted to look through the scope, then lowered it again. ". . . I need to know what's at my disposal so I can react with the most appropriate tool for the occasion. So Minion and I are making a database."

"Any more huge robots of yourself?" Roxanne prodded.

"I don't think so," Megamind answered. Then he shrugged thoughtfully and placed the gun back on the table. "But we haven't gone through everything yet. There could be anything in here."

"Then a database is probably a good idea," Roxanne said. "Plus it gives you a good excuse to-"

"-Play with all my stuff, yes," Megamind finished for her with a conceding roll of his eyes and a devilish smile.

Roxanne interlaced her fingers behind her back and surveyed the arsenal in the room. She strolled along the display of bizarre weaponry, robotics and assorted gadgets. "I might be able to help, you know," she said. "I've probably seen most of these in action, haven't I?"

"A lot of it," Megamind agreed. "But not all of it. I didn't necessarily use everything I came up with over the years."

"Well, if you only used your most successful stuff back in the old days, I'd hate to see the flops!" Roxanne said.

"You cut me to the quick, Ms. Ritchi!" he replied, feigning hurt. But he laughed good-naturedly and flashed her a genuine smile.

Roxanne was glad she could tease him about his past. Many guys she knew would have been more than a little sensitive regarding their shortcomings, but Megamind actually did treat his as learning experiences. Oh, he was still as proud and narcissistic as the day was long, but he seemed to find a strange sort of excitement in failure. Not, as Roxanne had previously thought, for masoch*stic reasons (It hadn't been the "butt-kicking" that he missed.), but because it created an even bigger challenge for him to overcome. And facing a challenge unflinchingly was definitely one of the most appealing parts of his nature.

Megamind placed his hands on his hips and surveyed the room. "But you never know," he mused. "Any bit of it could come in handy now. That's why we're archiving everything. I may not be the one making all the evil plans anymore, but I need to be ready for anything that may come up." He looked at her with sincere enthusiasm in his face. "There's something incredibly exciting about that too!"

Roxanne looked back at him. Earlier, when she had told Wayne that Megamind had taken up the good fight like he was made for it, she hadn't been exaggerating. His sincere exhilaration for facing the unknown was infectious. It was such a shame that Wayne hadn't been able to look at it from the same perspective - to see past the drudgery of the "same silly charade" and see the unique thrill of each individual challenge. If he had, Metro Man might never have felt so compelled to take such drastic steps to force his own retirement. Although she was glad things had worked out the way they did, she still felt sorry for him.

"So what haven't I seen?" Roxanne asked, strolling toward the nearest table. She ran her fingertips over some of the items there and stopped on one at random. She turned her head to look back at Megamind. "May I?" she asked.

"Of course!" He strode over to her as she picked up the weapon and raised it to eye level.

It wasn't the biggest by far, and it turned out to be fairly light. It had an odd shape too. Whereas she recalled the difuser gun looking like an oversized syringe, this one looked a little like a large letter “J.” There was a hollow cylinder poking out of the top, surrounded by Megamind's trademark spikes. Roxanne could only assume that was the weapon's "business end," so she held it away from her. There was also a handle - like from a bicycle - protruding from that end at a 90-degree angle. Roxanne saw two buttons on it she guessed were the triggers. All along the inside of the lower swoop of the J there was a layer of cushioning. She didn't see a scope for targeting at all.

She turned it over in her hands a few times before finally asking, "How do I . . . ?"

"Here," Megamind offered. He walked behind her and guided the rounded end away from where Roxanne was attempting to fit it against her shoulder. He curled it across her upper back instead.

"Oh," Roxanne said. That explained the padding on the inside of the loop, which now fit snugly against her back just below her shoulder blades. The long stem of the J ran beneath the entire length of her right arm and the handle, which was now at the top, fit into her grip like a joystick.

"I've never held a gun like this before," she observed. "It's a little weird."

Megamind chuckled. "That's because it's not really a gun," he said.

When she started to lower the weapon and ask him to clarify, he immediately jumped. He put his hands on her firmly to guide her aim back up. "No, no," he said steadily. "You'll want to keep that pointed up. Down might hurt."

His reaction caused a nervous sensation to spread through Roxanne's stomach. Yet, at the same time, it was a little exciting. It was easy to forget that Megamind had a lot of dangerous stuff in here. Just because his contraptions often used to fail in comical ways didn't mean it was wise to be cavalier while handling them. But she also knew Megamind would never willingly allow her to be hurt by one of them. And she trusted him.

It still amazed her that she could feel that way about him, but she did.

"Okay, so what do I do?" she asked.

"Use the largest spike to aim," he said. "Line it up with one of the rafters, perhaps. Something sturdy."

"Okay." Roxanne squeezed one eye tightly shut and breathed out slowly so she could line up the shot, nice and steady. "Got it."

Megamind kept one hand on her shoulder and the other below her right arm, guiding her aim gently. She could feel his breath beside her ear. "Your finger is the trigger," he said. "Your thumb is the release."

"Release?" she asked just as she reflexively squeezed her finger against the trigger.

Roxanne had expected to feel a backward jolt as it fired. Normally weapons have a kick and she had braced herself for it. She hadn't expected to find herself hurtling forward instead, as though Metro Man had flown in and suddenly swept her up from behind. She cried out in shock (and a little fear) as the ceiling rapidly got closer and the floor was abruptly gone.

It was over in an instant - before her brain even had time to process anything beyond the sweeping, dizzying sensation of flight. When her mind caught up to her body, she was finally able to register the fact that she was now an arm's length from one of the rafters of the cathedral-high ceiling, her legs kicking ineffectually at nothing beneath them. Her second thought was to be very grateful she had decided against wearing a skirt that day.

"Ah! You didn't say it was a grappling hook!" she shouted down to Megamind.

"I call it my Gravi-Negator," he shouted back (pronouncing it gra-VEE-negator). "Isn't it fantastic?" Roxanne could hear the excited mirth in his voice, even from this height. "It’s self-adjusting, so it's also able to lift tremendous weights. Which is why it’s not a wise idea to aim it downward - you don’t want to be dragged to the ground by that much power. How's the support?" he asked. "It's not uncomfortable, is it?"

"Actually, no," she called down, and she was surprised that it was more-or-less true. Her shoulders and upper back were cradled firmly in the arc of the device, and her hand on the joystick provided a little more leverage. It wasn't something she'd feel comfortable doing all day, but it wasn't bad. She glanced over her shoulder at Megamind. At least the view was nice.

"How do I get down?"

"Your thumb is the release," he answered. "Just make sure you-"

Roxanne pressed her thumb against the button and immediately began to fall. Very, very rapidly. She screamed.

"Pump it! Pump it!" Megamind was shouting frantically from the floor below. He began to run to intercept her.

Roxanne released her thumb and abruptly jolted to a halt. Megamind had reached her and was now standing just a few feet below, breathing a sigh of relief. For a second, Roxanne felt like kicking him in his stupid blue head for letting her do this.

Instead, she tentatively pumped her thumb a few more times and completed her decent in gradual, jerky motions.

Megamind reached for her as she made it to the ground. "Fun, huh?" he asked as he steadied her and helped uncoil the grappling hook from around her back. He let it dangle from the ceiling briefly and gently gripped her arms to look her over. "Are you okay?" he asked with a soft smile. His face was sincere, but there was still a hint of laughter in his green eyes.

She scowled at him. "You're just evil," she grumbled breathlessly. Her body felt like jelly from the adrenaline, but she had to admit: it had been a little fun. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders for a moment and sagged against him - happy to be back on the ground.

When he was sure she was steady, Megamind released her. He picked the device up again and twisted something along its barrel. The hook released its grip on the rafter above. The length of metal cord retracted back inside with a snap.

"The hydraulics sounded like they could use a little work," he said, scrutinizing the mechanism. "I suppose the name could too, come to think of it."

"I've never seen you use it before," Roxanne said.

"I'd originally designed it to make dramatic escapes," he answered, briefly puffing out his chest. "But as you can imagine, its size is rather cumbersome and it was too inconvenient to always keep on-hand. I've never been able to design a more compact version, so Minion and I mainly use it to clean the cobwebs off the ceiling."

Roxanne giggled - especially at the thought of Minion dramatically hurtling toward the ceiling to attack some villainous dirt with a feather duster. She turned her attention back toward the other weapons. "What about that one?" she asked. "What does that do?"

Her eyes had settled on something decidedly more gun-shaped. Like most of Megamind's things, it was dark in color, and ornamented with numerous spikes. The main body of the weapon looked like a slender rifle, but what caught Roxanne's eye was a long cylindrical chamber connected just below the barrel. It looked as though it contained a white gaseous substance that swirled around like vapor inside it. It was, for lack of a better word, pretty.

"That one?" Megamind repeated. He walked over to join her as she looked at it. "That's my paradox gun."

Roxanne co*cked her eyebrow at him. "Let me guess," she said. "Its evil power was to puzzle your victims with unsolvable contradictions. You fiend!"

Megamind laughed. "Allow me to demonstrate," he said with a flourish. He moved to the wall, pulled something out from beneath one of the tables, and placed it in the center of the floor. He then walked back to join Roxanne.

"You're going to shoot a teddy bear?" she asked. The stuffed animal seemed to stare forlornly back at her with its black button-eyes.

"Yes. Sadly, we've had to shoot quite a few things for the sake of our database," Megamind said, gesturing to the charred debris all over the room. "It's for science, Roxanne. And justice."

"But that's a teddy bear," Roxanne pointed out again.

"It's all right," Megamind assured her. "That's a terror teddy. We can shoot it. It's evil." He picked up the paradox gun. "Now," he said as he raised it to his shoulder, "you've heard the saying, 'when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object'?"

Roxanne nodded, and Megamind fired.

A beam of the white swirly vapor struck the stuffed animal and immediately began to expand. It swiftly crawled across the surface of the bear until every inch was surrounded by a translucent, milky film. It conformed completely to the animal's shape.

Roxanne had been bracing herself for an explosion that never came. When it became apparent that wasn't going to happen, she relaxed and looked at the plush toy. Its image appeared a little distorted, as though she was viewing it through a thin layer of cloudy water, but it looked otherwise unharmed.

"Would that suffocate a person?" she asked.

"Oh no," Megamind replied. "The substance is actually quite breathable from what I can discern. Its development was something of an accident at first, but we quickly discovered it had rather unique properties." He put down the gun and picked up a small remote control. "That's where the paradox comes in."

He pressed a button on the remote and numerous vicious-looking spikes shot from the teddy bear's body. However, they didn't pierce the encasing layer around it; the whitish substance merely molded perfectly to each pointy barb.

"Unstoppable force . . ." Megamind pointed to the bear. ". . . immovable object," he finished as he indicated the weapon. "Once in place, the material can't be pierced or torn. Whatever is inside still has motion, but it's extremely limited. Furthermore, the substance constantly re-shapes itself. And one can't simply break through something that conforms to every movement. I call it . . ." He waggled his eyebrows at her for dramatic effect. ". . . boa plasma! You know," he clarified, "because it's so constricting."

Roxanne smiled. "Yes, I get it."

"Minion just calls it 'That Gooey Gun,'" he added, with air-quotes and a grumble.

Roxanne laughed.

Megamind continued the demonstration by retracting and reactivating the bear's spikes several more times. Each time the milky-white material moved to accommodate them. He even placed his hand against one to show Roxanne how the boa plasma kept the spike from piercing his skin.

"Oh," Roxanne said. "You can touch it? It won't - start climbing up your arm or suck you in, or anything?"

"No, not once it's set," Megamind answered with a chuckle. He picked the teddy bear up and held it out to her. Roxanne tentatively placed her fingertips against the surface.

"It feels wet," she said, wrinkling her nose a little at the odd sensation. "And cold."

"I think the moisture is what keeps it so pliable," he answered.

Roxanne pulled her fingers away and shook them. "That feels so weird," she said. "It's like jelly."

"Extremely tough jelly," Megamind said. "Minion and I have tested it extensively. Against nearly everything I could think of. It's rather fascinating: The more force applied against it from the inside, the more it simply reshapes itself to adjust. However, external forces can act upon it without too much trouble." He gave the bear a good shake to illustrate his point, then put it down.

"In fact," he added hesitantly after a beat, "I can only think of one unstoppable force I've never tested it on."

Roxanne looked at him meaningfully. "You've never used it against Metro Man," she said. It wasn't a guess; she knew.

“No,” he replied. “I never did.”

He didn't attempt to cover or make excuses for never having done it. He didn't claim lack of opportunity or time. If he had been speaking to anyone other than Roxanne he probably would have. He'd have thrown his bravado around him like a cloak and monologued about how his old nemesis had been extremely fortunate that the great Megamind chose to spare him the unbridled evil and degradation of the "Gooey Gun."

But, by now, Roxanne knew him better than that. And she knew he knew it too.

His reasons went unspoken, but she knew them all the same: What if it had worked?

A year ago, she wouldn't have been nearly as understanding. A year ago, Roxanne probably would have snarked at him for it. After all, what kind of super villain would opt not to use a weapon that actually stood a chance of working? Now, however, she knew better. It had never really been about winning for Megamind; it had been more about the game itself - and that challenge, however elusive, of someday being able to one-up his rival.

Sure, Megamind had been beyond exuberant the day it looked as though he finally had defeated Metro Man. (Why wouldn't he be? He had never really expected to win.) But Roxanne was now very much aware of just how quickly that victory turned sour.

"Then again," he finally said as he scrutinized the bear, "I've never actually tested it on anything living."

"Then how do you know a person would still be able to breathe in there?" she asked him.

"We've used sensors," Megamind answered with a shrug. "From what I could ascertain, the environment inside is thicker than air, but still breathable."

"Will you be switching to live subjects now to get info for your database?" she asked. The idea of being covered head-to-toe with that cold jelly-stuff wasn't an appealing one, but she'd do it for him if he asked.

Megamind looked at her. "Oh no," he said. He suddenly seemed strangely serious. "No, we couldn't do that. The boa plasma is very difficult to get rid of, and . . . well . . ." He unholstered his dehydration gun. "The only methods we've found that work are . . . messy."

Megamind set the gun to 'destroy' and handed Roxanne a pair of his work goggles. She raised them to her eyes as he fired.

The beam hit the bear in the chest and there was a very loud cracking sound. In an instant there were countless hairline fractures spider-webbing out from the point of impact. They glowed a bright blue color and continued to spread until the entire surface of the boa plasma was covered. A second later the whole thing exploded. Bits of fluff, chunks of what used to be spikes, and one sad black button-eye (which landed by Roxanne's shoe) joined the debris on the floor.

There were no remnants of the boa plasma left at all, however. It looked as though the beam of the dehydration gun had obliterated it completely.

"Whoo!" Roxanne exclaimed, lowering the goggles. She instinctively shook out her hair, in case any bits of teddy had landed in it. "You killed it!" she added with mock despair.

Megamind laughed. "See? Getting rid of it can be messy," he said, dropping the gun back into his holster. "And dangerous."

"You can't just dehydrate it?" she asked.

"Unfortunately, no," he replied. "Another paradox, perhaps. Whatever is inside would simply dehydrate too, and re-hydration would only serve to reestablish the plasma. You must destroy it at a molecular level, or completely dry out the hydraulic base of the gel. In either case, a living thing inside would not fare well. It didn't take long to be certain I would never actually use the gun, and I had considered destroying it, but-" He shrugged, a little guiltily. "-I couldn't bring myself to do it. It is a rather fascinating substance."

Roxanne nodded. The obliterated bits of teddy bear all over the floor sort of answered the lingering question of why Megamind opted not to use the gun against Titan either. Especially if it stood a chance of actually working. "Destroyed at a molecular level" sounded pretty definitive. Just because Hal had morphed into the scariest person she had ever encountered, it didn't mean Roxanne would have wanted to see him reduced to spandex-clad pieces all over the street.

"Okay," she said with a smile. "No 'Gooey Gun,' then. But if there's anything else I can do." She moved closer to him with a flirtatious look in her eyes and took him by the hand. "I'm sure there are other things I can help you with. In the interest of justice, of course."

Megamind raised an eyebrow slyly and took her other hand. They faced each other with their fingers interlaced between them. "You would . . ." he said slowly, deliberately, ". . . surrender yourself to my clutches, Ms. Ritchi?"

"Surrender?" Roxanne asked, her expression taking on a hint of challenge. "Never."

Megamind's fingers gave a light tug and Roxanne stepped forward to close the distance between them. He rested his forehead gently against hers. "Temptress," he whispered.

"Ahem."

The two turned their faces to the doorway, where Minion had reappeared.

"Sorry, sir," he said apologetically. "Sorry, Ms. Ritchi."

"Dinnertime?" Megamind asked.

"Not quite yet," Minion responded. "But we do have a bit of a . . . situation, sir." Minion heaved his massive robotic shoulders in a full-body sigh. "He's back again."

"He?" Megamind repeated. Then Roxanne watched his features change as realization seemed to dawn. "Oh," he drawled, a subtle shadow of apprehension crossing his face.

He followed Minion toward the monitors in the main room, keeping hold of one of Roxanne's hands as they went.

"He?" she parroted as she walked behind him.

"Our biggest fan," Minion informed her. Roxanne noted the unveiled sarcasm in the fish's voice. It surprised her, because he was normally so tolerant and friendly with everyone.

"Now, Minion, we've discussed this," Megamind said gently as they approached the monitors. "As defenders of Metrocity, we must display a charitable and non-villainous attitude when dealing with all its fair citizens. Not only because it is now our solemn duty to protect them, but because we do not wish any of them to turn evil."

Roxanne stifled a snort, and tugged on his arm to get him to face her. "You had me up to 'solemn duty to protect them'," she said. "Then your thought process took a turn for the wacky."

"Oh yes," Megamind nodded, completely serious. "Minion and I have been doing extensive research on heroism now that we're the good guys. One animated motion picture clearly demonstrates what could happen if a hero rejects the attention and adoration of young fans. They can go to great lengths to deceive and destroy the hero later in life! We would like to avoid such outcomes."

Roxanne looked from Megamind's earnest face to Minion and back again. "You are both so adorable," she said. "So who is this guy?" she asked as they reached the monitors.

There was a young man standing beneath the watchful eye of a security camera above the door which had recently been dubbed the Evil Lair's "public entrance." (Megamind still liked to keep the secret entrance a secret, even though the lair itself wasn't anymore.) The young man looked sandy-haired, of medium-height and a bit lanky from what Roxanne could tell through the black and white feed of the monitors. He looked to be somewhere in his mid-twenties. A graphic t-shirt peeked through the open flannel button-down he was wearing. Under his arm he clutched a rolled duffle.

The three watched as the young man pressed his thumb to the button Megamind had installed as a kind of doorbell for the public entrance, causing a scratchy-sounding buzzer to echo from deep within the lair. He bobbed up and down on his feet, periodically glancing and waving into the camera lens. He grinned and mouthed something inaudible.

"His name is Evan," Megamind said.

"Owen, sir."

"I meant Owen."

"Owen Lowry," Minion explained. "He came to the lair for the yard sale. And . . . it pretty much feels like he never left," he added with a small roll of his eyes.

"He bought the 'Evil Overlord' desk placard," Megamind said. "And when we went around collecting all my stuff back, he was one of the few who didn't give us a lot of trouble about it. He seemed genuinely interested in my inventions and, I admit, it was flattering." Megamind chuckled awkwardly with a side-glance to Minion. "I didn't see the harm in telling him to stop by. So . . . he does."

"All . . . the . . . time," Minion drawled.

Megamind rounded on him in frustration. "Well, isn't that what you're supposed to say when you really don't want someone to come over?" he said through gritted teeth. "How was I to know the young man wouldn't be well-versed in the double-meanings of human niceties?"

Roxanne looked at both of them with soft eyes and a sympathetic smile. She covered her heart with her hands. "Aw," she said, with the tiniest hint of snark in her voice. "You two have your own Hal."

Megamind's eyes widened in alarm as he turned to face her. "Oh, god. You think so?"

Roxanne chuckled. "I'm kidding," she assured him. "I'm sure your fanboy is perfectly normal. But you don't show him everything, do you? I know how you get when someone's buttering you up."

"No, of course not," Megamind replied. "Usually he brings some of his own - rather elementary - inventions and blueprints along and asks for feedback. He just-" Megamind paused thoughtfully. "He tends to stay a long time."

"Absolutely does not know when to leave," Minion grumbled bluntly.

"It's difficult to come up with delicate ways to get rid of him," Megamind said. "Sometimes we just pretend not to be home."

"The Defender of Metro City, hiding from a fan," Roxanne mused.

"Not hiding!" Megamind exclaimed, affronted. "Roxanne, you of all people know I don't run from anything! I'm just . . . preserving my sanity."

"I understand," Roxanne said empathetically, looping both her arms around one of his and fitting herself close to his side. "Believe me, I've been there. You probably won't be able to play the 'nobody's home' card with my van sitting outside, but you can use the fact that I'm here as an excuse to cut the visit short this time." She shrugged. "After all, if you can't throw me under the bus, what am I good for?"

Megamind pulled away from her, horrified. "Roxanne! Even at my most evil I would never have done anything so heinous!"

Roxanne stared back at him in shock for a moment, then doubled over in giggles. "No! Megamind, it's just an expression. It means you can put the blame on me - tell him I need you for something. Put the focus on me, instead of on you. That way you're not the one disappointing him."

"Oh," he said. Roxanne reattached herself to his arm and entwined the fingers of one of her hands with his. "Huh. What a curious expression to use for such a thing." He shrugged. "Whenever my prison uncles said anything like that, it was usually because they meant it."

Roxanne simply laughed at that.

"Do I let him in, sir?" Minion asked grudgingly, his finger hesitating over the button to unlock the door.

"Yes, Minion, let him in," Megamind conceded. "We will visit for a brief time, then I shall run Roxanne over with a bus."

Roxanne smiled warmly. "Close enough," she said. "I'll make myself scarce for a little while. I have some stuff I should probably get done, anyway. I don't have to work the 11:00 news tonight, but I do have some copy my producer wants submitted. Would you mind if I used my laptop?"

"Of course not," Megamind answered. "Be my guest. We have the WI-FI."

(He pronounced it "wee-fee," which made Roxanne smile even more.)

"Okay," she said. Drawing him down, she placed a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek. "Play nice, you two. I'll be back to rescue you soon."

Megamind smiled down at her. "My heroine."

Roxanne squeezed his hand and pulled away from him, then retreated to find a quiet, brainbot-free room in which to work.

A heavy metal door swung open on a second-level catwalk. Megamind hadn’t wanted public access to the lair to be too easy, so he and Minion had decided to use one of the fire escapes upstairs for that purpose. It locked securely, and reaching it from the outside was just inconvenient enough to deter most people from coming around at random. (They’d gotten a few complaints about it at the yard sale which, in the big picture, had probably been a good thing.) It didn’t, however, keep everyone away.

The sandy-haired young man appeared in the doorway and raised his arm in an eager greeting. “Mr. Mind!” he exclaimed. “Hey, Mr. Mind!”

Megamind, who had just finished drawing the large curtain across the idea wall, greeted him in reply - a bit overdramatically, like he was making a public decree. “Good evening, Evan!”

“Owen, sir,” Minion interjected under his breath.

“Owen!" Megamind quickly amended. "Yes, Owen! Such a pleasant surprise to see you on this fine evening, upon which I unfortunately must inform you that I have important plans with Ms. Roxanne Ritchi in the very near future so we are unable to visit for very long." He punctuated all that with an exaggerated, toothy grin.

Minion nudged him discreetly. "A-plus for subtlety, sir."

"Oh," Owen said as he clomped down the metal staircase leading from the catwalk. "Well, that's cool, Mr. Mind. I just wanted to show you something new I came up with." He placed his duffle on a table and looked in Minion's direction as he unzipped it. "Hiya, Minion!" he said. "Jeez! How are you?"

Minion grinned and offered Owen a little chin-tilt/finger twiddle combo in greeting. Then he turned toward the monitors, tapping one display with a pencil and giving off a perfect Do Not Disturb While I'm Concentrating on Very Important Work vibe.

Megamind grumbled inwardly. He got the distinct impression that he now understood Roxanne's expression "thrown under a bus". Traitor, he thought as he glared at his henchman. He plastered on a smile and turned back toward the young man who had begun rooting through his bag.

“I just had a few questions about something I was inspired to design last night,” Owen said. “I’m really glad you have a few minutes to take a look at it.”

Megamind’s plastic grin widened. “Oh, me, too!” He made a sideways fist-pump across his chest in an attempt to emphasize his excitement.

Owen placed a few random things on the table as he pawed through his duffle, including a calculator, a full-to-bursting notebook, a cell phone, and finally, a rolled sheet of what looked like blueprint paper. He flattened it out onto the table and stepped back. His teeth pressed excitedly into his bottom lip as he looked from the paper to Megamind, waiting for a response.

Megamind peered down onto the blueprint page. He cradled his chin between two fingers and hmm-ed as he walked around it to look at it from various angles. "Well, that's very interesting, Owen," he said, crossing his arms. "The design is a bit rudimentary, but it looks like you've got a solid foundation here."

"I knew it!" the young man exclaimed excitedly. "I knew you, of all people, would be able to appreciate it! Anybody else probably wouldn't even know what it is, but you!" He clasped his hands before him in gratitude. "I knew you'd get it right away!"

"Weeell," Megamind shrugged his shoulders and opened his arms in a large, impressive gesture. "Not everyone else has my keen eye or technological know-how. But you know what, Owen? I'm sure, with a design like this, it will be just as obvious to others as well. Even those without my considerable cranium." He turned to his sidekick with a bordering-on-evil smirk. "Minion?" he said. "Care to tell us what you think, too?"

Your turn under the bus, my fishy friend!

Minion turned around in his tank atop the robot gorilla suit. (Though the suit itself did not move from its position at the monitor controls.) The fish gave his own little smirk back. "I'd love to, sir," he said apologetically. "But I really need to finish all this database work you gave me before we start our nightly patrol. Maybe later?" He batted his brown eyes innocently.

Megamind flashed Minion a glare that promised swift and exact vengeance. He made a quick slashing motion across his throat, which the fish clearly chose to ignore as he turned back around in his bowl. When Megamind spun back to Owen, he had reapplied a dramatic, plastic grin.

"Oh, well," he said in mock disappointment. "We'll have to show him next time. By then, you'll have had more time to work on it. And I know for a fact Minion won't be nearly as busy in the future." He ground the last few words through the gritted teeth of his forced smile as he sent another clandestine glare in the fish's direction.

"Okay," Owen said eagerly. "In that case, there were just a few things I wanted to run by you, Mr. Mind. Just a few quick questions about getting it to work properly." He pulled a small piece of paper from the breast pocket of his flannel shirt and began to unfold it.

And unfold it.

And unfold it.

And unfold it.

Megamind's heart sank with every opened crease of the page. A few quick questions? How big was that paper, anyway? He began to have difficulty maintaining the integrity of his fake smile.

"Okay," Owen began, looking intently at the paper, which now extended to just above his waist. "I'll ask the really important ones first so we have time to talk about them."

"Actually, he doesn't have time," came a voice from the back of the lair.

Megamind raised his eyes to the ceiling in relief. He felt his nerves physically unclench. Roxanne had returned.

She approached with a smile that was friendly and completely free of pretense. Megamind couldn't help but marvel at her ability to look so genuinely sincere. Doubtless, it was one of her many reporter skills.

"You must be Owen," she said, extending her hand.

The young man gaped at her. "Golly!" he said. "Hi, Ms. Ritchi!" He belatedly offered his own hand, which she firmly shook. "It sure is swell to meet you!"

Roxanne stepped back beside Megamind and looped her arm through his. "Unfortunately, Owen, I'm going to have to pull him away from you tonight," she said. "He promised me some time before he heads out to do his hero work. You understand, don't you?" She continued to smile sweetly.

"Oh! Oh, yeah, of course!" Owen exclaimed as he began gathering up his things and shoving them back into the duffle. "Maybe we can talk another time?" he added hopefully to Megamind.

"One can only hope," Megamind replied. He displayed two sets of crisscrossed fingers for Owen to see.

The young man backed toward the metal stairway, flashing a thumbs-up. Minion finally stepped away from the monitor and also gave a little wave. He had the button pushed to unlock the security door on the catwalk before Owen's foot even hit the first step.

"See you later, Mr. Mind! Minion!" Owen said as he reached the door. "See you next time! Nice to meet you, Ms. Ritchi!" And he left.

Megamind groaned loudly and pulled his hands down the length of his face. "We may have to move," he said.

"Actually, I think that was a record," Minion added.

"Did he really use the words 'golly' and 'swell' in an actual sentence?" Roxanne observed.

"Some help you were!" Megamind rounded on Minion. "Talk about running someone over with a bus! Next time, I call dibs on the monitors, and you get to fawn over his ridiculous blueprints!"

"Yes, sir."

"He seemed sweet," Roxanne said with a shrug. "In a vacant, Richie Cunningham sort of way."

"Can I interest anyone in dinner?" Minion asked, cheerfully changing the subject.

"Sounds good to me," Roxanne said, giving Megamind's arm a tug. "Let's go, hero. I'm starved." The three began walking toward the kitchen area of the lair.

"By the way," she asked as they went, "what was he designing on those blueprints?"

Megamind rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, god," he groaned. "I have absolutely no idea."

Marcus Brier, the sous-chef at Le Cœur Brisé, was preparing to lock up the restaurant for the night. Everyone else had gone home nearly an hour ago, but it was customary for Marcus to stay a while longer - working on scheduling duties, taking stock of the inventory, preparing orders for the next day, and finishing any other job given to him by Mr. Eltora, the executive chef.

Marcus didn't mind being the last one to leave. He actually enjoyed the quiet that descended upon the restaurant when the crowds were finally gone and the chaos of the bustling kitchen had ceased. Tonight Le Cœur Brisé had been especially busy, so Marcus relished the peaceful time he got to spend after-hours, without anything else to manage but his own work.

He turned off the computer after emailing some inventory notes to his boss. The executive chef would be in especially early tomorrow. Wednesday was fish market day, and Marcus knew Mr. Eltora would be at the wharf at dawn. The boss always insisted on hand-picking the freshest and best seafood for the next day's meals, and Marcus wanted to be sure the restaurant's inventory of ingredients was completely up-to-date. That way Mr. Eltora could easily restock any supplies needed to go with what he would buy at the market in the morning.

Marcus was good at his job. He had worked for Mr. Eltora at Le Cœur Brisé for a long time, and it was his greatest hope to one day achieve the status of executive chef as well. So he liked the after-hours work. The extra responsibility meant he was well on his way to his goal, and being completely in charge of his own kitchen had been a life-long dream.

Marcus double-checked everything one last time before shutting off the lights and locking the interior door. He descended the stairs that led to the canopied street-level entrance. Le Cœur Brisé took up the first two stories of a larger building. The main dining room was on the second floor, while the ground floor was reserved for storage and receptions. It had a larger ballroom area for catering parties and gala events. Above the restaurant, the top floors of the building consisted of office suites leased by various private businesses.

As he reached the street level, Marcus fastened the lock on that door and pulled the security gate down in front of it, locking that as well. He took a few steps down the sidewalk and glanced up one more time. A few lit windows dotted the façade of the building, where members of the cleaning staff were probably still working in the offices. They were the only ones who stayed later than Marcus.

He had started to turn away to catch the late bus home, when Marcus noticed a dull glow from the dining room level of the restaurant. He was a little taken aback. He knew he had turned all the lights out. Had he left a candle burning on one of the tables? That was unlike him. But he couldn't just leave it like that. Although he didn't enjoy the idea of having to unlock everything all over again, Marcus still dug through his pocket for his keys.

He had almost made it back to the street-level door when the restaurant exploded.

Marcus stumbled backward and landed in the street. He averted his eyes from the shower of glass as the windows rained down onto the pavement. When he could finally look up again it was to see flames licking the sides of the building and clouds of smoke billowing out of what had once been Le Cœur Brisé.

To be continued...

Chapter 3: Heroes' Work

Chapter Text

Chapter 3 - Heroes' Work

Somewhere along the line, Wayne had lost count of the number of times he had plucked the same guitar string. One of the most frustrating things about being Music Man was the fact that, unlike his other, heroic alter-ego, this one seemed to have a genuine weakness. It had taken a while to discover it, but it was there.

Writer's block.

Frustrated, Wayne finally reached forward and placed the guitar back on its stand. He continued to sit on his pristine, white couch and glare at the less-than-cooperative instrument. The guitar only stared impassively back. Wayne leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees, eyeballing the guitar with one raised brow.

"So," he murmured, "we meet again, you mad genius."

The polyurethane finish on the surface of the guitar's white body gleamed coldly beneath the light of the crystal chandelier above. It mocked him with its indifference.

"What's that?" Wayne asked curiously with a hand cupping his ear, as though the instrument had somehow responded. He sat up straighter, a hint of defiance in his expression. "You think you've won, you sinister Stratocaster? The melodic hymns of justice will never fall dissonant to your evil chords!"

The guitar remained infuriatingly silent.

Wayne flopped back onto the couch. "Or we could just call a temporary time-out," he said.

The guitar seemed fine with that.

Wayne groaned and drew his hands down the length of his face. They fell into his lap and he simply remained there, slouched on his sofa for a few minutes. Not only were the lyrics not coming as easily as they had at first, but he now seemed to be suffering from an awful case of cabin fever besides. The opulent underground bunker beneath the dilapidated exterior of the Lil' Gifted School seemed so small and confining lately.

Months ago, when Megamind and Roxanne had discovered him here, he remembered telling them that the death ray had made him feel more alive than he had in years. That was when his new calling had been at its most exciting, and the music-writing had been easiest. Perhaps the reason it had all become so difficult lately was because Wayne never really went anywhere or did anything anymore.

Sure, there was the need for anonymity now that he was effectively in hiding. And then there was the obvious shortage of personal funds (a bone of contention which still caused him to resent his own lack of pre-planning). But Wayne couldn't help but wonder if, in spite of all that, the reason he wasn't able to drum up as much enthusiasm for his musical passion lately was because he wasn't actually living the life he had claimed for himself.

He had studied famous musical artists as they spoke in interviews about how they create their songs from their own personal experiences. And Wayne had done that too, at first. But for the majority of his life, he had been Metro Man - a superhero. What he knew was superheroics. He hated to admit it, but that was pretty limiting. It was becoming increasingly draining to think up new ways to formulate songs around x-ray vision and bending steel.

The fact that his current, self-imposed banishment prevented him from actually going out and experiencing anything new didn't help - not if he wanted to maintain the secret that Metro Man was still alive. (And what good was keeping his logo if he had to hide it under a trenchcoat all the time?)

More than anything, Wayne wished he could get back to that heady rush of "being alive" he had felt so strongly in the weeks following the death ray.

Which, inevitably, brought his thoughts back to his former nemesis.

When he had run into Roxanne the other day, she had suggested Wayne get in touch with Megamind. Wayne knew she was only trying to help, problem-solver that she was. She probably thought that getting them together would be a solution to a number of issues - Wayne wouldn't be so isolated, and Megamind would have the benefit of a superhero mentor. He had promised to consider it, but the thought of actually going through with it made him uncomfortable.

Wayne didn't want to admit it, to Roxanne or to anyone, but approaching Megamind now would almost feel like an actual defeat. That idea didn't sit well with him. Sure, Wayne had allowed Megamind to think he had defeated him; he had provided the blue genius with the illusion of winning. But the last laugh there had been Wayne's. After all, he hadn't been destroyed; he had simply chosen to change his life by faking his own death. On that fateful day, as he had orchestrated the deception of Metro Man's demise, Wayne had done so with a laugh in his heart and a spring in his proverbial step.

In the months that had passed since, however, his decisions of that day had come back to bite him in a number of ways - the money issues, the block to his creative juices, the conspicuous lack of adoring smiles aimed in his direction. To openly admit that things were less than rosy in the wake of his decision, however - especially to Megamind - would be akin to losing.

And Wayne had never lost. Not to Megamind. Not to anyone. Never.

He could sit here right now, however, imagining his little buddy - someone for whom losing had become something of an art form - cackling in the face of defeat and bouncing back with even more outlandish schemes. Even after a thorough trouncing, Megamind had never cowered away from facing Metro Man over and over again. If Wayne ever had to admit to being jealous of something, that would probably be it.

And then there was the day Megamind and Roxanne had stumbled upon him here all those months ago. Megamind had, rather earnestly and defeatedly, asked for Metro Man's help dealing with Titan.

It was a request Wayne had flatly refused at the time.

Time, however, had changed a few things. Wayne didn't like the idea of being so isolated anymore. The ironic part was that Megamind and Roxanne were the only two he could go to in order to change that. (Unless, of course, he wished to reveal his ruse to the entire city, and that option wasn't even on the table. He couldn't do that. They would hate him for what he had done.)

But the idea of having to approach his former rival - the thought of being finally, truly at Megamind's mercy to either accept him or reject him - did not sit well with Wayne.

If he were a less valiant individual, he may have even admitted that it scared him.

Not knowing was easier. So Wayne Scott remained on his own.

He spun away from the offending guitar for a while and tossed his bare feet up onto the sofa. He grabbed his remote and flipped his television on. He needed something to take his mind elsewhere for a while.

As luck would have it, however, his mind wasn't allowed the luxury of a distant vacation - especially with Roxanne Ritchi's face filling his screen as she finished up a report on Channel 8.

". . . kept the blaze from spreading to neighboring buildings thanks to the quick reaction of the Metro City Fire Department and our city's own defender, Megamind.

"Investigators are still piecing together what happened here late last night at Le Cœur Brisé. The popular downtown restaurant was destroyed when a violent explosion rocked the 400-block of Cove Boulevard at approximately 1:45 am.

"The building was not empty at the time of the fire, though no serious injuries have been reported. The Crowne Plaza Building also houses several businesses and non-profits, including the Law Offices of Edgar-Price and Metro City Tomorrow. Two female members of the cleaning staff were taken to Metro City General Hospital for treatment of minor injuries and smoke inhalation. The upper floors of the Crowne Plaza Building suffered some smoke and water damage; it is likely that those offices will reopen within the next few weeks. And while the structural integrity of the building remains intact, the interior of the restaurant itself has been deemed a total loss by the fire marshal.

"Metro City Fire Chief Thomas Garvey tells KMCP 8 that the circ*mstances surrounding the incident have been regarded as suspicious, and the prospect of arson is not being ruled out, although there is no speculation yet as to a possible motive. The investigation continues at this hour, and we'll bring you more on this story as it develops. This is Roxanne Ritchi, reporting live from downtown Metro City. Back to you, Curtis . . ."

Wayne smiled and turned off the television, tossing the remote onto the foot of the couch. It was always nice to hear his little buddy getting positive press. It was like Roxanne said: he was a brave guy, and heroic work certainly seemed to suit him. There may not always be a super villain to fight, but it was during those smaller-scale crises and personal tragedies that the people of Metro City needed to know they had someone to turn to. Megamind had more than risen to the task.

The little swell of pride Wayne felt suddenly made him reconsider contacting him. He glanced across the room at his mother-of-pearl and gold-plated phone. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing . . .

Neither one of them had ever really contacted the other before - not in the traditional sense, anyway. In their previous dealings, Megamind had typically used the largest platforms he could find to get Metro Man's attention, whether it be his face plastered on enormous video screens, his voice booming over the airwaves, or from the driver's seat of his latest doomsday machine.

As for the other way around - well, Wayne had simply never done that. Why would he? Even if he had wanted to, it's not like Megamind was exactly hard to find. He'd had a semi-permanent residence at the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted for years. And following any one of Megamind's routine escapes, it was only a matter of time before he was making his presence in Metro City known.

Even now, Wayne was sure contacting his former rival couldn't be that difficult. He knew where the lair was - nearly everyone did these days. By now Roxanne must have mentioned to Megamind that she had run into Wayne downtown the other day, and hearing Megamind mentioned on the news just now did give Wayne a perfect excuse to initiate contact.

Wayne frowned.

He just couldn't bring himself to do it. He turned away from the phone and back toward the blank television screen.

Roxanne, though. He could to talk to her. She had been surprisingly non-judgmental the other day. He hadn't expected that - not after the way she had reacted upon learning his secret several months ago. And Wayne was comfortable around her; he always had been. She was in the unique position of being privy to the ins-and-outs of the Metro Man/Megamind rivalry, without being as intimately entrenched in their lifelong history.

Besides, she had been the one to suggest that they meet again for coffee.

Wayne glanced at the grandfather clock across the room. Unless she had more live reports to shoot this afternoon, he might be able to catch her at the Café Beanery before her break was over.

Enlivened by the prospect of getting out of the bunker for a few hours, Wayne swung his legs back over the edge of the couch and rose to change into something a little more appropriate for the public than his robe. He glanced at the gleaming white guitar on its stand as he swept past it.

"'Til we meet again," he vowed with a raised eyebrow. Then he hurried to get dressed.

". . . I felt the explosion, but I didn't know what it was at first. Then the fourth floor hallway started filling up with smoke . . ."

Megamind sat in his high-backed chair in front of the monitors, re-watching the recording he had made of Roxanne's broadcast about last night's fire. A brainbot sat nestled in his lap and Megamind idly drew his fingertips back and forth across the domed plasma globe of its body. The electric currents chased his fingers from the inside of the glass. He scrutinized the video thoughtfully.

"I couldn't have missed it. It has to be here," he mused at the screen. "I swear I'm so close."

After a minute or two, the broadcast cut from Roxanne again to another taped interview with one of the victims rescued from the upper floors of the Crowne Plaza Building.

"There!" Megamind cried. Recognition sparked in his eyes. He grabbed a remote and increased the volume, leaning intently toward the video feed.

". . . I couldn't believe it," the woman on the screen said breathlessly. "It just burst through the window and carried me right out. I swear I used to think those brainbot things were so creepy, but it actually saved my life!"

"Aha!" Megamind exclaimed gleefully. He paused the video and turned his attention to the brainbot in his lap. It looked up at him. The bulb at the end of its eyestalk blinked curiously.

"There! You see?" he said. "We're no longer creepy!" He affectionately noogied the top of the brainbot's dome. "What did Daddy tell you?" he murmured in a playful baby-babble. "The citizens of Metrocity like you! They really like you!"

The brainbot bowged in what could only be described as a pleased response and Megamind released it into the air.

He rolled his chair away from the monitors, punching another button on the remote as he went. The taped broadcast stopped and the screens switched to the live feed from the cameras outside the lair. Megamind positioned his chair beside a nearby table and stared down at the few items scattered upon its surface.

Being both the Defender of Metro City and in a relationship with its most popular reporter gave him unique insight into the entirety of a story. It hadn't occurred to him before to think about the careful edits Roxanne made when presenting information on-air. Whenever she used to leave details out about him in her news reports - his most terrifying schemes, his brilliant devices, his smoldering good looks - Megamind used to think it was simply to spite him. This, of course, only created fuel for subsequent kidnappings. But now he understood that Roxanne was in a tricky position. As a reporter, it was her duty to provide the important facts to the public, but it was also prudent to omit any details that might cause unnecessary panic.

While public panic would have suited Megamind just fine during his days of wreaking havoc on the city, now that he was defending it he was beginning to understand the need for at least a little discretion.

Such power and responsibility Roxanne wielded in her lovely hands. In another life, she might have made a stunning overlord.

This time, the details weren't quite horrific, but they could certainly cause a stir. Roxanne's report had mentioned the likelihood of arson at the restaurant's explosion last night, but from where Megamind was sitting it was more definitive. There wasn't much left, but the fire department had managed to retrieve a few items from the remains of Le Cœur Brisé that did more than simply hint at the possibility of foul play.

Several objects - including a few bits of aluminum wire, some small scraps of steel, and what looked like the melted casing of a c-cell battery - lay on the surface of the table. They were all fairly innocuous by themselves, but it wasn't unheard of to find such things used in crude explosive devices. The thing that made the combination of these items all the more suspicious was the inclusion of a charred casing from the front of a cellular telephone.

The man who called to report the fire was a restaurant chef who had just locked the building up for the night. When the police interviewed him, he told them that, just before the explosion, he had seen a dim light in one of the windows. At first, he'd thought it could be a candle, but claimed to have been certain all lights in the restaurant were off when he left. It was certainly possible that the light could have instead come from the LCD screen of this phone - such things were often used as triggers for homemade explosives. That way the person who set it could call to activate it from a distance.

All of that was very circ*mstantial, of course. There was no direct proof connecting the several (mostly destroyed) objects on the table to any kind of foul play. Normally the police or fire department would be the ones to confiscate such things as evidence. There had been many fires since Megamind had become Metro City's hero - several of which had also been the result of arson - and although he had also provided help with those in the past, he had never personally investigated any of them before. He probably wouldn't have been investigating this one, either, if it hadn't been for the last item on the table.

It was the main reason Roxanne hadn't divulged all the details of the explosion to the general populous.

Megamind picked up the small piece of paper. It was about the size and shape of a playing card. One side was blank, but on the other was an image of an insect - a scarab-like beetle - with a small flame depicted on its shell. It was dirty and bent from being trampled underfoot at the scene, but it was otherwise undamaged. The image on it didn't provide anything solid, but it was certainly a coincidence to find it at the location of such a violent fire. The fact that it was not singed or charred at all was also a little suspicious - like whoever had left it there had done so after the explosion had occurred.

It wasn't much to go on - not yet - but Megamind assumed that Roxanne didn't want to simply announce to the public that the unknown arsonist had possibly left a calling card at the scene. The implications of that could certainly cause a disturbance, even if there was nothing solid to back it up.

So Megamind had offered his assistance - and his considerable brain - in getting to the bottom of this little mystery. The last thing anyone wanted was a potential serial arsonist running around the city, and if helping out meant working off yet another of his life sentences, Megamind was only too happy to do it.

He raised his hand in the air. A brainbot descended to pluck the beetle card from his fingers. "Start a new section," he instructed and the 'bot flew off to hang the small piece of paper from the ceiling.

"Any luck yet, sir?" Minion asked.

He approached carrying a large novelty mug that read 'We All Go A Little MAD SCIENTIST Sometimes!' on its side. He placed it on the table beside the scattered items. Megamind looked down at the mug and his expression brightened instantly.

"With extra marsh-mahllows," he said warmly. He glanced up at his friend. "Ah, Minion. How you know me." He picked up the mug and took a sip. The mass of coagulated marshmallows floating on the surface of the steamy beverage left a sticky-looking moustache across his upper lip. "Perfect!" he sighed.

Megamind sat back in the chair and cradled the mug in both hands. "There isn't much to go on, I'm afraid," he said, indicating the scraps on the table's surface. "Not yet. The police would like these back in evidence soon, so I want to ask Roxanne to snap a few photos when we see her later. Then I can get them on the ceiling." He motioned to where the brainbot had just hung the beetle card along a new section of the idea wall.

Minion glanced at the image depicted on the latest addition to the ceiling display. The beetle with the flame on its shell seemed to be crawling at a diagonal angle toward the upper-left corner of the card. "Are we thinking calling card of a new villain?" he asked.

Megamind made an indignant huffing noise, but then he shrugged. "A little too early to determine that, perhaps," he said. Although Megamind was no longer a super villain himself, the idea of anyone thinking they could fill his shoes here in Metro City made him take a little umbrage. On the other hand, he had to admit he certainly wouldn't mind the challenge.

"I'm going to increase the brainbot patrol, just to be on the safe side," he said. "If this was done by someone looking for a bit of fame, they will be sorely disappointed by the lack of press. It may be enough to make them hasty and sloppy in any future attempts. We should be able to spot them. Then again, if this was a mere isolated incident, it won't be any cause for further alarm. The police, or I, will catch up with them eventually."

He took another sip of his drink. His tongue poked out to collect the smear of marshmallow along his upper lip. Yet his expression remained pensive.

"Everything all right, sir?" Minion asked.

"Oh . . . yes," Megamind replied with an absent wave of his hand. "Just disappointed, Minion. Roxanne and I always said we would go back there again - to, perhaps, try for more positive memories - and it's disheartening to know we can't do that now."

"Ah," Minion said. "That was the restaurant where Ms. Ritchi learned you had been lying to her."

Megamind bristled. "If you mean is that the place where she discovered I had selectively chosen which truths and untruths to reveal under the guise of maintaining an initially unintentional char-ahde in an effort to enact upon the very real feelings I was developing for her then . . . then . . ."

Minion raised an eyebrow at his master and Megamind deflated.

"Then yes," he said. "That's where she found out I lied."

Minion nodded. "I see."

"We had hoped to go back," Megamind lamented. "Clean slate, you know - maybe even get to eat this time. But-" He gestured to the items on the table. "Seems that won't happen now."

Minion placed a robotic hand on the back of Megamind's chair. "Sorry, sir," he said.

"Eh," Megaimind replied with an overemphasized shrug. "It's no big deal. I suppose I could consider it one unpleasant door we don't have to worry about opening again. It had seemed important to Roxanne, though."

"I guess you'll just have to do something different for her," Minion offered helpfully.

"That I will, Minion," Megamind affirmed with a smile. He took another sip from his mug, consequently re-growing his marshmallow mustache. "Now let's get back to hero's work!"

Roxanne was stirring some French vanilla creamer into her coffee when a raised hand caught her attention from across the café. She felt an unconscious grin spread over her face. He was sitting at the same table they had shared the other day, and he looked as though he had been waiting for her. He even had his own drink already in front of him. For that Roxanne was grateful. She didn't mind treating him last time, but the guy had expensive taste in coffee.

"Well hello, stranger," she said as she approached the table. "This seat taken?"

Wayne shrugged. "I was saving it for a friend, but . . ." He slid the chair across from him out with his foot and Roxanne lowered herself onto it.

"Twice in one week," she mused. "I haven't seen you this often since the last time I got my Frequent Kidnapping Card punched."

"I needed to get away from my place for a while," Wayne admitted. "It's been a little confining lately."

Roxanne smiled. "Oh, how the roles get reversed," she said. "Megamind's out fighting crime, and you're escaping from prison." She raised a suspicious eyebrow at him. "You don't have some kidnapped damsel strapped to a bomb in your bunker, do you?"

Wayne laughed good-naturedly. "Let's just say I'm starting to find my surroundings a little less than inspiring."

"Do you need a word that rhymes with 'Herculean'?"

For a fraction of a second Wayne's eyes looked intrigued. Then he shook his head. "Would you believe I'm feeling burnout already?" he asked. "My music is based on what I know, but it turns out I only really know about one thing."

Roxanne bobbed her head back and forth. That made sense, actually.

"So, I thought getting out a little more might help," he said. "You know, experience something else. I'm not bugging you, am I?"

"Oh no," Roxanne assured him. "Of course not. I just can't extend my break as much as I did last time. I have a follow-up report later on last night's fire."

Wayne took a sip of his drink and nodded. "Yeah, I caught your broadcast earlier. It's a real shame; that was a nice restaurant. They think it might be arson, huh?"

"Oh, they're certain it was," Roxanne said. "A bomb, in fact. They're just not releasing all the information to the public yet." She leaned against the table toward him. "The fire marshal wants me keeping this off the record for a day or so," she whispered, "so the public doesn't start jumping to conclusions. But they found a suspicious-looking card at the scene - something that might have been left behind by whoever set the explosives."

Wayne crossed his arms on the table and nodded. He looked interested. It was probably strange for him to be receiving second-hand information about a crime, Roxanne thought, especially since he always used to be right in the thick of things.

"In all the time you were defending Metro City, did you ever run into a villain whose symbol was some kind of beetle with a flame on its shell?" she asked him.

Wayne pursed his lips and shook his head thoughtfully. "Not that I can recall," he answered. "Is that what they think it might be? Some kind of new villain?"

"They don't know what to think yet," she replied. "And I can't speculate over the air - not until they have something solid. For all we know, it could just be some kid's playing card. But it seemed so strange to find it at a high-end restaurant like Le Cœur Brisé, so they want to look into it first. They certainly don't want the public worrying about this becoming a recurring thing until after they've had the chance to investigate what it might mean."

"So they're investigating it now?" he asked.

"Megamind's helping," Roxanne replied as she sat back and took a sip of her coffee. "He's got most of what they gathered back at the lair right now. I think he wanted to look into the image on the card and see if what you just said could be true - that some up-and-coming villain might be trying to use it as a way to get his foot in the door in Metro City."

Wayne chuckled. "You know I hadn't thought of it before, but now that he's the good guy, I guess Megamind could potentially have a few contenders for his new nemesis."

Roxanne rolled her eyes. "I have a feeling he would be extremely picky about who gets labeled as his rival. Knowing Megamind, he'll probably have a sophisticated application process . . . maybe even hold auditions." She averted her eyes innocently down into her coffee as she added, "But something tells me no one will ever measure up to his old rival."

Wayne raised an eyebrow at her. "You're not suggesting that I turn evil now, are you?"

Roxanne shrugged. "You did say you wanted to experience something new."

He let out a quick, incredulous bark of not-really-laughter.

"I'm kidding!" Roxanne said, though she was certain he knew that. "But like I said last time, he probably wouldn't turn you down if you had some advice on this. If full-blown retirement is starting to feel a little confining, you might consider a little freelance work." She smirked at him. "Don't think I didn't see how interested you got as soon as I mentioned suspicious bug pictures and potential villainy."

"A freelance hero?" he asked with amusem*nt.

"Sure," she shrugged. "Did you give any thought to what I said last time we were-"

The sound of her cell phone ringing cut her off. Roxanne excused herself momentarily, put down her drink and fished around the inside of her purse for it. If it was work, she might need to get back sooner than she had expected. As she drew the phone out, she noticed the words 'Incoming Call: Megamind' lighting up the screen. She flashed an amused quirk of her lips at Wayne as she turned the phone in his direction to show him the display.

"Speak of the devil!" she said. "Just one second." She flipped the phone open and held it to her ear. "Hey, you."

"Hel-LO, Roxanne?"

She smiled. Ever since Minion had instructed him as to the proper pronunciation of "hello", Megamind had a habit of overemphasizing his telephone greetings.

"Yep, what's up?"

"I'm not interrupting you at work, am I?" Megamind said. "I was hoping to catch you during your break."

"No problem," she replied. "Your timing's perfect. I'm just on my break now."

"Oh, good!" he said. "Would it be possible for you to bring your camera with you when you stop by later? I'd like to get a few pictures of the items found at the fire. The police want them back in evidence soon."

"Sure," she answered. "I'll stop by my apartment on my way back to the station and grab it. I'm at the coffee shop now, so it's right on the way." She glanced at Wayne who was taking another sip of his coffee. "By the way - good news! You'll never guess who's here with me right now!"

"Really? Who?" Megamind asked.

Wayne simultaneously spluttered coffee everywhere.

He grabbed a napkin to capture the beads of liquid that had clung to his beard and waved his other hand in an imploring gesture, shaking his head no emphatically.

"Um," Roxanne blinked at him. "Uh . . ." She began to flounder on the phone. She cast about, looking for something - anything - to finish her thought. Her eyes fell on the front counter, where - as luck would have it - a familiar lanky, sandy-haired young man sat, plunking numbers into his own cell phone.

"Owen!" she announced.

"Oh . . . ," Megamind responded. "O-kay."

"Yeah, Owen is here," she repeated. "With me. At the coffee shop." She chuckled lamely. "Well, not exactly with me. He's at the counter."

"Oh," Megamind said again. He sounded puzzled. "And . . . how is that good news?"

"Well . . . ," Roxanne replied, improvising. "If he's here with me, that means he's not there. You know, with you." She punctuated her statement with another pitiful chuckle and rolled her eyes at herself.

"Ah," Megamind reasoned. She could practically hear the gears in his significant brain turning over the phone. She hoped her quick ad-libbing didn't sound too dense. "I never thought of it that way," he said. "I suppose that is good news!"

"Yeah," Roxanne sighed in relief. "And you know what? Maybe, if I see him here often enough, I could plant one of those little tracking devices on him that you gave me, and that way you and Minion will always know when he's headed your way!"

"Oh, Roxanne. You are so devilishly clever!" Megamind said. "I'm not sure that sort of behavior fits into the Hero's Code of Ethics - it must be against some rule of scruples and anti-evil-ness. But I certainly appreciate the thought."

"Heh," she replied. "No problem." Her shoulders sagged in relief and she leaned her elbows upon the table in front of her. She spared a glance at Wayne, who had turned his attention back toward his drink, avoiding her eyes. "I'll get the camera as soon as I leave here, and I'll see you soon."

They said their goodbyes and Roxanne snapped the cell phone shut. She set it down on the table and looked more intently at Wayne. For an awkward, quiet moment she did nothing but drum her fingers against her arm.

"Tracking devices on citizens are against the Hero Code," he finally offered.

"Oh no, uh-uh!" she retorted. "You don't get to trap me into concocting the lamest cover story I've ever come up with and then get all sanctimonious on me. You want to tell me why you didn't want him to know you're here?"

"I told you," he said with a shrug. "I'm not sure it's the right time for that."

"And from where I'm sitting, there doesn't seem to be a better time," Roxanne replied, trying to keep her voice down. "It's not like he doesn't already know you're around, Wayne. He's already had the huge shock of seeing you alive. We both have. I'm sure he'll be able to handle hearing about you."

"It's not that," Wayne countered.

"Well, then what?" Roxanne said, exasperated. "C'mon, spill. Is this some kind of guilt thing because he got picked last for wiffle ball in school, or something? Because he hinted that-"

"Roxanne," Wayne interrupted. "Don't take this the wrong way. But maybe this isn't about him."

Roxanne blinked, effectively silenced. He actually looked . . . angry. She had never seen him look angry. She'd seen his Intense Scowl of Justice many times when he was fighting Megamind, but she'd never seen him look genuinely upset. It was unsettling. She was immediately sorry she had pushed him.

She took a deep breath and brushed her bangs across her forehead. She was about to apologize when her phone lit up again. It vibrated in little hops upon the table as it rang. Roxanne sighed heavily and looked down at it. It wasn't Megamind this time; it was work.

She reached her hand across the table and laid it softly against Wayne's wrist - a substitute gesture for the apology that had been pre-empted by the phone call.

"One second," she muttered and flipped the phone to her ear. "Hi, Alan."

"We need you downtown, Ritchi," her producer barked gruffly into the phone.

Roxanne checked her watch. She wasn't running late yet. "Yeah, I'm heading over there soon," she said. "I just have to swing by my apartment for something first. I'll make it in plenty of time for the next report."

"I don't think you heard me," Alan snapped. "We need you downtown. Now." There was a tone of urgency in his voice that made Roxanne's stomach suddenly squirm.

Alan continued speaking, and Roxanne felt the color drain from her face with each word. When he was finished she snapped the phone closed and glanced up at Wayne again. He looked as grim as she felt, which meant he had probably heard both sides of the conversation.

Super-hearing, after all.

Roxanne still felt the need to explain, if only to hear herself say it aloud.

"I have to go," she said. "There's been another bombing. At Metro Tower."

To be continued . . .

Chapter 4: Beetle-Bomber

Chapter Text

Roxanne could see smoke curling from the side of Metro Tower when she was still a few blocks away. It looked as though the smoke was coming from halfway up - somewhere around the 50th floor, where the newly rebuilt section began. The entire tower hadn't been completely finished yet - there were still a few floors undergoing some cosmetic reconstruction - but people had already begun working in the areas that had been completed. When Titan had ripped the tower in half, the building had long since been evacuated - along with much of the city. Now, however . . . there was no telling how many people were inside in the middle of a weekday.

Roxanne clenched the steering wheel of the KMCP van and wove as quickly as she could through the busy Metro City streets.

She slowed as she pulled up to the scene. The police had partitioned the area and moved the crowds back, but it looked as though they were allowing the press into a certain section. She approached it and a policeman moved a barrier to let her drive through. Roxanne noticed that hers was one of the first news stations on the scene; there were two other KMCP vehicles already parked up ahead. There were no other field reporters, but a few cameramen were busy recording footage. One of them had the satellite truck used for live broadcasts - a cameraman named Mark with whom Roxanne had worked several times during the last few months. She pulled her van up behind him.

"Just getting it set up," Mark called to her. "We should be ready to go live in just a few minutes."

Roxanne acknowledged him and checked her hair quickly in the rear-view mirror. Then she stepped closer to the scene for a better look while Mark finished preparing for the live broadcast.

It was more difficult to see the top of the tower from this angle. From the ground, all it looked like was a ceiling of smoke that began halfway up the building. Roxanne could see the electric azure glow of hundreds of brainbots swarming around the sides of the tower high above her. She hadn't spotted their master yet, but if they were already here, Megamind couldn't be far behind.

Roxanne scanned the firefighters, police, and EMTs scrambling purposefully at the base of the tower. Every so often one would emerge from the main doors supporting a soot-covered victim. As Roxanne watched the bustle of movement, she caught sight of a familiar hulking metal frame. She immediately ran along the police barricade toward it.

"Minion!" she called out.

He had been standing close to the base of the tower, looking up. He was holding a remote device in his robotic hand that Roxanne recognized as one used to control the brainbots and several of Megamind's other creations. When Roxanne called to him, the fish jerked slightly in his bowl and swam in a quick circle to face her.

"Ms. Ritchi!" he called back, but he didn't seem surprised to see her. They were at the same scenes a lot now that Megamind was a hero. (Although, truth be told, the same could have been said when he was a villain too.)

Roxanne leaned over the barrier. "What happened?" she asked. "How long have you been here?"

"We got an alert from one of the patrolling brainbots as soon as the boss got off the phone with you," Minion replied. "We got here just before most of the emergency crews."

Roxanne felt a mist of water spray lightly upon her face. She looked up again to see Megamind's blimp hovering high above them, close to the side of the tower. The jets that had formerly belched black acrid clouds of smoke were now showering streams of water upon the floors that were beyond the reach of the on-scene fire trucks. Stray droplets fell upon the ground like rain.

"Where is he?" she asked, looking back at Minion.

"Up there," Minion said, indicating the top of the tower. "Somewhere. I lost contact with him a few minutes ago."

Roxanne felt her stomach twist. "Lost contact?"

"Don't worry, Ms. Ritchi," Minion said gently. "He's probably just too occupied to answer on his watch. If something was really wrong, the brainbots up there with him would raise an alarm."

Roxanne nodded, but as she looked back up the length of the tower, she couldn't help but worry. She remembered Hal saying that Metro Tower only served as a painful reminder of the night she had rejected him, but he wasn't the only one who had bad memories of this place. Being bound with twisted metal to the very top notwithstanding, Roxanne still couldn't picture the tower without imagining Megamind impaled by the antennae at its pinnacle and slumped against a fountain among heaps of rubble. The fact that it hadn't actually been him at the time didn't erase the image from her mind. It would probably continue to stay with her for some time.

Roxanne bit her lip and continued to look upward.

A moment later, the growl of an engine sounded over the flurry of activity surrounding the tower, and Roxanne's stomach fluttered again. She felt a wave of relief wash over her as Megamind's rocket-cycle descended rapidly through the smoke. It pulled up momentarily a few feet before reaching the ground, then gently settled itself on the pavement. Roxanne could make out Megamind's bulbous blue head nested among four other bodies piled on top of the bike - three women and one man.

The man and two of the women immediately slid off the bike. They staggered - a little off-balance - toward waiting emergency workers who herded them away from the tower. One woman remained clinging desperately to Megamind's neck, as though she hadn't realized she was finally on the ground.

"Madame," Megamind croaked out. The word sounded like it got stuck in his throat as the woman squeezed tighter. Megamind's eyes bugged out like a chameleon's. "Ma-dame, please!" He reached up to pry her arms away from his neck and cape. "You're quite safe now."

The woman opened her eyes and finally seemed to register her surroundings. She released her death-grip on Megamind's neck, but as she slid off the bike she kept a tight hold on his cape, as though it was her lifeline until she finally touched her feet to the pavement. A policeman appeared to guide the shaky woman away.

Megamind hopped off the bike as well. He drew his hand down the length of his soot-stained face, and rubbed gingerly at his throat. "Minion!" he called out.

Minion hurried to him. "Here, sir!"

Megamind gave his henchman a very official look, then his face broke into a wide grin. "How did I look, Minion?" he asked eagerly. "Did I look heroic?"

"Epically heroic, sir!" Minion affirmed.

"Excellent!" Megamind replied, rooting his hands to his hips. "But make a note: capes can be something of a painful liability during dramatic rescues." He winced as he touched his neck again.

"I'll begin working on something functional and fashionable, sir."

"In addition," Megamind said, "we might want to think about constructing a side car for the rocket-cycle."

"Duly noted, sir."

Roxanne smiled as she watched him. Soot and ash from the burning building clung to his face and clothes, yet he looked positively giddy in his success. The girlfriend in Roxanne wanted to run to him immediately and let him know how happy she was that he was all right. The journalist in her, however, knew to keep a professional distance. The fire was still burning; the area was still dangerous. He probably still had work to do.

That line of thinking lasted for about ten seconds - when he finally made eye contact with her.

"Roxanne!" he shouted. The grin he wore when he spotted her was infectious. "Did you see?"

Roxanne couldn't help it. She ducked beneath the police barrier, ignoring one cop's shout of protest, and ran to him. She threw her arms around Megamind's shoulders tightly. His clothes were wet - probably from flying through the streams of water spouted by the blimp. Roxanne didn't care.

"I saw," she murmured in his ear. "You did good, hero."

He held her to him briefly, but they couldn't stay like that for long. There was still a good deal of urgency in the air and they both had jobs to do. As they pulled away from each other, Megamind looked upward at the tower.

"I don't think there's anyone left up on the floor where it happened," he said to Minion. "The brainbots inside are still clearing away some of the rubble from the explosion. If they find anyone, call for me. I'd rather go back up myself than risk one of the brainbots trying to carry a person from that height."

"You got it, sir," Minion replied.

"I should check in with the fire chief," Megamind said, turning to Roxanne.

At that moment, Mark had also appeared (also against the gruff protests of a nearby policeman). He handed Roxanne a mic and told her they were ready to go live. Roxanne nodded to him and turned back to Megamind. She smiled playfully and gave him an affectionate little jab in the shoulder.

"Go get 'em," she said softly, holding the mic as she backed away. He grinned broadly in response and turned to jog swiftly in the other direction. Roxanne followed Mark back toward the van.

They both had jobs to do, after all.

Wayne watched smoke pour from the side of Metro Tower as he stood among the crowd of people herded behind the police barriers. He had never viewed the scene of a catastrophe from this vantage point before. It felt like such a long time ago that a sea of anonymous citizens would gather to watch him whenever he defended the city - which, naturally, usually meant clashing with Megamind.

Now he was one of them.

Anonymous.

He stayed toward the back of the crowd gathered to watch the scene. His super vision enabled him to see much of what the other citizens could not from a relatively inconspicuous distance.

He caught sight of his little buddy bursting out of the smoke coming from the side of the tower, with at least four other people clinging both to him and to his rocket-bike. It was actually pretty impressive how he maneuvered that thing. Megamind had to keep the cycle relatively parallel to the ground to prevent those he was attempting to rescue from slipping off mid-flight. It probably took a great deal of effort to control such a machine, but the little guy made it seem as natural as flying had always been for Wayne.

Once Megamind reached the ground and the rescued citizens had been ushered to safety, Wayne watched as Roxanne ran to meet him. The two embraced and Wayne glanced away. He was happy for both of them, but watching them with his telescopic vision, even from this distance, made him feel a little like he was intruding. He busied himself with looking up at the burning building instead.

It looked as though Megamind and the first responders had kept the fire confined to one floor. That meant the damage would be comparatively minimal, which was definitely a good thing - especially since the tower was still being rebuilt from the last time. One side of the 50th floor would need serious repair, however. The blast had caused exposed steel rebars to curl outward from the building like reaching fingers. Large chunks of reinforced concrete still clung precariously to several of them. It was a good thing the police had managed to keep the crowds back.

To think, it had only been a short time ago that Wayne had been sitting in the café with Roxanne. Apparently, the explosion at the tower had occurred while they had been talking. Wayne had probably even heard it happen with his super hearing. However, he didn't remember consciously hearing it. If he had, it didn't register. He had probably unconsciously dismissed it as mere background noise since he was distracted by his conversation with the reporter.

No . . . Wayne thought. By his conversation with his friend.

When he had been defending Metro City, such a thing would never - could never - have happened. Metro Man had always been on the alert for such incidents - always careful not to be distracted - which was why the job had been so exhausting. Not physically, of course - Wayne had never in his life felt physically tired. But mentally, heroism had been very draining - finding himself pulled in one direction, then another: a bank robbery here, a busload of senior citizens dangling off a cliff there, the odd kitten up a tree - all spaced between his inevitable battles against Megamind's doomsday creations.

Contrary to what he had told Megamind and Roxanne several months ago, tiring of the superhero grind had far more to do with things like this - everyday accidents, common criminals, and unforeseen disasters that could occur at any given moment on any typical day - than it ever had to do with his elaborate run-ins with Megamind. In fact, Wayne could usually count on his rival to reserve his biggest and best plots for moments that would attract the biggest audience. Megamind had always been relatively predictable in that way, and for that, Wayne was actually grateful. It meant he could relax his guard for a change, even if it was ever so slightly.

But today's explosion at Metro Tower was the sort of incident that Wayne had always been on guard for in the past. The fact that he had missed it completely because he had been engrossed in conversation was a little disturbing to him. Even though he was no longer Metro City's hero - and therefore no longer needed to be so tirelessly watchful - he couldn't help but feel a strange niggling guilt that such an occurrence had slipped past his senses so easily.

Maybe it wasn't his job anymore, but old habits died hard. And, apparently, so did the feelings that went with them. He had felt that same sort of nagging guilt crawl into his conscience the day he had refused to help take care of Titan. Just because he had insisted (both out loud and to himself) that quitting had been his choice - what he needed and deserved for a change - it didn't make those feelings go away.

Wayne's attention drifted back down to where Roxanne and Megamind had parted and begun moving away from each other. His eyes followed the reporter as she ducked back behind the police barrier - probably to begin her live report. In an unguarded moment, Wayne's mind - which he had always imagined as only capable of generating ideas that were honorable and noble - betrayed him with an uncharacteristically uncharitable thought: perhaps his distraction at the café had been all her fault.

Wayne's eyes widened and he physically shook himself. As quickly as it had arisen, he stamped the thought down and banished it to the "Things Heroes Shouldn't Think About" part of his brain.

Wayne had always been fond of Roxanne. Of course he had - they couldn't have made up two points of the city's most famous hero-villain-damsel triangle and not share an odd sort of bond. And for years he may have even thought she had been a friend, but he was beginning to realize that, until now, he hadn't really understood the concept of that. In fact, the past two times they had met at the coffee shop were probably the only times they'd ever really talked. About anything . . . at least anything that didn't involve Justice, Righteousness, the Consequences of Evildoings, and anything else that could have been just as easily aired in an interview for the masses.

He certainly didn't know anything about her personally. Heck, it was only a few days ago that he learned she didn't like being called "Roxie." A friend - a real one - would have known that.

Yet, it seemed Megamind had known. Almost from the beginning.

Wayne was no fool. He knew rumors had circulated for years that he and Roxanne had been a couple. At the time, it had just seemed advantageous not to dispute it. Not only did it give the citizens something to romanticize over, but it also helped Roxanne's career and kept throngs of fawning women (and sometimes even men) from throwing themselves at him. Most of the time, anyway.

It wasn't until today that Wayne really thought about how, with the possible exception of his late parents, he had never really had any close relationships or friendships before. Not real ones - not since he had begun defending the city full-time. He had kept himself at a professional distance - his wide, sparkling smile a veritable shield - because he was the hero. Ironic that today would also be the day he realized how having such relationships might have been a liability and a danger to the city's safety.

If Metro City's defender had missed hearing the signs of a disaster because he had been too distracted by something as simple as talking to someone - even if that someone was just a friend - it might have inadvertently become a tragedy.

And yet, he thought as he glanced from Roxanne to the blue figure at the opposite base of the tower, Megamind seems to manage that too.

The thought came out unintentionally bitter and cynical. Wayne shook himself again and did his best to banish it as well.

If he didn't pull himself out of these melancholy doldrums soon, the only music he'd be capable of writing would probably be angsty folk rock or country western.

Wayne pulled the collar of his trenchcoat closed tightly with one fist. Metro City's new defender seemed to have things well in hand now so there probably wasn't much more left to see. He knew the gathering citizens would begin trickling away now that the excitement was over. Wayne decided to lead the way.

He turned to begin his trek back to his home. Break time was over, and he had a score to settle with a fiendish guitar.

A sharp resonant sound caught his attention - like the screeching noise of metal sliding against stone. Wayne looked back at the tower curiously. He didn't see anything. He glanced back and forth at the crowd around him. No one else seemed to have noticed, so it must have been something only his super hearing had been able to catch. He squinted as he used his super vision to scrutinize the damage to the tower.

Wayne looked at the hole that had been blasted out of the 50th floor. He focused on the jagged bloom of steel rebars, which had once helped to reinforce the tensile strength of the building's concrete. They now spiked outward from the tower, as though frozen that way by the blast. The ends of some curled up toward the sky, while others angled down toward the pavement below.

As Wayne looked at them, he caught the sound again - the dissonant screech of metal against stone. His eyes searched that spot until he finally saw it - a large chunk of concrete with a dangerously unstable grip on the very end of one of the bars. The instant Wayne spotted it, the chunk of masonry slid free of the rebar with a final shrill shriek.

Wayne's gut twisted as he looked at the sidewalk below - where Roxanne and her cameraman were giving their live broadcast.

It was headed straight for her, and she didn't see it.

No one had seen it.

And Megamind was too far away to do anything, even if he had.

The concrete chunk picked up speed as it plummeted violently toward the ground.

"Ahh-CHOO!"

A sudden gust of wind slammed into the side of the falling masonry, slightly changing its trajectory. It crashed to the pavement behind Roxanne, taking out a portion of the police barricade. Roxanne jumped and let out a startled scream, momentarily losing some of the on-air poise she always displayed. Her hand flew to her chest as she gaped at the large piece of building that had missed her by only about a foot. Mark the cameraman zoomed in on it.

When he refocused the camera on her, Roxanne seemed to have regained her composure.

"As you can see, the scene is still extremely dangerous," she announced professionally. If her voice shook, it was barely noticeable. "For safety reasons, citizens of Metro City should avoid the area completely. Stay tuned to KMCP 8; we'll keep you updated as to when emergency crews give the all-clear. This is Roxanne Ritchi reporting live from Metro Tower."

She made a quick slashing motion across her throat. Mark cut the feed and lowered the camera. A moment later Roxanne slouched forward. She put her hands on her knees and stared at the rock embedded in the sidewalk. She looked much more visibly shaken now than she had seemed when the camera was rolling.

"Roxanne!"

Megamind vaulted over the fallen chunk of building and the remains of the mangled police barrier. He must have started running as soon as he heard the concrete slam into the ground. Minion was close behind him. As he reached Roxanne he caught her by the arms. The inertia of his run spun them both around before he was able to pull to a stop.

"Are you all right?" He looked her up and down. His green eyes were huge, and they seemed rather panicked.

Roxanne placed one hand on his chest. That got him to look up at her face. "I'm fine," she insisted. "It landed over there." As she gestured to where the concrete chunk had smashed into the pavement, she managed a weak smile at him. "I just got startled."

Megamind stared down at it, then glanced up at the building. He almost looked to be mentally calculating where it had probably come from, and the likelihood that it would have missed Roxanne by so few inches.

"Hey?" Roxanne said, getting his attention focused back on her. "That was exciting, huh?" she asked breathlessly. "The station is definitely going to milk that shot for a while. I hope I at least scare gracefully."

Megamind finally smiled and scooped her into an embrace. He seemed a little tenser than usual as he held her. On the other hand, Roxanne's body looked as though it was sagging bonelessly and gratefully against him.

Wayne drew his index finger back and forth beneath his nose. He sniffed.

Someone standing in the crowd in front of him turned around. "Gesundheit, man," he said.

"Thank you, friend," Wayne replied. He looked back at where Megamind and Roxanne were standing.

Megamind glanced up over Roxanne's shoulder, his eyes taking in the crowd still gathered beyond the police barricades. Wayne put his head down. Megamind probably couldn’t see him - not from this distance - but Wayne tipped his fedora downward to cover his face anyway.

Then he tuned, shoved his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat, and began a slow walk back to the schoolhouse.

Later that afternoon, Megamind rocked one foot against the floor and swiveled his chair gently back and forth as he stared at the images on the new pieces of paper dangling down from his ceiling. Once all the people inside Metro Tower had been accounted for - thankfully, with only minor injuries - he had left the brainbots to continue cleanup while he and Minion returned to the lair to amass the new evidence.

It seemed very much the same as the last incident - pieces of what looked like a homemade bomb with a cell phone used as the trigger. According to the fire marshal, whoever had planted it had likely nestled it behind a window blind on the 50th floor, either during office hours yesterday or earlier this morning. Then they had called the cell phone this afternoon, triggering the explosion. It was very lucky no one had been seriously injured, or worse - not to mention what could have happened if the fire had spread beyond the floor where the bomb went off.

Megamind turned his hand palm-up and glanced down at the object he held in it. He frowned. It was the one piece of evidence not yet hanging from the ceiling, and it was the one that troubled him the most. A fireman at Metro Tower had turned in yet another card depicting the same beetle with the flame on its shell that had been found at the last scene. This one, however, wasn't found on the sidewalk outside; this one had been up on the 50th floor, not far from where the detonation had occurred.

The fact that both explosions had been deliberately set by the same person was indisputable now, but what Megamind didn't yet understand was why. He had been a villain, naturally, so it was simple enough to think like one. Megamind could admit that a landmark monument like Metro Tower was a viable target for terrorism - even if doing so was a little unoriginal in his opinion. But what about the restaurant? There wasn't much of a connection between the two. Unless this "Beetle-Bomber" was just choosing public places at random.

If that was the case, it would make catching this person much more difficult.

Megamind let out a loud sigh and slouched back in his seat.

"I know that look."

Roxanne had come up behind him and leaned her arm upon the high back of his chair.

Megamind glanced up at her with a small smile. "Am I being predictable again?"

Roxanne tossed him a lopsided grin in response and made a motion toward his legs with one hand. He promptly uncrossed them and sat up straighter. He unclasped his cape and folded it over one arm of the chair. Roxanne stepped around him and settled herself onto his lap.

"Thank you," she said, indicating the cape. "It's nice to not have to lean against the spikes."

He smiled as he draped one arm against her lower back and the other over her legs.

"And no," Roxanne continued as she circled an arm around his shoulders and rested against him, also facing the images dangling from the ceiling. "Not predictable. I think I'm just starting to recognize your moods." She glanced at his profile. "What's bugging you?"

Megamind looked thoughtful for a moment before he turned to face her. "I'm concerned about his motives. I think that's part of it."

"Who, the 'Beetle-Bomber'?" She emphasized the name with air-quotes.

"Yes, the Beetle-Bomber," he replied. "He seems to want to promote himself as a villain: He follows a formula, he leaves tacky calling cards . . ." Megamind made a disgusted face as he indicated the card in his hand. "But villainy - real villainy - requires a certain flash that he doesn't seem to have the patience for. I mean, he didn't even give his first explosion time to gather its due attention. He didn't let the information about the card he left at the scene unfold slowly and menacingly through media and whispered speculations. He didn't give the whole thing time to fester like a pestilence in the hearts and minds of the people of Metrocity before he struck again." He clenched one hand into a dramatic fist and held it toward the papers dangling from the ceiling.

Roxanne stared at him for several long seconds before she finally blinked. "Um," she ventured. "Just so I'm clear: are you condemning him, or are you looking to give him pointers?"

"What?" Megamind shrugged. "Is it too much to ask for someone to at least take a little pride in his work? I may be a hero now, but I know what makes a good villain."

"A 'good villain'?" Roxanne repeated. She laughed. "No, I'm just saying you may want to dial down the doom-and-pestilence-talk, Mr. Hero. Just a little."

"Oh," Megamind said. He chuckled, blushing slightly. "Yes, of course you're right." He held the card up. A brainbot appeared, plucked it from his fingers and flew off to add it to the ceiling. "I guess what I'm getting at is: it's odd that whoever did this rushed to execute another bombing so soon," Megamind mused. "The explosion at Metro Tower came within hours of the one at the restaurant. I had thought he might get hasty, but not this hasty."

"Well, we didn't put the information about the card on the news yet," Roxanne offered. "Maybe the Beetle-Bomber didn't realize we knew about it and wanted to make sure we found the next one."

Megamind frowned. "Then he's impatient," he muttered. "In a way, that's worse than just being sloppy and unprofessional. He might have as-peer-ations of villainy, but he's really just a loose cannon. That can be a real problem." He averted his eyes from Roxanne's as he added, "Like Titan."

Megamind didn't like bringing up Titan too often. Although Hal Stewart had made his own poor choices, it had been Megamind who had infused him with Metro Man's abilities - thus giving Hal ammunition to pursue his desire for both power and a twisted sort of respect. Metro City - and Roxanne - had suffered for that. Hal had been a definite menace, and Megamind had spent the better part of a year trying to make up for unleashing him on the city.

If this Beetle-Bomber was anything like that, it could only spell trouble. It didn't matter if a villain had super powers or not. Megamind had learned there was nothing more dangerous than a bad guy with an itchy trigger finger and a delusion that he wasn't being taken seriously enough.

"So what else is bothering you, then?"

Roxanne's voice cut into the cloud of his thoughts. He only managed to register what she said enough to respond with a distracted, "Huh?"

Roxanne smiled at him as he finally refocused on her face. "You said you questioned his motives, but you also said that was only part of what was bothering you." She nudged him. "What else?"

Megamind blinked at her for a moment, then sighed heavily and leaned back in the chair. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked her. "After what happened?"

Roxanne's brow furrowed in confusion. "You mean earlier?" she asked. "The falling concrete? Of course," she answered with another good-natured nudge to his side. "I told you, I'm fine. It didn't even come close."

Megamind grinned wryly. That was a major understatement and Roxanne certainly knew it. She also had to know he wouldn't buy into her downplaying what had happened for a moment. However, he chose not to argue. Instead he said, "It could have, though. And I wouldn't have been able to stop it."

The look Roxanne gave him was both tender and concerned. "Hey," she said softly. She placed a hand gently against the side of his face and smoothed the pad of her thumb along his high cheekbone. "You shouldn't think about things like that. There are too many real issues for the city's hero to deal with without focusing on what-ifs. Everything is fine. Really."

Megamind looked back at her. Then he quickly shoved his feet against the floor, propelling them both backward as the chair rolled through the lair. Roxanne yelped slightly then giggled at the sudden swift movement. She tightened her grip on him as they sped along the floor. Megamind smiled. He might be feeling a little serious at the moment, but he was certainly glad for any opportunity he had to make her laugh.

The chair stopped in front of the monitors and Megamind leaned forward to punch a few buttons. A map of the city came up on the screen. Two red dots marked where the two explosions had occurred. He sat back in the chair again.

"I'm a genius," he pointed out.

"And a humble one, at that," Roxanne replied, giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze.

He looked at her with a wan smile. "But I'm not Metro Man," he stated plainly.

Roxanne's features fell a bit when she seemed to grasp he was serious.

"If there's a pattern to these explosions, eventually I'm going to see it," he clarified. "But the unfortunate fact is: there will probably be more before that happens. It's not as though I can listen for evil plots with my super hearing, or detect the odor of a wicked soldering iron assembling homemade bombs with my super sense of smell." He sighed heavily again and glanced back at the monitors. "We've been lucky no one has been seriously hurt by this person so far . . ." He paused and gave Roxanne a meaningful look. "But who knows what will happen next time. And it's not like I have super speed or super strength on my side when the next time comes." He shook his head. "I just don't want to let the city down. Or you."

Roxanne had been listening with an understanding expression. When Megamind finished, she nodded. "Can I say something now?" she asked.

Megamind acknowledged her with little head bob and she shifted on his lap to face him more fully. "I think you need to snap out of it," she said, both gently and seriously.

Megamind's eyes widened. "What?"

"You are a super genius," she reminded him. "Don't think for a second that doesn't count for something. Not to mention, you've had a pretty good track record for winning since you became a good guy. I have no doubt you'll be able to do the same this time too. It won't be long before you see some brilliant detail no one else ever would, and then you'll take down this Beetle-Bomber guy with style." She wrapped her fingers around his hand as it rested upon her legs. "This city is lucky to have you; don't ever forget that." She grinned with real affection in her eyes. "And so am I."

Megamind smiled at her. A show of support from Roxanne always made him feel as though he could do anything.

"As for Metro Man," she added with a shrug, "he may be stronger and faster than anyone else in the world, but he certainly wasn't psychic. He didn't instinctively know when something bad was going to happen; he just managed to get there fast when it did. With all the brainbots you've got out there, watching this city like little sentinels, I'd say you have an equal advantage."

Megamind's eyes widened. "I might be able to equip them with super-sensitive hearing or smelling capabilities," he mused, only half-joking.

Roxanne settled back against him again. "Besides, if you think about it, Metro Man was really pretty lousy at predicting villainous behavior," she said. "I mean, it's not like he ever managed to prevent a certain reporter from getting kidnapped on an almost-weekly basis, did he?"

Megamind made a humming noise as he pondered that. He swiveled the chair slightly with his foot and nodded. "That's true. Certainly not the most stunning powers of deduction."

"Seriously!" Roxanne continued in a playful rant. "Exactly how many brain cells do you have to rub together to think, 'Gee, Megamind's escaped from jail again. Maybe I should keep an eye on Roxanne Ritchi'!" She rolled her eyes and groaned dramatically.

Megamind raised his head from the chair back to fully take in her lovely profile. Roxanne's willing presence in his life never ceased to amaze him, even after all these months. With all the evil things he had done over the years, he must have done something incredibly right to ever deserve . . . this.

Roxanne must have felt his eyes on her because she turned her head. "What?" she asked with a suspicious smile. "What are you thinking?"

Megamind shrugged. "Well, there's a mad bomber on the loose," he said, tightening his grip around her waist. "I'm thinking I should keep an eye on Roxanne Ritchi."

Roxanne beamed at him. "My hero," she said.

Megamind raised his hand, which had been resting in her lap, and swept his long fingers along her face and back through the short strands of her hair. His fingertips came to rest lightly behind her ear. With a gentle bit of pressure, he drew her toward him. Roxanne smiled and closed her eyes, allowing herself to be guided until her mouth met his.

When Megamind had taken over the city as "Evil Overlord", he had promptly moved into City Hall. Of course, he hadn't realized at the time that the building was not, in fact, a residence. It had just made sense to him that, after becoming the Supreme Overlord of Metro City, he should relocate to the most impressively ornate building in town.

The only other choice would have been Scott Manor. And while it would have made some sad*stic sense for Megamind to move into the family home of his fallen rival, the option had never really even been considered. Maybe it was because its distance from the center of the city would have felt as far-removed as continuing to live in the Evil Lair. Maybe Megamind thought living in Metro Man's childhood home was bad form, even for him. Maybe because positioning himself at City Hall, closely among the people, would be a constant intimidating reminder of his fearsome presence.

Or maybe he just liked that it gave him an excuse to dance victoriously through the streets.

Whatever the reason, once Megamind was inside City Hall - after admiring the carpeting, the winding staircase, the artwork, the marble, the moldings, and the massive windows - the first thing he had done was look for the luxurious master bedroom which was now to be his.

A few hours and several blasted doors later, he had finally had to admit that he wasn't going to find what he was looking for. The building had a few plush employee lounges (even one with an ornamental fireplace and an out-of-tune piano) and an opulent bathroom or two (including one off the Mayor's central office which boasted a rather garish painting of Metro Man), but no actual domestic quarters whatsoever.

In his disgust, Megamind had dehydrated the old piano and kicked it under a bookshelf. (It was probably still there.)

Prior to his arrival at City Hall, Megamind hadn't anticipated that it was nothing more than a network of public offices. He could lord it over Metro City from behind a rich, mahogany desk, but that was about it. Minion had also been distressed over the fact that such a fine building didn't even seem to have a real kitchen. (Although the endless supply of sweets in the break room vending machines had suited Megamind just fine, temporarily.)

In short, it wasn't what either of them had expected.

Megamind had been disappointed enough to want to move back to the Evil Lair right away. (Discreetly, of course. He couldn't let all that good showmanship on the front steps go to waste.)

That was when Minion had offered a suggestion that lifted his boss's spirits a little.

"What do you say tomorrow we paint the dome blue?"

"Oh, Minion. You always have such good evil ideas!"

Now that Megamind was defending Metro City, things around City Hall had gotten mostly back to normal. (Though the dome was still blue, and the piano from the second floor still mysteriously missing.) And because the building was an office - not a residence - it was typically open to the public during regular business hours.

Which was why no one looked twice when, about an hour before most of the employees went home, a man walked inside carrying a nondescript brown paper bag.

Whistling cheerfully, he tipped his head to a bored-looking security guard and strode with purpose down one of the halls. After all, if one looks as though they belong somewhere, most people don't tend to take notice.

The man continued to whistle as he looked for the perfect place to leave his bundle.

To be continued . . .

Chapter 5: Revelations

Chapter Text

The brainbot's entire body quivered like an impatient dog. Megamind had to physically nudge it away with his hip several times as he bent over the engine of the invisible car. He knew what the little 'bot wanted, but he wasn't in a position to give it at the moment.

The brainbot bowged eagerly and once again attempted to get closer.

"No, no, no," Megamind chastised it gently, blocking its path. "This isn't playtime; it's Daddy's work time. Daddy will give you the wrench when he's finished."

The brainbot retreated yet again, but only slightly. It continued to hover near Megamind's elbow, still fiercely focused on the taunting piece of metal Megamind was currently using to tighten a loose bolt on the car's stealth generator. It swooped low toward the side of the car and raised its eyestalk above the level of the hood. The little red bulb blinked at the wrench, then turned and blinked pleadingly up at Megamind.

It let out a small, pitiful twang.

Megamind straightened from his work and wiped one arm across his forehead. He grinned at the little robot with affection. "Well, if you're going to give me that face," he said warmly. "You know Daddy can't say no to that face." He raised the wrench in his hand and the brainbot sprang up instantly.

"You want it?" Megamind asked with a hint of deviousness in his tone.

The brainbot waggled its whole body impatiently, staring at its favorite plaything.

"You reeeally want it?" Megamind continued as he gripped the wrench tightly and wound his arm back.

The brainbot trembled in anticipation. It looked like it was going to blow a gasket if it didn't get to play soon.

Megamind smiled. "Then go get it!" He heaved the wrench across the lair and the brainbot sailed after it in pursuit. As the wrench clattered noisily against the floor, a few more 'bots descended from the rafters and joined in the chase. Megamind continued to grin after them. That would keep them occupied for a little while. He turned back to the open hood of the car as Minion appeared with a few jugs of motor oil and a box of assorted donuts.

"To fuel the engine," Minion said as he placed the new oil on a wheeled cart beside the car. "And to fuel the boss." He held the donuts temptingly under Megamind's nose.

Megamind grinned broadly and selected a sprinkle-covered, cream-filled one. "Ahh . . . perfect!" he sighed. "Thank you, Minion."

"No problem, sir," Minion replied.

Minion stooped down and glanced under the car where a yellow basin was filled almost to the brim with oil. Only the occasional drip was still draining from the car above. He extended one of the mechanical arms of his suit and reached beneath the vehicle to replace the oil drain plug. Then he dragged the basin out.

"Looks like all the old oil's been drained, sir," he said. "We can add the new jugs now."

"Excellent!" Megamind said. "You do that, then I want to test the adjustments I made to the stealth generator. We don't want the car flickering in and out like it's been doing lately."

"You got it, sir." Minion busied himself with prepping the car engine to add the new motor oil. He hummed cheerfully as he unscrewed the cap of one of the jugs and tipped it upside-down into a funnel, letting the new oil drain down through the engine.

"Minion?"

The fish glanced up to see Megamind leaning on his forearms against the car. He was staring absently at the donut in his hand. Apparently, he had only taken a bite or two from it. Judging by the expression on Megamind's face, something big had begun brewing in his mind. Minion looked at him with concern.

"Everything all right, sir?" he asked cautiously.

Megamind looked up. He seemed uncharacteristically pensive. "Yes, Minion, I just . . ." He straightened and dropped the donut back into the box, brushing his hands together as he abandoned it. Minion stiffened suspiciously in his bowl as he looked uneasily back at his friend.

"Minion, I've come to an important decision," Megamind announced resolutely. He placed his hands against the side of the car, as though bracing himself for what he was about to say, and took a deep breath. "I . . . am in love," he said. "With Roxanne Ritchi."

There was a pregnant pause. Minion only blinked at him. Then the fish's gorilla body seemed to sag with what looked like relief. His robotic hand reached up to rest against his robotic chest. "Oh," he sighed, "is that all? You had me worried for a minute there, sir."

Megamind stared at Minion incredulously. "Wha-?" he floundered. "What do you mean, 'is that all '? You-? You mean you knew?"

Minion froze just as he was about to remove the first quart of oil from the funnel in the engine and replace it with another. His eyes went huge and he straightened away from the car. His hands flew up to his bowl in an attempt to cover his mouth. "Oh!" he gasped. "Oh, sir! I'm so sorry! Was I . . . not supposed to know that?"

Granted, Minion had assumed as much months ago - and had even said so - but the boss had never actually confirmed it out loud before.

Megamind opened his empty hands toward the ceiling and stared down at them. He looked confused. "Well, no . . . It's just-" His eyes shot up and he gave Minion a panicked look. "Have I been that obvious?" He gasped. "Do you think she knows too?"

"I- I don't know, sir," Minion replied. He was now very wary of saying the wrong thing, especially about so sensitive an issue. "Would it be a bad thing if she did?"

"Well, no - not bad," Megamind struggled. "But it's just that I never actually told her. Isn't one supposed to declare such things?" He stared at Minion with pleading eyes. "Isn't that how it works? If she already knew, wouldn't that ruin my chance for a romantic declaration at the perfect moment?"

"Sir, you're asking a fish whose only experience with this stuff is from watching daytime television while you were in prison," Minion said. "And even I know that's probably not an accurate gauge for real life."

Megamind nibbled anxiously on his lower lip. "If she already knows, she's probably wondering why I haven't said anything by now." His eyes suddenly widened as a new, horrific idea hit him. "Oh god, what if she does already know, but hasn't said anything herself because she doesn't feel the same?" He looked pleadingly at his longtime friend. "Minion, this is turning into a disaster. What should I do?"

Minion floated feebly in his bowl. "Sir, I'm not sure if I'm the right person to help with this."

Megamind stretched his hands imploringly out in front of him. "What do you mean?" he said, his voice rising in desperation. "You're the only one I have to help me with this! Why do you think I'm telling you about it? If I can't talk about it with you, how am I ever going to bring it up with her?"

"Okay," Minion said calmly. "Take it easy, sir. Let's think about this methodically. You know, like in the good old days - when we used to plan all your best schemes."

Megamind's eyes widened in horror. "But those plans never actually worked!" he cried desperately. He braced his hands upon the car and leaned against them like he would fall over otherwise. "Oh, Minion. I'm doomed," he groaned.

Minion took a deep breath. He needed a clear head before he made another attempt at calming the frantic super-genius. Megamind's tendency to over-think just about everything was one of the pitfalls of his larger-than-average brain. Luckily, dealing with it was an area where Minion had a lifetime of experience, even if today's dilemma was a new one.

"All right, sir," he said. "The first thing you need to do is relax. Okay?" He paused to let that bit of advice sink in before continuing. "Now, you're in love with Ms. Ritchi. That's definitely a big deal, but it's also a good thing, right?"

Megamind nodded fervently. "Yes, right," he agreed, almost under his breath. "A good thing." He glanced up at Minion. "Unless-"

"Uh-uh," Minion interrupted him with a raised finger. He wagged it gently back and forth. Megamind's eyes followed it like a metronome. "One concern at a time, sir. Worry about 'unless' if you come to it."

"Good, yes." Megamind seemed to calm a bit. "Good plan." He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and pressed one fist against his mouth thoughtfully.

"Now," Minion ventured, "you and Ms. Ritchi have spent a lot of time together over the last few months. The person who knows her best is probably you. So maybe you should just ask yourself - without over-analyzing - how do you think she feels about you?"

Megamind sighed. "Honestly? I'm not sure." He leaned back against the front grille of the invisible car, looking a little lost. "I know she likes me - certainly more than she did. She seems to enjoy my company. I just wish there was a way to know for sure if there was a possibility for . . . more."

He perked up a bit. "Do you think if I designed a mind-reading beam that-?"

"Sir," Minion chided gently.

"Yes, you're right." Megamind swept his hand dismissively through the air, as though removing his previous idea from an invisible table.

"You know, Minion," he continued softly after a beat, "back all those months ago when everything was going wrong: when Titan was on the loose and you and I were fighting and Roxanne had discovered I wasn't who I was pretending to be - you can probably imagine how angry she was. She asked me if I really thought she would ever choose to be with me. And I knew. I didn't even have to think about it. In the deepest part of my heart, I knew the answer to that question." He looked at Minion sadly. "No."

Minion stared back at his friend sympathetically.

"And I knew it with such certainty at the time, I suppose it's difficult, even now, to imagine that it ever might have changed." He shrugged. "Because what if it hasn't? She may enjoy being in my presence more now, but that doesn't necessarily mean she feels exactly the way I do. And I'm not sure I could handle learning that she doesn't. Not with how I feel about her."

Minion nodded. "I get it, sir."

"On the other hand, what if I tell her how I feel and her reaction is more like yours? Completely unsurprised."

Minion shook his head (which really consisted of shaking his entire body). "Oh no, sir. I didn't mean it that way-"

"No, I know," Megamind assured him with a half-smile. "But I still can't help thinking: How special could any declaration of my affection be if I'd already made it completely obvious. Even . . ." His shoulders sagged. ". . . predictable."

Minion joined Megamind in leaning against the grille of the car. The front end of the vehicle groaned as it sagged low beneath the weight of his robot suit. "Sir," he said, "I know it's scary, but I think that's all part of how this whole thing works. Normal people probably deal with it all the time."

Megamind cast him a sidelong glance. "You think that's true?"

"Sure," Minion said with a shrug to his robotic shoulders. "I admit I don't know much about this stuff, but I do know one thing . . ." He smiled at his longtime friend and master. "The good guy is usually the one who gets the girl."

Megamind continued to cast a slanting look in Minion's direction. After a moment, a smirk spread across his face. "Oh, I see what you did, there," he said with a nod and a small chuckle. "You really are a fantastic fish, my friend." He nudged Minion with his elbow.

"Weeell," Minion drawled bashfully. "I try." He stepped away from the grille of the invisible car and the vehicle returned to its normal height with a creak. "I'm sure you'll find the right moment, sir. And it'll all work out just fine." He finally picked up another quart of oil from the nearby cart. "I'm going to finish filling the engine."

Megamind nodded. "As am I," he announced as he patted his stomach and picked up the donut he had abandoned earlier.

Minion was emptying his third quart of motor oil, and Megamind finishing his third donut, when the scratchy drone of the buzzer at the public entrance echoed harshly through the lair. Minion looked up from his work; Megamind met his eyes as he wiped at the coating of powdered sugar that dappled his mouth and chin. They both turned to the monitor. On the screen, Owen rocked back and forth on his heels, clutching a duffle bag and, every so often, looking into the camera.

Megamind groaned. "Minion," he said.

"Yes, sir?" Minion replied in the same weary tone.

Megamind turned to him. "When this Beetle-Bomber fiasco is over, I want to begin work on a new stealth generator. A big one." He looked back at Owen's image on the monitors. "We need to hide the lair."

"Will do, sir," Minion concurred. "In the meantime, I could also see about those little 'Do Not Disturb' hangers they put on doorknobs."

"Yes! Brilliant!" Megamind exclaimed. The sound of the buzzer ringing a second time set his teeth on edge. He cringed. "What would be the lesser of two evils, Minion? Letting him in, or listening to him push that button for another half hour?"

Minion shrugged. "We could pretend not to be home again."

Megamind sighed, resigned. "I suppose letting him in could be our good deed for the week." He pressed the button to unlock the exterior door.

"Aren't they all good deeds now that we're heroes, sir?"

"Nobody ever said it would be easy, Minion."

"Hey, Mr. Mind!"

Megamind slapped on a grin as Owen's greeting sounded from above. The young man cheerfully clomped down the staircase toward them. He was wearing an ensemble that looked like a work uniform - a matching brown vest and hat, both embroidered with the label for Basil's Bagels.

"Stopping by for a very, very, very brief visit on your way to work?" Megamind asked optimistically.

"Actually," Owen said conspiratorially, as though he was letting them in on a deep, dark secret, "I'm technically at work now." He grinned triumphantly. "I just faked a big lunch order to deliver so I could come over here instead!"

Megamind's eyes brightened as he saw a way out of the most recent intrusion. "Now, Owen," he said, crossing his arms and laying on the disapproval, "as the hero of Metrocity I cannot condone dishonesty to one's employer. Even if it's always such a pleasure to see you," he added with a toothy grin as a means of mollifying the young man. "One mustn't shirk one's responsibilities, after all."

Owen, on the other hand, exhaled with a dismissive flutter of his lips and swiped his hand through the air. "Don't worry, Mr. Mind," he said. "My boss won't care. I'm always out making deliveries anyway, so I'm really never even there."

"Ah," Megamind said, his enthusiasm fading along with his forced smile. "You deliver bay-gels."

"Yep," Owen confirmed as he rustled through his duffle. "Breakfast sandwiches all morning, then hoagies, salads, and special orders in the afternoon." His eyes widened as he pulled a rolled paper from his bag. "Hey!" he exclaimed. "You should order from there, Mr. Mind! That way I'd have the perfect excuse to stop by all the time! You know, then I wouldn't be shirking my work responsibilities!"

Megamind chuckled weakly and noncommittally. He didn't even like bagels. He didn't like how they were shaped like donuts, but without any of the confectionery sweetness. Besides, the last thing he needed was Owen stopping by all the time. The young man already did that. Megamind was starting to think Metro Man was on to something when he decided to fake his own demise.

"Anyway," Owen continued as he began to unroll the paper he'd drawn from his bag, "I made a few adjustments to the blueprints I showed you the other day. I just thought, since my boss thinks I'm doing a big round of office lunch orders and I'm not expected back for a while, we might have time to look at them."

Megamind stopped him from unrolling the paper all the way. "Actually, Owen," he said, "Minion and I are very busy this afternoon."

"We're in the middle of some maintenance on the car," Minion added.

"And then there's the case we're working!" Megamind interjected. "Very time-consuming."

Owen peeked around him at the idea wall. "Oh," he said. "Is that about the explosions?"

Megamind spun around and saw that the wall's curtain hadn't been drawn. He glanced back to Owen with a nervous chuckle and began backing away. "Er, yes . . ." He made a break for it, grabbed a handful of curtain and, with a running start, hauled it closed. "Of course, all that is classified at the moment. You understand."

"Yeah, sure," Owen said. He looked disappointed, though. He shoved his hands into the oversized pockets of his cargo pants, fumbling around inside them as he shuffled his feet.

Megamind and Minion stood on opposite sides of the young man, staring at him expectantly. An awkward silence fell upon the lair. Finally, Minion broke it.

"So, maybe it's time we all got back to our own jobs?" he prompted. He punctuated his statement with an overly-large, toothy smile.

The young man looked dejected again. "Yeah, I guess," he agreed gloomily. "Man, I wish there was something I could do to help you guys here. That would beat delivering sandwiches all day."

Megamind shot Minion a desperate look, but concealed it quickly when Owen turned in his direction. Minion offered Megamind a helpless gesture in response over the young man's shoulder.

"Um," Megamind floundered. "Since we really can't discuss the case, I'm afraid we only have boring jobs around the lair, Owen. Minion, for instance, is putting motor oil in the invisible car."

"I could help with that!" Owen suddenly exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" Minion asked reproachfully.

Owen turned to him with a brighter smile. "Yeah, that's easy!"

Megamind shrugged back at Minion over Owen's shoulder and, pointing a finger at him, mouthed the words: It's . . . your . . . turn!

Minion scowled. "I'll keep that in mind for next time," he said pointedly. (Megamind wasn't sure if that statement was directed at Owen, or at him.) "I'm pretty much finished here," Minion added as he unceremoniously dumped the last two jugs of motor oil into the funnel at the same time.

Megamind was about to make another attempt at convincing Owen to be on his way when he was interrupted by a loud warning klaxon resounding through the lair. He spun around. The control panel of the monitor was flashing alarmingly.

"Sir!" Minion exclaimed, but Megamind was already rushing over to the monitor. Minion followed closely behind.

"Where is it?" Minion said. He pulled out the remote he used to assemble the brainbots.

"Downtown," Megamind replied, punching the controls. The GPS built into the satellite death ray isolated a location. "Here, Minion."

Minion stared at the city map on the screen. "City Hall, sir," he gasped.

"Let's go," Megamind ordered. He pushed away from the control panel and began running for the side room where they kept the equipment being catalogued in the database. He returned with several items, including the Gravi-Negator - the grappling hook Roxanne had helped test several days ago. "Send the brainbots ahead of us, Minion, and mobilize the blimp," he said as he emerged.

"Already done, sir," Minion replied, thumbing a few buttons on his remote. "I've had the pumps refilled with water since yesterday." He fell into step with Megamind who nodded his approval. They both headed for the car. Minion slammed the hood closed and froze.

Megamind deposited his equipment in the back seat and glared at him. "Let's go, Minion!" he said. "We're wasting time!"

"Just a slight problem, sir," Minion replied, pointing. They both turned their gazes back to the center of the room.

Owen was still standing there.

Megamind motioned to the young man. "Owen, I'm sorry, but we need to go," he said.

"Oh, right. Yeah." Owen ran over to them, flustered. "Do you need help?" he asked.

Megamind nearly growled at him in frustration. "No, Owen, we don't need help," he said curtly. "But we do need to go! Immediately!"

"O-oh, okay," the young man nodded nervously. "Should I just wait here then?"

Megamind rolled his eyes, reining in the desperation that was building as they stood there wasting time. Abruptly, he shot his arm out and grabbed Owen by the collar. He yanked him forward, shoved him behind the passenger seat and into the rear of the car. "Just stay put!" he ordered.

Minion's eyes went as wide as saucers. "We're bringing him with us?" he exclaimed. "Sir, I do not think that's a good-"

"And your alternative suggestion would be, what?" Megamind countered. "We can't just leave him in the lair, and I'm not about to stand here arguing with him. Or you!" he added tersely.

Minion recoiled a bit.

"Just let him out downtown and send him back to work," Megamind said as he got into the car. "Let's move."

Minion backed the car up to turn it around, then gunned the engine. As they sped out of the lair, Megamind glanced at Owen in the rearview mirror, hoping they were going fast enough that the young man wouldn't guess which outer wall they had just emerged from. The last thing he and Minion needed was Owen finding the secret entrance.

Minion flipped a switch and a control panel in the console opened. He pressed the button to operate the car's stealth mode. They raced along the roads, weaving in and out of other cars as they headed downtown.

"Whoa," Owen breathed from the back seat. He leaned forward to peek his head between Megamind and Minion. "So are we invisible right now?"

"Yes, we're invisible right now," Minion droned. He tried to avoid gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his robot hands bent it.

Owen waved his hand in front of his own face, captivated. Megamind rolled his eyes. Was he going to have to explain that they were only invisible to those outside the car?

Instead, Owen piped up again. "Why are we invisible?"

"What do you mean, 'why are we invisible '?" Megamind asked. "It's an invisible car."

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be better to be invisible when you're hiding from somebody?" Owen asked with a shrug. "Why be invisible now?"

Minion also shot him a glare through the rearview mirror. "I would think it's less distracting to the other drivers when I'm weaving in and out like this," he said. "We do need to get there fast."

"Speaking of which," Megamind interjected. "Minion?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Please step on it."

"Yes, sir."

The blaring horns of fire trucks rang shrilly through the city, and a pillar of black smoke could be seen from blocks away. As they neared the scene, Megamind got his first glimpse of City Hall through the other buildings.

"Oh, Minion," he breathed. "Oh, no."

The structure was ablaze. Smoke poured into the sky and claws of flame reached from the windows on one whole side of the building. It must have spread very fast. The building wasn't made of stone and concrete like Metro Tower. All that old wood, the worn carpeting, and the antique velvet furniture in the lounges had turned City Hall into a virtual tinderbox.

Minion didn't respond, but Owen did. He stared out the window, mouth agape. "Holy smoke!" he gasped.

Minion turned off the car's stealth generator as they approached so their sudden appearance wouldn't startle the emergency workers. They pulled to a stop just across the street, behind an ambulance parked near the reflecting pool.

"Get the blimp in position," Megamind said to Minion as they both climbed out of the car. "And get the brainbots in there to start looking for people." He reached into the back seat, examined the equipment he'd brought, and ultimately wrapped his fingers around the grappling hook. His eyes met Owen's. "You need to leave," he said sternly. His blunt tone must have surprised the young man, whose eyes widened.

"I could just stay in here," Owen offered.

Megamind's glare hardened and Owen nodded his head as he began to clamber anxiously out of the car. "Okay, okay . . . Yeah, I'll go."

Satisfied, Megamind pulled the grappling hook free and ran to the other side of the street.

Owen backed away slowly. As he went, he pulled his phone out of the pocket of his cargo pants, held it up, and took a picture of the inferno City Hall had become. Minion cast him a glare.

"You'd better get behind the barrier," he said as he maneuvered the blimp above the building with his remote. "It's not safe to be this close."

Owen nodded. He continued to back along the length of the reflecting pool, moving toward the barriers where the horrified crowds stood. "I've gotta send this to my D&D buddies at the comic shop," he muttered as he went, thumbing the buttons on the front of the phone. "They'll never believe I was here with you!"

Minion set his jaw and turned away from the young man. Owen was someone else's problem now. When the blimp was positioned above the burning section of City Hall and the water had begun pumping through the spouts, Minion hurried to join his master across the street.

Megamind made his way over to where a fireman was pulling a coughing security guard down the front steps of the building. Megamind met them at the bottom. "Do we know how many people are still inside?" he asked without preamble, looking back and forth between both men.

The middle-aged guard looked at him through watery, blood-shot eyes. He coughed a few more times. "Don't know," he answered with a desperate shake of his head. "Lunch hour had just started; people were coming and going. There's no telling how many are still in there."

The firefighter led the guard to safety as Megamind backed up a few steps and evaluated the building. A moment later Minion came to stand beside him. The fire was heaviest on the right-hand side, which is probably where it had started, but it was spreading fast. There were several fire trucks with boom lifts attempting to evacuate people from the upper floors, but the flames were too heavy for them to get very close. Every so often, a brainbot could be seen carrying someone across the gap into the waiting arms of a fireman in one of the suspended buckets.

"Shall I get the rocket-cycle here, sir?" Minion offered, holding up the remote.

"No," Megamind replied. "With the flames this heavy, I wouldn't be able to get it any closer than those fire trucks." He reached up and unclasped his cape, shrugging it off his shoulders. He handed it to Minion as he hefted the grappling hook in his hands. "The overhang above the balcony still looks stable enough," he said. "I should be able to get a solid grip on it with this."

Minion nodded apprehensively. His lips set into a grim line, but he accepted the cape from his master without an argument. "Taking off the cape this time is probably a good idea," he said, trying for a casual tone. "You don't want it getting singed."

"Well, yes," Megamind agreed. "And also, if I come down from there on fire, I'm going to need you to snuff it out with that!"

Minion chuckled humorlessly. "Good luck, sir," he said.

Megamind wrapped the curve of the grappling hook around his back, aimed for the eave between the center two pillars, and pulled the trigger. He swept upward, breaking through what felt like a sudden wall of intense heat as he neared the building. When he came to a stop, he looked up. He blinked his eyes as the acrid smoke stung them. The words CITY HALL danced through little rippling heat waves in front of him.

Megamind carefully pumped the release button and descended until his boots touched the top-most balcony. He braced his feet against the railing and drew the dehydration gun from its holster on his thigh. He let go of the grappling hook with his other hand and leaned back against the harness like a rock climber. He rotated the dial on his weapon until it was set to 'destroy,' took aim at the glass window in front of him and fired.

As the window shattered, Megamind swung onto the surface of the balcony. He unwound the Gravi-Negator from his back and hooked the loop of it onto the railing to keep it in place. Then he plunged into the room beyond.

The instant he stepped inside the Mayor's office, he felt heat press in on him from all angles. Thick smoke hung in the air like a heavy poison veil. Megamind could see the open double doors across from the window, which he knew led to a long hallway, but he couldn't see anything beyond that point. Tongues of flame stretched out from a few surfaces throughout the room, and an ominous red glow burned behind the dome of the ceiling. The room wasn't enveloped yet, but it was coming.

Megamind fired his weapon at the large mahogany desk in front of him; there was no saving it, and it was only in the way. It flipped onto its side when the blast hit it and skidded across the floor to slam into the wall. He felt a mild pang at the sound of crunching wood. He had liked that desk. Megamind holstered his gun and coughed into his arm as he stepped cautiously into the middle of the room.

"Hel-LO?" he called out. "Anyone in here?"

After a moment, he considered the office cleared. Megamind started to make his way toward the thick wall of smoke beyond the door. He could hear shouts of firefighters as well as the occasional twang of a brainbot outside in the hallway. He had nearly made it to the double doors when he heard something else.

"Help me," a small voice whimpered. "Please, help me."

Megamind stopped abruptly and turned. The sound had come from the office bathroom just to Megamind's right. He squinted through the swelling smoke and was finally able to see a hunched figure huddling low, close to the bathroom floor. He could make out what looked like a large blue and white hump before anything else, but as the figure moved the shape of a body became more apparent. The figure lifted his head and Megamind locked gazes with the petrified eyes of Metro City's Mayor.

It only took an extra second or two for Megamind to realize who it was. The Mayor seemed to have draped several hand towels over his head and shoulders. He was also holding one to his mouth. When he lowered it for a moment, Megamind recognized his face.

The Mayor froze when he saw Megamind as well. He looked beyond terrified - and probably not just because of the fire. Megamind imagined that if Metro Man had swept through the office window, the Mayor would have likely hopped into the superhero's waiting arms like a comic book damsel. True, the man had acknowledged Megamind as the new Defender of Metro City, but completely trusting the former villain when it really mattered was another issue.

Instantly, Megamind abandoned his route toward the hallway. He turned to the bathroom instead. The smoke stung his eyes and he coughed again into the crook of his arm before he was able to gather enough air to speak.

"Don't worry, Mr. Mayor," he rasped, trying to sound heroic. "Everything's all right." He took a step toward the bathroom door. "Come on out and I'll get you to-"

A sharp crack resounded from overhead. The next thing Megamind knew, he was flat on his stomach on the floor of the office. He had hit the ground hard and abruptly. His brain reeled for a moment; he couldn't quite figure out how he'd gotten there. Something very heavy was pinning him down. Heavy and . . .

"Hot!" he suddenly yelped. "Hot, hot, HOT!"

Megamind kicked his legs and flailed his arms, desperately trying to struggle out from underneath whatever had landed on him. The oppressive heat in the room suddenly intensified and his shoulder felt as though it was melting. Megamind scrambled desperately. He managed to get one arm underneath him for leverage, then he shoved the other gloved hand up and pushed. The weight transferred off his shoulder and Megamind flopped quickly to one side before letting the heavy thing crash back to the floor.

Megamind blinked at it - a large, wooden beam that had broken through the ceiling. It was aflame, and the heat coming off it was intense. Megamind rolled farther away from it before looking up. Fire was now visible through the hole where the missing chunk of ceiling had been. It was beginning to spread through the entire area above his head.

Megamind struggled to get his legs under him and looked again toward the bathroom. The Mayor had cowered farther back beyond the doorway - clearly trembling, obviously panicked. There was no getting him out here now. Megamind would have to go in after him.

Megamind reached for his shoulder as he stood. His fingers discovered ragged edges where his spandex bodysuit had burned away and he growled in pain as he touched his own flesh. He could only imagine what the skin on his shoulder must look like. Sparing a cautions glance toward the ceiling to avoid any more collapsing debris, Megamind made a dash for the bathroom door.

He slid through and stopped in front of the huddling Mayor. "Um," he said. He cleared his throat. "Mr. Mayor, sir?"

Now that he had arrived, Megamind wasn't quite sure what to do or say to get the man to come with him. Again, the thought of Metro Man sweeping the Mayor into his arms and flying to safety sprang to mind, but that option wasn't exactly viable. Megamind squatted down and poked a finger into the Mayor's towel-clad body. The movement sent of sting of pain through his shoulder. Megamind grunted and flinched. But the Mayor finally looked at him again.

"You-you're supposed to stay low," the man mumbled. Clearly, he was hysterical. "Stay low. Stay out of the smoke. Someone will come." He held a towel up to cover his mouth.

The Mayor's face was soaked. At first Megamind thought it was sweat dripping from every pore. Then he saw it was water from the towel on his head. Apparently, the Mayor had saturated several of them and draped them all over himself when he'd taken refuge in the bathroom - as though dousing himself with water would keep the flames away for long.

"Someone will come," the Mayor muttered again.

"Er, yes," Megamind agreed. "And someone is here." He gestured toward himself.

The Mayor blinked at him.

"Look," Megamind said. "I'm not sure how Metro Man always did this, but I'm here to rescue you." He made a motion toward the smashed window. It was obscured through the smoke, but the light coming from the outside was clearly visible. "You only have to make it as far as the window. Think you can manage that?"

The Mayor looked at him, then at the window, then at the fire spreading over the entire ceiling of his office. He shook his head no meekly.

Megamind nodded. "I'll take that as a 'yes'," he muttered. "Come on."

Megamind took the Mayor's arm and looped it over his shoulders as he tugged the man to his feet. He winced painfully as the Mayor's hand tightly gripped the spot where he had been burned, but he tried not to show it. Megamind was grateful that the Mayor was at least pliant enough to allow himself to be led. This would have been a lot more difficult if the man was resisting rescue by panicking too hard.

They emerged from the bathroom door and Megamind guardedly checked the ceiling again. The fire had spread to cover it, bearing down oppressively on them both. Megamind felt as though his brain was boiling. "Minion!" he said into his watch. "I'm coming out with one. We may need a hand. Are you ready?"

Megamind heard a syllable or two of Minion's voice in reply, sandwiched by static.

"I'll take that as a 'yes,' too," he grumbled as he heaved the Mayor quickly across the room.

It wasn't until they reached the window that the Mayor began to resist him. "Oh no, no," he said. "I can't go out this way. We should wait. Someone will come. A fireman."

Megamind tried not to lose his patience. Metro Man wouldn't lose his patience. But he couldn't stand here debating things with the man either. The building would come down around their ears if they stood here too long.

Then again, some devious part of Megamind's brain pointed out, at least he'd be down that way.

Megamind shook the thought away, amusing as it was. He grabbed the Gravi-Negator from where it was still hooked onto the railing. "Mr. Mayor," he said, as reassuringly as he could manage, "this will get you to the ground even faster than waiting for a fireman." A sudden burst of inspiration prompted him to add, "I designed it to mimic Metro Man's strength. You'll be perfectly safe the whole way down."

The Mayor seemed to respond to that. Megamind grinned. When in doubt, evoke the former superhero. And as the Mayor nodded, Megamind quickly set to wrapping the harness around the portly man's back. It was slightly snug, but if it fit Minion's suit it would certainly handle the Mayor. If anything, the tighter fit might give the sense of a bit more security to the wearer.

Megamind had him sit on the balcony railing. Naturally, the Mayor began to get nervous again. "I-I'm not sure about this," he stammered. "Do I have to do this myself? Can't you come with me?"

"It has the strength to hold us both, but there's only room for one in the harness," Megamind said. "But not to worry, sir." He attempted to keep his voice pleasant and reassuring. "When you push away from the balcony, you'll simply hang there. Then, when you're ready, pump your thumb slowly against the button. Press to descend, release to stop. You'll be safe and sound in no time."

The Mayor nodded nervously back at him and stared over the edge.

Megamind turned briefly and whispered into his watch, hoping his friend below could hear, "Minion, I'm sending the Mayor down ahead of me. Code: Have the brainbots ready to play catch . . . just in case."

He turned back to see the other man, ever so cautiously, scooching toward the edge of the railing. The Mayor clung there for what felt (to Megamind) like a timeless moment, then - finally - pushed away from the balcony.

As he dangled in midair, the Mayor gave Megamind another unsure look. Megamind grinned broadly at him and gave him a thumbs-up. Then he made a twitching motion with one thumb, demonstrating the pushing of a button. The Mayor mimicked it, and began to descend in bouncing, jerky stages.

Megamind watched him go down, chewing on his bottom lip the entire time. When the man reached the bottom, Minion intercepted him and removed the harness. Megamind finally breathed a sigh of relief as he saw the Mayor waddle away, in the care of some emergency workers. He was about to plan the best strategy for his own descent when an explosive crack echoed behind him. Megamind ducked reflexively at the noise, then spun around.

The ceiling was coming down.

Flaming chunks of wooden beams plummeted into the office as the entire area behind Megamind caved in - becoming a cataract of debris, smoke, and fire. With no time left to ponder the best course of action, Megamind leapt onto the balcony railing. His arms pinwheeled for a moment as he fought for balance, then he made a mad lunge for the cable that still connected the harness of the Gravi-Negator to the hook in the eave above. Dust, plaster, smoke, and flame belched out of the window behind Megamind and the force of the blow caused the entire cord to sway dangerously. Megamind dangled in midair, fighting for purchase on the smooth surface of the cable. He curled up into a tight ball as he clung to it.

When the cable stopped swaying, Megamind opened his eyes. He had no sooner raised his head when he felt a sudden jolt. He looked up and saw that the overhang to which the grappling hook was affixed was beginning to crumble. Megamind probably shouldn't have been surprised; the entire interior of the office had collapsed, now the skeletal remains of the outside were doing the same.

Another jolt forced him to move. The hook could give way at any moment, and he was nearly a hundred feet up. Megamind wrapped one elbow around the cable and began to slide down the length like a wavy fireman's pole.

He hadn't gone far when the cord suddenly slackened. Megamind's eyes shot up for one horrible split-second as he realized the eave had crumbled away from the building; the grappling hook was no longer connected to anything.

An instant later, he was in freefall.

He yelped instinctively as he fell. It turned quickly into a yowl of pain as one of the brainbots he had instructed Minion to position nearby "just in case" grabbed his arm to slow his descent. Naturally, it was the arm connected to his injured shoulder. He hit the top step hard, but less forcefully than he would have without the little brainbot's help.

It bowged at him as he raised his body off the pavement and propped himself up on his elbow.

"Yes," he breathed heavily. "Daddy's very proud."

Another sudden crack from above caused Megamind to look up. Pieces of the building's façade were crumbling down toward him. With an alarmed cry, Megamind scrambled to get out of their path. For a second his feet scuttled beneath him like he was trying to get a running start on ice, the next moment the ground was abruptly gone. He felt himself being lifted by the collar as the chunks of masonry crashed to the stairs behind him. Megamind was placed on his feet at the base of the steps as Minion released him and fully retracted the mechanical arm of his suit.

Megamind gasped in relief. "Have I mentioned what a phenomenal fish you are yet, Minion?" he panted. "Because you are!"

"Sir, your shoulder!" Minion replied in dismay.

Megamind rolled his shoulder back and cringed. He reached for it, but his fingers hovered an inch above the scorched skin. He was hesitant to touch it. "Yes, not my most graceful rescue," he said.

He might have said more, but his other hand was abruptly assaulted by a crushing grip.

"Megamind, thank you! Thank you!" The Mayor wrenched his hand up and down repeatedly. The little man now had a large wool blanket draped over his shoulders and an oxygen mask pulled down past his chin. He was flanked by two EMTs who were attempting to steer him back toward a waiting ambulance.

Megamind was a little thunderstruck. He still wasn't good at processing such profuse gratitude. Although his shoulder ached, and every movement caused him to wince, Megamind didn't pull away as the other man jerked thankfully on his hand. He muttered a distracted, "Uh, of course, Mr. Mayor. No trouble."

What the response lacked in presentation it made up for in sincerity.

The Mayor continued to pump Megamind's arm up and down with a beaming look of gratefulness on his soot-streaked face until the EMTs managed to pry him away and guide him back toward the ambulance. Megamind straightened and turned back to Minion.

"Have the brainbots helped to retrieve many others?" he asked.

"We've pulled quite a few people out," Minion said. "But, sir . . ." He hesitated.

Megamind felt a twist in his gut at the expression on Minion's face. "But?" he prompted apprehensively.

Minion looked grimly back at him. "Sir, we have a problem."

It had taken Roxanne an eternity to get close to City Hall. Doing so was enough of a challenge on a good day. Only one main road ran along the front of the building. The majority of the area was a pedestrian plaza, leading up the reflecting pool all the way to the museum. It was beautiful, but a hindrance for traffic.

When KMCP got the call about the explosion, Roxanne knew getting there would be bedlam. As expected, the main roads and intersections were designated for emergency vehicles only. The secondary roads nearby were no better. So the press was relegated to a spot a few blocks away. Roxanne did her report from there, then left the cameramen to record more footage for later broadcasts while she attempted to get closer on foot.

The crowds were so thick, there were a few times when Roxanne thought she might have to crawl under people's legs to get closer.

When she finally reached the front, the sight left her horror-stricken.

City Hall was a hollow shell. The once-beautiful building, constructed over a century and a half ago, had been reduced to a blackened, smoldering carcass. The dome of the rotunda had collapsed, the elegant windows shattered, and the only walls left formed a skeletal mockery of the ornate building it had once been. A few fire trucks were still pumping water through their turret pipes onto the intermittent columns of smoke left emanating from the ruins, but the building was completely lost.

Roxanne's heart twisted in her chest - not just because she loved this city and ached to see one of its most prominent symbols reduced to ashes, but because she knew Megamind wouldn't take the loss well. She craned her neck and searched the area for him.

A few minutes later, she really began to worry. Megamind was nowhere in sight.

When Minion's voice finally rang in her ears, it was the most welcome sound she'd heard in some time.

"Ms. Ritchi," he said as he approached. With relief, she leaned forward against the barrier to greet him.

"Minion," she replied. Her voice cracked a bit as she looked past him toward the remains of City Hall. "I'm so sorry, I couldn't get through. This is just horrible." She shook her head and looked up at him, sadness in her eyes. "Where is he?"

Minion looked at her soberly and hesitated. Roxanne felt as though the bottom had dropped out of her stomach. "Minion?"

"He's not here, Ms. Ritchi."

His words sent a chill crawling over Roxanne's skin. "What do you mean he's not here?"

Minion shook his head. "Someone needed to go to the other site," he replied.

Roxanne looked confused as she regarded him. "The other site?"

It didn't take long before Roxanne no longer needed Minion to give her directions. Once they'd crossed town and dipped beneath the highway, she had a strong hunch about where they were headed. When they left City Hall and made their way back toward the news vans, it didn't take nearly as long to get through the crowd. Roxanne mused that it was probably an advantage to have a sentient fish in a several-hundred pound robot ape suit walking at her side - it helped to clear the way.

Since Megamind had taken the invisible car with him when he left, Minion climbed into the back of Roxanne's vehicle and they set out. There was a brief bulletin about the second bombing on the scanner in the van. Most people hadn't learned of it yet because everyone was still glued to City Hall, but once they did . . .

News that whomever set the bomb at City Hall had detonated another at almost the same time across town was beyond alarming. Roxanne clenched the steering wheel tightly. It was no wonder Megamind had raced off so quickly. With so many emergency crews tending to City Hall, resources would be severely diminished at the scene of the second incident. That fact alone had Roxanne concerned for him. Minion clearly was, too.

Roxanne neared the scene - in a neighborhood she hadn't been to in a while, but one with which she was fairly familiar. Halfway up the block, in front of one graffitied high-rise apartment, she saw a small gathering of fire trucks, ambulances, and what few police cruisers could probably be spared from City Hall. A cloud of smoke billowed out of one of the middle floors.

On the curb in front of the building sat a lone blue figure.

Roxanne nearly felt her heart stop.

He was sitting upright, but his body was slumped. His knees were drawn up at an awkward-looking angle, due to his long legs and the small distance between the curb and the street. His arms rested limply on his kneecaps. His body looked exhausted, but that wasn't what had Roxanne so suddenly alarmed. It was the expression on his face.

It looked . . . haunted.

Roxanne pulled the van to a hurried stop behind some police tape. She popped open her seatbelt and threw herself out of the vehicle door, not bothering to close it behind her. She ducked under the yellow strip and ran to where Megamind sat. She was distantly aware of Minion following her.

She slowed as she neared him, hesitating when he did not look at her. His face and clothes were covered in patches of soot and ash. One shoulder of his suit was torn and charred along the edges. Roxanne winced at the rather angry-looking burn that it exposed. In the long fingers of one hand he held two small cards, both bearing the flaming beetle image that had become all too familiar by now - one for City Hall most likely, and one for here.

Roxanne took another cautious step toward him. "Megamind?"

His jaw clenched, but he still didn't look up.

Roxanne's feet quickly carried her the rest of the way and she dropped to her knees in front of him. "Was anyone hurt?" she asked, not sure if she wanted to know the answer. When he didn't reply, she tried again, "Are you hurt?" She placed her hands on either side of his face and guided his eyes to hers. "Megamind?"

He blinked at her and swallowed. Roxanne could see in his face that he had been aware of her presence the entire time, but as he struggled to form words it was clear that he simply hadn't known how to respond to her. His eyes, always so expressive, communicated just how lost he felt.

"I know the connection," he finally said. He punctuated his statement with a sardonic, humorless chuckle as he lifted the two cards in his fingers and shook his head at them. "So simple," he added. "So stupid."

Roxanne set her lips into a grim line as she looked at Megamind. Once she had realized where she was driving on the way over, she had gotten an awful sinking feeling as well. "Whoever's been doing this targeted this building?" she said. It wasn't really question. It was more like an attempt at clarification.

Megamind shook his head. "Not so much the building as one apartment," he replied. He looked up to where the embers of the now-extinguished fire continued to smoke from a hole blown out of the front of the high-rise. Another hole just like it had been repaired not too long ago. In almost the same place.

Roxanne knew that apartment.

It had been Hal's.

"You were wrong, Roxanne," Megamind said to her. She looked back into his pained green eyes. "There was no brilliant detail for me to find to crack this case. If anything, I wasn't even looking in the right place." He glanced back down at the cards in his hand, gripping them until they bent. "Metro Tower, City Hall, the restaurant, and now this apartment . . . They all have one thing in common . . ."

Roxanne's heart lurched. She hadn't seen him look so defeated in a long time.

He looked at her again. "Me."

To be continued . . .

Chapter 6: Times Six

Chapter Text

Minion was more than accustomed to Megamind's temperament after so many years. He had even mentally categorized most of it. In fact, if one were to take a peek inside the fish's brain, the segment dedicated to Megamind would probably resemble the lair's idea wall - an elaborate mapping of his friend's moods (from Manic to Mel-ON-choly), as well as a variety of strategies for handling each one (from Applaud to Pep-Talk to Power-Down-For-A-While).

Since the boss had become the city's hero, things hadn't changed much. Not everything, at least. Granted, Minion had detected a noticeable increase in job satisfaction. He figured a taste of success would do that for one's career. But the new responsibilities hadn't really changed him; he was still the same Megamind - the same hyper, driven, egocentric, awkward, brilliant, best-friend-a-fish-could-have, super-genius that he had always been.

Which was why Minion was so concerned right now.

Ever since the simultaneous bombings at both City Hall and Hal Stewart's apartment, Megamind had introduced a kind of slow, simmering anger into his personality. The seriousness and stagnancy seemed very unnatural for someone whose emotions and antics normally turned on a dime.

Minion, therefore, wanted to do everything in his power to help his best friend return to normal.

So he was thorough in his duties. Very, very thorough.

"I've finished the sweep, sir," he said as he returned to the monitor room with several brainbots in tow. "No explosives detected in the lair. At least . . ." he added after a beat, ". . . none that don't already belong to us."

Megamind nodded in acknowledgement. He was staring at the city map on the main screens. Four bright red dots stood out starkly against the monochrome grid of Metro City. "And Roxanne's?" he asked.

"Checked it twice, sir," Minion responded. "Not just her apartment, but the entire building. It's still clean. The news station is too."

Megamind nodded again with a terse "Thank you."

There was genuine gratitude in Megamind's voice, but his clipped tone still made Minion uncomfortable. He didn't like how his friend's speech had been reduced to the bare necessities. It seemed so foreign in someone who normally bounced from subject to subject - his stream of consciousness pouring out of his mouth as quickly as thoughts entered his head.

Minion steeled himself for whatever reaction his next words might trigger. "Sir," he said, "what this person is doing . . . I know it looks bad. But please don't convince yourself it's your fault."

Megamind finally looked at him. He didn't appear angry, as Minion had expected. (Perhaps, even, as Minion had hoped. It was difficult seeing his friend this lost. A sudden change in mood - even if it was anger - would have been much more familiar territory.)

"Have I made a terrible mistake, Minion?" Megamind finally asked. He leaned against the control panel in front of the monitor, but continued looking back at his friend.

"A mistake, sir?" Now that Megamind was finally speaking in full sentences, Minion wasn't sure he liked where the conversation was going.

"Was I too cava-leer when I became Metrocity's new hero?" Megamind finally turned all the way around and leaned back on the control panel. He hugged his arms against his body. "Perhaps I neglected to treat the responsibility with the respect it deserved."

"Sir," Minion insisted, "you can't blame-"

"It's not that," Megamind countered. "Whatever this Beetle-Bomber's motives might be, his choices - his wrongdoings - are his own. Just as mine were when I was a villain. I don't blame myself for what he chooses to do, Minion, but . . ." Megamind raised his eyes to Minion's. "Did I make it easier for him?"

"I don't understand, sir."

"He's targeting places that have been linked to me somehow," Megamind said, turning back to face the monitors as Minion joined him there. He pointed at each of the red dots in turn. "I moved into City Hall when I took over the city, I faced Titan at Metro Tower, the restaurant . . ." He paused. ". . . Not quite as obvious, but a lot of people did see the holo-watch fail that night. Word spreads quickly, I'm sure. As for Hal Stewart's apartment - once he was revealed to be Titan, it wouldn't be difficult to figure out the connection there. All these places are fairly common knowledge and if someone wanted to make a statement by throwing my misdeeds back at me that would be one thing. I would deal with it. But . . ."

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before continuing. He withdrew his pointing finger and closed his hand into a tight fist. "I revealed the location of our lair," he said quietly. "I actually invited people into our home because I thought I should - for public relations. And Roxanne . . ." He faltered. "My relationship with her isn't exactly a secret. She's by my side for many of my public appearances. We even danced like idiots in front of the entire city at the museum dedication. Was I taunting this person by doing that? Challenging him? Is this what being a hero is, Minion?" Megamind looked up at his friend. There was desperation shining in his green eyes. "Do I now have to worry that those I've come to care about will be targeted because I was too careless and arrogant to know my boundaries?"

Minion was at a loss. He glanced down toward the feet of his cybernetic body. He didn't like seeing Megamind like this, but he wasn't sure how to respond in a way that would make it better.

It turned out he didn't have to.

"I'm going to stop him, Minion."

The fish looked up again and blinked. He felt an unconscious prick of a smile tug at a corner of his mouth. "Sir?"

Megamind's expression had hardened, but there was fire in it. Minion could see that. It wasn't the manic, frenzied sense of purpose he had often displayed as a super villain, but a fierce, ardent determination instead. It was different, but it was still him. Minion fought to keep his small grin from spreading too far across his face. The boss was still serious, after all.

"I can't change any rash choices I may have made when I first became the Defender of Metrocity," Megamind said. "What's done is done. But I can make certain this Beetle-Bomber does not succeed again. And I intend to."

"Yes, sir!" Minion chimed in, enthusiastically supportive.

Megamind crooked a finger against his chin as he scrutinized the map. "I just need to figure out what he's basing his target choices on," he said. "If he's looking to cause chaos and public panic, or if his goal is to attack me, personally."

"Metro Tower and City Hall were pretty heavily populated," Minion offered.

"True," Megamind agreed. "But his first target was the restaurant, after-hours. And Hal Stewart's apartment didn't currently have anyone living in it. The two large targets may have been to hold my attention, while the other two were meant to send a more specific message."

"Like what?" Minion asked.

"That's what I need to figure out," Megamind replied. "Before he strikes again." He leaned his chin against his fist. Minion could practically see the gears turning in his boss's head.

"If his goal is city-wide panic, he'll probably choose something very public," Minion said. "Like the museum, or any of the prominent places where you battled Metro Man."

"And if it's more personal," Megamind added, "he'll eventually target Roxanne or our not-so-secret Evil Lair."

"I left several brainbots stationed at Ms. Ritchi's apartment building, sir," Minion assured him. "They'll be sweeping it at regular intervals."

Megamind smiled faintly. "I knew you'd have that covered," he said.

He glanced at the idea wall and Minion's eyes followed. The beetle cards hung from the ceiling like a miniature swarm. "We're going to stop him, Minion," Megamind repeated with determination. He smirked humorlessly, but resolutely. "We're the protectors of Metrocity now, and protecting it is exactly what I intend to do."

Minion smiled proudly. "So we show him what we heroes are made of, sir?" he asked with an encouraging nudge.

The smirk suddenly slipped from Megamind's face. He froze for a moment and his eyes widened. Then he grinned again. This time there was a spark in his smile - the first sign of the old Megamind Minion had seen since the most recent bombings.

"Minion," he breathed finally as he looked up at his friend. "You positively brilliant Pisces, you. That's it !"

Roxanne stepped off the escalator and glanced around. Now that she was here, she wasn't completely certain what she was looking for. However, she hadn't wanted to wait around doing nothing. She was a nosy reporter, after all - or so it had been pointed out to her on numerous occasions. Investigating things was part of her job. Even Megamind often praised her intelligence and deductive skills. And while a boyfriend's compliments were one thing, those two qualities were certainly big reasons Roxanne had done so well in her career. Like Megamind, she didn't like to hide from a challenge.

Of course, Megamind probably wouldn't have liked it if he knew where her powers of deduction had led her this afternoon. Which was exactly why she hadn't told him of her plan to come here.

It seemed rather obvious, though, she thought as she strolled down the well-lit hallway of the newly re-dedicated Hall of Heroes Museum. If the Beetle-Bomber was targeting places that were connected with Megamind, it made perfect sense that his focus would eventually turn here - a building practically dedicated to the guy. Or, at least, this half of it was - which was why Roxanne wasn't walking around the Metro Man Memorial Wing right now.

This was only her second time inside the museum since the grand re-opening. The first time had been during the reception following the dedication. That day the building had been packed, and she had missed seeing a lot of the details. But now that several weeks had passed, it looked as though the visiting crowds had diminished to a more normal level, and Roxanne was able to get a much better look at what the museum had to offer. It was pretty impressive, really. There was a "please-touch" theme to the science exhibits in this wing, which allowed guests to build models, conduct experiments, or interact with the displays. It had become a particularly popular destination for school field trips.

Though the museum wasn't as crowded today as it had been weeks ago, there was still a fair number of people walking around - not a bad attendance for a weekday afternoon. On this floor alone Roxanne could see several groups of school children of varying ages being escorted through the interactive displays by teachers, museum guides, or - in the case of the older teenagers - via the self-guided audio tour.

The idea that this Beetle-Bomber might potentially target a place that was visited by so many kids every day made Roxanne indescribably angry. She became more determined than ever to help Megamind put a stop to this. She felt reaffirmed in her decision to come here, even though Megamind probably would have warned her against it.

Roxanne sauntered slowly down the hallway, taking in her surroundings. Whatever clue she was hoping to find here, she also hoped she'd know it when she saw it. Otherwise her outing was less of an investigation, per se, and more like simply spending an afternoon at the museum.

Not that that was all bad.

She paused as she walked past the Build-A-Brainbot exhibit. She grinned at the thought of trying it, and wondered what Megamind would think of her own personal creation. She began to move away before the idea got too tempting. Another time, definitely, she thought.

As she turned around she looked at the other side of the room, where a large map of the city was affixed to the opposite wall. It was a giant grid painted onto Plexiglas that displayed the cross-sections of all the streets as well as images of several important landmarks. Above the map, bright blue letters spelled out "METROCITY."

Roxanne smiled. Seeing other people using that word was a little odd, but that was what had started happening ever since Megamind had become the city's hero. It was as though he'd coined this clever new term that the people of the city were suddenly so eager to use. To think they'd booed him whenever he'd said it before, and now it had actually become trendy.

Oh, how things changed.

Roxanne approached the map and focused immediately on the miniature image of City Hall depicted there. She felt a weight settle in her heart as she thought of the empty ruin where the building used to be. It was strange to look at the map and see it illustrated as though nothing had happened. Metro Tower, too, was represented on the map - almost parallel to City Hall. Thankfully that building was still standing this time and the bomber's damage had been confined to only one floor.

Roxanne's eyes automatically slipped back up the map and she found the museum too. The three landmarks were almost in a straight line on the city grid. The museum would have marked the middle - separated from Metro Tower by just a few blocks, and from City Hall by the plaza with its long reflecting pool.

As long as she had a map in front of her, Roxanne scanned the rest of the city as well - to get a visual on the other two bombing locations. Neither Le Cœur Brisé nor Hal's apartment building would actually be depicted here, of course - they weren't city landmarks - but Roxanne could guess where they would be located pretty accurately. (She'd covered the city as a field reporter for years, after all. She could read a map on sight fairly well, even if it wasn't labeled in detail.)

For instance, she knew Cove Boulevard cut a diagonal line through the downtown, and Le Cœur Brisé was located near the middle of the 400th block. Hal's apartment, on the other hand, was clear across town in a much seedier neighborhood. The two locations were separated by a distance of many blocks, but when lined up on the map they were nearly directly across from each other. In fact, if Roxanne co*cked her head to the right, all four bombing locations created a sort of lopsided, sideways "U" on the surface of the grid: City Hall and Metro Tower at the base, with Le Cœur Brisé and Hal's apartment forming the sides . . .

"Wait a minute . . ."

Roxanne hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud until the acoustics of the museum's smooth walls bounced her words back at her. Her eyes widened and she was suddenly digging through her purse for a pen, a paper . . . anything.

Her eyes settled on a nearby exhibit entitled "What Makes A (Mega)Mind?" - which quizzed museum guests on the anatomy of the brain. The "brain" in the display was a large, three-dimensional model with a dry-erase surface. There were also markers provided for labeling. Roxanne rushed over to it, grabbed one of the markers from the tray, and hurried back to the map. She popped the top off and drew a bold red dot directly on the Plexiglas over the image of City Hall. She did the same for the other three bombing targets - Metro Tower, Le Cœur Brisé, and Hal's apartment. She was connecting the dots with an arcing line to create the image of the sideways "U" she had envisioned a moment ago, when she heard someone clearing his throat directly behind her.

Roxanne started and turned around to face the person standing there.

"You know," he said, rather irritably, "I doubt the museum's 'please touch ' policy also means 'please write on the walls like a two-year-old '."

Roxanne was stunned for a moment as she looked at the man. He stared back at her with a sour expression that was a mixture of disapproval and boredom. For a moment Roxanne forgot herself - her mouth spread into a warm smile.

"Bernard."

"That's it !"

"What's 'it,' sir?" Minion asked as Megamind felt a determined grin creep across his face.

"Heroes can be made," he intoned under his breath.

"Sir?"

Megamind met Minion's eyes again. "You said we should show this Beetle-Bomber what we heroes are made of," he repeated. "And it hit me: Heroes are made, Minion!" With that, Megamind bounded toward the idea wall, with Minion following close behind.

"Yes, we know that, sir," Minion said apprehensively. "But please don't tell me you're thinking of creating another hero. Because while I did promise that I would never say, 'I told you so' about the last time, I will say this: That plan? It just wasn't the best one ever."

Megamind spun around but didn't stop walking. He continued to move backwards in the direction of the idea wall. "What? No!" he countered. "Don't be ridiculous, Minion. I'm not talking about making another Titan. I'm talking about me! Metrocity already has a rather dashing hero, and that, my fishy friend, is precisely the point."

Minion was looking at him like he'd lost his mind, but Megamind didn't care. Once everything had clicked in his head, he had felt a spark re-ignite inside him. He hadn't felt this energized in days. Things were finally becoming clearer.

Megamind stopped and took in the expanse of the numerous clippings, models, displays, and drawings. Many of them were new - added to the ceiling in the time since Megamind had become Metro City's protector - but a handful of others still remained from the old days - old inventions and plans that he had either never taken down or still currently used (such as the blueprints for the invisible car, or diagrams for the interior workings of the dehydration gun).

Metro Man's singed cape was still prominently displayed upon a propped drafting table beneath the forest of dangling paper. However, the mannequin that had once modeled the color scheme for Titan's uniform was now, instead, draped in a white cape with a fur collar and a trimming of golden stars. Megamind stopped in front of it.

"There's more to the bomber's chosen targets than their mere association with me, Minion," he said. He reached out and fingered the silky white fabric of the cape he had "borrowed" from Metro Man's underground bunker.

"For instance, he didn't choose the place where I pulled my first public heist," Megamind explained. "Nor did he choose any number of locations where I'd staged my epic battles against Metro Man. No, he specifically targeted places that were somehow involved in my own transformation into Metrocity's hero. Observe!" He whirled like a dervish toward a newer section of clippings - where the evidence collected from the recent bombings hung.

"The restaurant was where Roxanne learned of my deception, right before Titan's rampage," he said, pointing to the first incident. "That was certainly a turning point for me, personally - though outside observers could possibly have seen it as the beginning of our public relationship." Megamind moved quickly through the other events in turn. "Then there was the battle surrounding Metro Tower . . . And, of course, there was City Hall - where I went following Metro Man's untimely 'demise' . . . Then there's Hal Stewart: the hero I created, who also turned out to be the first villain I had to defeat . . . All those places are linked, Minion. The bomber may not be going in chronological order - perhaps to prevent me from predicting his next target - but it's clear that each of these locations has a connection with how I became Metrocity's hero. His next target will be as well. I'm certain of it."

"So how do we know where that will be?" Minion asked. "We became the good guys almost a year ago; there are a lot of places connected with us by now. Sure, the museum, the lair, and Ms. Ritchi's apartment probably top the list, but really, sir, it could be anywhere."

Megamind glowered in concentration and tapped one finger against his chin. He glanced at the papers dangling from the ceiling again. Four of them were the same - cards depicting the beetle with a shell decorated by a little orange flame. Megamind paused for a minute, then he placed his hand upon Minion's bowl to guide his attention to the same spot. "No," he said. "The bomber's got specific places in mind. And I think he wants us to find them."

"How do you know that, sir?"

Megamind looked Minion in the eye. "Because he wants to be a villain," he said. "And a villain tangles with the hero. The Beetle-Bomber wouldn't be leaving business cards behind like breadcrumbs if he wasn't eventually hoping for a confrontation." Megamind's eyes widened for a moment. "Which means he's been leaving me clues."

With a final glance at Minion, Megamind hurried back toward the monitors. He punched a few buttons and began manipulating a joystick-like dial with a look of intense concentration on his face. The tip of his tongue poked out from between his teeth as he worked. Minion followed him and stared at the screen wide-eyed.

When Megamind was finished, he stepped back. "There, Minion. Do you see it?"

Minion floated sideways in his bowl for a better angle. His eyes were glued to the screens. "Yes, sir," he breathed.

"If this is right, then he's planning two more bombings," Megamind said. "Six altogether." He swallowed thickly as he pointed to the remaining two locations on the grid. "One here and one . . ." He hesitated. ". . . there."

"Oh, sir," Minion said. His voice sounded small. "Those are-"

"I know," Megamind replied. "And we have to hurry, Minion. We're a step ahead for the moment, but he could strike at any time."

"How do we know which one he'll hit first?" Minion asked.

"We don't," Megamind answered. "We don't know when either. So we need to take care of them both right now. Mobilize the remaining brainbots that aren't already stationed at Roxanne's apartment. Send them here." He pointed to the first of the new locations. "This one-" he added, pointing to the second. "This one I want to take care of personally."

"You're sure, sir?" Minion asked.

"Yes," he answered. "I'm sure." His mouth felt dry, but he was determined. "I'm not going to be too late this time, Minion," he added. He turned and marched away from the console. "Let's go."

"What's going to be the plan, sir?" Minion asked as he followed. He punched directives and coordinates into the comlink that he used to control the brainbots.

Megamind chuckled apprehensively. "Excellent question," he said. "I'll let you know when I come up with something." He stopped short. "But I think I have at least one idea," he added. "Grab the paradox gun, Minion."

Minion made a dubious face. "The Gooey Gun, sir?" he asked. "What for?"

Megamind held up a finger. "Because I may have just thought of a way to finally put it to use," he replied. "Of course, there's no time to actually test my theory now, but . . . we'll bring it, just in case."

"Just in case of what, sir?" Minion asked.

"Oh," Megamind answered, attempting to sound casual, "in case we're too late."

It wasn't until Bernard began to shift uncomfortably that Roxanne realized how intently she had been staring at him. She couldn't help it, though. She hadn't seen him for almost a year - not since his image had melted away at the restaurant, leaving Megamind in his place. Even though she was now completely aware that the man she had been spending so much time with hadn't been the real Bernard at all, Roxanne was still surprised by the sudden thrill of recognition she felt at seeing him again. She hadn't expected that.

She honestly hadn't realized how much she had missed his face. Not until this moment. It was strange to feel so bereft over the loss of someone she never really knew.

It wasn't as though she preferred this image to the endearing blue one she had come to care for. She didn't. But it was different. This was the face that had initially matched the personality she had grown so fond of. Seeing it again was stranger than she would have imagined it might be.

But as Bernard glowered at her from across the museum hallway, Roxanne realized she was looking into a face that she hadn't actually known at all. The eyes were all wrong, for a start. The vivid green irises, which had previously twinkled out from this face, were gone - replaced by duller hazel ones. And while Bernard's eyes were probably very nice in their own right, looking into them now had a completely different effect on Roxanne.

His expression was altered as well. Roxanne had become accustomed to seeing this face so open and vulnerable - even bashful. And happy - "her" Bernard had smiled more often than not. She remembered the way he would light up with an almost childlike sense of wonder. This Bernard just seemed permanently bored. It was such a shame, because Roxanne knew from experience that he had such an attractive smile. She wondered what it would take to get this Bernard to wear it more often.

His voice, too. It was much more nasal than she remembered. The combination of everything just made him seem less and less like "her" Bernard as the seconds ticked by.

Of course, Roxanne realized, all this was only strange from her perspective. Bernard, thankfully, had no knowledge of the history she had shared with his external image, which was probably why he was currently looking at her like she'd lost her mind.

Roxanne's heart twisted just a little as he frowned at her, but as she took note of more and more differences between this man and the Bernard she had known, she began to feel even more detached. It was like running into an old high school crush, only to discover he had changed so much that there was no real spark anymore.

"What are you staring at?" he asked her, co*cking one eyebrow suspiciously and shooting quick glances to his right and left.

Roxanne finally caught herself and toned down her smile. "Sorry, Bernard," she said, hoping he would at least appreciate that she'd remembered his name this time. "For a second I thought you were, um . . . someone else." She chuckled tensely and wondered why he always seemed to catch her at such awkward moments.

"Whatever," he droned with a roll of his eyes. "I'm not sure if you noticed, but the markers go to that exhibit." He jammed his thumb back in the direction of the dry-erase brain model.

Roxanne suddenly remembered what she had been doing before he had distracted her. "Right," she said. "I know. But, Bernard-" She paused as she scrutinized him. "You're working as an archivist here again, right?"

Bernard raised an eyebrow at her. He poked his glasses farther up onto his nose and crossed his arms. "When I'm not chasing down maintenance men to clean marker drawings off the exhibits," he drawled. He held out his hand for the marker. "Can we put that back now?"

Roxanne looked at the object in her hand, then back at Bernard. "Wait," she said. "There's something you should see." She stepped around him quickly and gripped his shoulders, guiding him to stand directly in front of the map.

"Hey!" he cried abruptly as he stumbled over his own feet on the way. Apparently he hadn't expected her to physically relocate him.

Roxanne dug into her purse, pulled out a piece of paper, and shoved it into his hand. Then she stepped back toward the map. "Look at it," she said. "And tell me if this is close." She continued the line she had been drawing before.

"Um," Bernard said, a little louder this time. "Did you miss the part where I said-"

"Bernard, you don't understand," Roxanne interrupted. "Those bombings that have been happening lately all over the city - I think I figured out the pattern. Now, look at the picture I gave you."

Bernard sighed loudly and exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. "Okay," he droned.

He glanced down to the image in his hand. It was a photograph of several pieces of paper dangling from a high ceiling somewhere. Four of the images were exactly the same: a black beetle with a small orange flame depicted on the shell.

"That image has been left at all the places that have been targeted so far," Roxanne told him. "I have a hunch it's a clue for where other bombings might occur." She connected the four dots she had drawn on the map. It formed the asymmetrical sideways "U" she had begun earlier.

She reached back and took Bernard by the wrist, pulling him closer so she could see the photo in his hand. For a moment, for Roxanne, it was like old times - when she and "her" Bernard would pore over the evidence she had collected about Megamind's plans. She smiled at the memory.

"Does that kind of look like the shape of the flame to you?" she asked him as she held his wrist, along with the photograph, next to the image she had drawn on the map.

Bernard sighed again and shrugged, co*cking his head sideways to look at the image. "I guess," he said. "Sort of. It's not finished, of course."

"Exactly," Roxanne replied. "These are just the places that have been hit so far. I bet if we finish drawing the image, we might get an idea of where the bomber could strike next." She looked at him and held his gaze, smiling sweetly.

Bernard rolled his eyes again. "You're going to finish doing that whether I give you permission or not," he said matter-of-factly.

Roxanne's grin widened. "Thanks, Bernard," she replied.

He held the photo up while she tried to get the image of the flame to look like it did on the beetle's shell. She glanced back and forth between both pictures until she was sure she'd gotten her drawing as close as she could. When she had finished, both she and Bernard stepped back to look at it.

The outline of the flame snaked over the city and came to a point on the outskirts of town. It looked very similar to the image on the beetle's shell and the fact that the line came into direct contact with all the locations that had been targeted by the bomber so far made Roxanne even more certain that she had been right.

"Um . . ." Bernard's voice interrupted her thoughts. "The bottom looks a little lopsided. And too pointy."

Roxanne looked at the base of the flame she had drawn. It may have just been her poor artistic skills, but the bottom did look a little odd - not quite rounded enough.

"Okay," she mused. Then she licked the side of her hand and rubbed it against the Plexiglas, erasing a bit of the marker.

Bernard made a disgusted face.

Roxanne took the marker to the map again - this time rounding out the bottom of the flame to more closely resemble the image on the beetle's shell. She took a step back to join Bernard again. They both co*cked their heads to the side.

Roxanne's mouth went dry.

Bernard's jaw slackened. His eyes actually widened beyond his typical pretentious squint.

The line of the flame now crossed directly over the museum.

"Bernard?" Roxanne asked.

"Yeah?" he responded. He wasn't blinking.

"I think we should clear the building. Right now."

Bernard finally swallowed. "Yeah, okay."

The quickest option had been to pull the fire alarm.

There was a great deal of confusion inside the museum at first. As the loud wailing bell suddenly went off and the blinking strobe lights flashed in the hallways, most people simply froze in their tracks. But in the end, everyone inside did what came naturally when they heard a fire alarm - probably because most of the current museum visitors were schoolchildren - they lined up, and evacuated the building.

Before leaving, Roxanne used her phone to take a quick photo of the image she had drawn. She knew Megamind would need to see this. Then she and Bernard made their way toward the stairs. Jostled among the crush of people, Roxanne could still hear Bernard complain sullenly about the fact that this was potentially the second time in a year that an explosive was planted inside his workplace. He also griped about his stained suit. (There was gel dye built into the fire bell to prevent tampering and false alarms. It had exploded all over his jacket when he had pulled the manual lever.) After several long minutes, they managed to make it outside to the plaza.

As soon as she exited the building, Roxanne saw a swirling cloud of brainbots swarming the skies overhead. It seemed Megamind had done a bit of deducing himself. A line of the little robots streamed into the museum. Looking for the bomb, Roxanne assumed.

The wail of sirens from the approaching police cars and fire trucks began to sound in the distance. Roxanne started to make her way back to where she had parked her van. She took her leave of Bernard, asking him if he could explain to the authorities what they had discovered. He agreed, dryly pointing out that the authorities would probably be looking for him anyway, since he had evidence of being the one who had pulled the fire alarm all over his jacket.

Roxanne drove as fast as she could toward the Evil Lair. She wanted Megamind to see what she had discovered. The Beetle-Bomber was targeting more than just the museum, and he had to know.

She pulled to a screeching halt just outside the secret entrance, got out of the van, and ran through the hologram wall. She didn't stop until she reached the interior of the lair.

"Megamind!" she called out as she arrived. She was out of breath, but she kept walking swiftly through the main chamber, turning in circles as she went to try to catch sight of him or Minion. "Megamind? Minion? Are you here?"

It was as quiet as a tomb inside the lair. No brainbots. No Minion. No Megamind.

Roxanne reached the monitors and stopped short. On the screens was a grid of the city, similar to the one she had just seen at the museum. Each of the previous bombing locations were illuminated by bright red dots, but now they were each connected by a computerized drawing of a sideways flame superimposed over the map.

He found it too, Roxanne thought.

Two new dots were also highlighted, standing out brightly as the outline of the flame intersected their locations on the map.

One was the museum, which explained the presence of all the brainbots.

The other was much farther on the outskirts of town, the place marked by the very tip of the flame.

Roxanne pulled off her heeled shoes so she could run faster, then turned and dashed out of the lair. She headed back toward her van. Megamind wasn't here, but she knew where he had gone.

He had gone to that last target indicated on the map.

He had gone home.

To be continued . . .

Chapter 7: All Along the Watchtower

Chapter Text

Chapter 7 - All Along the Watchtower

Officer Brian Templeton walked beside the Warden, shooting apprehensive sideways glances toward the older man as they went. This was turning into a very unusual day.

Templeton had been a cop for fifteen years now. He had transferred to the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted about five years ago. It was a good position - quiet most of the time, especially now that the resident super villain was no longer incarcerated here.

According to his personnel records Templeton had always done his job well. He filed all his reports on time, kept his logs detailed and up to date, and maintained a professional rapport with his co-workers, as well as a personable yet firm relationship with the prisoners. He had never needed to fire his weapon, though he had used his taser on a handful of occasions. He was also the type of man who enjoyed doing his job discreetly. He wasn't a ladder-climber; he didn't have the stomach for politics. Therefore, he had no ambitious aspirations for high-level positions in his career. He enjoyed his work, but he didn't live for it. He did his job and went home to his family.

So when the Warden had approached him today and insisted on "tagging along" during his scheduled rounds, Templeton had become understandably nervous. He began to wonder if he had done something wrong. Was he being observed for some reason? The Warden was a stern, no-nonsense sort of administrator, but he did have a reputation for being fair. So Templeton tried not to be too visibly anxious, even if he was curious as to what this was all about.

The Warden walked beside him with long strides, his expression was serious and his hands were clasped casually behind his back. Templeton cleared his throat once or twice, unable to think of a good opener to segue into conversation. He'd never really had an extended discussion with the Warden before, so he wasn't sure what, if anything, they should be talking about. Therefore, the two remained silent as they walked down a long hallway toward Cellblock 7.

When they reached the heavy door at the end of the hall, the Warden stepped aside. He fixed Templeton with an expectant look then made a subtle gesture with his head toward the locked door.

"Oh! Sorry, sir," Templeton said as he reached for the ID card attached to the retractable badge reel on the front of his shirt. He held it up to the scanner on the door until the light changed to green. He then pulled the door open, holding it first for the Warden to pass through, then following behind him into the next cellblock.

As they began walking again Templeton noticed that the Warden glanced around a lot - scrutinizing nearly everything they passed along the way. It was almost as though he was looking for something.

"Rounds aren't usually terribly exciting," Templeton finally said. "Though that's probably a good thing, right, sir?"

The Warden grunted. "I suppose there can't be a good, old-fashioned inmate riot every day," he replied. "One can hope though, eh, Templeton?" He nudged the officer slightly in the arm with his elbow.

Templeton chuckled noncommittally. For such a no-nonsense guy, the Warden certainly had an odd sense of humor. But then he had been the superior officer at the prison for a long time. The stress of that sort of job probably started to have an effect after a while.

What surprised Templeton most was that the Warden actually knew his name. He hadn't expected that. Templeton was usually an under-the-radar sort of person, and he hadn't had much personal contact with the Warden since he had first transferred here. It was actually pretty impressive that, even with so much responsibility and so many things to remember, the Warden would actually take the time to know his officers by name. That small bit of personal connection emboldened Templeton - at least a little - to ask some of the questions that had been running through his head.

"If you don't mind me asking, sir," he began, "is there anything in particular we should be looking for?"

The Warden fixed him with a sidelong look, one eyebrow raised curiously. "Why do you ask?"

"Well," Templeton continued carefully. He wasn't sure if it was his place to come right out and mention that the Warden, himself, seemed to be the one looking for something, so he tried a different tactic. "I know you usually do your own rounds every day, sir. I wasn't sure why you'd ask to come along for mine."

The Warden smirked at him. "Don't worry, Templeton," he said. "You're not in any trouble; I'm sure you do a fine job."

The two passed in front of a row of empty, open cells. The prisoners in this section of Cellblock 7 were currently out in the yard for exercise.

"I received an anonymous tip a little while ago," the Warden explained as they walked. "It's probably nothing, but I did want to look into it personally. I figured two pairs of eyes are better than one, right?" He offered Templeton an encouraging grin.

"Yes, of course, sir," the cop agreed. "Do you think maybe if you told me what we were looking for-?"

They reached the end of the row of cells just as another person rounded the corner ahead of them. Templeton and the Warden nearly collided with the newcomer. All three stopped dead in front of the last cell. For a moment Templeton did a double-take, then he simply stared in shock. The person they had nearly run into was . . . the Warden.

The younger officer glanced back and forth between the two identical men. "Wha-?" he began.

The Warden directly across from them recovered first. His blue eyes glinted like steel as he narrowed them into a glare. "You!" he exclaimed.

Templeton's eyes shot to the man beside him. That Warden looked back at him for a moment. His vivid green eyes crinkled a bit at the corners as he chuckled sheepishly. "Um, . . . sorry?" he muttered with a shrug.

Templeton's hand immediately went for his taser.

Several things happened at once. Templeton lost his bearings as he felt himself getting twisted around in someone's grip. He felt his back collide with something firm and heard a muffled "oof" at the same time the air was forced from his own lungs. A moment later a loud clanging noise echoed in his ears.

When the world began to move at a normal speed again, Templeton took in his surroundings. He was inside one of the empty cells with one of the Wardens. The door had been slammed shut and the other Warden was in the hall. His hands were still gripping the bars between them.

He took a step back and reached for the watch at his wrist.

The Warden inside the cell stepped toward the bars and gripped them tightly. "Megamind," he growled warningly, just as the Warden in the hallway vanished in a distorted shimmer. He was replaced a second later by the former criminal in question, who stood there in one of his spandex bodysuits. In place of his usual cape, he had a rather imposing ray gun strapped to his back.

Megamind gave another timid chuckle. "Afternoon, Warden," he said, raising an open palm and twiddling his fingers in greeting. "Been a while."

"Just what do you think you're doing?" the Warden - the real Warden - demanded in a low and dangerous voice.

"Uh," Megamind returned, "hopefully I'll get a chance to explain that. In the meantime," he glanced at Templeton, "I'll have to get this back to you later. Okay?" He held up an ID badge.

Templeton's hand flew to his shirt, where his keycard used to be. It was gone.

Megamind offered them a grin and a shrug, then took off down the hall.

Templeton looked over at the Warden, who looked back at him. This was definitely turning into an unusual day.

Standing outside the museum, surrounded by all those people milling about the plaza, was starting to get on Bernard's last nerve. Especially when the hypothetical "bomb," from which they had supposedly fled, had failed to cause even a crack in the museum's new paintjob. The disruption all this had caused to his day was now beyond annoying. All things considered, Bernard really should have suspected something from the start; it seemed as though every time he ran into that Channel 8 reporter, his day just went downhill from there. Way, way downhill.

So when he was approached by a third policeman who was asking the same inane questions for the incident report, Bernard really had to make a conscious effort to try to rein in his sarcasm. Unfortunately the effort was not always successful:

"Do you work here, sir?"

"Yes . . . At least until someone else comes along to blow it up."

"And you were the one who pulled the alarm?"

"I thought the neon-ink-spattered jacket would be the first clue."

"And did you actually see any explosives?"

Trying to explain Roxanne Ritchi's flame-on-the-map theory suddenly felt very lame to Bernard. "No, I didn't actually see any explosives."

"Sir, are you aware that reporting a false bomb threat is punishable by a $2,000 fine and up to four years in prison?"

"I wasn't aware of that, but it seems logical you'd frown on that sort of thing. Especially given the current circ*mstances in the city."

"So you had reason to believe the threat was real? Can you explain why, sir?"

Bernard grumbled. "Well, I could show you the map Roxanne Ritchi made, but it's sort of inside the building right now."

"And you have no idea who might have planted a bomb here?"

Bernard shook his head and heaved a long-suffering sigh. "No. If there even is one."

That last statement usually brought about another round of the same kinds of questions. Rinse and repeat, ad nauseum.

Bernard couldn't believe his bad luck. This whole thing was turning into the biggest hassle. He couldn't really insist to the authorities that there actually was a bomb in the building. It wasn't as though he had seen it. This whole crackpot theory wasn't even his idea! He was just the one who had gotten suckered into being the messenger boy. Next time that Roxanne Ritchi woman needed someone to sponsor her wild speculations, she could find herself a different scapegoat.

Bernard was beginning to wonder if he would ultimately have to endure yet a fourth interview by one of Metro City's finest - or if he should simply offer to write the incident report himself - when the strident sound of breaking glass echoed through the plaza. The crowd around him began buzzing and Bernard, like the rest of them, trailed his gaze back toward the museum, tracking the source of the noise.

His eyes finally found it: one of Megamind's brainbots had smashed through a pane of the museum's thick windows and was rocketing higher into the sky. It was carrying something, though Bernard couldn't make out what it was.

That was odd behavior for one of those robots. Especially when the rest of them all seemed to be headed into the building. All the information Bernard had collected about Megamind over the years seemed to imply that his brainbots operated with a sort collective consciousness - working together in large groups toward a common goal. Bernard snorted derisively to himself. Maybe it had gone rogue. Wouldn't that just be great.

Bernard wrinkled his nose at the broken window in disgust. He was about to make a snide comment to anyone within earshot about how Megamind was picking the museum apart piece by piece this time, when the brainbot in the sky was suddenly enveloped in a massive explosion.

A collective gasp washed through the crowd. People instinctively ducked under the cover of their own arms. A tangible wave from the blast resonated in its wake, causing many onlookers to stumble slightly for balance. Then everything was quiet as fragments of glass, small chunks of metal, robot appendages, and other bits of debris from the bomb began to rain down onto the pavement below. The afternoon sunlight glinted off the falling pieces. People on the far perimeter of the crowd began surging backward to get out from underneath the shower of wreckage. Bernard, however, stayed where he was, dumbfounded. He hadn't realized he had been staring until his eyes began to itch dryly from being open so wide for so long.

When he finally did blink, his first - mildly shocked - thought was that Ms. Ritchi's theory had actually been right: There really had been a bomb after all.

His second thought, as he watched the rain of debris hit the pavement, was decidedly stranger: It was almost as though that brainbot had actually . . . sacrificed itself getting the explosive to a safe distance.

Bernard shook that idea out of his head immediately. Brainbots were just machines, after all. A casual observer could possibly misinterpret the speed with which that particular brainbot had fled the building as a genuine sense of urgency, but it was much more likely that its actions were simply attributed to the specifics of its programming - just like any bomb-defusing robot.

Granted, the programming of these particular robots went a little beyond the norm. Megamind was nothing if not eccentric when it came to his inventions.

Of course, that was when things got even weirder.

Several more brainbots descended upon the spot where the debris had fallen to the pavement. They paused for a moment, eyestalks blinking at their fallen . . . Member? Partner?

Teammate? Bernard thought, for lack of a better term.

The brainbots hovered there, making soft bowging noises, for a few more seconds. Then one swooped down closer to the sidewalk, where a severed limb from the destroyed robot lay, and nudged it. It actually nudged it.

There wasn't much that surprised Bernard. Ever. But that . . . did.

If he didn't know any better, he might have thought the other brainbots were actually grieving. But that was impossible. The only explanation was that their master had programmed them to have such reactions. But why a scientific genius (criminal or otherwise) would do that, Bernard had no idea.

He then watched as several of the hovering brainbots meticulously gathered up all the pieces of debris - almost tenderly - and flew off into the sky. The rest of the brainbots followed like an odd funeral procession.

Bernard watched them go, astounded. His previous annoyance at his disrupted day had dissipated. If anything, this afternoon had been fascinating, really. As an expert on Megamind, Bernard was beginning to believe that he hadn't even scratched the surface when it came to learning about the intricacies of all those inventions.

Something also told him there was a lot more to discover about their master as well.

Several weeks later, a small brass plaque would mysteriously appear on the museum wall - a miniature dedication to the brainbot who had saved the building.

Bernard would deny ever knowing how it got there.

Roxanne pulled into the parking lot at the Metro City Prison for the Criminally Gifted and sat in the van, uncertain what to do next. If Megamind was already here, which she suspected he was, she highly doubted he had just checked in at the visitors' desk and asked to speak with the Warden about a possible bomb threat in the building. Even though Megamind was a hero now, he still had a complicated history with this place - and especially with the man in charge of it.

At the same time, he didn't exactly have the place under a brainbot siege. Everything was quiet from the outside; Roxanne hadn't heard any telltale blaring alarms yet. She supposed that could mean Megamind actually had taken the high road, entered the prison like any normal concerned citizen, and checked in at the reception area. But this was Megamind, so she highly doubted it. He never took the simple route for anything. Every action was performed with the most grandiose sense of style and presentation. Surely, this odd sort of homecoming would be no different.

Not to mention that one of Megamind's greatest joys in life had always been tormenting the Warden. Roxanne doubted his new heroic status would ever change that. No, odds were much more likely that he was already in there . . . and he was being sneaky about it.

The fact that Roxanne hadn't seen the invisible car anywhere (uncloaked, at least) only reinforced the fact that Megamind was trying to be . . . "discreet" about his visit. (At least until the most opportune moment.) She certainly hoped he was inside; if this place was really one of the bomber's targets, time was probably of the essence.

So Roxanne sat in the van for a few minutes, deliberating. There were a lot of people inside the prison - guards, staff, and prisoners. And the latter, if they were locked securely in their cells, had nowhere to go if the bomb went off. The people inside had to be warned about the potential danger, but Roxanne didn't want to simply walk in and inadvertently compromise whatever Megamind was already doing. She decided to let Megamind handle the inside job. He was the hero now. She trusted him to know what he was doing.

That didn't mean she couldn't still do something to help, however. Roxanne unbuckled her seatbelt, got out of the van, and began walking back out of the parking lot. Whoever this Beetle-Bomber was, the odds of him being a cop were probably pretty slim. So that meant the odds of him being in a position to get an explosive deep into the bowels of a maximum security prison were even smaller. Therefore, Roxanne surmised, he would have to plant it somewhere the average person could access. So she decided to get an Average Joe's-eye-view of the compound.

Roxanne cursed the fact that she had decided to wear heels and a pencil skirt today as she began trudging through the grass along the perimeter fence. But she was a nosy reporter, after all - if there were any chinks in the prison's secure armor, she would find them. And if she did find something, her cell phone was programmed to access the comlink on Megamind's watch. She could get in touch with him if she needed to. With some luck, her little walkabout might help to avert a catastrophe.

Roxanne cautiously eyed the guard towers placed strategically along the outer perimeter of the prison. They made her feel extremely exposed as she walked along the fence. She hoped any guards stationed inside were busier watching the prisoners. However, that wasn't likely, and it made her wonder just how easy it would actually be to get an explosive close to the building. Odds were, anyone who tried would be spotted. (She assumed that she probably had been already.) The grass that led up to the fence was trimmed short, so there was no overgrowth in which to really conceal anything. And the parts of the fence that didn't extend all the way down to the grass were bordered by a steep, sloping cement incline. Hiding something up there wouldn't be very discreet either. Someone in the guard tower would undoubtedly be able to see a suspicious package just sitting against the fence. No doubt they would also be able to spot the bomber long before he even had a chance to place it there.

Roxanne tried to make the most of the time she probably had left. She leaned forward against the cement slope at the base of the perimeter fence for a closer look at what might be up there. She was arching up onto her tip-toes when she suddenly heard a voice behind her.

"What do you think you're doing, miss?"

Roxanne cried out. Realistically, she shouldn't have been startled - she'd been expecting as much since she had probably been spotted easily - but the sudden appearance of someone else made her heart jump nonetheless. She nearly stumbled against the incline, but managed to push herself back onto her feet. She turned to face the source of the voice and met the eyes of the young-looking officer behind her. She tried to assume a casual stance, though it was difficult with the heels of her pumps sinking into the grass. She placed her hands on her hips with a cheerful look.

"Good afternoon, officer," she said brightly. "Let me guess: caught sight of me from the guard tower?" She flashed him what she hoped was a winning smile.

"Guard booth security monitors, actually," he replied. "Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Ritchi?"

Roxanne feigned surprised delight at being recognized. "Oh!" she said as she brushed the air in front of her with a well-manicured hand. "Thank you so much for watching!"

"You also left your van in the parking lot," the cop added. "Civilians can't come this close to the perimeter, ma'am. Can I ask again what you're doing here?"

Roxanne blew a wayward strand of her bangs out of her eyes. She probably could have invented a cover story easily - a convincing one, too. But there was no point in playing games when there could be a bomb waiting to go off at any moment - the more people who could potentially do something about it the better.

"Look," she said, adopting a much more serious tone, "I have good reason to believe that whoever is planting explosives all over the city might be targeting the prison." She walked toward the young man. "I just thought if I got a look at the area along the fence I might be able to see a potential weak spot."

The young officer raised an eyebrow at that.

"I mean . . . ," Roxanne backtracked, ". . . not that I think a maximum security prison has any weak spots."

The cop didn't comment on her stumble. He simply crossed his arms over his chest. "That's highly unlikely, ma'am, I assure you," he said. "The outside of the prison is under constant surveillance and the perimeter is patrolled regularly. Begging your pardon, but so far the only thing out of the ordinary here today is you."

"If I could only speak to someone, then," Roxanne insisted. She didn't want to just leave until she was sure everything was okay. "The Warden, if he's available?"

"The Warden doesn't normally meet with the press," the young officer replied.

Roxanne shook her head. "I'm not here in any official capacity," she insisted. "I'm . . . I just want to make sure everything's all right."

The cop sighed and cast a look toward the building. "I can't promise he's available," he said. "Follow me."

Roxanne trailed a step behind the young officer as they made their way around to the front of the prison. She continued to wobble slightly in the grass until they finally reached the road and Roxanne was able to feel the sturdy pavement beneath her heeled shoes again. The cop led her to the guard shack beside the front gates and unlocked the door.

"You'll have to submit your handbag for a search," he instructed. "Standard procedure. Then I'll call inside to see if the Warden can meet with you." He pulled a walkie-talkie from its cradle on a shelf.

Roxanne placed her purse on the desk for him and he directed her to the log-book to sign in. He also handed her a visitor's badge and instructed her to clip it to her blouse. As she did so, he opened her purse to check the contents.

That's when the alarms began blaring.

"What's that?" Roxanne called over the shrill klaxon that swelled and faded warningly.

"We're going into lockdown," the cop replied. "Code: Blue." For the first time, he actually seemed a little bewildered.

"The bomb?" Roxanne asked. Her mouth had gone dry. The siren continued to wail.

"No, this alarm is for a Code: Blue lockdown," the cop repeated. "That usually means an escape attempt, but . . ." He trailed off. Then he looked her in the eyes, his scrutinizing glare suddenly turning very suspicious. "What are you really doing here, Ms. Ritchi?" he asked.

Roxanne blinked at him. "I told you, I-"

"No," the cop interrupted. "We haven't had a Code: Blue lockdown in over a year. Those usually involved your boyfriend." His glare hardened. "You don't expect me to believe that we just coincidentally have one at the same time I find you snooping around the fence. What's going on here?"

Okay, when he said it that way, it did sound bad. Granted, there was some basis for such suspicion, even if he was wrong about it. Roxanne knew that - when it came to Megamind - the officers at this prison probably had longer memories than most of the other people of Metro City. Naturally, all these mounting coincidences would cause the young man to be suspicious of her. At this point, Roxanne wasn't sure there was anything she could say to reassure him of Megamind's genuinely good intentions. And hers as well.

But perhaps she could appeal to someone with a little more authority. "Please," she said, as softly as she could over the continuous swell and ebb of the alarm, "if I could just speak to the Warden-"

"Oh, I think the Warden will be very interested in seeing you now," the cop replied tersely. "Come with me, please, ma'am."

Roxanne thought they would be going inside the building, but the young officer took her lightly by the forearm and guided her toward the back wall of the office instead, where there was a metal chair welded to the floor. He instructed her to have a seat.

"You're not under arrest," he assured her. "But I need you to wait here. I can't bring a civilian inside during a lockdown." He pulled his cuffs from his belt, snapped one link around her left wrist with a sharp snick, and secured the other around the arm of the chair.

Roxanne glared at him. "Are you kidding me?" she demanded.

"It's for your own safety, ma'am," he replied. "And so the Warden doesn't have my hide for leaving you to just wander around again. I'll be back in a few minutes." He picked the walkie-talkie up again as he left the guard shack, locking the door behind him.

Roxanne grumbled disgustedly to herself. "Is it too much to ask to not be tied to a chair for once?" she yelled to no one in particular.

She rested her head sideways against one fist and scowled at the locked door across the room. As soon as the officer had mentioned the term "Code: Blue," she had her own suspicions about what had just happened inside the prison.

She had a feeling Megamind had finally made his presence known.

Of course, all that resulted in her being stuck inside a guard shack with no way to get in touch with him.

She blinked and sat up straighter.

Or maybe she did have a way, after all.

Roxanne's eyes trailed to where her purse was still sitting open on top of the log-book. Her cell phone was inside. She smirked wryly.

She stretched as far as she could toward the desk to try to reach the handle of her purse. The handcuff on her left wrist kept her from getting very far.

She got another idea. Roxanne sat back on the chair momentarily, removed one of her shoes, and tried again - this time attempting to use the shoe's heel to hook the purse and drag it toward her. She strained forward, still just short of her goal. In her frustration, she tossed the shoe at the purse instead.

That was a little more successful. The purse indeed toppled off the desk, but it overbalanced the log-book and sent that tumbling to the floor as well, along with a manila file folder, and a brown paper bag that looked like it might have held the officer's lunch. Roxanne cringed at the scattered mess. She would have to worry about how to explain that later, but in the meantime she attempted to reach her purse again.

She slid off the chair and to her knees to stretch for the straps. The metal floor was cold against her skin. As she reached forward, she noticed something beside the desk. The paper bag she had knocked to the ground had fallen open, exposing part of its contents. Roxanne got a view of what was inside from her vantage point on the floor.

She froze.

Peeking out of the bag wasn't a lunch at all. It was a bulky, odd-looking device - a round cylinder, crudely adorned with various different colored wires, a few rubber bands, and some paper clips. She couldn't see the whole thing clearly, but she could make out what looked like the corner of a small, square brick of modeling clay, and a cell phone attached to the face of the device with duct tape and wire.

Roxanne's eyes widened and her heart began to hammer relentlessly in her chest. Her skin crawled as she felt a sudden, inexorable stab of dread.

"Oh, God," she breathed.

She had found the bomb.

To be continued . . .

Chapter 8: Déjà Vu All Over Again

Chapter Text

Chapter 8 - Déjà Vu All Over Again

Megamind quickly reached the end of Cellblock 7 and used the keycard to enter Cellblock 8. One more length of hallway and he would be in very familiar territory. He had reactivated the Warden's hologram again, but it would only be a matter of time before the real one was discovered in that cell. Then someone was bound to raise an alarm. He only hoped he made it to where he was going before that happened.

Templeton's ID badge didn't have any problems accessing this area. Megamind had known it would work since the officer had actually been stationed at his high-security cell on numerous occasions. Although he was familiar with most of the guards from his time here, there could have been any number of transfers over the past several months. Once Megamind was inside the prison and had discovered who was on rounds in this area, he considered himself lucky that it was someone he knew.

Although it had been necessary to get in here, Megamind still couldn't ignore the nagging guilty feeling concerning how he did it. He wondered if it was because he was a hero now - and heroes didn't resort to trickery - or because his actions may have gotten Templeton in trouble with the Warden.

Neither option made him feel very good.

Being the hero was so confusing sometimes.

He exited the long hallway leading out of Cellblock 8 and stood facing a double set of sliding electronic bars. Block 9 only had one cell in it.

Megamind knew it was highly unlikely that the Beetle-Bomber would be capable of getting an explosive this deep into the prison. Even with Megamind's considerable intellect (and it was considerable), he still required Minion's help from the outside to escape from (or, in this case, break into) the building. Unless the bomber somehow had direct access to this area, planting an explosive here simply wouldn't be possible.

But with the exception of the Evil Lair, there was no other place in the city that had more of a connection to Megamind than the room that lay at the end of this secure hallway. It was significant to both his life as a villain, as well as his transition into a hero. He had to at least check. If it was clean, he'd look elsewhere - which would be increasingly difficult now that the Warden knew he was here - but he wasn't leaving until he knew the building was safe.

It might have been a prison, but there were people here who meant something to him - people who had shown him kindness as a child. Many of them were still here - most were behind a set of bars . . . but others were not.

Nothing was going to happen to them. Any of them. Megamind wouldn't let it.

He was their hero, too.

Megamind rolled his shoulders and felt the shift of the paradox gun, which he had slung over his back. He set his jaw and raised the keycard to the scanner. The lights above his head turned from red to green as the two sets of bars slid open for him.

As he emerged from the hallway, he was a little surprised to see a guard stationed here - especially since Megamind was no longer incarcerated in the prison. Who else would they have put in his old cell? As Megamind glanced at the control monitors to the left, he noticed the guard on duty was not an officer he recognized this time. The man sat back in his chair with one foot propped upon the opposite knee. He was doing a crossword puzzle.

Megamind cleared his throat to get the guard's attention. "Ahem."

The guard jumped a little at the sound and quickly put both feet on the floor. "Sorry, sir," he said, indicating the puzzle in his hand, "but it's quiet, as always."

Curiously, Megamind raised an eyebrow at him. "Open it," he ordered in the Warden's gruff baritone.

The officer pressed a button and the covering over the cell's window spiraled open like the leaf shutter of a camera. Megamind peered inside. Familiar, cheerful cartoon animals smiled back at him from within the room. There was one interesting change, however: Arching beneath the rainbow painted on the wall, the words that had always read "Happy Thoughts Make Happy People." had been slightly altered. The word "People" had been sloppily scribbled out and replaced with a messy, makeshift scrawl that read-

"Tighten," Megamind muttered.

"What?" A tinny-sounding voice echoed through the two-way speakers. Megamind glanced to the right side of the room. There stood Hal Stewart, wearing prison-orange with his arms crossed and a confused look on his face. "What? What'd I do?" he repeated.

For a moment, Megamind only blinked at him. Then he just felt bemused. They had actually put Hal Stewart here? Inside this cell? As though the man still posed a threat! Megamind chuckled inwardly. As if this trite metal box could hold anyone in possession of Metro Man's awesome powers! Please! It had failed to hold Megamind most of the time! Someone with Metro Man's strength would have peeled it open like a sardine can within the first five minutes!

But, Megamind supposed, the people of Metrocity needed to feel secure that one of the greatest threats to their city had been effectively neutralized. Titan (or "Tighten" as Hal had annoyingly spelled it) had certainly been that threat - even if he wasn't any longer.

Megamind pulled himself up to his full height and glared at Hal with a very Warden-like scowl. "Hal Stewart," he began authoritatively, but then his momentum fizzled when he couldn't think of an appropriate command to give. So he just blurted, "Is there anything out of the ordinary inside your cell right now?"

"Huh?" Hal replied, clearly confused.

"You didn't receive a package or anything recently, did you?" Megamind asked. He held his hands slightly apart. "About this big, maybe with a watch or a cell phone attached? Could possibly be ticking?"

"What?" Hal asked again. "A package with a what?"

At that moment, loud alarm bells began blaring throughout the entire compound. Megamind jumped with a start. Someone must have found the Warden. He hurriedly turned back to the window.

"No? Nothing ticking?" Megamind replied in a rush. He backed away from the cell door, shooting his fingers double-pistol-style back at Hal. "Okay, then. Good to know! Gotta go!"

"Sir?" the guard stationed at the monitors asked.

Megamind looked from him back to Hal Stewart, whose face had appeared in the circular window. Then Megamind shrugged. He couldn't resist - he twisted the watch at his wrist. The image of the Warden blurred and vanished, leaving a blue, ex-super villain in its place.

"Yah!" Hal yelped in shock.

The cop at the monitors also gasped, then turned and slammed his hand against a button on the controls. The lights above the hallway doors changed from green to red. The bars began to slide closed.

Megamind took a quick moment to offer a mock salute to both men, then made a break for the closing bars. He danced through each one just as they sealed and locked, emerging - just barely - on the other side.

In his wake, he could still hear Hal's tinny voice echoing after him through the speakers. "Is there anybody you don't freaking impersonate, you blue weirdo!? Yeah, you better run! You show your face around here again, I won't be responsible for the damage I might do!"

Megamind rolled his eyes and snorted. Oh, yeah. Big, brave one, all right, he thought ironically.

The voices of several guards began echoing down one of the hallways, so Megamind adjusted the paradox gun on his back, turned, and bolted down the other. He felt a jolt of adrenaline to his system as he went. The klaxon of the alarm, the thrill of the pursuit . . . Hero or not, he had missed this.

The chase was going to be fun!

Minion was experiencing an odd feeling of déjà vu. It was like he was driving the getaway car all over again. He hadn't done that since they had become good guys. Yet, here he was, waiting for Megamind to emerge from prison. Again.

He had done a number of passes by the building already. Parking along the road was too risky; someone might unknowingly slam into the invisible car. But continuously moving back and forth did make Minion feel like he was casing the joint - not really a practice heroes resorted to. Maybe it was better that he was invisible.

There was still no word from the boss. Minion had, however, noticed Ms. Ritchi's van turn up in the parking lot a short time ago. He hadn't spotted her though, which meant she had either gone inside while he was turning around up the road, or she was still sitting in her vehicle for some reason.

Minion was concerned about Ms. Ritchi's presence here, but he certainly wasn't surprised that she had shown up. He was more than aware of how intelligent she was. After all, she had matched wits with the boss for years, and that was no easy feat. So even though Megamind hadn't had time to call her before they rushed out of the lair, it made perfect sense that Roxanne had eventually drawn the same conclusions and made her way to the prison as well.

Minion just hoped they were both okay in there.

He made another three-point turn in the middle of the road and aimed the invisible car back in the direction of the building. He wished he could have helped the boss more, but they didn't have a hologram in the extra watch appropriate for infiltrating the prison. It's not like the images of Metro Man or Space Dad would be suitable disguises here. Besides, Minion was also waiting for a report from the brainbots who had gone to the museum.

So he found himself in the getaway car. . . . Again.

The boss had said it would be for the best. He had wanted to keep a low profile once inside the prison anyway.

Minion snorted. Yeah, like that would last. Megamind was about as good at keeping a low profile as Minion was at fitting through most standard doorways. It was only a matter of time before the inevitable chaos would begin.

As if on cue, Minion caught the sound of something that caused his sense of déjà vu to redouble: a swelling siren began to peal from out of the prison. Minion slowed the car to a crawl as he neared the building again. "Okay," he muttered. "Here we go."

At almost the very same moment, the monitor on the dashboard lit up. The brainbots were reporting back from the museum. Minion glanced at the message coming over the comlink and his eyes widened.

"Whoa," he gasped.

As he raced through one populated cellblock, Megamind allowed the hoots and cheers from the prisoners there to wash over him as he went. There was an incredible, familiar feeling about it. He did manage to resist the urge to slap a sequence of high-fives to the hands stretching out of the cells as he passed. That would be overkill. He was a hero now, after all.

He couldn't suppress a laugh, though.

Okay, so it might have been a small, barely-noticeable diabolical cackle. But it was for nostalgia, not for evil. Honest.

He had just dodged two officers and ducked around a corner into a new block when Minion's voice sounded from his watch. "Sir! Everything all right in there, sir?"

"Everything's completely under control, Minion!" he replied. He had a hard time disguising the excited mirth in his voice, but he made a valiant effort to make it sound like he was merely out of breath instead.

Minion clearly didn't buy it. "You sound like you're enjoying yourself," he commented. "I figured when the alarms started going off I wouldn't be blowing your cover by calling."

"Yes, yes, okay!" Megamind retorted. "So report already!" He skidded back in the other direction as another guard emerged around the corner toward which he had been running.

"You were right about the museum, sir," Minion said. "The brainbots managed to pull the bomb out just before it went off. We did lose one, though."

"I see . . ." Megmaind lurched to one side, slithering away from the reach of the guard. He scampered down a perpendicular hallway. ". . . I'll have to do something about that later." The grin on his face spread even more broadly. "But in the meantime, we stopped one of the bombs! Go us!" He would have fist-pumped the air if his arms weren't already busy fueling his run.

"Go us, sir! Is Ms. Ritchi with you, then?"

Megamind nearly tripped. "What?" he asked. "No, why?"

"Her van is in the parking lot," Minion replied. "When I didn't see her I thought she might be in there with you."

Megamind's stomach did a sudden flip-flop. Roxanne was here? "No, I haven't seen her either," he reported back to Minion. Suddenly the watch on his wrist vibrated a little. Megamind glanced at it and felt a small wave of relief. "Hang on a second, Minion," he said. "I'm getting another call."

He gave one dial of the watch a little twist. "Hel-LO? Roxanne?" He glanced around as he ran along the cellblock, almost expecting to see her on one of the upper walkways. "Minion says you're here at the prison. Where are you?"

"It's here!" Roxanne yelled over the line. The connection made her voice sound crackly. "Megamind, the bomb is here!"

"You found it?" he replied. He felt his beaming smile return. "You positively brilliant, nosy reporter, you! Where is it?"

"It's in the guard booth! In the front!"

Well, that actually made sense. The booth was much more easily accessible for a potential bomber than the cellblocks. Still close enough to be a danger, though, if an explosive were to go off in there.

And Roxanne had found it! He could kiss her! (In fact, when this was all over, that was on the top of his to-do list!)

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "We stopped one at the museum too." He changed course and began heading for the exit. "Where are you now?"

Megamind glanced back at the three guards pursuing him, then spotted another pair of guards rounding a corner up ahead. They were trying to sandwich him in. He got ready to dodge them as Roxanne's voice crackled through the watch.

"I'm in the guard booth!"

Megamind skidded to an abrupt halt. His stomach dropped. "Wait . . . ," he said. "What?"

He never heard her reply. The first guard hit him like a linebacker. Megamind barely had time for a reflexive "oof" when the next one hit him as well, from the other side. For a fraction of a second, one blow balanced off the other and the three remained standing in an oddly cartoonish mash-up of bodies. Then the other three guards tackled them and the entire group went down like a pileup. The mound of people writhed - Megamind fought to get out, while the police officers struggled to finally subdue him.

Megamind's thoughts raced. No . . . no . . . no . . . no . . . NO! He couldn't let them take him into custody now. Not now! If Roxanne was trapped with the explosive, she was in terrible in danger. So was the rest of the building. He had to get to her! He had to get out of here! Now!

"Get . . . OFF . . . me!"

SIZZ!

A blue cube burst out of the mountain of bodies like a kernel of popcorn and plinked upon the hard floor of the prison. It was followed by another, then another. Soon all that was left was one guard who backed off slightly as Megamind trained his dehydration gun on him. The previous amusem*nt was gone from Megamind's face. His expression had hardened fiercely. Both men raised themselves to their feet. The officer lifted one hand and fixed Megamind with a glare. His other hand settled upon the taser at his hip.

"I'm really very sorry about this." Megamind's voice was low, but still apologetic. "I wish I had time to explain."

The guard drew his taser and Megamind simultaneously fired. A fifth glowing, blue cube hit the floor with a soft plink. Megamind took off running again. "Somebody, get these men some water!" he called out to another group of guards rounding the corner behind him.

Megamind holstered the dehydration gun and headed for the prison's main gates, running faster than he probably ever had in his life. He prayed to anyone who would even bother listening to him that he didn't get delayed any further. Images of Roxanne in danger were robbing him of rational thought, and he needed more than anything to stay focused. He rounded the last corner leading from the first cellblock to the exit.

He brought his watch up and hailed Minion again. "I need you out front," he said without preamble. "At the guard booth, Minion. Now!"

"Yes, sir!"

Megamind drew his weapon from its holster again and slapped the chamber with his other hand, sending it spinning. He snapped it to a halt when the setting reached 'destroy.' The prison was on lockdown; this would be the only way to breech the front door. As he reached it he aimed, but he didn't stop running.

The security door blasted outward and Megamind emerged into the glaring sunlight. The brightness assaulted his eyes after being inside the prison for so long, but he still didn't stop moving. Between him and the guard booth, there were three more sets of security fences that automatically sealed during a lockdown. Megamind fired three more times in succession, blasting a hole in each one as he ran.

As he reached the last one, a door opened in midair across the street. Minion emerged from the invisible car. "Sir!" he called out, but Megamind didn't acknowledge him. He headed straight for the guard shack door and yanked himself to a halt as he grasped the handle. It was locked.

Megamind slammed his hand onto the door and called out to Roxanne.

"Megamind!" she called back. "I'm in here!" Her voice was slightly muffled through the steel door.

Megamind stepped back and took aim at the door with his weapon. The gun's gas chamber swirled with an acid-yellow glow. Then a large robotic hand suddenly gripped the gun gently, preventing him from firing.

"Let me, sir," Minion said calmly. "It's a small room. You don't want to catch Ms. Ritchi in the blast."

Megamind blinked and then nodded. He took another step back, impatient, but obediently holstering the gun. Minion was right. Of course, he was right.

The fist of the robotic suit grasped the handle and pulled, yanking the entire doorknob panel right off. Without its latch or its deadbolt, the steel barrier simply swung free within the doorjamb. Megamind gasped out a "thank you" to Minion as he surged forward and tugged it all the way open. He reached for the paradox gun that was still slung across his back and raced into the booth.

Roxanne was on her knees on the floor at the back of the room, one hand bound to a chair behind her by a handcuff. She strained forward to point desperately at an object on the floor in front of the desk.

"There!" she cried.

Megamind's eyes followed her pointing finger. His heart hammered in his chest. There was the bomb.

At that moment, the LCD screen on the cell phone lit up. It began to ring.

Roxanne cried out.

Megamind hauled the paradox gun to his shoulder and he fired.

Everything suddenly went very quiet, although a shrill, phantom ringing continued to echo residually in Megamind's ears. He tentatively moved his head out from behind the scope of the paradox gun and blinked at the thing that was now churning in the middle of the room. The partially-exploded bomb swirled within the confines of Megamind's boa plasma like a macabre lava lamp. Flame, smoke, and pieces of the apparatus itself roiled around in strange, angry eddies. The explosion raged within its bulbous prison, but it did not break free.

Breathing heavily, Megamind looked from it to Roxanne. She had fallen back against the foot of the chair to which she was tethered - curled into a crouch, her hands instinctively covering her head. Slowly she lowered them and lifted her face to meet his eyes.

That was the moment Megamind's legs chose to remind him of just how much he had abused them. They promptly gave out on him.

He fell to his knees and the paradox gun clattered to the floor beside him. Every inch of him began to tremble - from exertion, from fear, and from overwhelming relief. He looked up again at Roxanne and she met his eyes from across the room. Somehow he managed to scramble back onto his feet, as did she. He left the paradox gun on the floor and ran to her, sweeping her into a desperate embrace as she threw her one free arm around his neck and shoulders tightly.

Megamind held onto her - every brilliant inch of her. He felt the warmth of her heavy breath against his neck and his grip on her tightened. She had done it; she had found the bomb. He never would have gotten to it in time without her help. And he had almost lost her for it. Oh god, he had almost lost her.

That thought dragged him back down to his knees - and her along with him. Roxanne's left arm stretched awkwardly behind her - still cuffed to the stationary chair - but she didn't let him go.

"Roxanne," Megamind murmured softly into her hair.

A moment later, he could feel Minion's presence beside them. "What should I do with it, sir?" he asked.

Both Megamind and Roxanne turned their faces to look at the floating, swirling, partially-exploded mass. The Beetle-Bomber's calling card drifted lazily within the synthetic jelly that encased it. Megamind was tempted to tell Minion to take the whole thing across the street to the field and get rid of it. The dehydration gun was already set to 'destroy'. But this was probably the most evidence they had managed to gather against the bomber so far; they shouldn't completely destroy it until Megamind had had the opportunity to at least try and study it.

But that didn't mean it had to stay in here right now.

"Take it outside, Minion," he said. "We'll figure out what to do with it."

It was strange to watch Minion pick up the explosion like a package and simply walk away with it.

When he was gone, Megamind turned back to Roxanne. He hadn't let go of her yet, and her free hand was still resting against the back of his neck. She was still breathing heavily, but she had otherwise composed herself. The woman was braver and more resilient than anyone else he had ever known.

She managed to smile at him, though he could still feel her trembling slightly. "That was kind of amazing," she said. Her voice was breathless and her eyes shone brightly at him. "I had no idea your gun could stop an explosion like that."

Megamind smiled back a little tensely. "Actually, neither did I," he admitted. "It was just a theory. But," he added with a shrug, "I would call this a highly successful field test, wouldn't you?"

Roxanne tried to laugh, but it came out sounding a little weak. After what had just happened, who could blame her? Megamind embraced her again, just grateful that she was safe.

She was safe.

He was safe.

Both the prison and the museum had been saved.

And two bombs had been neutralized.

Go us. Fist-pump.

Megamind was too mentally drained to muster up any more excitement than that right now.

Soon another presence had appeared at their side. Megamind heard a sharp metallic twisting sound, then both Roxanne's arms were suddenly around him. Megamind lifted his face from the curve of her shoulder and glanced up to see the Warden pocketing the handcuffs. The man's expression was unreadable, and it made Megamind's insides churn nervously.

"Afternoon, Warden," he muttered with a feeble smile. "Again."

"You both all right?" the man simply asked. His voice was neutral.

"Yes, sir," Roxanne answered for both of them. "Thank you."

The Warden nodded curtly. "That's good to hear," he said. He began walking for the door again. "I'll let you catch your breath. Then I'm going to need an explanation for what happened here today."

Megamind nodded wordlessly as he turned slightly to follow the Warden with his gaze. His mouth hung open a bit. He had thought for sure those cuffs were going to be slapped straight onto his wrists after his stunt this afternoon.

The Warden paused at the doorway and looked back at him. "I know the city's been allowing you to work off some of those life sentences of yours," he said. "How many are you down to now? Fifty-seven? Fifty-six?"

Megamind gave a small gulp. Just how many did the man plan on adding? "Something like that," he responded.

The Warden nodded. "Well, we'll see if we can't do something about that," he said. "You probably saved more than a few lives here today." And with that, he turned again to walk out the door.

Megamind was so astonished he barely blinked. It wasn't until the Warden turned and spoke one more time that he jolted back to awareness.

"Oh, and, Megamind?" the older man said gruffly. "Save us all some trouble next time and call ahead, would you, kid? I do customarily pick up the phone for the city's hero."

To be continued . . .

Chapter 9: Aftershock and Awe

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 - Aftershock and Awe

After the whole harrowing ordeal at the prison, Megamind insisted on driving Roxanne home. His earnest attempt at chivalry was so charmingly insistent that she felt guilty when she had to remind him that the station's van was still parked in the prison's lot - she couldn't just leave it there. As usual, however, Megamind did not give up. He quickly asserted that he would drive the van for her and that Minion would follow them. That way, Megamind would have a ride back to the Evil Lair after dropping Roxanne off.

It may have been a more convoluted arrangement than necessary - each of them simply could have gone their own way - but after what had happened that afternoon, Roxanne didn't exactly want to let him out of her sight either. There was a time and place for practicality, but then there was the desire to spend time with the hero-boyfriend who had just saved her life. It was an easy choice.

So Roxanne didn't tease Megamind too much when, after ten minutes of wrestling with the van's rather temperamental clutch, he still hadn't managed to move them from the parking lot. Inevitably, since they wanted to leave before dark, he had to admit his first real defeat in months, and he and Roxanne were forced to switch positions. Megamind shifted sheepishly to the passenger seat instead, blushing all the way to the tips of his ears. For his chivalrous efforts, however, Roxanne gifted her hero with a lingering kiss. In spite of his loss to the van's villainous transmission, he didn't seem to be too disappointed. Then Roxanne slid into the driver's seat and they began making their way toward her apartment, with Minion following close behind.

Every few seconds, Roxanne checked her rear-view mirror to see that the invisible car was still . . . well, visible. Minion had placed the partially-exploded mass in the trunk, and the thought of him carrying it around with him gave her the creeps. She believed Megamind when he said the boa plasma was impenetrable from the inside, but he had also never used it to stop an explosion before. She didn't like the idea of Minion - or anyone - being so close to it. Getting visual confirmation that the invisible car was still back there at least made Roxanne feel better as they made their way back toward town.

With the immediate danger passed, it didn't take long for Megamind to return to his usual, excitable self. Soon he was talking her ear off, explaining proudly (yet again) how the Beetle-Bomber's clues had led him to both the museum and the prison. Roxanne listened attentively - even though he had been quite thorough the first time when he had relayed the story to the Warden.

Roxanne was actually rather pleased with herself, too - and the fact that she had reached the same conclusion as Megamind regarding the whereabouts of the final two bombs, even if she had gone about it in a very different way. She thought back to the first time she and Megamind had "worked" together - when he had been disguised as Bernard. They had been very in sync then, too.

It wasn't surprising that they were just as good a team now. Maybe even better.

Thinking of Bernard, Roxanne made a mental note to track him down again in the very near future. She was dying to hear what had happened at the museum from someone who had actually been there. Megamind said that the bomb had been discovered and removed by one of the brainbots, but that the robot had been destroyed in the process. Roxanne felt a little pang of sadness upon learning that. It was strange to feel that way about a machine, but the brainbots had become as much a part of her life as their master and Minion, so she couldn't help it.

She also felt badly for the young guard who had been working in the booth at the prison. He vehemently insisted that he had had nothing to do with the explosive, and even claimed to have only opened the door of the booth twice prior to the lockdown: the first time had only been for a moment, and the second time had been to leave and check on Roxanne's intrusion along the perimeter fence. He insisted that the door was still locked when he returned to the booth with her, and that there had been no other suspicious activity at all. In fact, no one besides Roxanne had even signed into the log-book in days.

The young man seemed extremely shaken up about the whole ordeal, and he apologized over and over (both to the Warden and to Roxanne) for leaving her in there with the bomb.

Roxanne wondered if he was going to be a suspect now. She hoped not; he seemed to be telling the truth. And he had only been doing his job.

Megamind said that verifying the young man's story wouldn't be easy. Many of the things that would have done so had fallen on the floor around the bomb, and were now all encased in the same boa plasma bubble - including the log book, some of the papers from the desk, and even one of Roxanne's shoes. Since getting rid of the boa plasma meant destroying what it contained, he didn't have a lot of hope for extracting the miscellaneous items from inside it.

Roxanne was annoyed about the loss of the shoe - it had been a favorite - but felt very fortunate to still have her purse and her cell phone. Reaching them hadn't been easy, but she had finally managed to drag the purse toward her using the heel of her other shoe. There were several marks on her left wrist where the handcuff had bitten into her skin as she struggled to stretch forward, but it was a small price to pay.

As they drove into the downtown area, the tall buildings began blocking some of the remaining sunlight. It made the early evening seem dimmer than it actually was. The whole effect caused Roxanne to suddenly feel very drained. She had been away from her apartment since early this morning and the ordeals of the day - both the exciting and the terrifying - were really starting to catch up with her.

They pulled up to her building and Roxanne turned the van toward the parking garage. Megamind hailed Minion on the watch and told him to wait for a few minutes. Roxanne then backed into her designated parking spot and a minute later the two proceeded up the elevator toward her apartment.

"Oh! There was something I wanted to show you," Roxanne said as the elevator reached her floor. She began to dig through her purse with the hand not holding her lone shoe. (Going barefoot seemed the preferable alternative to limping along, wearing only one.) She pulled out her cell phone and cycled through the photo menu as they approached her door.

"There," she said, offering him the phone once she had found the image she had been searching for. It was the snapshot she had taken of the flame she had drawn on the map at the museum.

Megamind smiled at it, then looked up at her. "Truly clever," he said admiringly.

When he looked at her that way, Roxanne felt a pleasant warmth creep up into her cheeks. She automatically turned her head from him so her blush wasn't painfully obvious. She also suddenly felt a little uncharacteristically clumsy - it took her three tries before she finally managed to get her key into the lock.

"Nice to know the nosy reporter skills didn't go to waste," she replied as she finally got the door open.

To her surprise, a brainbot swooped out of her apartment through the open door. She turned back to Megamind and raised an amused eyebrow. "There's a brainbot in here," she said, stating the obvious.

The brainbot wriggled toward Megamind at shoulder-height and he lifted his hand to pat its dome. It automatically snapped its jaws and Megamind raised a warning finger with a sharp, "Ah-ah!" The robot settled and allowed him to pat it affectionately before moving next to Roxanne.

"Yes, they'll be in and out, if that's all right," he replied. "Just for a little while. We may have found the Beetle-Bomber's pattern of planned targets, but I'd still feel better if they continued to sweep your building every few hours for a while longer. Especially now."

Roxanne eyed the little robot that quivered in front of her like a puppy that hadn't seen its masters all day. "It better not have done any damage in there," she said.

As the brainbot continued to shake playfully, Roxanne glanced down at the shoe in her hand. She shrugged - it wasn't as though it was any good without the other one, anyway. She tossed it into the interior of the apartment and the robot sped off in pursuit. "That doesn't mean you can have any of the others!" she called after it warningly.

She dropped her purse on the hall table and turned back to Megamind, who had closed the apartment door behind them. "Personally, I think you worry too much," she said with a wry smile.

"Well, I am the Protector of Metrocity now, Roxanne," he reminded her, casting furtive looks around the apartment as he walked past her. "It sort of comes with the territory to be, uh . . . protective." He hedged to the side to glance beneath a table and behind a potted plant.

His efforts made Roxanne smile even more and she placed her hand on his arm. That finally brought his attention back to her, instead of the potted ficus.

"Just don't overdo it, hero," she said. "We won today, remember?"

He offered her a small grin in response. "That's true," he agreed. Then his smile faded a little. "Unfortunately, a situation like this only ups the stakes of the game." He turned to face her fully. "We beat him, but we didn't catch him. If this Beetle-Bomber wants to be a real villain, he's not going to stop just because we've foiled his initial plan. He's going to think of something different - something bigger. And he'll probably be a lot more direct about it."

Roxanne squeezed his arm gently, then trailed her hand down to grip his fingers. "Because that's what villains do?" she asked, though it wasn't really a question. She knew the answer.

"It's what I would have done," Megamind confirmed. He reached forward and took her other hand so they were now both interlaced between them. "And when it came to my own evil plans, they may have had many different steps and stages, but my 'Step 1' was always the same. I even stopped writing that one down years ago."

Roxanne grinned reflectively. "Let me guess," she mused. "Step 1: Kidnap Roxanne Ritchi."

Megamind's answering smile failed to reach his brilliant green eyes. He squeezed her hands tighter and looked down at their linked fingers. His thumb grazed very lightly over the angry red marks the handcuff had left on her wrist.

"My worry is that kidnapping is only the least of his options," he admitted. "I might be able to make educated predictions about what he'll do next - since I've been there myself - but I have no knowledge of him personally. There's no way for me to know what he'll specifically choose to do. Or how drastic his steps might be." His lips tightened as he frowned. "Chances are, you'll be a target."

Roxanne liberated one of her hands and placed it against his cheek instead, using it to guide his eyes back up to meet hers. With her other hand she gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze. She put on her most confident smile. "And I keep telling you not to worry," she said, looking at him meaningfully. The hand on his face slipped down to his shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere."

Megamind reached up this time, placing his palm beneath the ladle of her jaw. He swept one thumb across her skin. He swallowed and Roxanne watched his throat bob with the movement. She felt her own smile fade as she saw how serious he was.

"I could have lost you today," he murmured. "I almost did." Then he leaned forward until his forehead was touching hers.

Hearing him say something like that created a tightness in Roxanne's chest. Suddenly she was at a loss for words, which didn't happen to her often. She wasn't sure how to handle the gravity of his seriousness. It wasn't a side of him that she really saw often . . . or, ever.

She had become so much more familiar with manic, gleeful Megamind. Even brave, heroic Megamind was now instantly recognizable to her. She had certainly witnessed many aspects of his personality over the years - frenzied, frustrated, arrogant, brilliant, comical, devastated, courageous . . . But when it came to the two of them, Roxanne was so much more certain of her own footing when she had the ability to tease him - to joke with him - and when he reciprocated with his amazing, unconditional ability to make her smile.

Overall, during the past several months, their relationship - while it certainly had its ups and downs - had been exciting, companionable, and most of all fun. But this tenderness - this quiet, almost frightened sincerity that he was currently displaying for her - was new. Maybe not brand new - its potential had probably always been there - but nothing had ever created a reason for it to come to the surface before. It seemed so strangely different. And not just because it was him. No one had ever allowed themselves to be quite so emotionally open with Roxanne before. Maybe it was because - given his lack of previous relationships - Megamind simply didn't realize that most people tended to hide such vulnerability from each other.

Whatever the reason, it had a strange, dizzying effect on her. Ever since they had first gotten together, even her most affectionate moments with Megamind had always been tinged with laughter and witticisms. Roxanne had always liked that about their relationship. But now, the warm sensation pooling inside her as he touched her and whispered his worries aloud suddenly introduced a new layer to him - to them - she hadn't realized was there.

The prospect scared her - probably more than even a crazed bomber could. Certainly more than she was willing to admit. But something also told Roxanne that she would like this layer as much - if not more - than the others.

She tightened her grip on the hand that still held hers. Her other one slid around him to gently stroke the back of his neck, anchoring her forehead to his. Finally, she found it in her to say something. "You won't lose me," she assured him softly.

But that was all she could manage. Roxanne Ritchi, who used words for a living, was suddenly at a loss. It wasn't a problem that she was accustomed to having plague her - especially not with Megamind. Whether she was bantering with the villain or with the hero, she was always on the top of her game with him. This sudden tongue-tied affliction was so foreign.

So she found something else to do with her tongue.

"Come here," she said as she pulled him, unresisting, into a slow, deep kiss.

Over the past several months, Megamind had gotten quite good at kissing. At first, physical affection was - understandably - something of a mystery to him, as were most things about his new life. But like any great mystery, he was eager to unravel it. And apparently, his tendency to learn from every experience extended to more than just science and heroism. Roxanne couldn't help but appreciate his efforts. But up until this point, most of their kisses had also mirrored the majority of their interactions - content, playful, giddy, teasing, mischievous, often sweet, and almost always laced with a healthy dose of laughter.

This one was . . . noticeably different.

As soon as she pulled him to her, Megamind relinquished his hold on her hand and snaked his arm along her lower back instead - holding her as close against him as he possibly could. His other hand moved to dip into her hair. Her arms automatically wrapped around his neck as she parted her lips for him. She surged to her toes against the length of his body, then settled her heels back upon the carpet, arching her back slightly and drawing him with her - downward and inward. She heard him murmur something, but his words were lost to the touch of his tongue to hers.

Megamind's hand at her back reflexively tightened to clutch a fistful of her blouse as his mouth moved against her. There was no laughing, not this time - this kiss was long and it was serious. It made Roxanne's head swim and her knees weak. As Megamind bent over her, she could feel him tremble slightly - much as he had back in the guard booth. If she had been able to register a conscious thought in her head, she may have realized he wasn't the only one.

Eventually their lips parted, and their foreheads rested against each other once more. She could feel his breath, quick and heavy upon her face.

"Roxanne," he breathed. He absently smoothed a short lock of hair behind her ear. "I . . ."

Megamind pulled back slightly from her, looking her fully in the eyes. "There's something I need to say to you," he said.

Roxanne felt a small smile creep across her lips as she looked back at him. They were still holding each other very closely in the middle of her living room. "Yes?" she replied with an expectant grin.

"I . . ." Megamind began, then paused for a moment. After a second, his face split into an enormous smile. "I want to take you out," he announced, almost triumphantly. "Tomorrow."

Roxanne wasn't quite sure what she had been expecting him to say - especially after he had just been so emotionally bare with her - but the huge smile that had suddenly appeared both on his face and in his eyes was utterly infectious. And his exuberance never failed to delight her. She smiled back. "Oh, you do, huh? Date night?"

"Yes," he asserted, still grinning. He stepped back slightly, but still held her firmly by the arms. "And I don't just mean 'Minion-fixes-dinner-at-the-lair ' or 'movie-night-on-your-sofa '," he said. "I want to take you for a real night out for a change. A special one. Tomorrow evening."

Roxanne quirked her eyebrow at him. "Is it a special occasion?" she asked.

"Of course!" Megamind replied. "In fact, I can think of several reasons to celebrate!" He looped his arms lightly around her waist and continued to smile as she did the same. "Naturally, we foiled the Beetle-Bomber's nefarious plot," he said. "With any luck, we are that much closer to stopping him entirely. We are all still in one piece . . . and . . ." He trailed off.

"And?" Roxanne prompted flirtatiously.

Megamind flashed her a devilish grin. "And we are both incredibly good-looking," he said matter-of-factly. "We should be seen in public. As often as possible." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

This made Roxanne laugh - long and genuinely happy. "Well," she mused as she tightened her hold around his waist, "it has been a long time since either of us was free enough to have a real night out."

"I won't take 'no' for an answer, Ms. Ritchi," Megamind replied importantly. "Don't force me to kidnap you!"

She smiled at him. "I don't think any drastic measures will be necessary," she said. "A night out tomorrow sounds perfect."

Megamind's grin softened a little. "I'm sorry the restaurant you wanted to go back to is gone now," he said. "But I'll try to make that up to you."

Roxanne nodded. "That's not a problem," she said. "Is there anything you want me to do?"

"No, no!" he countered, holding up a hand. "I will take care of all the details. You just be ready! Tomorrow night, I shall whisk you away!"

Roxanne laughed as he swept past her toward the door, offering her a dramatic bow as he went. "I like the sound of that," she said. "I can hardly wait!"

"Minion's probably wondering if I got lost up here, so I should get going. We have some evidence to go over," Megamind said as he reached her front door. "Will you do me one favor?"

"Of course," she replied.

"Stay alert," he said seriously. "I wasn't kidding when I suggested that our fire-happy friend might get a little twitchy now that we've thrown a wrench into his plan. Just . . . promise me you'll be cautious."

"I will," Roxanne assured him. "But I wasn't kidding either when I said don't worry. I can think of at least one - rather dashing - former super villain who knows first-hand that I can handle myself."

"True," Megamind said with a nod.

"Besides," she added, "I've got pepper spray on my keychain and a handful of your little tracking devices in my purse, remember? I think I'm covered."

"Okay," Megamind replied. He opened her apartment door. "Tomorrow night, then?"

"Tomorrow, it is." Roxanne stepped forward and gave him one last kiss in the doorway. It was slower, sweeter, and unfortunately briefer than their last had been. When he left, she closed the door behind him and squinted through the peephole as he strode down the hall. He did a little two-step, punctuated by a fist-pump as he went, causing Roxanne to giggle as she turned and pressed her back against the door.

With a lingering smile, she touched two fingers to her lips. They were still tingling.

The brainbot in the apartment came to hover in front of her. The bulb on its eyestalk blinked as it looked from her to the door and back to her again. Roxanne noticed a shredded strip of glossy, black patent leather dangling out of one side of its metal jaws - all that likely remained of her shoe.

She crossed her arms, shaking her head amusedly as the brainbot made a soft twang in her direction. "Sorry," she said, smirking at it with a shrug. "You can't have any more of them. I've got a date tomorrow."

The next afternoon, Minion found himself standing stock-still and staring in the middle of the lair.

After spending so many years with Megamind, Minion wasn't easily shocked anymore. Crazy schemes, outlandish trains of thought, even bizarre pronunciations were all par for the course with the boss. There was very, very little Megamind could ever come up with that would surprise him.

Yet, as Minion stared wide-eyed at his friend, he decided there were still a few things that might do the trick.

"What?" Megamind asked, shifting his weight self-consciously.

"Sir? What are you wearing?"

"I . . ." Megamind fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable under Minion's scrutiny. "I got a suit."

Minion finally blinked. "Yeah, you sure did."

It was dark navy with a lighter blue dress shirt beneath, paired with a monochromatic tie. Megamind tugged at the sleeves, looking very ill at ease. "It's not me," he finally guessed. "She's going to laugh, isn't she?"

Minion cleared his throat. He hadn't meant to stare; the boss had just caught him off-guard. He offered Megamind a reassuring smile. "If I could just make a suggestion, sir?"

Megamind shifted uneasily. "What kind of suggestion?"

Minion approached and stepped behind him. He carefully gripped the suit's collar, which Megamind had pulled straight up to encircle his neck, and folded it down flat. He smoothed over it with his robotic fingers - careful not to put too much pressure on the nearly-healed burn on the boss's shoulder. Then he took Megamind gently by the arms and spun his entire body around so he could adjust the lapels in the front. Minion gave the hem of the jacket a sharp tug downward to straighten out the lines.

"There," he said. "How's that?"

Megamind tilted his head sideways and cast a critical glare down his nose at his flattened collar. He rolled his shoulders a few times and made a slight face at Minion. "It feels weird that way," he grumbled.

Minion smiled warmly. "Well, it's not exactly a collar-up sort of outfit, sir."

Megamind tentatively fingered the naked back of his neck. "It just feels so exposed," he said. "I'm not used to going collar-less . . . not on purpose."

Minion grinned at that. It was true. While some of the boss's bodysuits had a rounded crew-neck, he hardly ever wore them without layering on some sort of popped collar - whether it had a cape attached or not. Being a hero hadn't changed that. Even when he had been in jail - without access to his preferred attire - Megamind often improvised by flipping up the collar of his orange, prison-issued jumpsuit.

"Trust me, sir," Minion said. "For something like this, collar-down is the way to go."

Megamind seemed to acquiesce, though he continued to roll his shoulders intermittently - possibly to accustom himself to the suit's foreign feel.

"You're not angry, are you, Minion?" Megamind asked with concern. He fumbled to adjust his tie a little as he walked toward the mirror across from the monitors.

Minion gave a small scoff as he followed behind. "Why would you think I'd be angry, sir?" he asked. "About what?"

"Well, because you usually make all my most impressive costumes," Megamind reasoned. "Especially the ones for the most momentous occasions. But in this particular instance . . ." He shrugged apologetically as he turned from the mirror back to Minion. "I couldn't wait the time it would take for something to be tailor-made. Please say you understand?"

"Of course, sir," Minion floundered, a little confused. "Sure I do. But . . . what is the momentous occasion, exactly?"

Megamind took a deep breath and squared his shoulders with a confident smile. "Tonight's the night, Minion," he announced. "I've decided."

Minion blinked apprehensively. "Tonight's the night for . . ." he prompted, leaving the sentence dangling open for Megamind to complete.

"Why, to confess my feelings to Roxanne, of course!" Megamind declared proudly.

"Oh," Minion replied. His eyes widened again. "OH! Well, that's terrific, sir!"

"I know!" Megamind responded with a giddy smile. "It's the perfect time, Minion, just like you said! Things have been going so well: We prevented two explosions - in a rather dramatic and heroic fashion, I might add - we are closing in on our first serial villain, the Warden seems to have developed a burgeoning respect for me, and tonight . . . tonight I shall confess my love to Roxanne over dinner. It's perfect!"

Minion nodded, offering his master a toothy grin. "Just one thing though, sir," he said. "Isn't it a little early in the afternoon for you to already be dressed for dinner?"

"Yes," Megamind replied simply, with his giddy smile still plastered on his face. "It is." He strode away from the mirror and toward the monitors. "But I had hoped to get acCLImated to my new wardrobe. I don't want Roxanne to think I look silly and uncomfortable when she sees me later, so I'm breaking it in. I also thought I'd go out and get some flowers for the evening . . . That's what you do, right?" he broke off to ask. "You're supposed to bring flowers?"

"I would think flowers might be a nice touch, yes, sir."

"Good. And I don't want to always have to hide behind the disguise generator whenever I want to do something normal," Megamind concluded. "So . . ." He gestured to himself to punctuate his statement.

"You know, I'd be glad to get some flowers for you, sir," Minion offered. "It wouldn't be a problem."

"No," Megamind replied. "I don't think I need you to do that." He froze for a moment, then backtracked a little anxiously. "That's not to say I don't need you," he clarified. "I don't mean it that way."

Minion grinned. "Of course not, sir."

"Apparently the flowers one chooses are supposed to have some significance to the occasion," Megamind continued. "I think I would like to be the one to pick them out."

"Just be careful not to 'break the suit in' so much that it gets all rumpled," Minion warned gently. "You want to look nice for Ms. Ritchi, don't you?"

"Oh, Minion!" Megamind droned with a roll of his eyes. "For a fish, you can be such a mother hen! Stop worrying. I want everything to be perfect tonight."

As he stood before the monitors, Megamind began to manipulate the dials until a map of Metro City appeared on the screens. About half a dozen red dots lit up on the grid and Megamind scrutinized them thoughtfully.

"What's all that, sir?" Minion asked.

"I've isolated several locations for my mission, Minion," Megamind said.

"Your mission?" Minion said. He raised one brow curiously.

"Of course," Megamind replied as though it should have been obvious. "These are some of the nearest flower-ists."

Minion smiled. "I think you mean 'florists', sir."

Megamind scowled at him. "That is precisely what I said."

Minion couldn't help snickering a little at the boss's reaction. "Before you go, sir, is there anything in particular you want me to do with all this?" He gestured to the remaining evidence they had collected from the Beetle-Bomber case, which was now scattered upon the table near the monitors. Among it was the most recent calling card found by the brainbots at the museum, the residual pieces of the bomb that had detonated there, and the milky bubble that contained the swirling remains of the near-explosion from the prison. (Even the blueprint Owen had left behind the other day was still there, though it had been shoved unceremoniously to one side.)

Megamind regarded all the objects. "The card can go on the ceiling with the others," he said. "But the rest of it I'd like to take a closer look at - especially the bomb inside the boa plasma. That has turned out to be . . . rather fascinating."

Megamind leaned toward it and scrutinized the churning amalgam of smoke, fire, and various objects encased within the synthetic shell. "When I first decided to bring the paradox gun with us, I had originally thought to simply shoot the bomb itself when I found it," he said. "I figured the boa plasma would nullify its ability to explode. I hadn't anticipated the success of preventing a blast in progress, though I'm certainly relieved that it worked!"

"Yeah. Ditto," Minion agreed.

"But as a result, it seems the substance is now displaying a previously-unidentified ability," Megamind continued. "We always knew the boa plasma prevents anything trapped inside from breaking free, but it seems it can also place its contents in a sort of suspended animation. Notice how the items floating inside have not been consumed by the fire around them."

Minion looked. He hadn't really thought of it before now, but sure enough, the log book, the file papers, the Beetle-Bomber's sixth card, even Ms. Ritchi's shoe all floated within the roiling smoke and flame of the explosion, but none of it had been burned.

"Until now, we had only tested the paradox gun on inanimate objects," Megamind concluded. "But after this, it seems there is another layer to the boa plasma's abilities we had not yet had the occasion to discover: It doesn't simply contain energy, it also appears to neutralize it to an extent. I'm eager to study it further." He smirked. "But not tonight. Tonight I have other plans."

He stuck his thumbs under the lapels of his jacket and offered Minion a lopsided grin that was both happy and charmingly goofy. "How do I look, Minion?" he asked. "Do I look good?"

Minion smiled in return. "Dashingly well-dressed, sir," he said.

"Excellent!" Megamind replied. He smoothed his hands down the front of the jacket and tugged on the bottom hem. He took one final, uncertain look at the flattened collar. Minion could tell he was starting to get nervous again.

"And, sir?" Minion interjected. Megamind's gaze snapped back up and Minion's eyes softened as he looked at his lifelong friend. "Ms. Ritchi's not going to laugh. She's going to love it." He paused a moment before adding, "And you. I know it."

Megamind took a deep breath in and out, his shoulders rising and falling in one large movement. "Thank you, Minion," he said meaningfully. He squared his shoulders and his confident expression returned. "In that case, I'm off! Wish me luck!"

Wayne had arranged several assorted bits of paper on the coffee table in front of him. Each had a variety of words and phrases scribbled on them - random things that he had been inspired to write down at intermittent moments. Things he had thought would make good additions to his song lyrics.

He had been jotting them down sporadically over the past few months, leaving them in the pockets of random articles of clothing or on the surfaces of various pieces of furniture. He had always planned to go back and review them later - to use them as inspiration. Today, in a moment of extreme boredom, he had finally gone searching for them all.

As expected, there was a definite pattern to his scribblings.

Sometimes the scraps of paper only included a few miscellaneous words. On the back of one receipt from the liquor store, for example, he had scrawled out things like: champion, mighty, and stouthearted. (The latter word was probably influenced by the impressive variety in the beer section, though Wayne hadn't been able to afford more than a six-pack of Pabst at the time.)

Sometimes the writings suggested at themes or titles for songs. One hot-pink going-out-of-business flyer that had been handed to him as he had walked down Main Street, for instance, had several decorating the margins: "If You Were My Damsel (You'd Never Distress)", "I'd Move Mountains for My Baby", and even "I've Got X-Ray Eyes for You".

Wayne stared at the papers. The scattered words and phrases created a mosaic across the coffee table:

. . . strong as a train . . .

. . . sonic boom . . .

. . . help the helpless . . .

. . . forthright fists of fury . . .

. . . heart of steel . . .

. . . dynamic . . . chivalrous . . . stalwart . . . integrity . . . righteous . . . valiant . . .

". . . And liberty and justice for all," Wayne groaned, leaning his chin against his fist disgustedly.

It was all the same.

That monotonous life he had wanted so badly to escape almost a year ago . . . that "same silly charade" he had taken such drastic steps to break away from . . . and he had inexorably managed to bring it all with him. Every song, every word, every scribbled idea . . . it was all about the same thing.

Nothing had really changed. He still felt . . . stuck.

Except before, there had been two other points to the rather odd triangle of players in the game. Now, he was just alone.

Wayne glanced at the final scrap of paper on the table in front of him - a crumpled-up napkin with the dried stain of a coffee ring. In one corner, he had scrawled the word gallantry. (It had a little star next to it, which usually indicated a particular favorite.) Along the bottom was another short phrase: "You can't be brave if you have nothing to lose." (It was annotated: Ballad???)

He picked up the napkin to look at it more closely, folding it in half so just the sentence was showing. He snorted at it derisively.

It was sort of ironic.

Technically, he had less now than he'd ever had in his life. When he had been a hero, a champion, Metro City's favorite son . . . in short, when he'd had it all, he hadn't been afraid of anything. Bravery - real bravery - had been a foreign concept to him. Now, when he had nothing - very little money, no adorning fans, no real passion left for his musical pastime, and only one real friend (who he had probably alienated the last time he had spoken to her) - he couldn't help but feel . . .

What?

Discomfort?

Dissatisfaction?

True, he wasn't satisfied with the results that had come from his impulsive decision to leave his old life, but why did the thought of doing anything about it suddenly make him feel . . .

Afraid?

Was that it? Wayne grimaced. Was he actually afraid? Wayne Scott? Metro Man?

And why did he suddenly feel that way now, when he had nothing - and therefore, nothing to lose? He hadn't been afraid of stepping into the unknown all those months ago when he left the superhero gig behind; why would he have anything to be afraid of now?

What was he trying to preserve, exactly?

His honor?

Right. He had a cold, pristine bunker full of gaudy relics, and a memorial museum across town. That was all. He spent his days surrounded by the deeds of his former life - like living in a pharaoh's tomb. His honor was just a memory.

What about his pride?

Well, he had refused to help with Titan, he still wouldn't consider approaching Megamind, he didn't like to go out very often so he wouldn't be recognized, and he hadn't actually completed a single song.

He had effectively built a prison for himself using the so-called "freedom" he had desired so badly.

Yeah. Lots to be proud of there.

And then there was his reputation.

That was the one thing he really had left, wasn't it? People still loved Metro Man. He had gone down in an impressive blaze of glory, dying the way he had lived - heroically. The memory of his great deeds was important.

But who was it important for? The people of Metro City? (They had a new defender now, after all.) Or was it more important to Wayne that the memory of Metro Man remain untarnished?

Okay, okay . . . Wayne's brow furrowed. So maybe . . . maybe he was afraid.

He was afraid of what the citizens of Metro City would think if they ever learned the truth about him. He was afraid that approaching Megamind now would essentially mean throwing himself at the mercy of his old foe - something the old Metro Man never would have done. He was afraid . . .

Wayne caught his reflection in the glass case that held his old uniform. His shaggy-jawed image stared back reproachfully.

"Am I a coward?" He hadn't meant to say it out loud, and the sound caught him off-guard. The words rang clearly through the cold stillness of the underground bunker.

When he couldn't stand the condemnation in his own eyes any longer, Wayne looked away from his reflection and back to the crumpled paper in his hand.

You can't be brave if you have nothing to lose.

He blinked.

A grim little smile pricked at a corner of his lips. He held the napkin in the fingers of both hands. His thumbs smoothed out the wrinkled creases over the words he had written there. He took a deep breath in and out and spoke aloud again: "I'm . . . afraid."

The deep baritone of his voice filled the emptiness of his solitary hideout. He didn't like the way the words that bounced back at him sounded.

So he said them again. Louder. "I'm afraid."

They didn't sound any better the second time.

Wayne stood up and strode toward the case that displayed his uniform. He stood before it so the reflection of his head hovered in just the right spot to look as though he was wearing it. He took another deep breath, steeled himself, and went for it.

"I, Metro Man, am afraid of being discovered," he said resolutely. "I'm afraid of going out and living the life I wanted because I know people would hate me if they ever learned how I deserted them." He swallowed. "I'm afraid of actively pursuing the friendship of the one person who has every right to hate me . . . because what if he really does? I'm afraid . . ." Wayne's eyes narrowed and he set his jaw as he stared forcefully at his own reflection. ". . . but I am not a coward."

Wayne tightened his fist around the napkin in his grip and met the eyes of the man reflected in the glass case. He had never been afraid before - it was a foreign feeling and he didn't like it. But if the man who had been Metro Man was somehow capable of being afraid of something, then he was capable of being brave, too.

Wayne had put off talking to Megamind long enough. He would do it. And he would do it today.

His stomach did a queasy little flip-flop. Apparently, if he thought that decision would make him feel less apprehensive, he had thought wrong. But his mind still felt . . . lighter, somehow.

He was done hiding from his former rival.

Wayne knew where he had to go, and he knew what he had to do.

Minion had an Alice Cooper song stuck in his head for most of the afternoon. He often found that classic rock and air guitar made a great accompaniment for the chores he had to do around the lair. And he certainly didn't mind the repetitiveness, as long as the song was a good one. He shuddered at how many times Metro Man's crooning had been stuck on replay in his mind thanks to the former hero's recent inclusion in the boss's "work soundtrack".

Hidden talent, my robotic primate foot! he thought.

But classic metal was much better. Minion had lost count of just how many times he had repeated the refrain to "No More Mr. Nice Guy" during the alligators' afternoon feeding, and as he made his way back from the lower levels of the lair he began orchestrating a complicated series of air guitar riffs that would have made any rock star proud. However, his one-fish concert died out when he reentered the lair's main chamber.

He suddenly felt as though he wasn't alone.

"Sir?" he called out.

Megamind had been gone for a while, but that didn't exactly surprise Minion. The boss usually took a long time when it came to making decisions about certain things; being faced with the countless options a flower shop had to offer would certainly be daunting enough to send his busy brain into overdrive. (Which was why Minion had initially offered to go in his place.) But Megamind was right: he should be the one to pick out Ms. Ritchi's flowers for tonight.

That thought caused Minion to feel a momentary flash of panic. Ms. Ritchi! What if Ms. Ritchi had stopped by while he had been feeding the alligators?

Under normal circ*mstances, Minion was always happy to see Ms. Ritchi, and was certainly more than happy to entertain her until Megamind returned to the lair. But today, the thought of being alone with her made him a little apprehensive - he had a bad habit of revealing things to her that the boss would probably prefer he didn't. No doubt she was curious about Megamind's plans for the evening, which could only spell trouble for Minion. And, with tonight being such an important night for Megamind, Minion didn't want to run the risk of accidentally letting something slip.

He crossed his fins that it actually was the boss who had returned home, while at the same time mentally prepping himself with some safe topics of conversation that he could discuss with Ms. Ritchi, just in case.

What he actually saw when he finally reached the monitors was not what he had been expecting at all.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hiya, Minion!" Owen grinned happily from his seat in the boss's high-backed chair. He swiveled it back and forth with one foot. "Nobody answered when I called out, so I just figured I'd wait. Is Mr. Mind with you? Have you been out long?"

Minion fixed him with a glare. "And how did you get in here, exactly?"

Owen's smile faded a little. "Well, when you showed me the other entrance the other day, I just figured . . ."

Minion scowled. So the guy had figured out which wall concealed the secret entrance when they had driven to City Hall. Either that, or he had tried them all - which seemed just as likely. Minion made no effort to hide his irritation as he crossed his robotic arms and glared. "An open door is not necessarily an invitation, Owen," he said.

He didn't even hear Owen's flustered apology because his attention was immediately caught by the display on the monitors. Normally, unless he or Megamind were working on something specific, the screens' default setting was the live video feed from the cameras outside. Now, however, various windows were open to display:

Minion turned back to Owen, shocked, then his eyes narrowed and his fins bristled angrily.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

Owen floundered. "I- I'm sorry," he stammered. He held his hands up as though to ward Minion off. "It's just . . . I mean . . . It's all so fascinating and-"

"No! That's it!" Minion's spine stiffened; hostility radiated off him in waves. The little tendrils that ran down his back stood on end. "This has gone far enough, Owen. The boss tolerates you, and that's his prerogative. But my sole purpose in life is to look out for his best interests. And right now that doesn't include people who sneak into his home uninvited and snoop through his things while he's away." He stared down into the young man's face for a moment, then straightened to the suit's full height. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Now."

He backed away a step and Owen stood from the chair, his eyes downcast. Satisfied, Minion trooped across the floor toward the button that released the lock for the public door. If Owen thought he'd be leaving through the secret entrance again, he had another thing coming. In a way, for as angry as Minion was right now, he was actually glad this had happened. It meant they would have an excellent excuse to never have to tolerate the guy's presence ever again.

"Gee whiz, Minion," Owen's voice trailed after him. "I'm awfully sorry."

Minion stopped in his tracks. The tone of the young man's voice was strangely . . . cold. It didn't seem to fit the vacant pleasantries that normally came pouring out of his mouth. The statement was punctuated by a sharp click that echoed through the empty quiet of the lair. Minion wasn't sure why, but the sound sent a visceral shudder of dread through him, causing his fins to shiver.

The robot suit remained stationary and Minion turned around inside his bowl.

Owen hadn't moved from beside the chair. His previous sheepish expression had been replaced by a calculating sneer. At the end of a calm and steady arm, he leveled something at Minion - a small, simple revolver. The hammer had been pulled back.

"Owen?" Minion muttered. His eyes were wide as he stared at the young man.

Owen raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Wha-"

The sudden bark of the pistol shattered the silence, followed by the chillingly elegant high note of breaking glass. The sharp dissonance of a bullet that had done its job echoed through the bowels of the lair. A moment later, Minion's suit fell with a crash. Then everything was quiet.

"Now, if there will be no more interruptions," Owen mused coldly.

He turned back toward the database on the monitors, the blue light of the screens starkly illuminating his face.

To be continued . . .

Chapter 10: Cold and Warm, Dark and Light

Chapter Text

Chapter 10 - Cold and Warm, Dark and Light

Roxanne's workday had been interminable so far, and it was only half over. But at least, by the time she reached her afternoon break, she knew she only had a few more hours left to go.

Just a few hours to wait until Megamind's big evening plans - whatever those might be.

She caught herself blatantly grinning as she walked down Main Street. It felt a little silly but she couldn't help it. She gave in to it and permitted herself a moment of unabashed giddiness as she reached the Café Beanery and nudged the door open with her hip. She listened to the pleasant little tinkle of the wind chimes on the door as she rooted through her purse for her wallet.

On impulse, she glanced over to her usual table. She hadn't seen Wayne in several days - not since the day of the Metro Tower bombing - and she didn't like the way they had left things after their last conversation. She had hoped for the opportunity to offer him a real apology.

Roxanne froze just inside the entranceway.

Today, it seemed, was her lucky day - in more ways than one.

He was there. Finally back. Sitting at the table with a small smile on his face. Roxanne grinned and shook her head slightly. He also had two coffees waiting in front of him. She abandoned her search for her wallet, dropped her purse back over her shoulder, and walked toward him. She stopped beside the table and offered him a soft smile.

Before she could greet him further, Wayne held one of the cups toward her. "Flavored creamer, no extra sugar," he said.

Roxanne accepted the cup and felt her hands warm against it. "I was beginning to wonder if I drove you away," she replied, still smiling softly. "I had hoped not." She pulled the chair across from him out and settled down onto it. "Look, Wayne, about last time: I know I was probably out of line-"

"Please," he interrupted, raising a hand to stop her. "I came here to apologize. Think of the coffee as a peace offering. I also have a favor to ask."

Roxanne blinked at him. "Wayne," she said, "you don't have anything to-"

"Yes, I do," he gently interrupted her again. "I really do." He stared down at his drink for a moment and rolled the cup lightly back and forth between his hands. When he looked up at Roxanne again she noticed something off about his expression. He actually seemed . . . nervous.

"Roxanne," he finally began, "we're . . . friends, right?"

She looked at him as though she couldn't believe he would ask that. "Of course we are," she said.

Wayne nodded tensely. "That's good," he said. "That's really good. I'm glad." He shifted awkwardly in his chair and paused.

Roxanne waited. She desperately wanted to say something encouraging, but she didn't want to muscle in on whatever he was struggling with.

Finally Wayne released a miniature explosion of air from his mouth, followed by what sounded like the mockery of a laugh. He shook his head. "You know, this only goes to prove how much better I was with having fans than friends," he muttered off-handedly. At last, he met Roxanne's eyes again. "I guess I should apologize for that in advance too; I'm not really good at this."

Roxanne smiled at him sympathetically. "It's all right," she said.

"Okay," he continued. He said it as though he was prepping for a big announcement. Then he squared his shoulders and looked her full in the face. "Look, I know I've been dodging your suggestions that I see Megamind," he said. "I bet that's been frustrating. But I've actually had a reason for it."

Roxanne leaned slightly toward him against the table. "Oh?"

"Yeah," he answered. "It's kind of a stupid reason, but it's a reason. The fact is, Roxanne, I don't want to see Megamind. At all."

Roxanne sat back again. It was her turn to shift awkwardly in her chair. "Oh."

"That sounds awful, right?" he asked. A guilty, humorless smirk tugged at a corner of his lips. "I leave you both in the lurch last year, and then basically refuse to even speak to the guy now?" Wayne shook his head and cast his eyes down toward the table. "But it's like I said a few days ago: it's not really about him." He looked back up at her. "It's me, Roxanne. I'm . . ." He swallowed. "Believe it or not, just the idea of talking to him . . . well, let's just say it scares me a little."

For a moment, she could only blink at him in surprise. Roxanne replayed what he had just said to her several times in her mind before it finally, completely registered. When it did, she leaned toward him again, gazing at his face with concern. "But, Wayne-"

"I know," he said. "I know how that sounds. But I don't want to talk to Megamind because the thought of seeing him now . . . like this . . . when, let's face it, he has everything and I have nothing . . ." Wayne tugged on the lapels of his trenchcoat as if to illustrate his point, then let his hands drop back to the table. "Honestly? It's not a very appealing idea."

Roxanne reached forward with both hands, covering his very large ones as he held onto his coffee cup. It hadn't been that difficult to sniff out his apprehension when it came to the people of Metro City discovering his secret, but she'd had no idea he had felt this way about talking to Megamind. After all, Megamind already knew that Metro Man was alive. And since there were so few people who did, Roxanne had only assumed that Wayne would eventually welcome their company.

Superhero solidarity, after all.

The fact that Wayne had been purposely isolating himself . . . Roxanne just couldn't understand it.

But it didn't have to be that way.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea," she said gently. "I guess I was being really pushy then, huh?" She inched closer to him, perching on the very edge of her seat. "But, Wayne, if you're worried about him rejecting you, please don't. I know there's a part of him that has always admired you - even when you two were fighting. I mean, you were his one worthy adversary, right? And no one says you have to become best buddies right off the bat - things like that take time. But I know he would at least be receptive to talking with you. I know it."

Wayne gave her a sad smile and chuckled self-depreciatingly. "You know, in a way that's almost worse than a rejection," he said.

Roxanne's brow knitted in concerned confusion. "What do you mean?"

Wayne sighed. "I don't know how much he's told you about all the details of our history," he said. "If he hasn't, it's not really my place to tell you his part of it, but let's just say he didn't have the easiest time of things when we were kids. He wasn't made to feel very . . . welcome." Wayne shifted again. "And . . . I probably had something to do with that."

Roxanne's heart twisted. She had known at least part of that.

. . . None of the other kids really liked me . . .

Megamind had, indeed, mentioned some of the rather painful details about his past to her - the fact that he had been excluded, even bullied, as a child. It had taken some gentle coaxing on her part, but having him open up about some of the most difficult aspects of his past was certainly a testament to how much he had come to trust her. He hadn't gotten into many detailed specifics regarding Wayne's role in all that (though constantly referring to him as Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes certainly offered a hint), but to hear Wayne allude to having a hand in Megamind's early painful memories added a rather telling layer to their relationship.

"I probably could have made things easier for him," Wayne continued. "But I . . . I guess I didn't. In my defense, I was really young when we first met, but . . ." He shook his head. "I'd known I wanted to be a hero, even then. But a hero - a real one - would have probably stood up for him." Wayne glanced back down into his coffee cup. "If I go to him now, and he actually lets bygones be bygones . . ." He shrugged. "What does that say about who's the better man?"

Wayne shook his head and chuckled ruefully down at the table. "He didn't even tell anyone that I wasn't really dead this past year. He kept my secret," he muttered softly. "We fought for years, but he still kept it. He didn't have to." He stared past Roxanne toward the door of the café. "Apparently, it means the guy's better at losing and at winning than I am."

Roxanne had been listening attentively, careful not to interrupt with platitudes or false assurances. She might not be privy to all the gory details of the complete Wayne Scott/Megamind history, but if what she was hearing now was true, perhaps Wayne's guilty conscience was at least a little bit deserved. Part of her wanted to reassure him, but it simply wasn't her place to tell him everything was okay.

Of course, Megamind had made his own decisions about his life, too - and he was still dealing with the consequences of those choices. But a person can only be told they're "bad" so many times before they start believing it. No doubt, both men shouldered at least some of the blame for the way their little game had escalated. It was also clear that neither one of them was very good at seeing their relationship as anything more than a competition, even now. Getting past that would undoubtedly take time.

But this wasn't about who was the better hero, and it certainly wasn't about who was the better man. As Roxanne looked across the table at Wayne, she knew there was a difference between being remorseful over one's mistakes, and completely beating oneself up.

That, Wayne didn't deserve.

She gave his hands a gentle squeeze. "Okay," she said. "I get it, Wayne. I do." She gave a small huff of laughter. "You know, you two are probably more alike than you realize. Megamind takes things harder than he really should, too." She shook her head. "I hope someday you can get through this roadblock enough to want to see him, because I really believe it would do you both a world of good."

Wayne nodded. "How does today sound?"

Roxanne's eyes shot back up to Wayne's face. Her mouth worked wordlessly for a moment, then she squinted at him in confusion. "But I thought you just said-"

"That I don't want to see him," Wayne finished the sentence for her. "That's true, I don't. But I'm going to do it anyway, Roxanne. I . . . I need to." He offered her a small, almost bashful, smile. "Because I thought about something else you had said - about finding a little bravery of my own. I may be apprehensive about talking to Megamind for a number of reasons, but I'm also tired of hiding from him. Cowards hide, and that is something I definitely don't want to be."

Roxanne couldn't stop an enormous grin from spreading across her face. This really was turning out to be a very good day.

"And that's where the favor comes in," Wayne added. "I was hoping maybe I could convince you to be there. You know, when I talk to him. It might make it easier . . . to have a friend there."

Roxanne continued to beam at him. "Of course I will!" she said. "Nothing would make me happier than seeing you boys finally bury the hatchet." She smirked and added, "In something besides each others' heads, that is!"

Wayne laughed deep in his chest. "So, today?" he prompted.

"Well, tonight he and I have . . . plans," Roxanne informed him with a subtle duck of her head. "It's sort of a special occasion. But now is good." She smirked at him again. "How is now for you?"

Wayne's eyes widened. "Now, huh?" He fidgeted a little with his coffee cup, then raised it to take a large gulp. "Maybe I should finish this first," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist.

Roxanne giggled lightly. He really did look nervous now. "A little liquid courage, Metro Man?" she teased. "You may need something stronger."

"The day I find something that's actually strong enough to work, I'll let you know," he mused wryly. Then he gave her a sincere smile. "Yeah, I think now is just fine. I know you're on your break. Will you have enough time?"

But Roxanne never got the chance to answer. At that moment, an explosion rocked the building. Startled screams erupted from the people filling the café as they ducked for cover, ceramic cups smashed upon the floor, and a blinding shower of glass burst through the room as the large storefront windows shattered inward.

Megamind was smiling as he carefully removed the flowers from the passenger seat of the invisible car. He adjusted them in his arms as he closed the door behind him with a good, firm kick.

"Minion?" he called out as he took a few steps deeper into the lair. "I'm back!" He tugged gently on the tissue paper that was wrapped around the flower stalks to smooth out any wrinkles. "I'm sorry it took so long. Who would have thought it could be so complicated to aesthetically organize an arrangement of plant life? One would think working with something that grows out of the ground would be a simple matter."

As he took a step forward, his foot met the floor with a soft, wet-sounding splish. He glanced downward, to where he appeared to be standing in a puddle. Megamind wrinkled his nose at it then looked toward the ceiling. He co*cked his head a few times and squinted upward, holding out one hand to see if he could catch any telltale dripping.

"Seems we have a leak," he called out, his voice echoing through the lair. "Somewhere," he added in a grumble as he looked at the palm of his hand, which had remained conspicuously dry. He stepped out of the puddle and shook the excess water off the bottoms of his shoes. There would be time to deal with that later.

"Anyway," he resumed - loudly, so Minion (wherever he was) could hear, "the entire process was a bit more involved than I had anticipated. For instance, did you know that flowers apparently have their own language?"

He walked toward the monitors and gave them a cursory glance. The screens displayed the live feed from outside the lair. All was quiet at the moment.

"It's true!" he said. "Everything has a meaning. For instance, did you know that a rose of a certain color means both friendship and jealousy? Can you imagine that! So if you send someone a yellow rose, how is that person supposed to know if you envied them, or wanted to be friends?"

Megamind paused and wondered if, in hindsight, that said anything about his choice to bring yellow roses to the Metro Man Museum all those months ago. He wrinkled his nose. Of course not. Besides, he had just stolen those off a street cart; it wasn't as if he had actually given the choice any real thought.

"And what if that person doesn't even speak 'flower'?" he continued. "How does one convey their message properly?" Megamind shook his head and stepped away from the monitors. "It was all very complex. Then I learned that red roses mean love, which seemed perfect at first, but the very helpful flower-ist in the third shop said that roses were a very, very common choice. And you know the last thing I want is to be too predictable."

Megamind peeked into the alligators' pit, but it looked as though they had already been fed. Minion wasn't down there either.

"So I went with white tulips," he called out, walking back toward the inner portion of the lair. "They are unique and look quite impressive when grouped together, and the woman at the shop even showed me this wonderful spray that they use to dye the petals different colors. So I had her tint the very tips of the flowers blue." He shrugged. "I like them. Besides, Roxanne loves the park, which has a very large tulip garden in the spring . . ." He trailed off, crooking a finger thoughtfully against his chin. "Of course, she also used to visit that park with her mother. You don't think tulips would remind her of her mother, do you? That's not quite the message I had hoped to send." Megamind scowled as only silence answered him. "Minion, I could really use your input on this! Do you even hear me?"

He walked toward one of the lair's side rooms, just beside the monitors.

"Minion, are you even here, or am I just talking to my-"

He froze.

"-self."

There was Minion. Finally! But what was he doing? Megamind's brow furrowed as he scrutinized his friend. The suit was just lying there, prone - face-down on the floor. Was Minion looking for something? Megamind began to walk toward him.

"Minion?"

This was strange. Minion's suit actually looked powered-down. But he never did that in the middle of the day. Not when there were always so many things to do. And even when Minion did power-down, the suit usually remained upright. Reclining was unnecessary - the position of the suit made no difference to the fish inside the tank.

"Minion?"

Frustratingly, Minion didn't respond. That wasn't like him at all. Megamind began to feel an unsettling prickle against the back of his neck.

"Min-"

-splish-

The soft, wet sound beneath his feet halted him a second time - just as abruptly as if he'd hit a wall. The unsettling prickle on his neck intensified into a creeping, uncomfortable chill running down the entire length of his spine. Almost against his own volition, Megamind turned his hesitant gaze downward. He was standing in another puddle, staring into his own wide-eyed reflection.

Megamind slowly tilted his head to glance behind him. Some primal part of his brain pleaded with him not to look, but he did anyway. For the first time he noticed, not just two puddles, but an unmistakable trail of water - a lot of it - splotching the concrete floor of the lair. It began several feet from the monitors, and led all the way to . . . here.

Megamind tore his eyes away from the floor and raised his trembling gaze back to where his friend's suit was lying motionless several yards ahead. His blood ran cold. His heart hammered in his chest.

Realization slammed home.

". . . Minion . . ."

The world upended itself for a moment as the building around Roxanne shook. The cacophony of people screaming, ceramic mugs shattering on the floor, and the breaking of the glass windows seemed to sweep around her like a whirlwind. It all happened so quickly, she only had time to raise one arm to instinctively protect her face.

Though neither she nor Wayne had moved from where they sat, Roxanne felt his hand firmly grip her other wrist upon the table between them.

When everything settled and the world returned to its axis, Roxanne found herself staring at the gaping hole in the café's storefront. The city outside was clouded from view by a thick haze of swirling dust. An eerie silence hung in the air.

Roxanne cautiously stood up. She took a step toward the yawning opening near the entrance - only to feel a firm tug against her wrist. She glanced down at Wayne, who was eyeing her with a cautioning glare.

"Roxanne," he warned.

She would have argued with him if she'd had the time. In the next moment an enormous shadowy shape loomed through the dust outside the broken window. Roxanne directed her attention from Wayne toward the silent, approaching shadow.

When a long, robotic leg, ornamented with sharp spikes, stepped through the haze and into the café, Roxanne's heart skipped a beat in her chest. Her breath caught.

"Megamind?" she said, her voice small and disbelieving.

Wayne must have been shocked as well because his grip loosened and Roxanne's wrist slipped free.

Roxanne's eyes widened as more legs crawled into view and the unmistakable hulking frame of Megamind's spider-bot emerged through the thick dust. Something Minion had said not long ago flashed through her thoughts:

. . . The new stealth modifications on the spider-bot are working well . . .

Oh, god. She had never even heard it approach. She hadn't heard anything until the windows had exploded. And what was probably even scarier: neither, apparently, had Wayne. Roxanne continued to stare at the huge mechanical arachnid in horrified confusion, until the individual operating it pushed the safety harness off his shoulders and stood up in the seat.

Disbelief hit Roxanne like a sledgehammer. She narrowed her eyes at him and blinked.

It wasn't Megamind.

"Owen?"

At first, Owen's only reply was a noticeably smug grin as he struck a rather overly-dramatic pose from the driver's seat of the spider-bot. He rooted his fists to his hips and glared down at her with an air of self-importance. It wasn't until Roxanne blinked a second time that she actually noticed what he was now wearing. The young man's lanky body was swathed in a red spandex bodysuit - or, at least his torso was. His pants were a pair of black, multi-pocketed cargo trousers tucked into a pair of high black work-boots. The other trimmings of his ensemble - from his belt to his gloves to a cape that extended just a bit past the back of his waist - were also a matte black, and he had a pair of what looked like swimmer's goggles perched upon his forehead. His sandy hair curled haphazardly around the lenses. What caught Roxanne's eye most, however, was the beetle with the flame on its shell that emblazoned the front of his bodysuit.

"So, Ms. Ritchi," he drawled, raising an eyebrow, "we meet again."

As opening lines went, that was pretty unoriginal. Roxanne let out an incredulous noise that couldn't quite pass for laughter. Her hands settled on her hips as she glared at him.

"Owen . . . you?" she retorted dubiously. "You're the Beetle-Bomber?"

At that, Owen's entire body visibly bristled. His dramatic pose deflated a bit. "Seriously?" he asked. "That's what you came up with?"

Owen pointed sharply to the emblem on his chest with both hands. "Do you people not recognize a play on words when you see it?" He addressed the entire café, though he scowled directly at Roxanne as he spoke. "It's Fire Bug, okay? Fire-" he spat, pointing to the miniature flame on his outfit. "-Bug!" he concluded as he indicated the beetle. "You'd think the fact that I started all those fires would have made it obvious!"

The young man actually looked like he was sulking. Roxanne made an unimpressed face as she met his eyes again. She crossed her arms and fixed Owen with a stony glare. She wasn't afraid of this guy. For years, she had locked horns with Metro City's resident criminal genius - and she had held her own just fine. She could handle Megamind's fanboy.

"Well, technically," she replied, "you planted bombs." She shrugged. "If you're going to choose to be all cryptic about your identity, Owen, and wait for the public to guess, you might not have too much say about what name you get."

The young man's features went from sulking to venomous. "I told you," he snarled through gritted teeth. "The name . . . is Fire Bug!"

Out of the corner of her eye, Roxanne noticed most of the people in the café were cowering back from the unstable young intruder and the huge robotic spider. Some had ducked behind the counter, while others had hidden beneath tables. No doubt a few had taken refuge in the restrooms. Roxanne was the only one standing.

Roxanne arched an eyebrow at him, keeping her arms crossed challengingly and co*cking her weight to one foot. If she managed to stay calm and collected, it might help keep the other people around her from panicking. She took a bold step closer to Owen. "From the looks of things, we can probably find an even better name for you," she offered conversationally. "Like 'Parasite', maybe? The bomb gimmick is one thing, but there's something to be said for a villain who comes up with his own inventions, instead of stealing them from-"

Roxanne froze.

Wait a minute . . .

Her eyes widened and her cutting banter died on her lips. The spider-bot! Roxanne had been so relieved that Megamind hadn't been the one in the driver's seat, that she hadn't stopped to question why someone else was. If Owen had the spider-bot, that meant . . . he had somehow gotten it from the lair. Which meant-

Oh, God.

Owen's gloating smile returned in response to the change in Roxanne's demeanor. At her horrified expression, he rooted his fists back onto his hips and stared down his nose at her. He flashed her a revolting sneer. "You were saying, Ms. Ritchi?"

Roxanne glared up at him with a sudden fury in her eyes. "What did you do?" she demanded.

Owen barked with laughter. It was a high-pitched, straining sound. He shook his head. "If I were you, I'd be a little more concerned about what I'm going to do." He reached down into the bed of the spider-bot, hauled out an imposing ray gun, and trained it on her with both hands. "Don't you think?"

Roxanne's heart felt as though it had leapt into her throat as she stared down the muzzle of the large-barreled weapon. Over the years, she had spent quite a bit of time at the business end of many of Megamind's inventions, but they had never caused her to feel as uneasy as this one did right now. It spoke to the strange sort of trust she had had for her erstwhile kidnapper - even then.

This young man, however, was a different story.

Roxanne still managed to stand her ground against Owen. Her shoulders rose and fell heavily with every breath, but she was determined not to back down. Her fists clenched and unclenched at her sides. She had to keep her wits about her. "I wouldn't be so hasty with that," she warned him. "Some of them have a nasty tendency to backfire on the user." She was taking a slight gamble and she knew it. Owen was wielding a device that she didn't actually recognize from previous experience.

Owen, however, only shrugged. "Oh, I managed to do a little research while Megamind was out," he said. "Of course, his favorite damsel should be pretty familiar with all his stuff," he added with a casual shrug, hoisting the weapon in his hands. "Come on, Ms. Ritchi, you've probably seen most of these in action. Shrink ray, freeze ray, stun gun, mind control device . . ." He leered down at her again. "Tell me: What's this one do?"

Roxanne took a tentative step back. She swallowed hard. Owen was more unstable than she had thought; he was almost manic. She shook her head cautiously. "Can't say that I know, Owen," she replied, attempting to keep her voice calm and even.

Owen frowned again as she insisted on using his real name, but it was quickly replaced by another mad grin. "Oh," he said flatly. "Well, let's find out."

Roxanne didn't even have time to react before he fired.

The solid crack of an impact reverberated through the café. The world surrounding Roxanne spun out of focus. Several screams erupted around her, but Roxanne was conscious of very little else for several endless seconds. When awareness finally caught up with her again, she straightened her body. She didn't remember twisting away from the blast, though, apparently, she had. She lowered her hands from where they had reached up to instinctively shield her head.

As she faced forward again, her view of Owen was blocked by the broad expanse of a wide, muscular back. Her breath caught in her throat.

Wayne.

Roxanne gasped and stared wide-eyed, catching a glimpse of his profile. Wayne's expression was determined, focused, and unfaltering. His Intense Scowl of Justice was back - unmistakable, even beneath the shaggy hair that covered his face. But there was a tense throbbing in his jaw that Roxanne had never seen in the countless times he had rescued her in the past. His eyes, too, were different. They were overly-bright and, underneath the rekindled superhero façade, there was a flicker of something . . .

Fear.

Roxanne felt as though a cold clamp had gripped her heart as she stared at him.

But she knew it wasn't Owen he was afraid of.

Roxanne could practically feel every eye in the café on her - on him. The weight of those stares actually felt palpable, as did the unnatural silence that suddenly hung heavily in the air. In an instant, more than a year of deception was over. The moment Wayne had stepped in front of that blast, he had risked tarnishing Metro Man's golden legacy by publicly exposing his lie to a roomful of citizens.

And he had done it willingly . . . for her.

Wayne had doubted his ability to be a real hero because he had thought he could never truly be brave. Roxanne knew now that he couldn't have been more wrong.

"Oh, Wayne," she whispered.

A hushed silence continued to linger in the café for several more eternal moments. It was finally broken when one quiet, clear voice floated up from somewhere near the back of the room.

"M- Metro Man?"

A steady buzz of disbelieving exclamations followed as the people in the café actually began to realize what they were witnessing. No doubt several of them had even whipped out their camera phones by now.

Wayne, however, did not divert his attention from Owen. He remained every bit the focused superhero. Since there was no need for the disguise any longer, he shrugged himself out of the trenchcoat he had been wearing, tossed his hat aside, and crossed his arms over the broad barrel of his chest. The plain jeans, the simple, white t-shirt, the disheveled hair, and the scruffy jaw created a surreal image, but Wayne stood there impressively, as though he was somehow once again shrouded in the protective comfort of his usual, golden-trimmed ivory armor.

"I'm sorry, Fire Bug," he remarked to the young man before him. "Something tells me the lady isn't too hot to remain in your company." The quip came easily and he flashed his trademark smirk as he spoke, but, Roxanne noticed, Wayne's voice, like his expression, was tight and tense.

Roxanne finally tore her gaze away from Wayne and back to Owen. If it was even possible, her heart began to hammer even faster in her chest. The young man didn't look very surprised, or even scared - at least not for long. If anything, his face now looked positively ecstatic.

He began to laugh. It started low in his throat and developed into an eerie, high-pitched giggle. It was nothing like the villainous, diabolical laughter Megamind had honed over so many years, but it was enough to set Roxanne's teeth on edge.

"I knew it," Owen breathed. His eyes were bright and elated. "I mean, I wasn't completely sure, but . . ." He stabbed a finger pointedly into the air. "Still! I knew it! I knew it was something!" he crowed triumphantly. "This is turning out even more perfect than I could have planned!"

Wayne looked unimpressed by the young man's bluster. "Well, it seems those plans are about to go up in smoke," he said. He uncrossed his arms and pounded one fist into the opposite hand.

Owen smirked and traded the weapon in his hand for another he had stowed beside him in the spider-bot. He raised it to his shoulder. "Good thing I came prepared," he retorted.

This time Roxanne recognized the weapon immediately: the long, cylindrical chamber attached beneath the gun's barrel . . . the swirling, gaseous vapor inside . . . the memory of the raw power of a fiery explosion, frozen and suspended in time . . .

Her eyes widened.

. . . The paradox gun . . .

"No!" Roxanne shouted, almost automatically. "Wayne, wait!" She made a desperate lunge for his arm.

At the same moment, Wayne moved and Owen fired.

The beam hit Wayne in the shoulder as he twisted his body to shield Roxanne. She heard him grunt in confusion and watched as the translucent, milky substance immediately began to spread up and down the length of his left arm. It was enveloped quickly and he held the limb up to his face, staring at it in bewilderment. He tried to clench his fist closed, but seemed to struggle with the movement.

"Wha-" he grunted. "What is this?"

Roxanne looked on in horror as the boa plasma raced over Wayne's body. He met her eyes for a split second, then glanced down to where she was still tightly gripping his other arm. In the final moment before that was covered too, he shook her off, sending her stumbling back into her chair just as he crumpled to the floor.

Startled gasps and protests reverberated through the crowd in the café. Wayne's body was hunched over, and he struggled with the effort to raise himself. Just the simple lifting of his head looked arduous. Shakily, he raised a hand to his temple. He squinted.

Nothing.

He tried again.

Again, there was no reaction.

"I can't use my laser vision," he panted in disbelief. He raised his head to Owen, who was smiling with a ravenous look on his face. Wayne grimaced and attempted to fly at the young man, but didn't get more than a foot off the ground before he was dragged back down to the floor.

Roxanne stared, transfixed and horrified. Megamind's boa plasma had worked after all. Everything Wayne tried to do to break free was negated by the substance that trapped him. It was worse than having a weakness - the plasma used his own strength directly against him. Metro Man was truly helpless.

Owen pressed a button on the spider-bot's controls, opening a hatch and releasing a large claw from deep within its chassis. He aimed it at Wayne.

Roxanne started to climb back to her feet. She glanced to where her purse had spilled over when she had fallen into the chair. She clenched her jaw, reached inside quickly until she found what she needed, then clambered back to a standing position.

Owen made a display of snapping the claw closed and open. He leered down at Wayne, who scowled back at him in defiance. "Guess I'm going home with a prize," the young villain drawled.

Suddenly, Roxanne appeared. She positioned herself between Wayne and Owen, staring at the young man ferociously and raising her balled hands into fists. "If you want him," she spat, "you'll have to go through me."

"Roxanne!" Wayne protested at her back. "Don't!"

Owen, however, simply looked amused. "Wow, feisty," he chuckled. "But, don't worry. I wasn't planning to leave you out."

He pressed a button and the claw shot forward, clamping over her waist and dragging her off her feet. Roxanne cried out as she hurtled forward until she was face-to-face with Owen.

"It just wouldn't be the same without Roxanne Ritchi." He grinned.

Roxanne shot him a fierce scowl as she hung helplessly from the grip of the spider-bot.

Owen pressed a button and unceremoniously dumped her into the narrow space beside the driver's seat. He smirked at her as he added, "Now stay put while I grab your ex."

A moment later, Wayne was tossed into the space beside her. He attempted to raise himself to look at her. "Roxanne," he grunted. "You shouldn't have." Even speaking seemed laborious.

The spider-bot lurched into motion and began crawling out of the café.

Roxanne placed one hand on Wayne's arm, even though he probably couldn't feel it through the plasma. The cold, wet sensation against her fingers made her skin crawl.

"Don't worry," she whispered, hoping the substance didn't prevent him from hearing her. She glared at Owen's profile as he maneuvered the spider-bot out into the city, then she offered Wayne a wry smile and uncurled her other hand from its tightly clenched fist. There was a small, round mark affixed to her palm. The circuitry inside gave off a dim, pulsing shimmer of electric blue.

"Tracking devices may be against the Hero Code," she said, "but I have a feeling we can make an exception in this case."

She only prayed that Owen hadn't done something to prevent Megamind from following it.

He moved without thinking - dashing forward desperately, heedless of the flowers he had dropped and crushed underfoot as he ran. As he closed the distance between where he had been standing and his immobile friend, his massive brain had room for one thought, and one thought only:

. . . Minion . . . Please be all right, please be all right, please be all right . . .

Megamind dropped to his hands and knees and scrambled up the length of the robot suit, pulling himself level with the glass dome at the top.

It was drained. Empty.

. . . Oh, God, no . . .

The fish inside lay among the few remaining drops of water like a discarded tub toy. How long had he been like this? Megamind's thoughts raced desperately, trying to calculate just how long he had been gone. Minion's physiology enabled him to go without water for far longer than the aquatic life native to this planet, but the fact that he wasn't moving, he wasn't gasping, he wasn't struggling, he wasn't doing anything - it was not a good sign.

Megamind shot a frantic glance behind him at the water that trailed through the lair. What could have happened to cause such a horrible malfunction in the suit? And why hadn't Minion called him for help? There should have at least been plenty of time for that.

Megamind followed the macabre trail of water with his eyes - it spattered the floor like a grisly crime scene. Then he glanced toward the area ahead of him. A large industrial sink was affixed to the wall in this room. They rarely used it, but that must have been where Minion was headed when he . . . lost consciousness.

All other thoughts - all questions of why or how this had happened - receded to the furthest corners of Megamind's brain. Only one thing mattered: he needed to get Minion out of there. Now. The old sink on the wall ahead beckoned like a lifeline.

His first thought was of the flip-lid at the very top of the bowl. If he could remove it, perhaps he would be able to squeeze Minion out through the opening. Megamind scuttled up the suit and pressed his fingers against the revolving cap to release the hermetic seal. As it tilted open, he grabbed it firmly in his hand and tried to wrench the rotating hinges free of the dome. Even as he struggled with it, he knew it wasn't going to work; Megamind had originally installed the lid so Minion would easily be able to eat, but he hadn't wanted to risk Minion ever falling, or getting accidentally thrown, out. (Not when evil plans always seemed to have a habit of going unpredictably wrong.)

It wouldn't be possible to remove the lid by hand - he had made certain of that when he had designed it. He would need the right tools, but Megamind didn't know if Minion had that kind of time.

He needed to get the dome off completely.

But the suit was face-down, and the buttons to release the seal were on the chest underneath. With Minion unconscious-

. . . Not dead, not dead, please, God, not dead . . .

-he wasn't capable of establishing his link to the suit to help turn it over. And it was too heavy for Megamind to move by himself. But if there was a way to rouse Minion, to wake him up, even for a moment . . .

Instinctively, Megamind pounded on the glass of the tank with the flat of his hand. The glass was thick; he wouldn't be able to shatter it without significant force. But he knew Minion could feel the concussion that sort of pounding created. Maybe the loud echo and the vibrations inside the dome would be enough to revive him long enough to get him to raise the suit.

"Minion! Minion! MINION!"

Megamind yelled into the tank's speakers until he was hoarse. When the fish didn't respond, Megamind scrambled back around and gripped the robot's shoulder with both hands. He braced himself and pulled with all his might, trying desperately to turn the suit over himself. He let out a long, agonizing wail as he strained against the solid weight of it. Even without the water, the suit wouldn't budge. It wouldn't budge!

Megamind collapsed on top of it with a gasp. He screwed his eyes shut. This wasn't happening! How could this be happening?

Help me! Someone, help me, please!

Megamind raised his watch to his lips. The brainbots were scattered all over the city - patrolling, scanning Roxanne's apartment, keeping watch over the places that had been targeted by the bomber - but maybe . . . maybe there were still some close by.

"Brainbots," he rasped into the watch. "Help. Help me!"

Dead silence answered him. His mind reeled in panic, even as an overwhelming defeat began to settle in his heart. He buried his face in the synthetic fur of the suit. Then a series of soft bowgs could be heard approaching from the far corners of the lair. Three brainbots came to hover over him and Megamind raised his head.

He felt a cold rush upon his cheeks. (His face was wet. When had his face gotten wet?) He scrambled frantically backwards off the suit. "Turn him over," he commanded the 'bots. "Gently!" he added emphatically.

The brainbots did as instructed. Megamind's heart gave an agonized lurch as even the very careful movement still caused Minion's little body to roll and flop bonelessly within the confines of the empty glass dome. When the suit was turned over, Megamind dashed forward to punch frantically at the buttons just below the tank.

. . . Right, left, middle, middle, right . . .

The dome released with a hiss. The airtight seal opened and a few remaining drops of precious water escaped to leak down the robotic gorilla's chest. Megamind's hands trembled as he carefully reached inside and drew Minion out. In all the times Minion had purposely tricked Megamind - faked him out, "played possum" just to get him to smile-

. . . Classic Minion. Classic Minion . . .

-he had never looked or felt like this. He was completely limp, unresponsive. The long appendages of his bothria hung lifelessly beneath him and his skin was so very cold. Megamind swallowed. Minion's skin had always been cold, which was momentarily reassuring, but now it was also unnaturally dry - like delicate sandpaper.

"Minion," Megamind whispered.

He looked at the brainbots. "You!" he commanded the nearest one. "The sink! Turn it on, now!" As the 'bot sailed off ahead of him, Megamind gently cradled his friend's little body in the crook of his arm and ran. Water had begun pouring from the large faucet as he reached the sink, but as Megamind looked down, he saw that the drain had no plug.

Carefully - very carefully - he shifted Minion's weight from one arm to the other and shrugged himself out of the jacket of his navy blue suit.

"Hang on," he said to Minion as he struggled out of the sleeves. Please, hang on.

He balled the jacket up and jammed as much of the fabric as he could down tightly into the drain. The level of the water finally began to rise. Megamind reached forward and gently placed Minion beneath the surface.

He held him there as the water level rose up, first past his wrists, then past his elbows. Soon the arms of his dress shirt were completely saturated. Megamind stared at his friend through the ripples the running water created on the surface. He stroked one thumb lightly over the area between Minion's closed eyes.

"Minion?" he coaxed. His voice was a ragged whisper. "Come on. Come on. Please."

There was no reaction - no shudder of response. Not to the water, not to Megamind's touch, nor to his desperate pleas. There was nothing. Megamind let out an anguished cry and leaned forward into the sink, partially submerging himself as he pressed his forehead to Minion's beseechingly.

"Don't do this," he pleaded. "Please, Minion, don't." He screwed his eyes shut again, gritting his teeth as though he was in physical pain. "You can't leave me," he implored desperately. "I'll be all that's left."

When he couldn't stand it any longer, Megamind slumped to the floor beside the sink, though his hands still stretched upward and cradled his friend beneath the surface of the water. He stayed there as the liquid reached the brim and began to spill intermittently over the side, pooling around his knees.

Kneeling on the floor of the lair, with his head against the cold porcelain of the basin, Megamind wept. It was the first time since his childhood, but even then it had never been like this. It was a sort of crying he never would have imagined himself capable of - too horrible and too profound to produce any sound or even any tears. Noiseless sobs wracked his shuddering body, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and his mouth was open in a gaping, silent rictus of pain.

Megamind knew what it felt like to experience failure. But this . . .

This must be what it truly felt like to lose.

To be continued . . .

Chapter 11: Spiraling

Chapter Text

Chapter 11 - Spiraling

Well, she wasn't tied to a chair. But it wasn't a vast improvement either.

In fact, Owen hadn't given her anything to sit on at all - unless you counted the old, jungle-gym display in the corner, a climbing apparatus made to resemble a network of hollow logs and tree limbs.

At first, Roxanne had paced around the otherwise empty cell like a caged tigress, but after a while she resigned herself to sitting on the floor. She brushed her hand against the hard ground to clear away some of the dust and dirt - not that it helped much - and settled with her back against the one solid, concrete wall of the cage. There was a draft coming from an old steel door beside her which, when opened, likely led to an adjoining outside enclosure. There was a system of locks on it that looked as though they hadn't been opened in years. Roxanne turned her head away from the door and simply stared out through the thick iron bars that surrounded her on every other side.

The only thing that was keeping her from going completely stir-crazy right now was a passing comment Owen had made back at the café. Apparently, Megamind had not actually been in the lair when the young villain had stolen his equipment. Which meant that, as soon as Megamind discovered what had happened, he would waste no time coming to look for it - and for her as well. She clung to that one certainty, even as a nagging, apprehensive voice in the back of her mind wondered why he hadn't gotten here by now.

Roxanne opened the palm of her hand and stroked her fingertip lightly over the small, blue tracking device affixed there. Delicate, blue lines of intricate circuitry chased each other across its surface.

She realized that allowing herself to be kidnapped had been a risk. She knew next to nothing about Owen, and admittedly she hadn't thought far beyond trying to help Wayne, but she also knew this little chip on her skin would lead Megamind right to the person who had been terrorizing the city. Between Megamind's missing things and the signal being emitted by this device, Roxanne knew it was only a matter of time before he came crashing through the wall with an elaborate laser show set to a heavy metal soundtrack.

But time continued to pass. The fact that he hadn't arrived yet was a little worrying - enough to make her wonder if the tracking device was working properly. She had never used one of them before, but Megamind had told her all she had to do to activate it was press. And so she had - right before she had dangled herself as bait between Wayne and Owen.

Roxanne sighed heavily, tipping her head back slightly against the wall behind her. She tried not to let her mind venture into scary, uncertain places regarding the possible reasons for Megamind's delay. Instead, she looked down at the pulse of azure energy against her light skin again and focused on one thought:

He'll be here. She closed her eyes. Soon.

She opened her eyes and glanced around her, studying her surroundings for the umpteenth time since she had been brought here.

Most of the other cells lining the long hallway looked exactly like this one. And the entire room still smelled faintly of whatever animals had once lived here. Apparently, the ventilation system was as dated as the building.

The former Metro City Zoo, located in one of the older sections of the park, had been abandoned for a long time. It had closed years ago when the conditions (which consisted mainly of stark, barren, concrete and iron cages like this one) were deemed unfit to accommodate the animals. A new zoo was built just outside of town - a state-of-the-art facility with environments more closely resembling the animals' natural habitats.

Roxanne could still remember covering that story. Metro Man had been instrumental in relocating many of the animals. Footage of him sweeping across the sky with an elephant harness in each hand had replayed on KMCP for some time afterward.

After that, the old zoo had been closed, though it was never torn down. It had simply fallen into disrepair inside the park as the powers-that-be had attempted to decide what to do with it. There had been some talk a few years back about fixing it up for seasonal events, or for use in city fundraisers - perhaps as the site of a haunted attraction around Halloween. But the money required to improve the conditions proved to be too much, especially with the impending construction of the Metro Man Museum. Plans had been abandoned, and so was the zoo.

Though now, it seemed, someone had found a use for it.

Roxanne suddenly heard the high-pitched screeching of metal dragging against concrete. She glanced in the direction of the noise and scowled. Her captor was moving some things around a short distance down the hall. There was a large, retractable screen, which had been set up on a tripod, and a small projector on an old, rusty table. Owen was currently adjusting it by repositioning it in front of the screen over and over. Each time he slid the metal table across the floor, the shrill sound it made caused Roxanne's teeth to tingle uncomfortably.

Owen must have felt the weight of her eyes on him because his shoulders abruptly stiffened and he turned to look at her. He stood upright and brushed his gloved hands together, regarding her first, then the room around them. "So, you still haven't told me what you think."

Roxanne merely intensified her glare. She closed her fingers discreetly over the tracking device again.

"It's charming, Owen," she retorted. "If you like rat-infested cages and about a decade of dirt."

Owen frowned at her. However, he didn't seem nearly as fiercely bothered by her use of his first name as he had back at the café.

Well, she thought, he's minus an audience now.

A moment later Owen shrugged.

"I was pretty impressed with it, actually," he said in a bizarrely conversational tone, peering around at the other empty cages that filled the large main chamber of the old zoo. "I'm surprised it's never been used before, aren't you? I mean, it's spacious, it's got lots of cages . . ." He twiddled his fingers like spider legs. "And it gives off a creepy, tingly, super-villain vibe."

Roxanne scoffed and folded her arms across her chest. "You know, that tingling sensation could just be your body needing a few tetanus shots from being here too long," she quipped.

Owen glared at her with an odd, pouting expression. He squared his shoulders, then began striding the length of the cage-lined hallway toward her. He narrowed his eyes as he reached her cell. "Look," he said, his voice low, "I'm aware that it's a work in progress, but you could at least tell me what you think without being so snippy."

Roxanne raised an eyebrow at him from her seated position. Owen was making a very different impression now than he had in the café. The sudden disparity surprised her, but she wasn't about to reveal that to him. Instead she regarded her young captor suspiciously and said, "You're serious?"

Owen blinked at her. "Well, yeah," he replied. He made another shrugging motion with his arms that caused his waist-length cape to flare out slightly.

Roxanne finally stood up and approached the bars. "You mean you actually want to have a casual conversation about feedback with someone you tossed into a cage?" she asked incredulously.

Owen's face hardened and he scowled at her. "Excuse me for wanting an expert opinion," he retorted. "After all, nobody's been up close and personal with more villains than Roxanne Ritchi. I just wanted your impression, that's all."

Roxanne snorted. Honestly, was this kid trying to intimidate her or suck up to her? "Look," she drawled, crossing her arms again exasperatedly, "the last I checked, I wasn't exactly the Roger Ebert of villainy. And I know you didn't bring me all the way here just for a review. So why don't you tell me what you really want, Owen?"

Owen's scowl deepened. He waved his hands agitatedly in front of him. "No, you know what? Forget it!" he rambled. "And what did I tell you about my name? It's-"

"Fire Bug," Roxanne cut him off. "Yes, you've mentioned that." She groaned heavily. This young man was starting to seem less and less like a moustache-twirling, terroristic mastermind, and more like a tantrum-throwing teenager. Sure, he had put on a good show back at the café, but behind-the-scenes, the villainous façade was certainly cracking.

Roxanne narrowed her eyes at him. She may be able to use his agitation to her advantage.

She began slowly pacing the length of the cage, keeping her eyes locked on the young villain in the hallway. "You have to realize: it's not like this is my first kidnapping," she said. "The next time you want a performance review, you might be better off picking someone a little less jaded. 'Super-villain-show-and-tell' got old for me a long time ago."

Owen crossed his arms. He glowered at her. "Well, you don't exactly have a choice, Ms. Ritchi," he sneered, drawing himself up to his full height. "I'm the bad guy here, and you . . . you're my prisoner! That means you have to do what I say!" He fumbled with a few aspects of his costume, then pointedly crossed his arms again. "If you know what's good for you!"

He added a sharp nod to punctuate his statement.

Roxanne mimicked Owen's cross-armed stance as she stared back at him. "Look," she said. "I've been at this game for quite a while and you're right: I've seen my share of villains." She intensified her glare and looked him up and down. "Which is why I'm not afraid of a spandex-clad kid in swim goggles."

The young man scowled. His eyes crossed slightly as they swept upward in the direction of the protective eyewear perched on top of his forehead. "These aren't swim goggles!" he sniped. He pulled on the strap with both hands and settled the lenses over his eyes. He planted his fists on his hips and his chest puffed out a bit. "These are for my Fire Bug Vision," he informed her.

Roxanne merely blinked at him, and his posture deflated slightly.

"Well, they will be," he amended, "when I'm finished with them. I'm working on a set of 'fly-eyes'. You know, something that will let me see 360-degrees." He dramatically orbited his hands around his head to demonstrate. "The prototype isn't completely ready yet," he added. "These are just temporary." Owen slid the goggles back up onto his forehead and frowned at her before turning his face away abruptly. He continued to scowl as he looked absently down the hallway. "I was told it was a good design," he grumbled under his breath.

Roxanne co*cked her head at him, fixing him with a dry expression. Owen's behavior right now was . . . strange, to say the least. He was acting unsure of himself, jittery, even childish. It was so different from the way he had seemed earlier that afternoon. At the café, Owen had been manic and devious - a textbook villain, even. But now he was getting very easily flustered. Roxanne had to admit: the inconsistency in his behavior was actually alarming.

She supposed that Owen could have been working from a specific plan earlier - strategizing his debut meticulously. The café had been his first public appearance, after all, so of course he had probably scripted it down to the last detail. (Most of what he had said had been pretty standard and unoriginal, as far as villainous speeches went.) But there wasn't any way Owen could have possibly planned it well enough to account for every potential variable.

Like Wayne.

An unexpected appearance by Metro Man would have - should have - stopped even the most seasoned criminals in their tracks - let alone an amateur villain in the middle of his very first rampage. Even Roxanne had been shocked by Wayne's actions, and she had known he was there.

But Owen . . . he hadn't seemed surprised at all. He had actually seemed thrilled.

That had probably been the most alarming part of the entire encounter in the café. When an invincible (not to mention presumed-dead) superhero suddenly appears, primed for a butt-kicking, most villains - however diabolical - would have undoubtedly been shaking in their shoes. Owen, on the other hand, had acted like Metro Man's appearance was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

In the time that Roxanne had observed him since then, however, Owen's attitude had drastically changed.

Most villains, for instance, would have been reveling in a victory over a hero like Metro Man, even if it was a lucky break brought about by a stolen weapon. But as far as she could tell, Owen wasn't gloating about it. He hadn't even mentioned it at all.

What he had been doing was acting like a cat on a hot tin roof.

As soon as they had arrived here at the zoo, Owen had had the spider-bot dump Roxanne in this cell, but she hadn't seen what had happened to Wayne after that. She could only assume he was in some other part of the building, still encased in the boa plasma and locked inside a cage like this one. She couldn't help but feel frightened for him; he had probably never experienced being so helpless before.

Afterward, the brief glimpses Roxanne had caught of Owen flitting in and out of sight, bustling anxiously around, and continuously fussing with his equipment hinted at how rattled he had become. And now, as she was speaking to him, she was really starting to notice it.

This was the person who had terrorized the city with explosives for over a week?

Perhaps Owen's earlier adrenaline was simply wearing off. Or perhaps he was just naturally jumpy. But to the reporter, it felt like much more than that. Roxanne's instincts told her that something was going on - something he was very nervous about. Something had him spooked. And with Wayne effectively neutralized, it had to be something else.

If she could keep him talking, however, she might be able to find out what it was.

It would buy Megamind some time to get here. And maybe . . . maybe it could buy Wayne some time as well.

"Okay," Roxanne said. She held up one hand in a calming gesture, but kept the other hand with the tracking device folded closed against her body. "Fire Bug?"

Owen stiffened, blinked, and glanced back at her. His eyes were a bit wider and his expression seemed both surprised and suspicious. If nothing else, the fact that she had willingly called him by the villainous alias he had chosen for himself had gotten his attention.

Good.

"You know what? You're right," Roxanne said, as gently as she could. "And seeing as how I'm a captive audience here," she added, indicating the cell around her, "can I ask you a question?" She kept her voice as calm and reassuring as possible as she spoke; her captor was already agitated enough.

Owen turned his body back to face her. He co*cked his head noncommittally, but he didn't refuse. It encouraged Roxanne to continue. If there was one thing she knew about villains, it was their love of talking about themselves and their plans.

Roxanne reached forward and gripped the bars between them, still careful to keep the tracking device out of sight. "Why are you doing all this?" she asked. "Can you at least tell me that?"

For a moment Owen simply regarded her, as though he was completely analyzing the question and weighing her intentions. Then his nose wrinkled disdainfully, he stepped toward the bars, and he lowered his voice. "Look," he said, "I have to, okay? I don't have a choice."

Roxanne's brow furrowed as she looked at him. Then her eyes softened. "There's always a choice," she appealed solicitously. "If someone is forcing you to do this, I know we can help. You just have to-"

Owen cut her off with a sudden bark of humorless, rapid giggling - jarringly inappropriate laughter that sent a shiver down Roxanne's spine. He lifted his face to the ceiling and let it tumble out of him for a minute or two before looking back at her and shaking his head. His eyes were overly bright, and his face was set in a chilling, rictus grin.

"You really are a silver-lining kind of person, aren't you?" he said, his voice still laced with strained notes of mirthless, unsettling laughter. "Poor, dorky Owen Lowry has to be somebody else's puppet, right? 'Cause there's no way he could handle something like this on his own."

Roxanne was a bit taken aback at that. This was the second villain to say something similar to her.

. . . So, naïve, Roxie . . . You see the good in everybody, even when it's not there . . .

The words, coupled with the memory, left her momentarily shaken.

Owen shook his head at her again. "No, Ms. Ritchi, that's not it," he said. "No one else is forcing me to do this, but I still have to do it." He frowned and repeated, "I have to." Owen turned away from her and began to pace erratically around the hall in front of her cell.

Roxanne steeled herself again. Her expression hardened and her previous sympathy drained away. She gripped the bars tighter and glared at Owen as he stalked back and forth. "No, you don't," she reiterated, more sternly this time. "You don't have to! If you want to, you can stop all this-"

"It was just supposed to be between me and him," Owen mumbled absently, remnants of his nervous laughter still evident in his voice. He wasn't speaking directly to Roxanne any longer, but rambling indiscriminately. "Nobody else was supposed to be involved."

"Nobody else?" Roxanne cut in, her voice rising in accusation. "What about all those buildings you targeted? What about all the people in them? Were they just 'nobody' to you?"

Owen shot her a hardened sidelong glare. His lanky frame twitched tensely. "It wasn't about the buildings," he spat back. "Or the people. It was about the message!"

Roxanne scowled in response. "Oh, trust me, we got your message," she said. "It was easy to see that the buildings were all connected to Megamind. And we stopped your last two bombings when we discovered your pattern of targets from the cards you left behind. So I think we-"

"You keep saying 'we '!" Owen interrupted with an incredulous sneer. "Like the message was for you. But it had nothing to do with you! Nothing at all!" He turned his back to her again and resumed prowling the hallway in front of her cage. His hands reached for his head and fisted into the haphazard curls of his sandy hair.

Roxanne was getting more and more frustrated - not to mention nervous. The young man's anxiousness was reaching a frenzied peak, and now he wasn't making any sense at all. She nearly growled to herself as she, once again, tried to get him to focus.

"Fire Bug?" she called out to him. "Fire Bug, listen to me!"

He merely continued his previous rambling. Even using the name he preferred wasn't getting his attention.

"Owen!"

"It just got out of hand," he muttered darkly. "It didn't happen on purpose. It wasn't supposed to happen that way at all. But he didn't give me a choice."

Owen glanced up at Roxanne finally, as though pleading his case. He pointed randomly to a spot in the air behind him as though someone was standing there. "He didn't give me any other choice!" he insisted. "And then, I had to do something big. Otherwise . . ." He trailed off as his shoulders tensed, then shuddered. "This will help, though; it has to."

"Listen," Roxanne tried to plead with him. "You may not think you have a choice, but you really do. I told you: there's always a choice. But you have to make it now before things go too far."

"It's too late for that," Owen muttered lowly. "It wasn't on purpose." He shook his head. "It wasn't. But I can only make up for it if I do something big."

He was still rambling, but at least he had directly addressed something Roxanne had said. That meant he was hearing her. It gave her a small amount of encouragement to continue.

"If you try to do something too big, you're going to be in over your head," she warned earnestly. "You're not well, Owen. Megamind's coming; you have to know that. And if you try to fight him like this-"

"Fight him?" Owen spun to face her. His expression was actually a grimace of panic. "I never wanted to fight him! I don't want to fight him! I was just trying to help him!"

Roxanne froze. She blinked at him several times, speechless. They had all assumed from the beginning that whoever this "Beetle-Bomber" was, he was targeting all those locations because of a desire to engage the city's new hero in a sad*stic game of cat-and-mouse - to force an eventual confrontation.

"That was why I went there today," Owen's shaky voice interrupted her thoughts. "I just wanted to show him." Then he turned to her suddenly, fixing her with such an accusatory glare that it actually made Roxanne instinctively step back. "He needed to see . . . but it wasn't supposed to happen that way. I wouldn't have taken his things if I'd had another choice. But after what happened, I needed them. There was no other way."

"So you didn't go to Megamind's lair to steal his things," Roxanne pressed, trying to decipher his ramblings. The young man was spiraling out of control, and she needed to keep him focused if she was going to learn what this was really about. "What happened then, Owen? How did you know what to take?"

"I remember what I see," Owen mumbled with a shrug. "His database uses pictures, and I remember what I see."

The weapons database, Roxanne thought. The one Megamind had been making to catalogue everything. Owen must have been looking at it.

"That's how you learned to use the things you took?" she guessed. "You studied the schematics?"

"I just got distracted by it," he started to ramble again. "That wasn't what I went there to do, but I didn't think it would hurt to look. I thought I was alone, and it was so fascinating." Owen's eyes darkened and he scowled. "I even told him so. But he wouldn't have believed me anyway - he wouldn't have believed that I was just trying to help."

Roxanne's fingers clenched tighter around the iron bars. She could feel the outline of the tiny tracking device pressing against her palm. Owen kept talking in circles and she couldn't quite follow the chain of his thoughts. She pressed her forehead against the cold bars for a moment in frustration. Her heart was fluttering anxiously. She would need to change tactics if she hoped to get a clear story out of the unstable young man.

"You said you were trying to help Megamind," she said, looking back at Owen again. "Help him how?"

That got a reaction, but not one Roxanne had been expecting. Owen shot her a glare that was so venomous she recoiled, letting go of the bars as he advanced on her.

"You think I would tell you?" he spat. "You're the problem here, Ms. Ritchi. And the sooner he sees that, the better."

"What?" Roxanne asked. She stared back at him tensely, feeling suddenly helpless and exposed as he pinned her with his scathing eyes. Her fingers twitched at her sides, itching to grasp something with which to defend herself, but the bars between them were her only safeguards.

"You think I don't see you, but I do," he hissed at her. "I know. I've known for a while." Owen's face pinched into a hateful sneer. "And he will, too."

Roxanne swallowed. She met his eyes with as much nerve as she could muster. "Know what?"

Owen chortled darkly. "That's why I went there in the first place - to show him," he muttered, almost to himself again. "I knew he'd be angry, but eventually he'd see that I was just trying to help. I wasn't the one trying to twist him into something he'd always stood against. I wasn't the one trying to change him. With all those places gone, I thought it would help him to start over." Owen shuddered again. "I didn't mean to get distracted; I didn't know I wasn't alone."

His hands tightened into fists and quivered fitfully at his sides. "He would have tried to stop me, I could tell. He would have made me leave and not come back." Owen shook his head erratically. "I couldn't let that happen, or everything I did would have been for nothing."

He jammed his hands into his pockets, hunching over, looking as though he was curling in on himself. "What happened wasn't my fault."

Roxanne felt a chill creep steadily across her skin, even in the stuffy, stale air of the old zoo. "Owen?" she said softly.

"And now I need to make up for it," he murmured, staring at the ground. "But after what happened, it had to be something big. Eye for an eye." He looked up again and narrowed his eyes at her. "There was only one thing big enough to make it right. And I knew if I was right about you, Ms. Ritchi, you'd be the one to lead me to it." His body trembled a little, but he managed a mad smile. "And you did."

Roxanne's lips parted as realization dawned. Metro Man, she thought. That was the "something big". No wonder Owen had seemed so excited about Wayne's appearance in the café.

"Why?" she asked. Her mouth had gone dry. "Owen, what happened? Why would you need-?"

"God!" he interrupted in a shout. "Do you ever stop asking questions?"

Owen's body shook in violent agitation. He struggled to pull his hands out of his pockets - all elbows and wild gyrations, like an over-exaggerated pantomime. It might have been comical if the young man wasn't so clearly unhinged.

When he finally succeeded, Roxanne noticed something gripped tightly in his right fist - a small, pearl-handled revolver. The sight caused her to instinctively draw back away from him with a start.

"I told you, Ms. Ritchi," Owen said, grinding his words through his teeth, "I'm the villain here. So maybe you should start showing me some respect."

Roxanne pressed her back to the concrete wall behind her, eyes fixed unblinkingly on both Owen and the weapon. "Owen-"

The gun went off. A small chunk of old concrete exploded out of the wall, leaving a bloom of residual dust in its wake. Although the impact was far enough away from Roxanne, she still reflexively curled away from it with a scream of alarm, her hands automatically reaching to shield her head and face. A moment later, Roxanne blinked and cautiously looked back at Owen with wide, frightened eyes.

"I'm serious," he said, his voice quivering - but from fear or adrenaline, Roxanne couldn't tell which. "I didn't mean to do it before," he told her. "I really didn't. But I'll do it now." He adjusted the pistol's aim, moving it away from a random spot on the high wall and training it in her general direction instead. "It's not like I have anything else to lose."

Roxanne's blood felt as though it had turned to ice in her veins. Owen's threat echoed through her brain, but something about his rambling was beginning to click into place. Something was very, very wrong - she could feel it.

She only prayed that she was mistaken.

"Owen?" she risked asking in a soft breath. Her heart rate quickened. "What did you do?"

Owen's hand clenched around the handle of the gun so tightly that his entire arm quavered. Then his face suddenly split into a feverish grin and he giggled manically again. He withdrew the pistol and gestured randomly with it in a small flourish beside his temple.

"You know," he said, his voice casual, but still laced with mirthless, uncontained giggles, "that fish never liked me, anyway."

Roxanne's heart suddenly felt as though it had shuddered to a halt. Her wide gaze remained locked on the young man before her. He stared back for a moment, then he turned and began walking away from her down the hall, little spasms going through his tense shoulders as he went.

Roxanne rushed to the bars again, angling herself to keep her eyes on his retreating back. "Owen?" she breathed out, then fought to force more strength into her voice. "Owen!"

But Owen did not acknowledge her this time. Roxanne continued to stare in frozen horror down the length of the hallway, even long after the young man had vanished completely from sight. Eventually her knees gave out beneath her and she sank slowly to the dusty floor of her cage, her knuckles white against the heavy iron bars.

The lair was silent, except for the water continuing to thrum rhythmically from the faucet into the sink. Megamind could also hear it occasionally splash against the floor by his knees as the basin overflowed. The brainbots were still hovering somewhere above him as well, making small, intermittent noises, though none of them dared to approach him.

Megamind had no idea how long he had remained kneeling on the floor. It felt like hours. Though, realistically, it had probably only been a few minutes - he was just starting feel the tingle of pins and needles prickling through his folded muscles. He knew he should probably get up - he knew he should probably do a lot of things - but he seemed to lack both the willpower to move and the brainpower to send the appropriate message to his immobile legs.

He was also soaking wet and shivering from head to toe, but only a distant part of him even registered any of the discomfort. Truthfully, he didn't feel much of anything. Nor did he want to.

Eye-level with the side of the sink, Megamind stared vacantly at the dingy, colorless porcelain. He lost himself in the blankness of it - an empty, sterile void of white nothing consumed him.

. . . It's a vacuum, isn't it?. . .

Staring straight ahead helped to keep him from thinking. Thinking hurt anyway. There was something inherently blissful about being completely incognizant.

But, of course, that wouldn't last.

He blinked as a stream of water fell past his line of vision, splashing upon his face and breaking the spell of nothingness he had woven around himself. Then the thoughts began flooding in again . . .

Minion.

Megamind squeezed his eyes shut as painful awareness returned. His hands shifted in the water above him - blue skin slid against smooth scales. He knew that he couldn't stay here forever, but whether mental cognition had returned or not, he still couldn't seem to will himself to move - couldn't bear to tear himself away from his friend.

He wished Roxanne was here - desperately. But his body still refused to move from this position - not even to make an effort to contact her.

Minion would be all alone if I left.

Absently, Megamind recalled that he was still wearing the formal suit that Minion had warned him not to ruin. He winced at the thought. No doubt, Minion would have been very disappointed with him, because that was precisely what he had done - at least as far as tonight was concerned. The dress shirt was soaked through to his skin, as were the legs of the trousers, and the suit jacket was currently stuffed down into the sink's old drain. Megamind could feel a slight, rhythmic brushing against his wrist where the excess fabric must have been floating up toward the surface. A piece of it, possibly one of the sleeves, was tickling against his skin over and over.

Megamind pressed his head against the cold outer surface of the sink. He closed his eyes again. He was emotionally spent; he had no energy left. He just wanted this nightmare to end, but he couldn't figure out how to wake up from it.

So instead, he tried once again to shut his mind down - to attain that thoughtless void where nothing hurt.

The water steadily churned from the constantly running faucet, moving in little spiraling eddies of current. Megamind focused on the rhythmic stroking the sleeve of the suit jacket continued to make against his skin. The touches were light and soothing - gently lulling him, once again, into a blissful, incognizant trance. By the time the water had caused the fabric to drift lazily around his wrist, Megamind had wrapped numbness around him like a cocoon once more.

A sudden squeeze jolted him out of his self-induced stupor and his head jerked immediately upright.

For a moment, Megamind didn't move - he didn't breathe. The sensation had been slight, phantom-like, and faraway. But it was enough to catapult him back to himself - like the sudden, swift spasm that occasionally ejects a person out of the beginning stages of sleep. Megamind remained like a statue on the floor of the lair - his heart suddenly thundering in his chest.

When the gentle, deliberate pressure came a second time, he knew he hadn't imagined it. It was unmistakable, and Megamind didn't hesitate. He flew to his feet, completely disregarding the sharp, painful daggers in his leg muscles as he moved. Water splashed everywhere, but he was still careful to keep his hands steady beneath the surface. He peered desperately into the sink.

. . . Directly into a pair of weary, lidded brown eyes.

Megamind gasped.

Minion scrunched his eyes shut again before blinking them open a second time. "Sir?" he asked weakly. "What were you doing on the floor?"

Megamind remained frozen where he stood - wide-eyed and rigid - for another moment. Then he surged forward, a desperate cry on his lips, and he pressed his forehead to Minion's once more. Water sloshed in a wave over the side of the sink. Megamind's body began to tremble again as he squeezed his eyes shut and clutched his friend tightly, but gently, against him.

"Minion," he gasped. "You're alive."

They stayed that way for several long moments. When Megamind finally pulled back, dripping from being partially submerged in the water a second time, he glanced down to confirm that it was not the suit sleeve that had wrapped around his wrist at all. One of Minion's three elongated bothria had coiled around him in a loose spiral. Megamind felt yet another limp bit of pressure from the appendage before Minion finally unraveled it.

Megamind cast about for a moment, looking in several different directions before he finally settled his gaze upon the brainbots. "Turn it off," he ordered. "And get the bowl." One of the 'bots descended and twisted the sink's valve, finally halting the flow of water. Another flew off immediately toward a different part of the lair. Then Megamind faced Minion again.

He attempted to swallow past a thick mass that seemed to be stuck in his throat. "Are you . . . are you all right?" he asked. His voice was tight and quiet.

Minion's body managed to bob up and down slightly in a weary nod. "Better now," he replied. "Thank you, sir."

The brainbot returned quickly and hovered beside Megamind's shoulder. It was carrying a clear, spherical orb. Megamind glanced briefly from the 'bot back to Minion. "Will you be okay if I let go for a second?"

Minion nodded again in response. "I think so, yes, sir."

Slowly and carefully, Megamind moved his hands away from Minion's body, allowing the fish to float on his own. When he was certain Minion would be able to stay upright without help, he turned and grasped the globe the brainbot had brought. It was Minion's original habitat, but it would do for now - at least until Megamind figured out what had caused the robotic suit to fail. He opened the globe along a nearly imperceptible seam and lowered it into the water. Then he closed it securely around Minion and drew him out of the sink.

For a moment, Megamind simply stood there, clutching the sphere tightly against his chest. The cold, inanimate surface of the glass was hardly a suitable substitute for the reassuring sensation of Minion's body against him, but he knew that the globe would help Minion recover much more quickly than simply being in the sink. The technology for the old habitat included a filtration system in its membrane; it didn't work as quickly as the one Megamind had designed for the suit, but it would help.

Megamind took a deep, shuddering breath in and out, then looked down as he drew the sphere away from his body. "I'm sorry it's just tap water," he said. "It'll clear up soon."

"It's fine, sir," Minion replied with a weary smile. "Better than none, right?"

But Megamind winced at that. "Don't joke," he muttered. There was a hint of bitterness in his tone. He glanced away from his friend, avoiding his eyes as he quietly added, "I'm so sorry."

Minion was taken aback for a moment, then he frowned. When he spoke, his voice was stronger than before. "Sir?" he asked as he drew himself up inside the globe. "You don't think you did this, do you? No, sir, it was-"

"I thought I lost you," Megamind interrupted. He finally managed to meet his friend's eyes, but looked away again quickly. "Minion, I thought you were . . . I thought you-"

He pressed his eyes tightly shut again, unable to even formulate the words for what he had thought. He shook his head as he opened them again, staring at the floor. "I should have been here. Why didn't you call me when the suit malfunctioned?"

Minion stared at him. His expression still looked a little glazed, but suddenly there was an unmistakable flash of realization in his eyes.

"The suit didn't malfunction, sir," Minion replied. His voice was steady and resolute. "Not at all. You didn't do this." He looked insistently at his friend and master. "It was Owen."

Megamind stiffened. He slowly turned his gaze back to Minion. ". . . What?"

"I caught him in here," Minion explained. "He'd found the secret entrance and was snooping through the database. I tried to throw him out, but . . . He surprised me. I'm sorry, I- I didn't expect-"

But Megamind was already moving. With Minion tucked securely into the crook of his arm, he hurried back to where the downed suit lay. Gently, he placed Minion's globe on the floor beside it and stooped to inspect the tank.

At first there didn't seem to be anything wrong with it. Megamind placed his hand against the glass and the dome shifted slightly on its rear hinge. When it did, there was a tripping, metallic rattle - like a loose bolt tumbling around inside. As Megamind peered into the glass to try to spot what had made the noise, his attention was caught by what looked like a thin, silvery line on the opposite side of the tank.

Megamind's stomach turned. He hadn't seen it before; he had been far too panicked to notice before. His wide eyes stared through the tank to the glass surface on the other side. What, at first, had appeared to be a single thin crack led down to a cluster of others - like a silvery starburst upon the glass. Megamind's eyes continued to follow the hairline fractures to a point near the base of the tank.

There was a hole there - small, but unmistakable.

It probably wasn't much larger than the tip of his finger, but it looked positively enormous when magnified through the layers of thick glass. Megamind quickly disassembled the hinge and removed the entire dome from the robot body. He flipped it to the other side to examine it. As he did, he heard more staccato rattling.

Something tumbled out of the opening beneath the dome. It bumped against Megamind's leg and rolled to the floor with a plink. Megamind glanced down at the small, cylindrical stump of metal which had come to rest beside his thigh, then turned his horrified eyes back to the rear surface of the tank, where he could now see the nearly perfect circle that had punctured cleanly through one section of the thick glass. He raised his finger slowly to trace it.

"I didn't know what he was doing until it was too late," Minion said.

Megamind only partially registered the words. His horrified expression hardened into a fierce glare as he continued to stare at the hole in the tank. Megamind then reached down to pick up the small piece of metal that had landed beside him. It was surprisingly heavy for its tiny size. His eyes darkened. His hand clenched around it into a fist so tight that it trembled.

"This is a bullet."

"When it hit the glass it was so loud, it felt like an explosion in my head; I must have blacked out at first."

"He shot you?"

"When I came around, he was gone, but so was most of the water. I don't know how long it had been like that."

"Owen did this?"

"It must have been a while, because I couldn't focus. I couldn't even manage to send more than one command at a time to the suit's receptors. I thought if I could make it to the sink-"

"Why? Why would he-?"

"-but I couldn't clear my head enough to make the suit stand. So I tried to drag myself there instead, but . . ." Minion shuddered. "I guess I didn't make it. If you hadn't come-"

Megamind turned his gaze down to where the fish sat on the floor beside him. Images of Minion's unconscious form, trapped and drowning inside his punctured habitat, stabbed into his brain like the blade of a knife.

"He could have killed you," he said breathlessly.

"I'm sorry, sir," Minion said. "I knew there was something about him that I didn't like, but I thought it was just because he was annoying. I should have noticed there was something really wrong with him a lot sooner. If I had, maybe-"

"Don't," Megamind stopped him. "Don't do that." He shook his head slowly; his expression was shadowed. "This . . ." he said, ". . . this wasn't your fault."

Megamind's gaze returned to his tightened fist and Minion shifted inside his bowl. He was about to respond when Megamind picked him up again and began striding toward the monitors.

"I want to see what he looked at," he said determinedly.

He placed Minion's globe on the table beside some of the evidence they had gathered against the bomber. He also put down the expended bullet. As he did so, he spared a cursory glance for the items assembled there.

Everything was as he had left it earlier: The remains from the detonation at the museum were carefully laid out. So was the Beetle-Bomber's card that the brainbots had brought back. It was leaning against Owen's abandoned blueprint. Seeing the roll of paper caused Megamind's vision to go momentarily red, and he nearly reached out to tear the thing to shreds. The plasma-encased bomb from the prison was still there as well.

Wait.

Megamind straightened. His brow furrowed as his eyes tightened their focus upon the objects on the table. Then he suddenly turned and glanced across the room to the information scattered along the idea wall. He changed from his initial path to the monitors and took a slow step toward the dangling paper instead.

"Sir?" Minion called from behind him. While confined in his old globe, he was trapped on the table. He angled his head to try to see what Megamind was looking at. "Sir, what is it?"

Megamind stared at the gently swaying cards they had collected from all the Beetle-Bomber's attacks so far. He counted them off in his mind, matching them to each target:

The restaurant, Metro Tower, City Hall, the apartment, the museum . . . one, two, three, four, . . . five.

There were five cards on the ceiling. Minion must have hung the one from the museum with the others. There was one still trapped inside the boa plasma.

From the prison.

That made six - one for each attack.

He turned back toward the table, a cold tingle sweeping over his skin. The card propped against the blueprint Owen had left behind days ago . . . was number seven.

Again, his stomach lurched.

"It's him," Megamind breathed. He stared for a moment longer, then his eyes narrowed darkly.

"Sir?" Minion asked as Megamind charged back toward the table.

Before answering, he turned to the brainbots that were still hovering overhead. "Sweep the lair," he ordered. "Now. Make sure he hasn't left us any more . . . surprises."

As they sped off, Minion gaped at Megamind. "Sir, you think-?"

"I don't think. I know." Megamind scowled. "This . . . all of this . . ." He gestured toward the evidence on the table. "It was him."

"He's the one who planted all those explosives?" Minion gasped. "Owen?"

"All this time," Megamind muttered with a snarl. His eyes fell upon the blueprint again and he snatched it up, crunching it across the middle in his fist. "That scrawny, two-faced, manipu-late-ive, little pyromaniac!" He was tempted once again to shred the paper, but stopped abruptly.

Why was it still here? Owen had come and gone - and left it behind again. He'd even propped the newest card up against it. Why-?

Megamind placed the blueprint back on the table and swatted it open with the back of his hand. The spool of paper unrolled across the table's surface and Megamind finally looked at it carefully.

It was nonsense - just as it had been the last time he had seen it. It was ridiculous. It was a jumbled, incohesive mess. It looked like nothing more than a combination of countless random lines, arcs, angles, and circles, precisely drawn but haphazardly situated across the page. Owen had led him to believe it was a plan for some sort of undeveloped invention - like that sketch the young man had shown him several weeks ago for a ridiculous set of panoramic goggles. But unlike that previous creation, this diagram was so childishly cluttered Megamind couldn't even tell what it was supposed to be.

But maybe . . . He narrowed his eyes. . . . maybe that was the point.

Megamind stared at the image like it was an autostereogram, focusing intensely on every aspect of it at once. The random arcs, the crisscrossing lines, the numerous angles, the intersecting spirals, the nonsensical equations lining the margins. There was nothing real there.

Until, suddenly, there was.

Hidden among all the zigzagging, intersecting lines that snaked across the page . . . was the now-familiar image of the flame.

Megamind's eyes widened. It felt as though he had been punched in the gut. He hadn't seen it. He hadn't even looked. He'd simply written Owen's efforts off as insignificant child's play. Granted, he'd had no way of realizing the blueprint's importance at the time, but if he had just looked at it, something may have registered in his mind - something about the whole Beetle-Bomber case may have sparked sooner.

And Minion wouldn't have been hurt.

Megamind winced.

Owen had even tried to get him to look at it! Twice.

Megamind's hand curled, his fingertips digging into the blueprint paper and dragging it inward until it was nearly crumpled in his fist. Then he stopped, blinked, and smoothed it out again. He'd made the mistake of not giving it enough attention before. He wasn't going to make that same mistake again.

He examined the area where the flame had materialized on the page. The entire effect was a rather rudimentary optical trick, and it was actually very easy to see the flame's image now that he knew where it was. No doubt many of the other lines and figures drawn onto the paper were merely for misdirection and camouflage, but there could still be more here that was of importance.

Megamind squinted, hunching over the surface of the table. Based on what they had learned so far, the flame was more than just a symbol on a calling card; it was also meant to encompass a particular area of the city, which would mean that everything around it could also represent points on a scaled-down map.

As Megamind studied the interior of the flame, he noticed that several of the lines crisscrossing within it seemed to intersect very deliberately in one location. He needed to know exactly where that was.

"I need to see the grid of the city," he said. Then he glanced downward. Minion's eyes looked up at him helplessly from the table. The fish was still encapsulated in his sphere; he couldn't physically do anything to help.

Megamind gave his head a quick, reproachful shake. "Sorry," he muttered. Picking up the globe with Minion inside, he made his way over to the monitors.

A blinking, blue light pulsed insistently on the main control panel. It hadn't been doing that before.

"Sir!" Minion must have seen it, too.

Megamind quickly set Minion's globe on a level section of the console and furiously began twisting dials to call up the city map. He pushed a button just below the blinking light, causing a glowing point to materialize directly onto the grid. When Megamind added the superimposed image of the flame he had created the other day, the little light pulsed like a small heartbeat right in the middle of it.

The color drained from Megamind's face until his blue complexion turned almost ashen.

"Roxanne," he breathed.

Minion's eyes widened, and Megamind braced himself against the console. That light was definitely the signal from one of the tracking devices he had given to Roxanne a few months back. Considering how long she had spent as Megamind's frequent hostage, the irony of the gift had certainly not been lost on her, and she had gotten a good laugh out of it at the time. They all had. But Megamind had still wanted her to have them. He knew how villains thought, after all. In the end, she had humored him and kept them in her purse, though she had never used any of them before.

But after what Owen had done to all those buildings, and especially after what had happened here today, the fact that one of the beacons had suddenly been activated sent a stab of fear through Megamind.

"Maybe it's not him," Minion offered, reassuringly but hesitantly. "It could be something else." Even as he said them, though, the words rang hollow.

Megamind shook his head grimly. "There's an image of the flame hidden on the blueprint," he replied. "It's got a deliberate intersection drawn inside it. The locations match up." He tried to swallow, but his throat felt closed off. "He's got her, Minion. Somewhere in the park."

Minion opened his mouth to respond, when the three brainbots returned again. Megamind shook himself into action and quickly established a comlink through the control panel. Their report streamed across one of the side-monitors: no further explosives had been detected in the lair. While that, itself, was good news, it only solidified that Owen had had other reasons for coming here.

Megamind tried not to think of the robotic suit, lying still and silent across the room.

He moved to another section of screens and finally cued up the computer's history file to see a log of whatever Owen had managed to access. Megamind needed to know what he was up against.

Both he and Minion stared at the results. Owen had, apparently, viewed many of the items in the Weapons of Justice Database. With the flip of a few switches, Megamind transmitted the list through the comlink back to the brainbots.

"See if any of these are missing," he ordered them, and the robots sped off again.

It wasn't long before he had his answer: three pieces of equipment were no longer accounted for in the lair.

"The spider-bot's gone?" Minion said apprehensively.

Megamind scowled. That had the potential to be a real problem. Even more alarming, however, was that the paradox gun seemed to be missing as well. After learning more about what that particular weapon was capable of at the prison yesterday, Megamind could only imagine the prospective damage it could do in the wrong hands.

As he looked at the third missing item, Megamind raised an eyebrow. "He took the sonic cannon, too?"

Considering the other, far more lethal, weapons in the lair, that one was a strange choice. Granted, it was very intimidating to look at, and it emitted a palpable wave of energy with enough force to push a large man off his feet, but it wasn't actually dangerous. At worst, it knocked people over and made a lot of noise. Its main purpose had always been showmanship.

But if Owen had taken these things, he must have had his reasons for doing so. And after everything the young man had already done, Megamind did not want to imagine what those reasons might be.

For a moment, Megamind simply stared at the screens laid out before him, feeling bombarded, overwhelmed, and more furious than he'd ever felt in his life. He thought of all the buildings that had been targeted by the bomber - by Owen. That two-faced liar had actually grinned vapidly at Megamind in this very room only a few short days ago. He had probably remote-detonated the explosive at City Hall from here, too.

All those places that had been lost, and the places - the lives - that could have been lost because of what the young man had done. All the anonymous citizens Megamind was now sworn to protect, all the people at the prison who truly meant something to him . . .

. . . Even his best friend.

Megamind looked down at the sphere beside him. Minion still seemed slightly pale - at least as pale as a fish can look. Then he turned his head to stare at the pulsing beacon on the monitor.

And now Roxanne.

Megamind's jaw tightened and throbbed, and his fists clenched as he leaned against them upon the monitor console.

Owen had done this. All of this. Megamind recalled all the occasions when he had permitted the young man to visit the lair - often for uncomfortably long periods of time. He may not have relished Owen's company, but he had offered him nothing short of friendliness. It was far more than had ever been offered to Megamind when he had been young and looking for approval.

Besides, showing compassion was what heroes were supposed to do, wasn't it? And the ones for whom you showed compassion weren't supposed to turn around and try to destroy the things you loved. That wasn't how it was meant to happen.

Megamind already knew what it was like to lose everything. However, the first time it had happened, the cruel force that had taken away his family and his home had been the gravitational collapse of a dying star. His options for revenge had been few and futile.

But Owen? That was decidedly different. That was something he could rage against.

Megamind grit his teeth. A white-hot fury lanced through his brain. Owen Lowry was going to pay for this.

"I'm going after him." Megamind pushed away from the console. He yanked his soaking wet tie open and loosened the top buttons of the waterlogged shirt that still clung to him like a second skin. He strode purposefully across the floor of the lair.

"Yes, sir!" Minion called from behind him. He glanced up at one of the hovering brainbots. "I need a new tank for the suit right away," he ordered, and it sped off to comply.

"Override."

The brainbot stopped where it was.

Minion froze and stared at his friend. Megamind turned back to face him.

"Sir?" Minion asked in hesitant confusion. "What . . . what are you doing?"

Megamind fixed Minion with an impassive glare. "You're not coming."

Minion's eyes went impossibly wide. "Not . . . what? What do you mean? Of course I'm coming with you!"

"After what happened?" Megamind countered. "Out of the question."

"No, sir, I'm fine now. Really!" Minion insisted adamantly. He tried to push the globe forward in his resolve, but if he got any closer to the edge of the control panel, he'd roll off. "And there's nothing wrong with the suit. It's fully functional; it just needs another tank. I can-"

"No!" Megamind advanced on Minion. His eyes were steely as he leaned down to his friend's level. "After what he did to you, I'm not letting him anywhere near you again." He straightened. "Or anyone else I care about . . . ever."

Something about the unusually dark tone in Megamind's voice caused Minion to pull back within his globe. Something was wrong. Frighteningly wrong.

"Sir?" Minion said. His voice sounded very small all of a sudden. "What are you saying?"

Megamind's eyes were practically burning; the over-bright jade flashed. "I'm saying that Owen Lowry is going to pay for everything he's done," he replied. "To the people of Metrocity, to you . . . And if he so much as touches a hair on Roxanne's head . . ." He trailed off briefly, then he steadily met Minion's eyes. "I'm saying that I'm going to find him, and when I do . . . I'm going to end him."

Minion blinked. At first he simply stared, as though he was processing one of Megamind's overly elaborate plans, or attempting to decipher a haphazard new arrangement of notes on the ceiling. Megamind's words lingered in the troubling quiet that suddenly hung in the air between them.

Minion blinked again. "Sir," he murmured softly. "You can't mean-"

"What?" Megamind snapped. "Was I speaking in code?"

Minion physically recoiled. Not because Megamind had become so sharp with him - which had been known to occasionally happen - but because he actually sounded as though he meant what he had said. Literally.

"Sir-" Minion said, trying to force strength back into his voice. He swallowed and forged ahead. "Just think about what you're saying."

Megamind's body was as taut as a drawn bowstring. His entire thin frame quivered. "Think about what, exactly?" he replied. Even his voice seemed to shake from the tension in his body. "That man targeted places that were linked to me, and he went after people that I . . ." He blinked. ". . . that I love."

He pointed across the floor to the empty shell of the robotic suit. "He could have killed you, Minion," he said. "And he has Roxanne." His fists clenched tightly as he dropped them to his sides. "I'd say I'm done thinking."

"But you have to, sir," Minion persisted. "You can't go in there muscles-blazing like Metro Man. Owen left a card; he has to realize you'll figure it all out. That means he'll be waiting for you - with your own weapons. You need to-"

Megamind sneered. "Minion, the only thing I need to do is go to where he's holding Roxanne, look that contemptible liar in the eye, and then tear him to pieces."

"Sir!" Minion pleaded, aghast. This time the fish did move forward in his globe, balancing it precariously on the very edge of the console. "Sir, please . . . I know you don't want to hear this, but please take a step back and think!"

"There's nothing to think about!" Megamind shouted, advancing abruptly.

Minion flinched back in alarm.

"I thought you had died!" Megamind cried out desperately. He was immediately crouching back down to Minion's level. His voice shook, his eyes glistened, and his hands trembled as he clutched both sides of the globe, looking directly into his friend's face. "I thought you were gone! Do you know what it would have done to me if that had happened, Minion? Do you know how lost I would be without you?"

The raw emotion in Megamind's declaration caught Minion by surprise. His own words suddenly failed him. It was almost as though his best friend was breaking right before his eyes, and Minion had never felt so helpless.

"He left you suffocating on the floor of the lair," Megamind said. "I was a villain for most of my life, and I still can't even begin to fathom that kind of evil." He stood back up again and narrowed his eyes as he lowered his voice to a growl. "And now he has Roxanne."

"I know, sir," Minion floundered. "I know, but listen-"

"I was going to confess my love to her tonight, Minion. If he takes her away from me, like he almost did to you-"

"We can stop him, sir," Minion countered. "I know we can! But you need to focus. Ms. Ritchi needs you to focus. Remember how it used to be with Metro Man." Minion looked imploringly upward at Megamind. "He'd walk into our traps all the time, but he always knew what to do when-"

Minion's train of thought was abruptly cut off as Megamind's shoulders began to tremble. His green eyes closed, his face contorted. He looked as though he was having a convulsion. And then, suddenly . . . he was laughing.

"Sir?"

Megamind wrapped his arms around himself as the sudden fit of laughter died. His face remained twisted into a humorless grin - more like a grimace of pain than a smile. He shook his head and finally opened his eyes.

"Metro Man?" Megamind mused, his voice still colored with traces of unsettling laughter. "Weren't you the one who said I needed to stop trying to be so much like Metro Man? That I should do all of this my own way?" he asked darkly, clenching his fists at his sides once more. "Maybe this is my way."

"No!" Minion countered desperately. "I know you better than anyone! And I know you're a hero! You just need to clear your head and remember that!"

"I'm not feeling very heroic right now, Minion." Megamind snarled. "You think I'm going to let Owen just get away with-"

Minion pulled himself up fiercely within the sphere. "This isn't about Owen!" he countered sharply. "This is about you! Looking out for you is the most important thing in my entire life. And . . . just look at yourself, sir! Listen to what you're saying! This isn't you!"

"Maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do," Megamind hissed in response.

Minion flinched. "Sir, I know Owen turned out to be a monster, but he's still a human being. This isn't like it was with Titan, or even Metro Man - if you do something drastic trying to get revenge for what he's done, you won't be able to come back from that. Please . . ."

Minion's eyes shimmered beseechingly as he stared at his master . . . his partner . . . his friend.

"Please . . . you're the hero now."

For a long moment, Megamind only looked at him. The fish seemed so very small and helpless outside the confines of his hulking, robotic suit. Megamind always knew that Minion took his role as a protector very seriously.

. . . My sole purpose in life is to look after you . . .

Even now - though Minion was essentially powerless and trapped inside an immobile glass ball - he was still fighting with every fiber of his being to continue to be the guardian he thought Megamind needed. Not a single ounce of the fear and anxiety currently radiating off his small body was because of what had happened to him earlier today. In fact, none of it was for himself at all. It was all because he was terrified that Megamind would do something desperate and irrevocable in a misguided quest for vengeance.

Megamind's heart twisted. Knowing that just made this harder.

Gently, he placed his hand on top of Minion's sphere. The fish pressed himself upward against the inside of the globe, as though seeking the reassurance of Megamind's touch through the glass. Megamind's eyes softened somewhat as he looked down at him.

"Minion," he said. His voice was thick and plaintive. "You are my best friend. I haven't told you that nearly enough. And today I came very close to losing all my chances. I am sincerely sorry about that." He swallowed past the lump that was forming in his throat. "I've always admired the extent of your compassion. I wish I had your capacity for forgiveness." Megamind shook his head lightly before meeting Minion's eyes again.

"But I don't," he said. "And I'm sorry about that, too."

Without another word, he swept away from the console as though his long cape was still billowing behind him. He could hear Minion's continued protests at his back, but his mind was made up.

This game was over.

Megamind strode with purpose across the floor of the lair. He didn't look back.

To be continued . . .

Chapter 12: A Little Fall of Rain

Chapter Text

Chapter 12 - A Little Fall of Rain

When it was obvious that Owen would not be coming back, Roxanne had turned around and slumped leadenly against the bars of her cell. She wrapped her arms around herself and pillowed her forehead upon her drawn knees, closing her eyes as they burned with angry, unshed tears.

It felt like there was a lead weight deep in her chest. She had spent so much time pacing this cell, wondering why Megamind hadn't come yet. And now that his delayed arrival had been thrown into such a sharp, cruel perspective, it made her stomach turn. She couldn't seem to prevent her mind from dwelling on what Owen had implied about Minion-

No.

Roxanne squeezed her eyes even more tightly shut, fighting back the tears, as well as the horrible feeling of grief that threatened to overtake her.

No, no, no . . .

She couldn't lose it; she needed to keep her head. Owen could have been lying about Minion. Roxanne had no reason to take him at his word, after all; he was clearly insane. She prayed with everything in her that what he had said had merely been intended to shake her. While this meant giving Owen credit for being crueler, more calculating, and even more intelligent than she previously had, at least it would leave her with some shred of hope that both Minion and Megamind were somehow all right. Delayed, but all right.

Unfortunately, the longer she spent here - the more time that dragged silently on, offering her nothing to do but wait and think - the more difficult it became not to imagine the worst.

Roxanne dug her fingertips into her arms as she continued to rest her head against her knees. If Megamind was alone and suffering because of what Owen had done, Roxanne wanted to claw her way out of this old animal cage and race to his side. She hated the idea of just sitting here and waiting. After so many years, she was used to being a captive; what she wasn't used to was feeling so terribly, terribly helpless.

Roxanne set her jaw and finally raised her head. She leaned it back against the bars behind her. The hallway was much darker than it had been when she had first arrived. Roxanne wasn't wearing a watch, but she guessed it had to at least be early evening by now. The dim lights Owen had placed sporadically through the room didn't help much either. Roxanne heard a very low and distant rumble of thunder. It was probably going to start raining soon.

A momentary flash briefly illuminated the hallway as a fleeting pulse of lightning brightened the sky outside. It created a patchy, dappled pattern upon the floor around Roxanne, and cast long shadows through the room. The sudden light source drew Roxanne's attention upward.

She blinked.

Thunder began to grumble again off in the distance, and Roxanne's eyes suddenly widened.

Her cell had a window.

High above her was a small, dingy pane of glass, close to where the wall met the ceiling. She hadn't really noticed it before - but then, she had been facing the other direction for most of her time here. However, now that the light in the hallway was waning from the gathering storm, the brief burst of lightning was enough to draw her attention to the presence of the old, grimy windowpane.

Roxanne pushed herself into a standing position, sliding upward against the bars as she stared at the window in her cell. Then she glanced up and down the hallway to see that there were, in fact, a few other small windows spaced along the upper wall. She turned her eyes back to the one above her again. It didn't seem to have any additional reinforcement - no bars or added caging protecting the glass. Apparently, whatever animal had been kept in this cage all those years ago, it hadn't been small enough or dexterous enough for the zookeepers to concern themselves with fortifying the window.

Roxanne's eyes trailed toward the climbing apparatus in the corner of her cage. She studied it for a moment, then looked back at the window. They were a good several feet apart, but the distance didn't seem impossibly far.

Roxanne shot a quick glance down the hall as far as she could see. She cleared her throat and called out, "Owen?" She paused and listened as the echo of her own voice filled the hallway. "Owen, hello?"

There was no response. It had been some time since Owen had left. She wondered if he was even still in the building. At the very least, he seemed to be out of earshot. But if she waited around any longer to find out, then she realized she might miss this one chance.

Roxanne Ritchi had spent years as a frequent hostage, but she had never been a damsel in distress. She had to do something.

She opened her right hand and looked down at the dim, blue light of Megamind's tracking device as it continued to glow against the skin of her palm. He had given these chips to her to use in an emergency - so he could find her easily. And she knew he would. There was no doubt in Roxanne's mind that Megamind would come for her - no doubt at all. But if Owen hadn't been lying about Minion and something tragic really had happened, then Megamind needed her. So she had to find a way to get to him instead.

Wherever Wayne was right now, she hoped he would be okay until she got back.

Roxanne looked down at the ground. When Owen had shot the wall earlier the blast had scattered some debris and chunks of cement across the floor. She picked up the largest piece. It filled her entire hand and she gave it an experimental squeeze. Thankfully, the old masonry didn't crumble to dust in her grip and Roxanne felt her lips curl into a small, dour smirk. She slid it into the pocket of her blazer as she hurried over to the apparatus in the corner.

Roxanne surveyed it for a moment. It looked like a super-sized version of something cat owners might buy to keep their pets occupied. There were several levels of platforms, tunnels, and ramps, all decorated to resemble a jungle setting. The highest platforms were just a few feet from the ceiling. She glanced up as she approached the structure.

Like everything else in this building it was caked with dust and dirt. Its chipped paint and overall clunky appearance made a rather depressing mockery of the natural habitat it was trying to imitate. Several limbs jutted from the structure at all angles. They were probably supposed to resemble tree branches, but they really just added to the cheap, counterfeit appearance of the whole thing. Roxanne approached one of the low-hanging ones.

She kicked off her shoes. They only had a small heel this time, but still - a pair of pumps wasn't exactly conducive to scaling a jungle gym. At least she had chosen to wear slacks today rather than a skirt.

She grabbed for the nearest "branch" and began to put her weight onto it. Almost immediately, it creaked loudly. The sound echoed through the chamber and Roxanne immediately froze in mid-climb, listening and barely daring to breathe. Her stomach did a flip-flop as she waited to see if the noise had alerted Owen to what she was attempting to do. When no further sounds emanated through the hall, Roxanne slowly released her breath.

She studied the section of the apparatus that she was grasping. It dawned on her that these smaller, branch-like appendages were probably just for decoration and therefore not as sturdy as the rest of the structure. If, as she suspected, this cage had once been home to a species of jungle cat or some other sort of large animal, odds were they hadn't needed the smaller limbs to climb. Most animals like that could probably make it to the first platform in a single leap. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option for Roxanne since the lowest platform was almost level with her forehead; she needed to hoist herself with something if she was going to get up there.

She placed a tentative bit of weight on the fake tree limb again, attempting to control the amount of noise it made the second time. She gritted her teeth as it finished creaking, then paused again and listened. Outside, the thunder rolled and the intermittent sound of raindrops began to tap against the exterior surface of the building.

When Roxanne was certain that she heard no evidence of Owen down the hall, she swung one leg up, then the other, hooking them upon the first platform. She grunted softly as she slowly pulled herself onto it, curling her legs against its surface and inching her hands, one over the other, up the dangling limb. When Roxanne finally reached the first level off the floor, she paused, crouching on her hands and knees. She breathed heavily from exertion, but shallowly so as not to be heard.

After taking a moment to compose herself, Roxanne fixed her eyes on her path upward.

Getting to the second level was significantly easier since she merely had to walk up a connecting ramp. It was steep though, so she still had to be careful not to slip. Roxanne proceeded cautiously, staying on the balls of her feet and bent at the waist to steady herself with her fingertips as she went. Like everything else, the ramp was covered in an accumulation of grime and dust from years of abandonment. Roxanne left small footprints behind as she tip-toed warily up the slope.

There were several platforms along the top level, each having its own distinct "play area" built for the cage's former inhabitant - from oversized scratching posts to large, metal tunnels, which were painted to resemble hollow tree logs. Roxanne headed for the platform nearest to the wall. Thankfully, this one was only about as high as her torso, so it didn't take much effort for her to hoist herself up onto it. Then she straightened to a standing position and placed one hand on the ceiling to steady herself.

She glanced down at the floor below. She was about twenty feet up now, but it felt a lot higher than that. In general, heights had never really bothered Roxanne. In fact, if she added up all the instances of dangling from Megamind's doomsday devices and sweeping through the sky with Metro Man over the years, she had probably spent more time off the ground than most amateur pilots.

Not every adventure in elevation had been a positive one, of course. Being tossed around like a ragdoll by Titan certainly hadn't been. Neither was sliding down a Metro Tower utility ladder while wearing a dress and heels. And Roxanne didn't even want to think about the last time she had been up there.

But with Megamind's schemes, there had always been a kind of safety net. With Wayne, she had simply been safe. However, neither of them was here right now, which made being this high off the ground suddenly unnerving.

Roxanne set her shoulders and carefully made her way to the edge.

She braced her feet upon the corner of the high platform, as close to the window as she could possibly get, and surveyed the distance to the wall. Its vertical surface wasn't far from where she stood now, but the gap would increase greatly as she drew closer to the window. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Come on," she murmured to herself. "You can do this."

She reached her arms out before she had the chance to change her mind. Then she opened her eyes again and leaned forward slightly until her hands touched the wall.

She felt the small bump of the tracking device on her right palm as she pressed against the stone. She wondered for a moment if she should try to peel the little chip off first. However, she wasn't sure if removing it would affect its signal, so she decided to leave it. After all, she wanted Megamind to know where she was, but she also wanted him to be aware that she was moving.

Roxanne exhaled slowly and risked a glance downward as she propped diagonally against the wall's surface. Compared to all the other times she'd been off the ground, this was relatively low. But it was still high enough to hurt her if she were to fall. Roxanne looked up, fixed her eyes on the window to her right, and began to move sideways toward it.

Slowly and carefully, she walked her hands along the wall, blowing out long, steadying breaths as she went. The farther she went, the more she began to notice an uncomfortable strain across her middle. With nothing to support it, Roxanne could feel her torso wanting to sag toward the floor. She grunted softly with the effort to keep her body plank-straight as she moved along.

Once she was stretched as far as she could reach, Roxanne glanced up to see her progress. Immediately, she felt her heart sink. The glass was still about a foot away. She had misjudged the distance between the platform and the window; she simply wasn't tall enough to reach it. From here, there was no way she'd have the leverage or the proximity she'd need to try and break the window, much less find a way to climb through it. And she couldn't take the risk of it not working the first time. Even with the growing sound of the storm outside, the breaking glass would be loud; she needed to be in a position to move fast and make it count.

There had to be some way to get closer.

Roxanne looked down at her feet as they hugged the very edge of the platform, then she trailed her gaze to one side. Just beside where she stood, there was another one of those fake tree limbs jutting outward sideways like a gnarled branch. Roxanne bit down on her bottom lip. She knew it wouldn't be as sturdy as the platform she was standing on now, but compared to the rest of the structure, that outcropping was actually much closer to the window. And the last one had held her weight when she had climbed to the first level . . .

Another flash of lightning illuminated the hallway, followed by a louder growl of thunder. Rain was pattering steadily against the window and streaming down the glass in thin rivulets.

"This is crazy," Roxanne whispered, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes shut. "Oh, this is just so completely crazy."

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She spread her fingers wide as she planted both hands firmly upon the wall. She could feel the round press of Megamind's tracking device upon her skin again. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, but she only allowed herself a brief pause. Then she slid one foot cautiously to the right.

The limb groaned a little and Roxanne felt it give slightly. She froze, though her heart continued to race. The branch held, so she shifted most of her weight onto that leg to test it further. When nothing else happened, Roxanne expelled a nervous burst of air and finally, tentatively, slid her other foot to join the first - leaving the solid platform behind. Her bottom lip automatically found its way between her teeth again and she tried not to think of the long drop beneath her as she moved carefully through space. She didn't look down; she kept her eyes fixed fiercely on the window.

Roxanne slid slowly along the fake branch. When her feet were finally level with her hands, she stopped and expelled a long, settling breath.

"Okay," she whispered forcefully to herself. "You're almost there."

Two more shifts of her arms and legs brought her directly in line with the glass. She braced her palms firmly against the curve of the window ledge. The fake branch felt like a narrow balance beam beneath the arches of her feet. Roxanne shifted all her weight to her left hand temporarily and reached back into the pocket of her blazer with her right. Her fingers found the hunk of cement she had placed there and wrapped around it tightly. Then she quickly brought her hand back to the window ledge before her other arm began to tremble from supporting all of her weight.

For a moment she allowed herself to rest, suspended in space - breathing, gathering her wits, and listening to the sound of the rain. She knew once she started, there wouldn't be time to waste; she was going to have to move very quickly. Roxanne narrowed her eyes at the window and clutched the cement chunk in her fist. She wound back. A loud crash of thunder echoed outside as she slammed the rock hard against the glass.

She grunted sharply from the force she put behind the blow. A shattering high note sounded through the hall, and Roxanne quickly dropped her arm to clutch the window ledge again, regaining her equilibrium. She looked up at the window to see a fist-sized starburst blooming upon the glass. The little streams of rainwater detoured erratically around the countless cracks. Roxanne smiled grimly. The break didn't go clean through, but at least the glass wasn't shatterproof. Another direct hit should do it.

Roxanne gripped the hunk of rock tightly, wound back a second time, and struck.

She felt her balance shift again as, this time, the rock smashed completely through the windowpane; the satisfying sound of shattering glass rang in her ears. She felt rhythmic drops of cool rain against her fist, and she breathed in the fresh, moist air from outside. Roxanne smiled again, her heart pounding with adrenaline.

Then another loud crack echoed through the hall as the branch beneath her feet suddenly snapped out from under her.

Roxanne's momentary elation shifted into abject panic as her lower half began falling through space. Her hold on the window ledge tightened as her body swung down in an arc and hit the wall hard, knocking the wind from her lungs. Her bare feet scrabbled frantically for purchase against the vertical concrete surface.

Roxanne immediately dropped the rock in her fist and reflexively grabbed at anything she could to pull herself up. Her hand closed around a shard of broken glass.

Roxanne cried out in pain and, before she could think, she let go of the window ledge.

Her bare feet hit the floor first and her legs crumpled beneath her as she fell into a painful heap. When the whirlwind around her had ceased, Roxanne found herself flat on her back in her cell, staring up at the broken window high overhead. Another bolt of lightning illuminated the sky beyond the glass.

Roxanne groaned and squeezed her eyes shut. Defeated tears pricked hotly at the very corners, but she was too angry to let them flow. She gritted her teeth in frustration.

Roxanne clenched her right hand tightly into a fist and cradled it against her with the other. She didn't have to look at it to know that there was probably a decent slice across her palm; she could feel it burn and throb as though it had its own miniature heartbeat. It was also beginning to feel warm and damp. She worried that she may have lost the tracking device when she grabbed the glass, but she couldn't bring herself to open her hand to check; it still hurt too much.

Roxanne groaned angrily as she lay upon the hard floor. She could feel a light mist of rainwater falling upon her face from the broken window.

Finally, she opened her eyes.

Owen's upside-down form was staring at her from the other side of the bars.

Roxanne gasped and scrambled to her knees. Her head spun dizzily from the sudden movement as she righted herself. Her injured hand ached as she clutched it against her chest. She scowled at Owen from her position on the floor. He had a large weapon slung over one shoulder. Roxanne recognized it as the one he had fired at her back at the café - the one Wayne had protected her from.

Owen glanced from her to the broken window and back again, raising an eyebrow and frowning. "What were you doing, Ms. Ritchi?" he asked suspiciously, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Roxanne immediately fumbled to a standing position. Her trembling muscles wavered slightly but she fought through it. She was determined to face Owen on her feet. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of standing over her. Her legs hurt from striking the floor, but at least it didn't feel as though she had broken anything. She continued to clutch her hand to her chest, pressing her fist closed against the painful pulse of the cut. She stepped closer to the bars, meeting Owen eye-to-eye.

"It was getting stuffy in here," she drawled in response. "Thought I'd let some air in."

Owen continued to frown at her. He propped the large weapon against the wall and twisted his body to grip at the hem of his cape as he approached Roxanne's cage. He blew out a heavy breath, his lips creating an annoyed flutter. "God," he grumbled, "were you this much trouble for him all those years?"

Roxanne narrowed her eyes into harsh slants. Owen had frightened her earlier, but now that feeling had passed. Now, she was simply angry, and her failed escape attempt only added to that. She felt the anger swell inside of her and she donned it like armor. Threats or no threats, Roxanne wasn't going to allow Owen to intimidate her again. She steadily met his gaze.

"I don't think you really want me to get into the differences between the two of you," she said, her voice quiet and harsh.

"Whatever," Owen grunted, though he only seemed to be half-listening to her. He continued to tug at the hem of his cape until Roxanne heard a ripping sound. She watched in confusion as he struggled to pull the fabric apart. Soon Owen had torn a strip of thin, black cloth from along the entire bottom of the cape, leaving the hem jagged and frayed.

Roxanne eyed him dubiously, half expecting him to ask if the tattered edges made him look more menacing.

"Seriously," Owen continued to mumble with a shake of his head. "Escape through the window? Even I could have told you that was a bad idea." He straightened and held the frayed strip of cloth up, smoothing his other hand down its length. "And the last thing I need is for him to think I did this to you."

Owen's hand shot forward and he seized her by the wrist.

"Hey!" Roxanne instinctively tried to pull away from his grasp. She braced herself against the bars with her other hand to keep Owen from pulling her toward him. "Let go of me!"

Owen grunted as he tightened his grip on her wrist. Roxanne continued to fight him, but he slowly managed to pry her fist away from her chest and through the bars. "My God, would you relax?" he grumbled. "It's not like I need him to have another reason to want to tear my head off. Now hold still!"

He squeezed his fingers against the base of her hand. Roxanne cried out reflexively as the pressure of his grip pinched her fresh cut. Her palm peeled open against her own volition to reveal a sticky, wet patch of red upon her light skin.

Owen grumbled incomprehensibly as he laid one end of the strip of cloth he had torn from his cape at the base of her wrist. He held it there and began to wind the fabric securely in place.

Roxanne watched him and, for a moment, she was so surprised she forgot to struggle. She stared at Owen with wide, suspicious eyes as he set about wrapping the makeshift bandage around her injury. He scowled as he worked, tension radiating off him in waves. He seemed more frustrated by the circ*mstance than genuinely concerned for her well-being, but his actions were still enough to catch Roxanne off guard.

In her shock, her hand relaxed and fell all the way open.

An instant later, she realized her mistake. A pulse of electric-blue circuitry flashed across the bottom edge of her vision. She gasped and looked down at her hand. At that same moment, Owen froze - halting his efforts to wrap the strip of cloth around her cut. Immediately, Roxanne tensed and tried to pull away again, bracing against the bars with her free hand, but Owen held her fast. Roxanne's gaze trailed slowly from her hand up to Owen's face. He was already looking at her. His eyes were wide and panicked.

"What . . . ?" he asked. His voice shook. His hands began to tremble. He tried unsuccessfully to hide the shaking by tightening his hold on her wrist. "What is this?"

Roxanne winced. Her eyes watered slightly from the sharp stab of pain his grip sent through her fresh cut. She squinted her eyes open and glared at him.

"I told you that Megamind would be coming," she said. "I wasn't just being melodramatic."

Owen's eyes widened even further. His gaze shifted back to the small chip on Roxanne's palm. "No," he breathed, shaking his head in protest. "No, no, not yet."

Roxanne tried again to yank her hand free, but he held her steady in his grip. He pulled on her arm as he fumbled roughly to scrape the tiny tracking device off her skin with his other hand. Roxanne winced again as the fingertip of his glove scratched over her cut. Once Owen had peeled the adhesive of the chip loose, he finally released her wrist with a shove.

Roxanne overbalanced and tumbled backwards onto the floor of her cell. The ribbon of cloth from Owen's cape fluttered in her wake and puddled beside her like a tattered mummy's bandage. She snatched it up and continued to wind it tightly around her wound herself. She glanced back up at Owen.

He stared in horror at the small azure device between his gloved fingers for a moment. Then he flung it to the floor as though it had burned him and stomped on it over and over like he was killing a spider.

"No, no, no . . . !" he protested with each pound of his boot against the floor. He clenched his fists at his sides and ground his heel into the device one more time for good measure. The blue light of the tracking device dulled and died as the tiny fragments scattered upon the concrete. Owen brushed them away from him with his boot, putting some distance between him and the pulverized remains. Then he turned his furious glare upon Roxanne.

She returned his look unflinchingly as she tucked the ends of her makeshift bandage securely into place.

"I left him cards," Owen insisted. "I left him clues. That's how he's supposed to find me. Because of me - not because of you." A shudder rippled through him as he glared at her. "You don't get to twist the game in your favor by treating this like it's some kind of rescue, Ms. Ritchi. That's not why you're here."

Roxanne's stare hardened as she flexed her hand against the dressing surrounding her injury. "You're crazy," she finally told him, climbing back to her feet. "But it doesn’t matter, you know. You can be as cryptic as you want, Owen, but you and I both know that Megamind will find you." She wrapped her hands around the bars of the cage and lowered her voice. "It doesn't matter if I'm here or not; it doesn't matter if he has a tracking signal to follow or not. After what you did - after everything you did - he'll find you."

Another visible tremor shivered over Owen's body, but he managed to sneer at her. "Then I better make sure I'm ready, shouldn't I?"

He turned on his heel and tromped hastily over to the table with the projector. He picked up two remote devices that had been sitting beside it. Roxanne could see the young man's hands quiver as he fumbled to flip a switch on the larger one. A small light bulb at the top glowed orange, and he slipped the remote into one of the deep pockets of his cargo pants. The other device was much smaller, like a laser-pointer. He aimed it at the projector and squeezed his thumb against it. The machine turned on and a rectangle of light slowly appeared upon the white screen. No images were being projected, however - just the light. Owen slipped that remote into his pocket as well.

As Roxanne watched him, her jaw clenched, grinding her back teeth together anxiously. Nearly everything Owen had said and done since they had arrived here had left her baffled and confused: his reasons behind all those attacks, his apparent animosity toward her, his insistence that he was doing all this to help Megamind somehow . . .

So many unanswered questions circulated through the reporter's brain endlessly. However, there was only one thing she needed to know right away:

"Did you really hurt him?" she asked, her voice softening involuntarily as she spoke.

Owen turned back to her, his face looking confused, anxious, and impatient. "What?" he snapped.

"Minion," she clarified. "Did you-?" Her voice quavered slightly. She swallowed hard. "Is he dead?"

Owen stared back at her. His face was stony and impassive, but physically he looked highly agitated. His shoulders rose and fell in large movements as he took deep breaths in and out through his nose. After a moment, he merely shook his head. "I don't know."

Roxanne narrowed her eyes at him. "What do you mean you don't know-?"

"Look, he wasn't even supposed to be there, all right?" Owen shot back angrily. "I watched the car leave - they always leave together. Don't you think I know that they always leave together?" Owen bristled. His fingers rubbed together anxiously. "How was I supposed to know the fish had stayed behind this time?" He shook his head. "I told you I didn't want to do it, Ms. Ritchi. But he didn't give me a choice."

Roxanne scowled at him. "What you haven't told me, Owen, was what he would have stopped you from doing," she said. "If you really did hurt Minion, you've made things even worse for yourself - you have to know that." She paused, regarding him icily. "Was it worth it?" she asked, her voice pitching low and quivering in anger. "Whatever your plan was . . . was it worth it?"

Owen stared at her for a moment, then his face split into a feverish grin. "Ohhh no, Ms. Ritchi," he droned, shaking his head reproachfully as he wagged one finger back and forth in her direction. "You don't get to make this about my mistakes. If this is anyone's fault, it's yours." He arched an eyebrow. "And you know what? In a way, that fish may have actually done me a favor. Maybe it's better that I didn't do this in the lair. Megamind might have thought it was a trick - a fabrication. Maybe it's better that it worked out this way. Because with you here, he can look you in the eye when I show him how you used him."

"You're insane," Roxanne breathed.

"And you ruined my life!" Owen shouted back at her, his voice cracking shrilly.

Roxanne flinched away from the bars, but continued to scowl heatedly at him.

Owen's body began trembling even more violently. He was furious. "I had a purpose once, you know," he said, his voice shaking. "I knew exactly what I wanted and what I was meant for." His hands clenched tightly into fists. "All those things I've been trying to show him - all the plans, the blueprints, the inventions . . . You think I came up with all that just over the past few months?" Owen giggled harshly and shook his head. "Think again! That was years' worth of work! I spent half my life waiting to show him what I could do."

Roxanne swallowed thickly and steeled herself. "You admired him," she said breathlessly. "Megamind. You-"

"Admired him?" Owen asked, cutting her off. He frowned darkly. "Shows what you know. That guy was my freaking hero," he hissed through his teeth. "Not this city's - mine. And true fans don't abandon their heroes, Ms. Ritchi." His eyes narrowed and he grit his teeth savagely as he looked her up and down. "Not even when they sell out."

Roxanne clenched her fists furiously. "And the buildings you targeted," she said. "That was why you chose them? To prove some kind of twisted point?"

"It's not like it was hard," Owen replied snidely. "It's amazing how people don't even look twice at a guy with a delivery uniform and a paper bag." He snorted derisively and shook his head with a dry grin. "Even that cop in the guard booth hardly batted an eye when I handed it to him. He just mumbled something about having to be the messenger boy every time somebody on the inside ordered lunch. And when he set it aside without even looking at it - or at me - I knew I was free and clear."

Roxanne wrapped her hands around the bars again and glared at Owen fiercely. "Destroying all the places that played a role in Megamind becoming the city's hero isn't going to put everything back the way it was, you know," she said. "It takes a lot more than that to change a person."

"I know that!" Owen growled in response. "I'm not stupid." He prowled back and forth for a few paces in front of her cell. "But throw in throngs of cheering idiots, some novelty knick-knacks with his face on them, an oversized public monument or two . . ." Owen stepped back and appraised Roxanne again, his lips twisting nastily. ". . . And let's not forget a persuasive smile from a pretty girl."

Roxanne fixed him with a hostile glare.

"Given all that, I can't blame him for switching sides," Owen mused. "For someone like him, it would be hard to turn away from that sort of public approval. Heck, he even thought his main rival was dead. Of course," Owen added with a dry, humorless chuckle, "we both know that's a lie, too, don't we?" He shook his head, placing his hands on his hips. "No, I don't blame Megamind for what happened, Ms. Ritchi. Not at all." He pinned his eyes on Roxanne with a hateful sneer. "I blame you."

"You really are crazy, then," Roxanne retorted, keeping her voice calm and even.

"Then that's your fault, too," he snarled in response. "Imagine having all your life's plans crushed just when you were getting ready to finally act on them. Megamind would have helped me; I know he would have. Because I was probably the only one in this whole freaking city who admired him the way he was. He would have accepted me the way I accepted him. But I never got the chance to show him." Owen's face twisted as he regarded her. "You took away my purpose, Ms. Ritchi," he said. "But now you're going to help me get it back."

Roxanne hardly blinked as she glared back at the unstable young man before her. There was a tight clenching in her chest, but it wasn't from fear. It was from fury.

"I don't know what you've done today, Owen," she said. "I don't know what you've done to Minion, or how you think you're going to use me and Metro Man to get what you want. But I do know one thing . . ." Roxanne glowered at him, her low voice resonating with challenge. "If you somehow manage to drag Megamind down to your level, I swear I'll make you pay for it myself."

Owen approached the bars and loomed a breath away from her face. Roxanne met his eyes defiantly and refused to flinch away.

"Take your best shot, Ms. Ritchi," he hissed at her.

The tense standoff was broken a second later, when the far wall of the zoo's main chamber suddenly exploded in a massive eruption of fire and granite.

Both Owen and Roxanne shielded their eyes against the blast as chunks of old masonry surged inward to litter the length of the hallway floor. A brisk wind from the storm outside swirled dust, debris, smoke, and rain together in front of the new, gaping hole in the side of the building.

Roxanne coughed several times as the dust settled and waved one hand in front of her face to clear the air. Then her breath caught in her throat.

A slender silhouette with an oversized cranium stepped deliberately through the haze and into view.

The light of the dehydration gun faded as he brandished it beside his shoulder. He advanced a few more steps, coming to a halt just inside the yawning hole he had created. His eyes fell upon Roxanne and she thought she was able to detect the barest flicker of relief in his face.

The moment he shifted his gaze to the young man beside her, however, his expression immediately darkened.

"Ollo, Owen," Megamind said coldly.

To be continued . . .

Chapter 13: Storm Front

Chapter Text

Chapter 13 - Storm Front

Most of the time, Roxanne barely noticed the idiosyncrasies in Megamind's speech anymore. By now, his eccentric manner of pronouncing things had simply become part of his package. In fact, Roxanne had actually stopped consciously registering many of his little quirks years ago - long before he had even become a hero. They simply processed through her brain, just like anything else.

She had learned over the years that some of his most blatant mispronunciations actually served a purpose. Metrocity, for instance, had probably started out as a genuine mistake - an easily-corrected mistake since, at some point during his youth, Megamind had certainly heard the correct way of saying Metro City. However, somewhere along the line it had also become apparent that mangling the name of their hometown was one of the quickest ways to push Metro Man's buttons. So he did. And after years, the word simply stuck. He even seemed to have convinced himself that his pronunciation was the right one.

Other errors in his diction were more subtle, and probably genuinely unintentional. An oddly emphasized syllable here, a slightly different roll of the tongue there - simple, everyday words often had a very unique twist when they were part of his vocabulary. Whenever Roxanne actually thought about it - which was rare nowadays - it served as an occasional reminder of just how far removed Megamind had been from the interactions most people took for granted. And it was especially strange to consider how some of the most common aspects of everyday conversation he had simply never had an occasion to use. Ever. Not even with Minion.

But for the most part, Roxanne hardly noticed any of this anymore. And even when she did, she never dreamed of correcting him. It was part of his identity, after all, and she had no desire to change anything about him. Nowadays, if she actually did manage to catch one of his little foibles, she registered it mentally with a fond smile - knowing it was just a part of who he was.

There simply wasn't anyone else like him on Earth. In more ways than one.

In recent months, however, there were a few words that Megamind had begun making a conscious effort to use correctly - among them, common greetings. He had a tendency to over-enunciate the word "hello", for example, simply because he put so much careful thought and effort into getting it right. Roxanne always noticed when he did that.

And she noticed it even more acutely when he didn't . . .

"Ollo, Owen."

A cold, ominous shiver swept across Roxanne's skin as Megamind's greeting sounded in her ears. Her heart began to pound mercilessly against her ribcage. Something about hearing that old pronunciation again unnerved her.

Megamind took another deliberate step into the room. A few large slabs of stonework intermittently broke away from the edges of the massive hole he had created in the hallway behind him. They smacked loudly against the ground as they joined the debris piles littering the floor. A snap of electricity crackled, and a ruptured wire spit a small shower of sparks in an arc over his head. The rhythm of falling rain spattered just outside the new, gaping entryway, underscored by the occasional roll of thunder.

Roxanne stared wide-eyed at the aftermath of the explosion. It looked as though Megamind had actually blown one whole end of the building away. She had had no idea his dehydration gun was capable of that much destruction, even on its strongest setting.

Roxanne's heart thrummed rapidly within her chest. Her gaze refocused on Megamind's face. His expression was as dark as the tone he had spoken in as he glared at Owen with burning eyes. And his clothes . . .

Oh, God, his clothes.

He was wearing an ordinary dress shirt and dark trousers. The damp, rumpled fabrics hung from his thin frame in wrinkled folds. The image of Megamind's typical flamboyance shrouded beneath such an ordinary exterior would have given Roxanne pause under any circ*mstances. Now, however, the tableau struck her with even more frightening urgency.

Because he had been dressed for their evening.

He had actually gotten a suit.

And he was still wearing it.

The absence of Megamind's customary leather, spikes, and cape made his stature seem so much smaller. His larger-than-life exterior had always served as a kind of armor. But now, he stood there without it - wearing only a dark, furious expression, and draped in the disheveled remains of what would have been his evening plans.

Roxanne tore her eyes away from Megamind and frantically craned her neck to search the area behind him. A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the park outside and Roxanne strained to catch even the briefest glimpse of a hulking robotic form lingering at his master's back. She searched for a telltale glint of lightning upon metal, . . . a momentary flash of synthetic fur, . . . a large looming shadow among the copse of trees . . .

She gripped the bars tightly, desperately willing any of that to appear.

But it didn't.

Minion wasn't there.

Oh, God, she thought. Roxanne's gaze focused back on Megamind's face - and the shockingly strident look in his haunted and furious emerald eyes. She shook her head. Oh, no.

Owen's demeanor had also visibly changed. A few short moments ago, he had been looming menacingly over Roxanne, his face angry and flushed. But as Megamind began striding toward them through the settling dust, the young villain had gone completely pale - his complexion draining of nearly all its color.

Roxanne took her focus off Megamind momentarily and glanced to her right. She observed Owen as he watched Megamind approach. The young man's unblinking eyes were impossibly wide, and his Adam's apple plunged low in his throat. He fluttered the fingers of one hand nervously near the entrance to one of the many pockets of his cargo pants. The subtle movement caught Roxanne's attention and her stomach turned anxiously. She had witnessed Owen slip several objects into his various pockets. An image of the small revolver he had brandished earlier flashed warningly through her mind.

She turned her attention back to Megamind as he came to a halt a few short feet away. He was still glaring at the young man beside her. She did not want to distract Megamind's focus, especially if Owen should suddenly panic and grab for a concealed weapon, but she still needed to warn him. Roxanne swallowed hard.

"Megamind," she said, in a voice that came out more strained than she had intended.

He glanced at her and, again, his features softened slightly. "Are you all right?" he asked. His voice was noticeably tight and tense. He spared quick glances back at Owen, even as his eyes concentrated on her.

Roxanne nodded affirmatively. "He has a gun," she warned him quickly - without preamble so he wouldn't focus needlessly on her. She would be all right; he needed to worry about Owen.

Megamind nodded curtly in response, then fixed his eyes steadily back on the villain in front of him. "I know," he replied. His fingers tightened upon the filigreed grip of his weapon. His expression hardened again as he regarded the young man coldly. "Isn't that right, Owen?"

If possible, Owen's face blanched even further. Roxanne observed him as he fought again to swallow. "M-Mr. Mind," he stammered. "I . . . I can explain."

Megamind raised an eyebrow, but his face completely lacked any of the casual amusem*nt that Roxanne was so accustomed to seeing there. "Oh," he said. "Is that so?"

Roxanne had never heard such a steely edge to his voice before. Nor had she ever witnessed his animated nature reduced to such terse, clipped responses. The combination sent another deep shiver over her skin. If Megamind had acted like this back when he had been a villain, Roxanne could very easily have found him terrifying.

Now, however, her mounting fear was for a completely different reason: whatever had happened to cause this, Megamind was furious. He didn't appear to be thinking clearly either. He wasn't himself. Roxanne had never seen him like this - as though a swell of emotions was building up inside him like a geyser. Sooner or later, he would blow just as surely.

Roxanne would not let that happen. Not if she could help it.

Megamind tilted his head as he regarded Owen. He took a slow step forward. "Go on," he said. "I'm listening." There was an odd lilt to his voice that seemed deceptively pleasant.

He took another step forward, forcing Owen into a clumsy, instinctive retreat. The young man staggered back a step, withdrawing toward the wall adjacent to Roxanne's cell. "I . . ." he began, but faded out quickly as he took another nervous step backward.

Roxanne watched Owen's hand automatically pat his pocket. The vague gesture caused her heart to speed up. Then she, too, began to move - slowly and discreetly - along the bars of her cell. She drew closer to Owen's side.

Megamind advanced again, fingers tensing upon his weapon. "No, really," he continued, almost buoyantly, "I'd like to hear this explanation." The deep scowl on his face contradicted the lightness in his tone. He continued to walk forward, dehydration gun aloft. "Come now, Owen," he coaxed. "After all the time you've been coming to my lair? You've spent months trying to get my attention . . ."

Owen backed up until his quivering body was nearly against the wall.

Roxanne inched along the row of bars that held her, carefully keeping her eyes on both men.

Megamind stopped advancing an arm's length from Owen. The dehydration gun shuddered slightly in his fist.

". . . You have my attention now."

In the blink of an eye, Megamind's left hand shot forward, his long fingers fisting tightly around the folds of Owen's cape collar. He used it to shove the young man's shoulder hard against the wall and immediately brought his weapon up between them. Owen cried out in alarm as the bulbous muzzle of the dehydration gun jammed upward against the soft underside of his jaw.

"Megamind!"

Roxanne moved before she realized she was doing it. In fact, her mind barely registered anything at all until she was suddenly reaching forward, her arm stretched beyond the bars, with one hand wrapped tightly around Megamind's thin, blue wrist. For a frozen, breathless moment, the three individuals remained in an immobile standoff. The air around them crackled with a palpable electric tension.

Owen, wide-eyed and pale, cowered with his back against the stone wall of the old zoo. At his full height, the lanky young man was probably a head taller than Megamind, but those proportions seemed skewed as Megamind loomed over Owen's cringing, shrinking form.

Megamind's eyes were acid-bright and burning as he held the dehydration gun on Owen. His teeth were bared and his features were set into a vicious snarl. He hadn't moved since Roxanne had grabbed his wrist, but she could still feel rigid muscles jump and twitch beneath the surface of his bare, blue skin, even through the layer of the makeshift bandage that encircled her hand. It reinforced for her just how much strength he truly had in his deceptively thin body.

When Megamind had been evil, Roxanne had had countless, less than impressive encounters with him over the years. It was easy to forget, therefore, just how inexplicably intimidating the other residents of Metro City had found him. Now, however, as she watched Owen quiver in Megamind's grip, she was getting a reminder of that. And the fact that the young man had actually admired the person who was currently menacing him had to make it that much worse.

But Roxanne now knew it was Megamind, the villain, who Owen had admired so much. And despite Owen's outward terror, deep down this was probably exactly what he wanted. She couldn't allow this to go on.

"Megamind," Roxanne said again - this time in a breathless whisper. Her fingers tightened possessively around the arm that brandished the gun.

For another few moments, Megamind continued to stare Owen down, his entire body heaving with every heavy breath he took. Then he blinked, his body shuddered, and the muscles in his face relaxed ever so slightly. A moment later, his eyes were on Roxanne.

She looked up at him pleadingly - attempting to anchor him to her, both with her touch and with her gaze. If he was merely planning to dehydrate Owen and drop him off at the nearest police station, there wouldn't be an issue. However, judging by what had happened to the wall at the far end of the building, the gun's current setting was decidedly stronger. Regardless of what Owen had done, Roxanne couldn't let Megamind just destroy him, even if he did deserve it.

Because this wasn't about Owen at all.

She squeezed Megamind's wrist tighter. Please, she thought as she shook her head insistently, holding his eyes with hers. Don't let him drag you down with him.

Megamind blinked again as he focused on Roxanne's face. His gaze flickered down to the bandage surrounding her hand and his brow furrowed. Then he looked back up at her eyes. He visibly swallowed.

A moment later, the insistent drone of a sharp, electronic beep broke the silence.

"Mr. Mind. You . . . you need to back off now."

Both Megamind and Roxanne turned their faces back to Owen. The young man still appeared unnerved and shaken, but he was looking back at them now with a slight renewal of the stony aggression Roxanne had seen in him earlier. He scowled and licked at his dry lips anxiously.

Roxanne noticed something in his opposite hand, and her stomach twisted. He must have reached for it while she and Megamind had been focused on each other.

A second glance told her it was not the pistol she had feared. While that small knowledge was mildly reassuring, it didn't completely banish the churning in Roxanne's gut. Because what he was holding was a cell phone. Owen's thumb twitched as it hovered over the SEND button.

"Mr. Mind," he repeated warningly. A little more strength was evident in his quivering voice. "You need to back off. Now."

Megamind's scowl returned, but Roxanne could see that he seemed to have taken some control over the mindless fury that had previously been radiating off him. However, he still didn't move. His fingers slightly tightened their hold upon Owen's cape as he pressed the young man's shoulder to the wall, and the dehydration gun remained in its position at the young villain's neck.

"I mean it, Mr. Mind." Owen's voice was trembling, but increasingly insistent. He attempted to swallow past the obstruction that Megamind's weapon created against his throat. "I have seven numbers programmed into the speed dial of this phone. I've already used six of them."

Megamind sneered at the young man. "Oh, really?" he finally murmured. His voice sounded thick after not using it for several minutes. "Another bomb? I can't recall any other relevant locations that fit your pattern, Owen. And I already know you didn't hide one in my lair during your . . . visit." He narrowed his eyes, spitting that last word out with a snarl. He increased the pressure from the weapon in his hand. "Deviating from one's plan is a sloppy, rookie move," he said. "Where, may I ask, is this seventh mysterious target?"

Owen merely held his gaze.

Megamind released a breath of air that sounded like a genuine chuckle. It morphed into a fully-formed mockery of a robust laugh, which he indulged in for an eerie moment. "Oh, you're kidding, right?" Megamind asked, sounding both amused and appalled. "You put it here? You do realize this is your own hideout, don't you?"

Owen's lips twitched. He almost seemed to shrug. "I didn't exactly have the opportunity to put it anywhere else."

Megamind brought his face very near to Owen's. "And if I think you're bluffing?" he hissed.

Owen swallowed again. Beads of perspiration began to condense along his forehead. "Like I told Ms. Ritchi," he muttered coldly, "it's not like I have anything else to lose."

Megamind regarded the young villain for what felt like an eternal moment. Roxanne felt the tight sinews of muscle continue to twitch beneath the pressure of her hand. Then, with a small shove, he released Owen's shoulder. He lowered his weapon to his side and backed up a step.

"Keep going," Owen said as he straightened a bit. "A little more."

Megamind glanced at Roxanne, took a strained, full-body breath, and backed up again.
As he retreated, his wrist consequently slipped out of her grasp.

Owen pushed himself away from the wall at his back and staggered woodenly to his full height again. Roxanne noticed that he still seemed to be trembling slightly. He held up the phone in his grasp.

"I need you to put the dehydration gun on the floor, Mr. Mind," Owen ordered, managing to force a bit more authority into his voice. "And I want you to kick it away." He shifted awkwardly, his other hand fidgeting at his side. "I just want to talk. That's all."

Megamind scowled at the young villain, his fingers automatically tightening upon his weapon's grip.

Owen's thin lips pursed angrily. He spared a glance for Roxanne as his thumb twitched over the SEND button on the phone. "Now," he warned.

Megamind sneered at Owen one final time. Then he bent down to place his dehydration gun on the dusty concrete floor. With one foot he brushed the weapon away from him, sending it sliding across the stone. It came to rest a few feet down the hallway.

He raised his eyes again, a deep frown creasing his features. "You wanted to talk, Owen?" he asked. "So talk."

Owen frowned back. He shifted the phone to his other hand and reached behind him for the weapon he had leaned against the wall earlier. His fingers closed around the grip and he quickly hoisted it up. Only then did he snap the cell phone shut and slide it back into his pocket.

Megamind raised his eyebrow at the young man brandishing the stolen weapon. His lips quirked into an odd smile. "That one isn't lethal, you know," he said. "The sonic pulse it releases can knock someone to the ground, but that's pretty much it."

Roxanne's eyes widened at that. When Owen had pulled that gun on her in the café, she hadn't known what its function was.

Neither, apparently, had Wayne.

"I read your database," Owen replied. "I know what it does." He shrugged. "I know what a lot of them do. I told you, I just want to talk." Owen held the large gun ready with both hands and rocked onto the balls of his feet, glancing around anxiously. "W-what else did you bring?" he asked, unable to completely banish the nerves in his voice.

Megamind raised an eyebrow again. He displayed his empty, blue hands for a moment, then allowed his arms to drop back to his sides. "From where I'm standing, Owen, you're the one with the upper hand right now," he pointed out. "In fact . . ." His voice lowered again as his gaze focused on the sonic cannon in Owen's hands, before purposely shifting to Roxanne. ". . . seems you have quite a few things that belong to me."

Roxanne watched as Owen squirmed uncomfortably beside her. He narrowed his eyes at Megamind. "You expect me to believe that you only brought the dehydration gun?" he challenged. "That doesn't seem like the Megamind I know."

Roxanne had to admit, she had thought the same thing. When Megamind had faced Hal, he'd brought every brainbot in his arsenal. And they had just been part of the distraction. Owen was hardly superhuman; he wasn't even a true super villain. Many of Megamind's weapons would probably be able to stop him easily. Part of Roxanne expected Megamind to be hiding an ace like that up his sleeve.

Megamind's lips twitched into a humorless smirk. "Who says I only brought the dehydration gun?" he countered. "After snooping through my database, you should know quite well that I have a plethORa of equipment capable of putting a decisive end to your treacherous plans." Megamind crossed his arms with a pointed look. "My battle-bot, for instance, could turn this place into a footprint if I chose," he continued with a small shrug. "For all you know, it could be just outside," he said with a toss of his head, indicating the large hole behind him. "Waiting for my signal."

Owen's eyes also briefly shifted to the missing far wall of the building, and the darkened park beyond. He shifted on his feet and adjusted his grip on the weapon in his hands.

Megamind focused his gaze forward again to stare directly into Owen's face. He uncrossed his arms, his smirk hardened into a scowl, and his eyes flashed. "Then again," he added darkly. "After everything you've done, Owen, maybe I just decided I'd rather deal with you myself."

Owen visibly shuddered at that. He clutched the sonic cannon as he fumbled to hold it at the ready. "Look, Mr. Mind, I'm sorry," he spluttered hurriedly. "I'm sorry about what happened with Minion. That wasn't supposed to-"

"Do not . . . say his name again," Megamind interrupted, his eyes flashing murderously. His voice suddenly pitched much lower than it had been, and his empty hands tightened into quivering fists at his sides.

Roxanne felt her gut twist as his words rang in her ears. She felt a prickling sensation begin to burn behind her eyes, but she quickly stomped down her own emotional reactions. Instead, she gave the bars a forceful but ineffectual tug. Naturally, they didn't budge, but she knew she had to do something to stop this somehow. She could see that Megamind was clinging precariously to control, even through his anger, but she could also see the desperation building with every trembling clench of his fists. Roxanne would not allow Owen to use Minion's fate as the trigger that pushed him over the edge.

Owen faltered. His hands tightened on the weapon he was holding as he attempted to collect himself and try again. "I'm just-" he stammered. "I'm sorry. I wasn't planning on hurting anyone. Really."

"Oh. How benevolent of you," Megamind said as his lip curled in distaste. "This from the person who brought a handgun into my home. And used it."

Roxanne gasped softly, feeling her body tremble in spite of herself. Her heart gave a small, anguished leap.

Megamind began to move slightly - making a few angry paces in front of Owen as he continued to speak. "Not to mention all the places around the city that you either destroyed or tried to destroy," he said. "For someone who claims not to want to hurt anyone, Owen, you certainly leave a lot of destruction in your wake."

Megamind reached into one of the pockets of his trousers and Owen immediately tensed. He raised the gun in a knee-jerk reaction and made a small noise of protest. However, when Megamind brought his hand out again, he was only holding one of Owen's calling cards. The young man relaxed his aim, but the tension never left his body.

Roxanne looked from Megamind's burning green eyes to the flaming beetle image on the card that had been found at the scenes of the numerous bombings. It matched the image the young villain currently displayed on his chest. Megamind held the card up briefly between two fingers, then tossed it to the floor at Owen's feet.

"I admit," he mused harshly, "as a villain, your methods caught me unawares at first, Owen." He gave the young man a bitter sneer. "It's not often that I'm caught with my pants on the ground, as they say." Megamind's scowl deepened. "But that still doesn't make you anything more than a rank ama-tour who got a lucky break while I was busy looking the other way."

Megamind risked taking a renewed step forward. He raised his empty hands in front of him, framing Owen as though through a camera lens as he advanced. "But I knew our villain would come out of the woodwork to force a confrontation eventually," he said. Then he held Owen's gaze. His hands lowered to his sides and clenched into fists once more. "So? What are we waiting for?"

Owen shifted on his feet. He held the weapon up, but made no effort to actually aim it. "What?"

Megamind raised a curious eyebrow. "Well, this is how it's done," he pointed out coldly. He raised his arms slightly to indicate their surroundings. "This is how the game is played: the villain and the hero . . . the final showdown . . . the battle royal-é . . . Megamind versus the Beetle-Bomber in an epic clash of good and evil. In other words: I crash through a wall, then I proceed to kick your butt. Come now," he said. "Is this not the glorious rivalry you expected?"

Owen shuddered in response. "I didn't want to fight you, Mr. Mind," he insisted.

"After what you've done, Owen, I don't see how you have a choice," Megamind growled.

Owen swallowed.

"So," Megamind concluded, "what's say you put my sonic cannon down. That way I won't be forced to call in my numerous reinforcements." His eyes narrowed in a glare of pure malice. "Because I've really been looking forward to rearranging your genetic makeup with my bare hands."

Roxanne had heard Megamind promise all manner of violence before. But in the past, it had always been infused with such larger-than-life bluster and bravado. She'd never heard him do it with such unadulterated venom before - both in his voice and in his face.

He meant it. He really did. He meant every word of it.

She couldn't let this go on.

Roxanne pulled herself flush against the cage bars. "Megamind," she interjected quickly, "listen to me. This . . ." She made an open-handed gesture toward them. "This is exactly what he wants."

Megamind blinked. The deep, angry lines in his face smoothed out a bit as he turned his head to face her. The abrupt transformation in his demeanor was mildly and momentarily reassuring. The Megamind she knew was always changing his mannerisms on a dime. He was still in there.

"What?" he asked. "Seriously?" His back straightened a little and he regarded Owen with suspicious, narrowed eyes. "And people said I was masoch*stic."

Roxanne continued to grip the bars and peered at him insistently until he met her eyes again. "No. He's not hoping you'll pummel him; he doesn't want to fight you. That's just it," she clarified. "He was never really looking for a rival; he was looking for a mentor."

Megamind merely blinked at her again for a moment, then turned back to Owen. His face pinched into an incredulous, squinty-eyed stare. "Wait . . ." he said. "What?"

His tight fists unclenched slightly at his sides. "That's what this has been about?" Megamind asked. "You've got to be kidding me. All this time . . . with all the blueprints, the inventions, the visits to the lair, and the bombings . . ." He narrowed his eyes again. "And all you've wanted were tips? On villainy?"

Owen didn't answer, but his hands shifted their grip on his weapon.

"There's actually more to it than that," Roxanne said. She looked Megamind in the eyes. "Apparently, he seems to think your talents are wasted on heroism."

For a moment, Megamind's only response was to blink, yet again. "I see," he finally mused. His voice was calmer now, but still steely. His lip curled up into an obvious sneer as he refocused on Owen. "And you wanted to, what?" he asked, taking another deliberate step forward. "Erase my grievous mistake by destroying all those buildings?" He scoffed. "Wipe out the steps along my 'path to righteousness'?"

Owen shifted his weight, and Megamind advanced again.

"Or perhaps you wished to remind me of all the fun I'm missing?"

Owen moved back to maintain the tense distance between them. Megamind pressed forward yet again.

"Or maybe you'd even hoped to . . ." He placed one hand gently upon his chest, his face feigning a wide, doe-eyed look. ". . . team up one day?" Megamind co*cked his head. "Is that what you wanted?"

Owen licked his lips anxiously, his shoulders rising and falling in heavy breaths.

Megamind's eyes suddenly darkened with renewed rage, and Roxanne felt the skin prickle along the back of her neck.

"Perhaps," he snarled, "you should have thought of that before you shot my best friend."

This time when he moved, it was a deliberate charge.

"Megamind!"

The loud crack of an impact echoed through the hallway and a tangible surge of energy swelled through the empty air like a wave through water. Roxanne watched helplessly as Megamind was popped backward off his feet with a sudden, startled yell. He landed flat on his back several feet away and slid an additional few before coming to a jarring halt against a pile of rubble.

Owen lowered the sonic cannon slowly. Roxanne stared at him, wide-eyed. After listening to the guy rant about what an idol Megamind had been, she never would have imagined he would actually pull the trigger. Judging by the shocked expression on Owen's face, he was probably having similar thoughts.

Megamind groaned as he shoved himself upright and glared.

"Ow," he growled through clenched teeth.

At first, Owen's eyes had gone huge. His chest heaved in sharp, panting breaths. Then, after a moment, his breathing began to even out. He swallowed, straightened, and stared at what he had just done with a hint of awe in his face.

"I said I didn't want to fight you," Owen finally said. "Not that I wouldn't."

His hands shifted to settle more assertively on the weapon and his body seemed to relax even more. His head tilted to the side as he regarded the scene before him. He glanced from Megamind to the weapon in his hands. Then the young man squared his shoulders, raised his chin, and stiffened his posture imperiously.

"And I should probably tell you," he announced, "the name is Fire Bug now."

Megamind snorted derisively as he leveraged one hand against his knee to raise himself off the floor. "Personally," he replied with a grunt as he got his legs beneath him again, "I prefer Beetle-Bomber." He shrugged. "But whatever."

Owen regarded him. His current advantage seemed to have infused him with a renewed sense of the arrogance he had displayed back at the café. His face, however, was conspicuously blank and expressionless. For a moment he simply stared at Megamind, then his eyes glanced slowly to his right and his left - cautiously and guardedly scrutinizing the area around him. He tilted his head curiously as though he was listening to something.

Roxanne eyed him suspiciously. His actions prompted her to glance around as well, co*cking her head to listen. All she could hear, however, was the rhythmic patter of the rain outside. Whatever had caught Owen's attention, she couldn't hear it.

A moment later, Owen refocused his eyes on Megamind. His expression was still vague and unreadable. Then, without warning, he raised the sonic rifle and fired again.

Megamind's eyes widened briefly. He crossed his arms in front of him in a split-second attempt to brace himself. When the pulse hit him a second time, the force of it spun him like a top before dropping him hard amidst the rubble.

"Hey!" Roxanne cried out indignantly. She reached ineffectually outward through the bars and felt an awful stab of worry as Megamind, again, landed among the debris strewn through the hallway.

Megamind let out another angry groan. "Okay," he grunted, holding one arm against his body briefly as he once again pushed himself up. He swayed noticeably on his feet. "Now you're asking for it."

The clothes he was wearing weren't holding up as well as his usual leather. They were already torn and dirty in several places; the seam of one sleeve had split open, revealing a slice of blue shoulder. Megamind staggered slightly, gritting his teeth and balling his fists as he glared at Owen. "I think it's safe to say you're getting the hang of this fighting thing now."

Owen lowered the sonic cannon and continued to look impassively at Megamind. He tilted his head again. "You didn't really bring any reinforcements, did you?" he asked coolly. "Or they'd be in here by now, wouldn't they?"

It was the calmest Roxanne had heard him speak all afternoon, and the sound sent a shiver down her spine.

Megamind bristled. "I wouldn't be so sure," he retorted, shuffling to stand solidly on his feet. "Maybe I just want to get warmed up before the real show starts."

Owen shrugged. "Okay," he said. He raised the gun again.

Megamind's body reflexively tensed, but he stood his ground.

"You know," Owen mused curiously, "I find it hard to believe that your 'backup' would just keep waiting around." He raised an eyebrow. "So go ahead," he prompted. "Start the show."

Then, without warning, he turned on his heel and pointed the gun at Roxanne instead, taking aim. "Call them in."

With a growl, Megamind automatically began to stagger forward. His expression had once again gone dark and furious.

Owen fitted the weapon to his shoulder and cast a sidelong glance back in Megamind's direction. He continued to keep the gun trained threateningly on Roxanne.

Immediately Megamind froze, just a few feet short, visibly seething.

Roxanne scowled at the young man brandishing the weapon at her. She had backed away from the bars and shifted her weight to the balls of her bare feet, getting ready to try and dodge if Owen pulled the trigger. The entire time her mind was whirling: Was Owen right? Had Megamind really come alone? Why? Where were the brainbots? What about his other inventions?

Megamind was never this reckless - never this hasty - not since becoming a hero. Why was he-?

Then it hit her.

Oh, God.

Minion.

Whatever had happened to Minion, it seemed to have caused Megamind to abandon the logic and levelheadedness he normally displayed since becoming the city's hero.

He really wasn't thinking.

The implications of that left Roxanne shaken. Megamind's brain was his biggest asset. If this overwhelming anger was affecting his ability to use it clearly, there was no telling what might happen.

When Owen spoke again, he refocused his eyes on Roxanne through the scope of the weapon.

"I realize this one's not necessarily dangerous," he said, indicating the gun. "But I'm guessing it still probably hurts to get hit over and over." Finally, he glanced back at Megamind. "That was why I took this one, though," he insisted. The calmness in his voice wavered, but only slightly. "I said I didn't actually want to fight you." He shook his head. "But after what happened with Min-"

Megamind stiffened like an angry dog, and Owen backtracked. Some of his calm noticeably wavered.

"After what happened this afternoon," he quickly amended, "I knew I would need something to help make you listen. But I didn't want to hurt you. I swear I only wanted to talk to you - without interruptions, without distractions."

Owen straightened his shoulders and finally lowered his aim. He gripped the weapon with more confidence as he turned back to fully face Megamind. "And if you really had brought backup, it probably would have been here by now. So I'm guessing we're finally going to get that opportunity."

"You've been talking quite a lot already, Owen," Megamind retorted. "So far, I haven't heard much worth listening to." He seemed to have steadied himself and was now standing much more solidly on his feet. "As Evil Monologues go, yours could use a little work."

"But that's just it!" Owen droned in reply. His demeanor seemed to shift completely as he relaxed his hold on his weapon, allowing the muzzle to droop below his waist. He threw one hand up into the air in exasperation. "This wasn't how it was supposed to happen at all," he groused as his arm flopped back down and swung limply beside him. "This was never supposed to be a confrontation. Not with you. All of this - everything I did - I was only trying to help."

One of Megamind's eyebrows arched high onto his considerable forehead. It didn't diminish the rage in his expression, however. "Riiight," he drawled.

"Everything was going pretty well, until today," Owen continued by way of an explanation. "Then it all went so wrong." He began to pace back and forth, rapidly and agitatedly. "And I'm not saying that what happened this afternoon was . . . all his fault," he added, carefully avoiding Megamind's eyes as he tip-toed around the subject of Minion.

Megamind tightened his fists, but didn't move otherwise.

"I knew you'd come after me after that. I knew there would be no way to avoid it. And yeah, okay, I panicked. But I swear I didn't go to your lair today to hurt anyone - especially him," Owen asserted vehemently. "I mean that. Forcing a fight with you was never what I wanted. But I didn't have a choice. You have to believe that everything I've done has been to help you."

Roxanne's eyes shifted from one man to the other. Owen continued to pace and ramble erratically, continuing along the downward spiral Roxanne had first witnessed earlier today.

The more Owen spoke, the more enraged Megamind seemed to become. His body was furious, tense, and quivering - as though he was physically grappling with the urge to rush forward the remaining feet and tear Owen apart, and the need to finally get some answers from the young villain.

Roxanne eyes fell momentarily upon the sonic cannon, which was now hanging, disregarded, in the grip of only one hand as Owen paced and ranted. Cautiously, she approached the side of her cage again, keeping her eyes on the weapon the entire time. Owen seemed to be so wrapped up in his tirade that he wasn't really paying attention to her.

Her breaths came shallowly and she kept her attention fixed on him as she slowly closed in.

Owen continued to speak, seemingly oblivious to Roxanne's movements. "After what happened today, everything went downhill. It wasn't fair," he went on. "I had spent so much time planning how I was finally going to approach you. If I got thrown out of the lair, it would have ruined everything. I couldn't let that happen."

Roxanne watched as Owen absently drew nearer to where she was standing. She wrapped her hands tightly around the bars and glanced quickly and insistently at Megamind. He must have felt her gaze on him because his eyes immediately flickered to her as well. His expression did not change as their eyes met; it remained hard and angry, and Roxanne's stomach twisted uncomfortably. Even though she knew his anger wasn't directed at her, coming face-to-face with it still caused a strange, unpleasant chill to prickle her skin. She wasn't used to seeing him like this.

Her eyes darted urgently to the gun in Owen's hand, and Megamind's eyes followed. Another brief look passed between them, then he straightened and quickly refocused his attention fully on the young villain. Roxanne tightened her grip on the bars, held her breath, and waited.

Maybe Megamind hadn't initially been thinking as clearly as he usually did in a crisis. Maybe, because of what had happened, he had lacked the presence of mind to bring his arsenal with him when he had left the lair. But Owen was dead wrong to assume that Megamind didn't have any backup.

He did have backup. He had Roxanne.

And she and Megamind worked very well together.

They always had.

Owen, for his part, was still ranting. He risked glancing up again, his eyes darting to look sporadically at Megamind's face. His voice remained pleading. "If I had just been able to talk to you - to show you what you needed to see - we could have avoided all this. I could have come clean with you about the bombs, and I wouldn't have needed to borrow your stuff to try and make up for what I . . ." He swallowed. "What I did."

Megamind glowered irately. "There is no making up for what you did," he spat - his voice low and dangerous. He took a deliberate step forward, forcing Owen to once again retreat back a step.

Roxanne stiffened and her heart sped up as Owen drew just a little closer to her. She bit her bottom lip and let go of the bars with one hand, then slid cautiously down into a crouch.

The disregarded sonic cannon hung down the length of Owen's side. It was just shy of an arm's reach away from Roxanne. If Megamind could only force him back another step or two . . .

Roxanne's fingers twitched as she began to slide them slowly through the bars.

Owen, however, did not seem to notice her. He stood stationary now and fully locked his eyes with Megamind. The expression on his face was increasingly beseeching and insistent. "You can't imagine what I've been going through since it happened!" he claimed adamantly. The flat palm of his free hand struck the center of his own chest. His fingertips dug slightly into the spandex in the area over his heart, distorting the image of the flaming beetle. "You can't know what it's like!" he insisted. "To want so much to impress this one particular person - to finally be ready to show him what you're capable of. And then to have it all fall apart and leave you facing an inevitable confrontation with him instead!"

Megamind's mouth twisted strangely at that, but his fierce expression never wavered. "Oh, yes." He regarded Owen through angry, narrowed eyes. "Yes, I can imagine how difficult all this must be for you," he droned in a biting deadpan.

Megamind took another calculated step forward, discreetly herding Owen toward the side of Roxanne's cell. Roxanne's searching fingers hovered in the empty space between her and the weapon. She watched Owen's profile for any sign that he had noticed her movements. She needed him to come just one step closer, but the more Megamind advanced, the more it increased the chances that Owen would feel threatened enough to want to use the gun again.

"So, let me get this straight," Megamind continued. His voice was slightly lighter - perhaps to hold Owen's attention completely on him. "All this has been about a grudge?" He scoffed derisively and rolled his entire large head in a full rotation on his shoulders. "I mean, don't get me wrong, Owen, if I was still evil I'd be weirdly flattered. You wanted a mentor in crime, and you're all bitter and angry because I'm a hero now?" Megamind raised his arms out to his sides, as though he was making a presentation of himself. "So why not just come after me?" he asked. "Why take it out on this city and the people I care about?"

Owen squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. "That's not it," he insisted. His free hand fisted tightly at his side. "This was never about me trying to get revenge because I felt betrayed." He opened his eyes and fixed them squarely on Megamind. "I'm not angry with you," he said, gesturing forward with both hands (and consequently snatching the weapon away from Roxanne's reaching fingers).

She blew a puff of air up toward her bangs in frustration.

"I'm angry," Owen clarified, "because you switched sides under false pretenses. I'm angry on your behalf, Mr. Mind. I'm angry because you don't realize that you should be the one who's angry! This city and the people in it . . . they used you because for some reason they can't function without a hero. And they made you into something you're not in the process. This isn't you. It never was."

Megamind scowled. "And you think you know who I am?" He risked another small step forward.

"I do," Owen replied. "Because I'm the same."

He allowed his arms to slouch back down to his sides, looking as though he was physically deflating. Roxanne took the opportunity to begin reaching cautiously forward again.

"I know what it's like to have other people not get me," Owen continued. "I know how it feels to have everybody else think they're better than I am." His face contorted into a bitter scowl. "And to know that they're wrong.

"Metro City is a big place, Mr. Mind," he went on, gesturing out to the area beyond the large hole Megamind had created when he arrived. "You can't possibly think that that Metro-Meathead was the only one who had fans. You-" He raised his empty hand imploringly in front of him. "You inspired me. It made me realize that I was different for a reason, and for years I knew you'd be the only one who might really understand me. I'd planned it out so perfectly. And then, just when I was finally ready to follow my own destiny - to show you what I could do - to show you what an asset I could be to you - this city forced you to change."

Megamind raised an eyebrow at the young man. "You do realize that Titan was my own doing, Owen," he said. "It was my responsibility to take care of him."

Owen's face scrunched up into a frustrated grimace. His empty hand fisted into his hair and a chaos of curls poked up between his fingers. "No, no, no. See? That's what I'm talking about!" He shook his head and released his hair. The haphazard tendrils continued to stick up erratically around his goggles. "Of course you had to take care of him! You're the super villain! Metro City was yours. Why wouldn't you take back your territory?" He released a loud, aggravated groan. "But slapping a label of 'responsibility' on it? That was their doing!" Owen said as he jammed his thumb aggressively behind him, as though implicating the entire city in a fit of indignation. "So yeah, I'm angry about that, Mr. Mind. Because when you lost sight of who you are, I lost my own purpose. I was supposed to be like you!"

Megamind scowled. "Like me?" he hissed. His body tensed and waves of anger seemed to radiate off him. "Even if what you're saying is true, you think that attacking Minion, kidnapping Roxanne Ritchi, and terrorizing the citizens of a city I've sworn to protect is going to make me see things your way? I'm not a villain anymore, Owen. It was a decision I made. Nothing will change that."

For as dire as the situation was, hearing those simple words from him made Roxanne's heart swell. Megamind was furious and he was grieving, and he had every right to be, but hearing his resolve about his own heroism lifted a weight from Roxanne - a weight she had felt growing increasingly larger since this confrontation had begun.

But it would be all right now.

He wouldn't be dragged down over this.

Megamind never gave up; he wouldn't give up this time, either.

Owen, on the other hand, made a derisive noise. "You think the people of this city - who you're so worried about protecting - actually care? About you?" He scoffed resentfully. "Please. They're sheep. They're lemmings. All of them. You know as well as I do that there isn't a single independent thought among them. One minute they're collectively booing you because you're the convenient villain; the next minute they're all cheering for you because you stepped in the fill the shoes of their old hero."

Owen threw his arm out toward the dark park beyond the building's walls, indicating the city once again. "Oh, and they need a hero, Mr. Mind. You know it, and I know it. They're lost without one. You've seen how they latch onto the first convenient champion to come along." He sneered disdainfully. "You think it actually matters to them whose statue is standing over the entrance to that museum?" he asked, pointing randomly into the empty space behind him. "For about five seconds, it could have been Titan, for crying out loud. So don't tell me the people of this city are actually capable of determining what's really evil and what's not. Or that they care."

Megamind glared hotly at the young man. His eyes were twin points of furious green fire.

Owen held up his free hand in a placating gesture. "I'm not saying you don't deserve to be respected," he mollified. "Or better yet, feared. I'm just saying you need to consider the source. They're just using you. Because you became the thing they needed at a time when they needed it."

Roxanne's fingertips suddenly brushed the barrel of the gun. She kept her eyes on Owen as she tried to stretch the remaining inches through the bars.

"And as for our Ms. Ritchi," Owen scoffed. "She's the worst of them all."

Roxanne froze as Owen said her name. Her eyes shot up toward him. For a moment she thought he had noticed her. When she realized what he had actually said, she had to physically hold herself back from spluttering at him in righteous indignation.

Megamind, however, did it for her. "What are you talking about?" he demanded as he took one final step toward Owen.

The young villain backed up automatically. The barrel of the gun settled securely into Roxanne's grip.

"I really hate that I have to be the one to tell you," Owen said anxiously, "because I know what they say about shooting the messenger. And I know you're already mad enough at me, but you really should know-"

At that moment, Roxanne tugged hard on the weapon in his fist, trying to wrench it free.

"HEY!" Owen shouted reflexively as he overbalanced and stumbled in the direction that Roxanne had yanked the gun. He didn't let go of it completely, however, and after about a second of disorientation, he grabbed onto it with his other hand, too. Roxanne quickly did the same, and soon found herself grappling with him over it.

Megamind darted forward the remaining feet. He made a beeline for Roxanne's side and reached out to grab the gun as well. Owen looked up as Megamind reached them, his eyes wide and wild with sudden panic.

"No, no!" he reflexively stammered, and he twisted the aim of the weapon with all his might. Roxanne refused to let go, even as Owen's abrupt tug slammed her forward against the cage bars. But it was enough for Owen to locate the trigger and pull it quickly.

By that time, Megamind had reached them, and the range was point-blank.

"Megamind!" Roxanne cried out as the surge of energy hit him squarely in the chest. He yelped as he flew backwards and tumbled head over feet across the hard surface of the floor. He came to a halt, face-down, a short distance away.

Roxanne continued to maintain her grip on the gun and turned her wide eyes back to Owen. He took advantage of her shock and twisted the weapon again. The new angle put pressure against the cut on her hand, and Roxanne reflexively cried out again. Owen still wasn't able to wrench the gun from her grasp, but he was able to alter the aim. When he pulled the trigger the second time, Roxanne felt as though a wrecking ball had struck her solidly in the stomach. Her feet left the floor briefly and she was propelled backward, tumbling over and over until she finally came to a rest on the other side of her cage. She struggled for several seconds to get her breath back.

When she was able to move, she looked up to see that Owen had flown backwards as well. The inertia from the blast must have added to the force he had already been exerting to wrestle the gun away from her. As he hit the floor, the sonic cannon went skidding off behind him, its barrel slamming loudly into the bars of another cage - ringing them like a gong.

Megamind groaned, planted his hands beneath him, and pushed himself up off his chest.

Owen rolled over onto his side and the two men stared at each other from across the floor for what felt like a solid minute. Then Megamind scrambled to his feet with a heavy grunt, wrapping one arm around his torso, and made a break for where the weapon had landed.

Owen, too, attempted to clamber into a standing position, stumbling awkwardly as he did so. His hand came down on his own cape and he nearly clotheslined himself in his attempt to get up. Abruptly, he gave up the race for the gun, and shoved his hand deep into one of his side pockets instead.

"Stop!" he shouted, holding up what he had retrieved.

Megamind froze and stared at the young man, who was panting and frantic. Roxanne had made it to her hands and knees and saw what Owen had removed from his pocket: it was one of the remote controls she had seen him charge up earlier.

"No, no, no, no," Owen intoned distractedly. "You're just making it all worse! Stop making it worse!" His body wavered as he tried clumsily to straighten himself, and Roxanne had a difficult time determining if his words were directed at her or at Megamind.

Or maybe he was even addressing himself.

Megamind, however, had abandoned his dash for the gun. He stood there, one arm still wrapped around his own chest, and squinting incredulously at the remote in Owen's hand. He blinked. "Doesn't that go to my-?"

Owen's shoulders were rising and falling heavily. "I wanted to make everything up to you," he said. "After today I knew it would be hard for you to see things my way, but I still had to try." Owen brought the remote down in front of his chest and began manipulating the small joystick on the front. "You have to believe that I only ever wanted to help you, Mr. Mind. And I realize I have a long way to go toward ever earning your trust - especially after what happened . . . with Minion-"

He pressed a button on the control device, and the light on top changed from orange to red.

"-So I got you the only thing I could think of that would be big enough to make up for it."

A door opened at the far end of the hallway. It was a large, metal entryway - like a hangar door - and it rattled and banged from years of neglect as it slowly slid open. It was similar to the door in Roxanne's cell, but much, much larger. There were no longer any bars surrounding it, but its sheer size hinted that it had once connected the inner and outer areas of what used to be an elephant enclosure.

What was coming through the door now, however, was not an elephant.

Owen went back to manipulating the remote in his hand as the spider-bot crawled silently into the room. Megamind turned to face the approaching machine. His lip curled and his eyes widened as he watched his creation advance under the control of someone else. Normally, Megamind's inventions all seemed to have their own personalities, but right now - just as it had back in the café - the spider-bot's demeanor was more like a will-less, soulless robot. The life that Megamind usually infused it with was missing.

It crawled up to Megamind and halted just a few feet in front of him. Roxanne could tell by the look on Megamind's face that he was horrified. Roxanne, for her part, wanted nothing more than for the mechanical arachnid to just recognize him . . . for it to do something - anything - familiar. But instead, it merely stood there, like an emotionless sentinel - vacant and empty - until a large claw emerged from a hatch on one side of the robot's chassis.

Megamind tensed and drew back a step, his wide eyes fixed on the spider-bot, but the claw did not attack him. Instead it reached backward into the space behind its own driver's seat.

Owen manipulated the remote for another moment and pressed a button. "I got you something," he repeated softly.

The claw lifted a large, heavy-looking bundle out from within the co*ckpit area. It sagged like a bulky, oversized sack of potatoes and was completely coated in a milky-white film that conformed perfectly to the object's shape.

Roxanne got to her feet and stared, feeling cold and inexorably shaken by what she was witnessing.

The spider-bot's claw hovered out in front of it briefly. Then Owen pressed a button on the remote and the claw opened, releasing its bundle.

Megamind's eyes widened even further as Wayne Scott was dumped into a graceless heap directly at his feet.

To be continued . . .

Chapter 14: Boiling Point

Chapter Text

Chapter 14 - Boiling Point

Roxanne was only distantly aware of the spider-bot silently crawling outside again, retreating back to the open-air section of the old elephant paddock. Wayne had been dumped half onto his side, where he briefly remained in a motionless, hunched pile. A moment later, he attempted to twist his torso and push himself into a more upright position. As he moved, beads of rainwater rolled across the surface of the boa plasma in strange, shimmery rivulets. They puddled on the floor around Wayne's body. He and the spider-bot must have been outside this entire time.

At first Megamind didn't move. He stood frozen and staring at the oversized offering that now lay at his feet. Roxanne could see that his eyes were still wide and his expression still aghast, but after a few moments of watching him, she also began to see a flicker of something else in his face.

Something very familiar.

Her gaze quickly shifted back to Wayne. Although Roxanne was relieved to finally see him again, it was obvious that he wasn't faring any better than he had been the last time she had seen him. The boa plasma was still molded to every inch of his body, and every movement he made appeared strenuous and difficult - as though he was physically wrestling against his own super strength just to do something as simple as raise his head. Seeing him like this was both surreal and scary for Roxanne. In many ways, it was even worse than the memory of a flayed skeleton strewn upon the fake observatory floor.

Because this time, it wasn't just a charade.

This time, it really was Metro Man - sprawled at the feet of his former nemesis, slumped in an undignified heap, and struggling just to move.

Wayne grunted with exertion as, inch-by-inch, he fought to twist and lift his body. If anything, he seemed to be struggling even more than he had before. The time spent trapped inside that substance must have really been taking its toll. His gritted teeth and the strain in his chiseled jaw betrayed the effort he was expending to just push himself up from his position on the floor. His head drooped and his hair created a shaggy curtain over his eyes. His shoulders sloped tensely as he tried to get one arm propped beneath him.

After what felt like an endless stretch of time, Megamind finally moved. He approached Wayne slowly, never once taking his eyes off him.

Roxanne watched as the new expression she had seen flicker across Megamind's face a moment ago began to become much clearer - much more defined. She knew that look; she knew it very well. She had seen it on him countless times before - back when he had still been a villain, as well as since he had become a hero. On Megamind's expressive face, it was unmistakable.

It was a look of utter fascination.

Megamind stopped directly in front of Wayne's prone form and, after a brief pause, crouched slowly down to his former rival's level. He barely blinked as he took in every facet of what was in front of him. His head co*cked to the side and his huge, inquisitive green eyes flitted back and forth rapidly. They roved over every detail before them, gazing curiously and clinically as Wayne continued his strenuous efforts to raise himself.

After another moment of intense scrutiny, Megamind sank all the way to one knee and leaned forward against his arm. Then he reached out, placed his other hand beneath Wayne's scruffy chin, and guided the former hero's head upward so they were finally looking each other squarely in the face.

Roxanne's lips parted and she inhaled a small, startled breath. She recalled the day, not very long ago, when Megamind had first demonstrated the effects of the paradox gun to her. He had said that once an object was encased in the cloudy plasma its movements were extremely limited, but that external forces could act upon it without much difficulty. Roxanne could now truly see what he had meant by that. Up to this point, Wayne's own movements had been strained, difficult, and tense, however when Megamind had reached forward and raised his chin, the action looked almost as effortless as . . .

Well, . . . as effortless as anything Metro Man, himself, had ever done.

Megamind said nothing at first, but continued to stare, captivated. He tilted Wayne's head from one side to the other, examining him closely - almost scientifically - and looking every bit as spellbound as he had the day he and Roxanne had first discovered Wayne alive in the bunker beneath the old schoolhouse by the lake.

Wayne, on the other hand, had no choice but to yield to the movement of Megamind's hand. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but all he seemed capable of right now was heavy, labored breathing. Roxanne wasn't surprised; he had been fighting the boa plasma for hours.

After another moment, Megamind reached forward with his other hand and took hold of one of Wayne's arms. He slid the limb forward so it could serve as a support for Wayne's upper body, propping him up off the floor so he wouldn't fall forward again.

Roxanne couldn't help but think of an artist molding clay as she watched Megamind easily manipulate Wayne's body position - in a way that Wayne, even with all his super strength, had been unable to do for himself a moment ago.

For another minute or so, Megamind's huge, fascinated eyes drank in every detail of the tableau before him. Then he paused, his head once again tilting curiously. He looked Wayne fully in the face again and finally spoke.

His words, however, were not directed at Wayne.

"What is he doing here?" he asked Owen pointedly.

Owen's body gave an awkward shift. He looked back and forth in slight confusion, mutely gesturing with his open hand for a moment, then his arms dropped unceremoniously to his sides. The hand holding the spider-bot's remote just sort of sagged beside his hip. He looked puzzled.

"Why is he here?" he replied incredulously. Clearly Megamind's question wasn't the one he had been expecting. "Well . . . I mean, it's . . ." Owen's lips twisted bemusedly and his features set into an odd, perplexed squint. "I-it's Metro Man," he concluded, as though that were explanation enough, and motioned feebly forward with both hands.

Megamind finally turned his head to the baffled young man, giving him a measured, peevish look over his shoulder. His previously wide eyes had narrowed into a stern glare.

"I can see that it's Metro Man," he retorted edgily. "That wasn't what I asked." Megamind rose to his feet again and faced Owen directly, leaving Wayne propped heavily against his own arm. "What I fail to see is how his presence here factors into your city-wide grudge."

Owen looked taken aback. He blinked in silence for a moment. Then his mouth began to move wordlessly, like a stranded fish. It was several seconds before he was able to force any sound out. "But I thought you . . . I-I mean he was-" he stammered, ineffectually fidgeting with the spider-bot's remote control as he spoke. "He's your enemy."

Megamind arched one eyebrow impassively. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the flustered young man. "Again," he droned coldly, "I'm very much aware of who he is. If there's a point to all this, though, Owen, I'm still waiting to hear it."

Owen shifted again, and Roxanne could see his face growing steadily paler. "I-I told you," he stuttered uncomfortably. "I needed to make up for . . . for what I did. I needed something big - something important. So . . ." Owen gestured insistently toward Wayne's large, hunched form on the floor. His voice began to rise with what sounded like hints of panic. "He's yours," he insisted. "I-I got him for you."

Megamind sneered. His green eyes reignited with unmistakable flashing traces of intense anger. He took a step forward and surveyed the young man icily. "So what you mean to say is: this was your purpose in stealing my belongings," he said. It wasn't a question.

Owen instantly blanched. "Oh," he gasped as some sort of realization seemed to dawn on him. The hand that was gripping the spider-bot's remote began to tremble. "No, Mr. Mind. I wasn't trying to take a victory away from you, I just . . ." He swallowed hard. "I-I thought you'd be pleased." His voice had gotten very small.

Owen slid the remote control back into one of his side pockets - possibly so it wouldn't clatter out of his grip - and took a slow, nervous step forward. He cleared his throat in what was probably an attempt to force some strength back into his voice. He raised his empty hands entreatingly out in front of him.

"This was the only thing I could think of to give you to . . ." Owen winced. ". . . to make things up to you. I wanted to prove to you: I really am on your side."

His pleading hands curled into fists as he continued to hold them toward Megamind. "Your sworn enemy is completely at your mercy," he said breathlessly. "I may have found him for you, but it was all because of you that he was defeated." Owen's eyes brightened slightly as he spoke. "You know it, I know it, and soon the whole city will know it, too. You finally did it!"

Roxanne watched as the young man struggled to vindicate himself. His throat worked anxiously as he attempted to swallow down some of the obvious dread that had begun building up inside him.

"I read the notations you made in your database - especially the ones about the paradox gun," he explained. "I saw your theory about what it could do - even to someone with Metro Man's powers. And you were right. It worked! Just like you said it would!"

Roxanne could see Owen's eyes begin to spark back to life as he continued and it caused her stomach to turn uneasily. His initial panic was beginning to ebb away, his face was growing more and more elated, and his brown eyes were becoming bright and manic.

"I pulled the trigger," he confirmed, "but you . . . you made it all possible. It was your genius that finally put Metro Man in his place, once and for all. You're the one who actually defeated him, Mr. Mind . . ." Owen straightened his shoulders and a small, self-satisfied smile returned to his face. "And I was the one who helped you."

Megamind didn't respond to that. He merely continued to stare Owen down, just as he had been doing for the past several minutes. Owen's excessive flattery had clearly done nothing to quell the anger that seemed to be coming off Megamind's lean shoulders in waves.

Owen's excited smile faltered and weakened until it finally slipped entirely from his face. His body twitched nervously and his lip curled. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he muttered, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Then his voice began to rise. "What did I do wrong?" He instinctively backed up a step.

Megamind did not respond.

"I was only trying to help," Owen insisted adamantly, his voice pitching higher as he went on. His empty fists began to clench and unclench at his sides. "And I only did it because there was no way for you to have known-"

Then he stopped. He blinked. And a shadow of sudden suspicion crossed his features.

"Mr. Mind, you-" He paused and glanced back and forth between Megamind and the crumpled form of Metro Man. Megamind had completely turned his back to the hero at his feet, and had not acknowledged him since he had begun speaking to Owen. The young villain's head gave a twitchy little shake and he narrowed his gaze. "You knew, didn't you?" he said. His voice had become raspy. "You knew Metro Man wasn't really dead."

Megamind glared at the young man. A small, dour smirk began to twist at the corner of his lips. "Of course I knew," he replied matter-of-factly. "What do you take me for?"

At that, Owen's wide eyes seemed to go slightly out of focus with shock. He stared vacantly into the middle distance between him and Megamind. His thoughts must have been racing because at least a dozen different expressions flickered across his face in only a few short seconds. Then his brows knitted together and his confusion turned sharply into a very clear, very pronounced, anger.

"But," he countered, "all this time?" His eyes focused back on Megamind's face and his voice rose stridently with indignation. His shoulders began to rise and fall in quick, large movements. "He's been hiding right in front of you! For a whole year! And you're saying you knew?"

Megamind's shoulders straightened slightly and he almost seemed to give them a nonchalant shrug. "Of course," he repeated. He raised an index finger to tap it pointedly against his own temple. "I'm a super genius, Owen. There's very little I don't know."

Owen fumed. His hands tightened into quivering fists at his sides. Roxanne imagined that the young villain was quite literally witnessing the last vestiges of his plan crumble to pieces right in front of him. His citywide bombings had been stopped, he hadn't been able to coerce Megamind into returning to villainy, and now his attempt to use Wayne as a bargaining chip - a "gift" to help make amends - was a complete failure.

Roxanne grinned knowingly.

The "Fire Bug" was about to go down in flames.

Owen's body was quaking with barely contained fury as he locked eyes with Megamind across the short distance between them. Traces of hurt, anger, frustration, and betrayal flashed in quick succession over his face. He took a deep, heavy breath in through his nose, like a bull mustering itself up for a final charge.

"I see," the young man hissed bitterly. Then he shrugged. "So I guess that means you also knew about his little afternoon trysts with your girlfriend."

Megamind sniffed derisively.

"Naturally, I-"

Then he stopped, blinked, and stiffened.

"What?"

"What?" Roxanne also said, at nearly the exact same moment. But while Megamind's voice had suddenly gone quiet, hers was sharp and astonished as she stared, wide-eyed, at Owen.

Owen, on the other hand, slowly began to regain some of his lost composure. The anger in his face smoothed out a bit as he glanced from Megamind to Roxanne and back again. His eyes narrowed archly and a small, scornful smile started to curl on the corner of his lips.

"Oh," he said in a tone that was both innocent and scathing. "Guess that one slipped past you, huh?"

Roxanne's features melted into a scowl, but only briefly. Once she had shaken off the initial shock of what he had just said, part of her almost wanted to laugh. The young villain had been dropping hints all afternoon about revealing some sort of "truth" to Megamind - presumably about her. Now that the revelation had come out, however, it seemed almost too ridiculous for words.

That was it? That was Owen's last-ditch effort to win Megamind over? He was trying to make it seem as though she had secretly been seeing Wayne?

Roxanne's lips curved into a wry smirk and she audibly scoffed.

Megamind knew full well that she and Wayne had never been a couple, so Owen wasn't going to get anywhere with this plan either.

Megamind's body gave a visible little shake. He may have been slightly slower to recover from Owen's announcement than Roxanne had been, but eventually he, too, had banished any residual surprise that had been evident on his face. Once again, he was frowning balefully at the young villain. He crossed his arms over his chest and arched one eyebrow in irritation. "Don't be ridiculous," he said.

"Right," Owen countered. He shrugged contemptuously. "I guess it could just be a coincidence that I happened to find them both in the same place at the same time today." He crossed his arms over his own chest, mirroring Megmind's posture, then he crooked one finger against his chin in mock thoughtfulness. "But how to explain all those other times . . ." He also raised his eyebrow as his voice trailed off suggestively.

At that, Roxanne began to see red. She had heard enough. She was perfectly happy to let Owen's absurd claims crash and burn on their own, but she simply wouldn't stand here and allow him to make blatant, ugly insinuations about her - or about Wayne, for that matter. And she absolutely refused to allow him to attempt to use her as a means of getting under Megamind's skin.

She was finished being the villain's bait.

She reached forward and gripped the bars tightly. "That's the big revelation you've been threatening to make?" she spat indignantly, shaking her head. "You are so far off-base, Owen, it's not even funny."

"I'm sorry." The young villain faced her challengingly. "Is it customary to canoodle in public with one's presumed-dead ex during lunch break?" One of Owen's hands slid down his side and disappeared into his pocket again. "Because I've gotta say, it strikes me as a little suspicious." His voice purposely emphasized the last word, playfully but contemptuously.

Roxanne glared daggers at him. "Oh, you've really got some nerve, you know that?" she snarled. "But here's a news flash for you, Fire Bug: Megamind and I both knew Metro Man wasn't dead - for a long time, in fact." She clutched the bars tighter and looked Owen directly in the eyes. "So you can come up with all the vicious fabrications you want," she sneered, "but nothing you say is ever going to work."

Owen's lips twisted into a disdainful grin. "Oh, I don't need to say anything, Ms. Ritchi," he replied. There was a click-clack sound from across the room as the projector he had set up earlier sprang to life. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Not when these say about a thousand words a piece."

Owen's nasty smirk widened as he drew his hand from his pocket and held up the small, thumb-sized remote control he had used previously to turn the machine on. At first, there was only bright, white light illuminating the screen. Then, with another click-clack, an image slid into place.

Roxanne's eyes focused on it. A moment later, her stomach gave a distinct twist.

On the screen was an enlarged photograph of both her and Wayne, sitting together at the Café Beanery. Roxanne barely blinked as she studied the frozen image of her own face casting an earnest, glowing smile in her companion's direction. She was leaning across the surface of the small table between them, covering his large hand gently with her small one. Her expression radiated sincere affection, which Wayne returned in kind. His smile, beneath the shadow of his fedora, was lopsided, sweet, and far more genuine than the former, toothy grin of his heroic alter-ego.

At the sight of the picture, Roxanne suddenly couldn't breathe. She remembered that day very well. After all, the first time she had encountered Wayne at the café hadn't been that long ago. By itself, this captured moment was innocent and innocuous. If Roxanne remembered correctly, she and Wayne had even been discussing Megamind at the time - which would probably explain the faint blush dusting her cheeks in the photo. However, the method by which Owen had chosen to present it-

. . . Highlighting the openness of her smile, the happy shine in her blue eyes, the intimacy of their touching hands, the unguarded warmth in Wayne's honest face as he looked back at her . . .

-Owen had managed to turn it into something perverse.

Super-villainy. The thought struck Roxanne like a sledgehammer. It's all about presentation.

Owen clicked onto another slide. This one was similar to the first, but Roxanne noticed that her outfit was different. It was the one she had been wearing the day of the Metro Tower bombing. The new image depicted her and Wayne, once again sitting together, and leaning conspiratorially toward each other from across the table. On Roxanne's face was a bright, playful grin.

The next slide showed her once again in her original outfit. (Another from the first day, apparently.) Roxanne was lightly squeezing Wayne's arm and her eyes were slanted into a beguiling, sultry gaze - as though the camera had captured the image just as she had been batting her eyes dramatically. The frozen moment made her look excessively flirtatious.

The click-clack sound of the projector continued to echo through the hallway as Owen pressed his thumb upon the remote and the picture changed yet again.

By now, Roxanne's face was burning and her entire body was trembling with abject fury over Owen's outrageous new attempt at manipulation. Yet through it all, Megamind had yet to say a word. As Roxanne turned her head to finally meet his eyes, she expected to see his expression mirroring the incredulousness in her own.

What she saw instead was like a punch to the gut.

He wasn't even looking at her. His huge, green eyes were intensely fixated on the screen in a stunned, unblinking stare. His lips were parted slightly and he looked positively aghast as he stood across from her, silently frozen to the spot.

Roxanne's stomach turned. She had been so certain that his reactions would reflect hers: anger, indignation, and outrage over the sheer impossibility of Owen's claims. She wouldn't even have been surprised if, after a beat, Megamind had struck an overly-dramatic stance, as he was prone to do, smirked widely, and shot down Owen's last-ditch effort with a robust laugh and some well-placed banter.

But she hadn't expected this. Not this silent, desolate shock. Not after the months she and Megamind had spent together. Not after he had changed so much . . . after everything he had done for this city . . . after what he and Roxanne had shared. He had to know how much she cared for him. He had to know she would never . . .

But as she looked at him now, her heart spasmed with what felt like a very palpable stab of pain. Right before her eyes, Megamind's larger-than-life confidence had suddenly vanished. Every buried anxiety he had ever felt seemed to flash inexorably through his over-bright eyes. Every suppressed insecurity he had ever suffered as a result of his isolated and solitary life played across his expressive face in horrific detail.

The weight of it made Roxanne feel physically ill.

And as Megamind's jaw throbbed slightly, as his throat forced down a silent swallow, and as the relentlessly hollow echo of the rain pounded against the outside of the building, Roxanne vividly recalled where she had seen that expression before . . .

It had been raining that night, too.

God. Oh, God.

"Megamind."

She had intended to get his attention using a confident tone - something bold and strengthening to counteract the damage Owen was attempting to do. She had wanted her voice to anchor him, to assure him that what he was seeing simply wasn't true. That while the pictures were real, the sentiment displayed in them was an embellished lie. But when Roxanne spoke his name, the word instead slipped out in a breathless, desperate whisper.

Megamind did not react to the sound of her voice, however, and his eyes remained glued to the pictures on the screen.

Roxanne desperately wished she could go back in time and tell Megamind right away about running into Wayne at the coffee shop. At first, it hadn't seemed important, and later, when Wayne had asked her not to mention it, she had attempted to honor that request. But now . . .

"Megamind," she tried again, "please, listen to me-"

More than anything, she wanted to tell him that the afternoons she had spent with Wayne were nothing - that they had meant nothing. But that would have been a lie, too. Through those meetings, Wayne had become her friend - after years of merely being participants in an elaborate role-playing game, they had finally, truly forged a real friendship. And to deny him now - especially after what he had sacrificed today to protect her - would be equally cruel. She couldn't do that to Wayne; she couldn't treat him like he didn't matter - like what he had done for her didn't matter. She owed him at least that much.

No.

She needed to make this right. For both men. Roxanne Ritchi was not a woman who gave up easily, and she wouldn't give up now. Especially not now.

She took a deep breath, gathered herself, and forced some strength into her voice. "Megamind," she said, clearly and steadily, "you need to understand me. Wayne and I are friends. We're not-"

A small chuckle interrupted her from Owen's direction and she angrily shifted her gaze. He was standing there, arms crossed, and smirking at her.

"Oh no, go on," he urged lightly with an encouraging brush of his hand. "I did say I wanted to see you look him in the eye and try to deny this."

At that, Roxanne completely rounded him. "How dare you!" she exploded. "You manipulative little monster!"

A memory suddenly hit Roxanne. Her eyes widened then narrowed, flashing at him venomously. "You were the one who bumped into me, weren't you?" she said accusingly. "That day in the coffee shop." Her fists clenched and unclenched with barely contained rage. "The guy with the cell phone." She co*cked her head at him with a sneer. "Let me guess: camera?"

Owen smirked nastily.

The projector click-clacked again and again and the barrage of photographs continued their assault:

. . . Roxanne casting her eyes bashfully downward as she coyly swept her bangs across her forehead . . .

. . . Wayne propping his chin against the dome of his interlaced fingers as he leaned toward her from across the table, a wistful look on his face . . .

. . . Even more shots of Roxanne touching Wayne's arm or holding Wayne's hand . . .

. . . Meaningful, playful glances over the rim of a cup of coffee . . .

And through it all, Megamind stood frozen and thunderstruck, his rapt attention hostage to the images on the screen.

Roxanne squeezed her eyes shut until her head ached. She pressed the tight fists of both hands firmly against her temples. "Stop this," she said with a gasp. "Stop it!"

Owen paused and looked from her to the projector screen to Megamind and back again. By now he had managed to regain much of the confidence he had lost earlier, and when he spoke there was an unmistakable, villainous swagger in his voice.

"But Ms. Ritchi," he said with a cruel smile, "this last one is my favorite."

The click-clack of the machine echoed one more time through the hall. Roxanne opened her eyes, which felt slightly moist, and stared in horror at the final image.

In the photo, she was standing beside Wayne's chair, leaning down to his level and placing a tender kiss upon his cheek. Her eyes were closed softly, and one of her hands was gently cradling the other side of his face as her lips pressed against his skin.

When this had actually happened, the kiss had been quick, affectionate, and friendly. But this picture - from the angle of the shot to the focus on her face - made it seem much more meaningful . . . personal . . .

Intimate.

Roxanne let out a frustrated, anguished moan and gripped the bars in front of her - not certain she would be able to stand up straight otherwise.

Megamind blinked hard and finally managed to shift his attention away from the images on the projector screen. His wide eyes stared straight ahead, making little, darting movements within their sockets but focusing on nothing in particular. His thin chest expanded rhythmically with short, shallow breaths. Judging by the expression on his face, his thoughts were probably racing uncontrollably.

Roxanne pulled herself against the bars and searched his face intently. She wanted to reach out to him, but he was standing just out of range. ". . . Megamind . . ."

Owen mercifully scrolled past the final image, leaving the screen white and blank once more. Then, with a click of the remote, he shut the projector off.

"Look," he said carefully, "I know you probably feel like shooting the messenger. And believe me, after what happened today, I wouldn't blame you. But you needed to know about this, Mr. Mind." He slid the remote back into his pocket and took a cautious step toward Megamind, his empty hands raised in a calming gesture. "You needed to see it for yourself," he emphasized. "Your heroism is based on a lie. The people of this city don't care about you. Your girlfriend was just using you. And your old nemesis was hiding out under your nose." He sneered hostilely. "They must have been laughing so hard behind your back. Both of them."

"He's lying," Roxanne interjected angrily. Her voice was gravelly, but she had managed to make it calm and steady. "Megamind, I told you how things were. Last year, remember? Please tell me you're not believing this."

Megamind continued to stare off into space, his shoulders rising and falling in small, shallow movements as he breathed. Owen slightly shifted his position and attempted to move directly into Megamind's line of sight.

"I know you probably hate me right now," Owen said, his voice quiet and pacifying. "I know I have a long way to go toward earning any kind of trust. But I think, in time, you'll see I was right. I couldn't let them keep making a fool of you like that. They turned you into something you spent your entire life fighting against - something completely against your nature - then they indulged in their own agenda when your back was turned."

"No," Roxanne countered again, vehemently. "Megamind, you know that isn't true. None of it. I would never hurt you. And neither would Wayne." She wrapped her hands around the bars again and tried to will Megamind to look at her. "It was just coffee with a friend," she said adamantly. "And a creep with a camera and too much time on his hands," she added, casting a vicious, accusatory glare in Owen's direction.

Owen, however, continued to ignore her. He swallowed hard and stretched a pleading hand outward. "I spent most of my life planning to measure up to the villain that you were," he said as he then placed that hand over the beetle on his chest. "Let me try now, please. I'm the only one here who's really on your side."

Roxanne tightened her grip on the bars so much that the cut on her hand throbbed almost unbearably. "I'm warning you, Owen," she said. Her throat felt tight and her voice was low and dangerous. "I told you I wouldn't let you get away with dragging him down."

Owen finally cast her a sidelong glare. His eyes narrowed. "Check the mirror, Ms. Ritchi," he countered. "I'm not the one who did this. I just showed him what he needed to see."

"Who are you kidding?" Roxanne hissed darkly. "You didn't do this for him." Her stiff body trembled and her eyes began to sting. "You are selfish, and you're manipulative, Owen, and I promise you: I will find a way to make you pay for doing this."

Owen's lip curled. "And I told you to just try it," he retorted. "Take your best shot."

". . . Enough . . ."

Both Roxanne and Owen turned at the raspy sound of Megamind's voice.

Megamind's eyes slid closed for a moment. When he reopened them, they had regained some of their focus. He aimed them pointedly in Owen's direction first, regarding the young villain with a stony glare. "I've heard enough."

For several seconds, there was only a profound, eerie silence in the stuffy air of the old zoo. Then it was broken again by a heavy, labored sound rising up from beside Megamind's feet.

". . . Little buddy . . ."

Roxanne looked down and gasped. Wayne had somehow managed to shift his position on the floor so he was now angled toward them. His face was lined with exertion. He must have put up a huge struggle against the boa plasma to move his body, even such a small distance, but he had managed to prop himself up and raise his head. His steel-blue eyes were focused intently on Megamind above him and his shoulders rose and fell with deep, strenuous breaths.

"Little buddy," he said again, his voice heavy with effort. "It's not . . ." he grunted, ". . . not what you think."

Megamind tilted his head to stare down at the prone form beside him. For a moment, his eyes appeared curious again as they regarded Wayne. Then, suddenly, a shuddering spasm went through Megamind's shoulders. His fists seemed to reflexively curl into themselves at his sides, his expression darkened, and his bright eyes narrowed angrily.

He shook his head and let out a small scoff. "Not . . . what I think?"

Roxanne noticed a distinct, biting aggression in his response. Hearing it sent a shiver over her skin.

Megamind refocused his eyes on Wayne and turned to face him more fully. Then he bent down closer to him. "You . . ." he continued, his voice rising slightly in pitch. "You think you actually know . . . what I'm thinking?" He gave another little, mock chortle. "I assure you: you do not have the slightest idea what is running through my head right now." His face hovered very close to Wayne's as he spoke, and his impossibly green eyes seemed to ignite like a solar fire.

Roxanne set her jaw and narrowed her eyes. "Megamind," she said steadily, pulling herself up against the bars again. "Please, you need to focus. Owen wants you to blame-"

A second quick, sharp scoff interrupted her and Megamind's mouth twisted into a sardonic, humorless smile. It was enough to startle Roxanne into silence. He didn't turn his head to look at her, however; he kept his full attention on Wayne.

"Oh, I'm very much aware of what the delinquent is trying to do," he replied. His eyes slid upward and fixed themselves briefly on Owen, who shifted nervously beneath the acid-tint of his glare. Megamind then straightened to his full height and refocused his eyes back downward onto Wayne.

"I am a superiorly intelligent being," he pointed out casually as he began taking slow steps around Wayne's body. "I can recognize a rudimentary attempt at mani-pul-ation when I see it. I cannot be swayed by such things."

His voice had noticeably lightened, but his body language acutely reminded Roxanne of a circling predator. Despite his claim, something about the way he mispronounced the word "manipulation" - with a longer "oo" sound in the middle than needed - created a deep, uneasy feeling in the pit of Roxanne's stomach. She swallowed hard against it as her eyes continued to follow him.

Megamind looked down at Wayne again and the muscles in his face gave a distasteful twitch. "But as someone with such advanced intellect," he went on, gesturing conversationally with his hands as he spoke, "it's a particularly thorny problem when I encounter a question I'm unable to answer. I admit, I don't like being faced with things I can't understand."

When he had completed his circle, he stopped, lowered his hands, and looked directly down at Wayne again. "This particular question has plagued me for years," he said. "For a short time, I actually thought I had moved beyond the need to answer it." His jaw shifted from side to side, as though he was grinding his back teeth. The fingers of one hand twitched and clenched, then relaxed again at his side. "It seems I was mistaken."

Wayne kept his focus on Megamind's face. He breathed steadily and heavily.

For a brief moment, Megamind continued to regard his former rival blankly, his lips forming a thin, pale line. Then his features darkened considerably and he leaned down closer to Wayne's level. "Perhaps you can answer it for me, old friend," he said coldly, growling the last two words out through his teeth as though they were a curse. He brought his face very near to Wayne's and hissed, "Is there nothing I won't lose because of you?"

Roxanne felt her insides squirm. "Megamind," she said. For an instant her voice was breathy and alarmed, but the she quickly added some force to it. "Megamind, look at me."

But he didn't. His eyes were burning as they fixed upon the man before him.

Wayne's jaw clenched. "Listen," he finally said in retaliation. His voice was gentle, but heavy with obvious effort. "I know how this must look, but-"

Megamind abruptly straightened, as though physically pushing himself away. "Oh, I don't think you do!" he exclaimed as he threw his hands up in a show of exasperation and backed away from Wayne. "I mean, honestly. Didn't you already have enough?"

Roxanne gave a start at the sudden shift in him. One moment, Megamind's entire body was trembling with a tight, seething anger, and the next he had all but exploded into a much more exclamatory, ranting kind of frustration. She was used to seeing such quick mood swings in him, but something about this one was different.

Then Megamind's brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth pulled down. He sighed, deflating. "Didn't you already have everything?"

The anger seemed to vanish completely, as quickly as it had come. Megamind's tone had softened, the reproach had left him, and the aggression had died. His last statement had barely been above a whisper, but Roxanne had noticed a distinct catch in his voice as he'd said it.

Her heart sank.

Wayne, however, frowned back. He shifted his weight as much as he could manage and his jaw tightened with challenge. "Everything?" he repeated. "You want to talk about 'everything'?" His words were still strained, but he was able to force some strength into them as he spoke. "Take a closer look, little buddy," he said as he managed to raise the fingers of the arm he was propped against and gesture to himself with them. "Does it really look like I have so much to brag about?"

Megamind stared back for a few seconds. Then his expression jarred abruptly out of neutral. Just as quickly as it had drained out of him, the anger was back.

"Oh, spare me!" he countered with a defiant snarl. "Don't pretend for a minute that you didn't choose this." He gestured widely with his arms. "What? Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? Just because things didn't turn out the way you planned? Please. You're talking to the guy who raised failure to an art form." Megamind narrowed his eyes and glared unforgivingly at his former adversary. "You may not be satisfied with the results, but make no mistake: this was your choice."

While Megamind had been speaking, Roxanne had caught a glimpse of Owen out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to get a better look. The young man was simply standing there, looking both dumbfounded and intrigued by the scene playing out before them. He didn't look as though he had been expecting this, but he didn't appear disappointed by the spectacle either.

At least he didn't seem to be posing any additional threat.

Roxanne quickly turned back to Megamind. He was flourishing one hand in small circles through the air. "Why is it," he mused with a distasteful sneer, "that whenever the great Metro Man gets dissatisfied with his life, everything and everyone around him is just collateral damage?" Megamind fell into a crouch in front of Wayne. "Care to answer that one?" He leaned forward and insinuated himself deep into his rival's space. The two men were nearly nose-to-nose.

Wayne grimaced, but looked resolutely back at Megamind. "Little buddy-"

"Shut up!" Megamind cut him off sharply with an abrasive hiss. "Just shut up." He squeezed his eyes closed momentarily, and trembled. When he reopened them, they were once again alight with absolute fury. He straightened to a standing position, his spine poker-straight and tense. "Don't you dare patronize me," he spat. "At what point in our entire sordid history together did you ever get the impression that we were friends?"

Wayne's eyes widened and he seemed to recoil as though he had been struck.

Owen simply stood there - jaw hanging open as though it had broken a hinge.

Roxanne gasped at the undisguised venom in Megamind's voice. Over the past year, she had come to realize just how much he had actually admired his former adversary. And just a few hours ago, Roxanne had been so certain that Megamind would have been more than receptive to Wayne's offer of friendship. But now . . .

Now the sense of betrayal radiating off him was practically tangible. It was surreal and exceedingly unlike him. Which made it truly frightening.

"Our symbiotic relationship didn't exactly benefit us both, you know," Megamind continued, scoffing harshly. "Oh, you got what you wanted," he spat accusingly and began to pace the length of the floor in front of Wayne's body. "You always got what you wanted." His hands clenched and unclenched tightly as he stalked back and forth. "You set your sights on being a shiny, flawless hero-" Megamind shrugged. "-so I obliged. I was the perfect, diabolical yin to your yang, after all. All those years. The ideal Dark, Dashing Villain to your Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes. "

Megamind regarded Wayne with a sidelong glare. Sharp, angry lines marred the smooth planes of his face. "Until you got bored, of course, and decided you wanted a game change," he hissed viciously. "And, once again, it was all about what you wanted. For the record: I was perfectly fine with things as they were. But, no. No, you decided that you'd rather loaf around in your bathrobe, plucking guitar strings and growing unsightly facial hair."

Roxanne noticed a flash of confusion flicker over Owen's face at that last bit of information, but he remained rapt and silent.

"So, fine," Megamind conceded with another exaggerated shrug. He prowled back up to Wayne and loomed menacingly over him. "I took your cast-offs. I let you cast me in the role you no longer wanted. And you know what?" He sneered. "I was good at it."

"I know." Wayne attempted a weak smile. "I heard."

Megamind leered spitefully. "So it seems."

Immobile as he was, Wayne actually seemed to rear back at that. Then his brows pinched together sharply and he, too, began to get angry. "Look, Megamind," he asserted insistently, "I know you're upset, but you need to get a grip. You really are getting the wrong idea about all this. Roxanne and I are friends - just like she said. You can think whatever you want about me, but you can't honestly believe she would-"

Wayne's words cut off by a sudden bark of unsettling laughter. It was a joyless, hostile sound that seemed to boil up slowly from deep within Megamind's chest. The sound of it prickled the hairs on Roxanne's arms and raised tiny bumps across the surface of her skin. It was noticeably different from the carefully-crafted evil cackle to which she had grown so accustomed over the years - those laughs had always been so full of exuberance, even delight. This one wasn't overly theatrical, but it did have a hollow force to it that somehow filled the small room, rolling off the walls with the same intensity as thunder over clouds.

Megamind fixed his angry eyes on Wayne again. "You actually think this is about me being jealous?" he asked. His voice was low and tight with obvious emotion, as well as the lingering remnants of his previous laughter.

Roxanne's lips parted slowly and her eyes narrowed. She shifted them between the two men. She wasn't sure she understood what was going on either. If this hadn't been a reaction to those photographs, then what was it?

Megamind shook his head and his features hardened. He leaned down further into Wayne's space once again. "No, this isn't about jealousy," he snarled. "In fact, I'm finished being jealous of you. This is about the detrimental effect your very existence continues to have on my life. It's about the fact that everything I've ever done, for better or worse, has somehow been influenced by you. And-" He straightened abruptly and thrust out an accusing arm, pointing severely at Owen, who jolted back. "-it's about the fact that delusional idiots like this one think my life is still defined by your presence in it."

Megamind's body went so rigid that he trembled, his pointing arm shuddering, even as his eyes remained steadily locked on Wayne's. Then he drew back the finger that was pinning Owen to the spot and lowered his arm back to his side.

The young man finally shifted, expelling a breath, as though he had been physically released from some invisible bonds. Megamind's hand curled into a trembling fist beside his thigh. He continued to scowl down at Wayne. His shoulders rose and fell slowly.

"The reason he came to my lair today was because of you," Megamind said, his voice softer, but with a noticeable quiver. "Except I wasn't the one who found him there."

Roxanne's body suddenly turned cold. Her fingers went loose around the bars in front of her. A moment later, both hands had slowly risen to cover her mouth. She had no idea how long she stood there, frozen.

"Oh, my God," she finally breathed. Minion.

Wayne's eyes went very wide. His jaw worked wordlessly for a moment before he could force out any sound. "You mean-?"

"There," Megamind affirmed with a curt nod, a riptide of tension churning beneath the surface of his skin. "Now you know what I'm thinking." His jaw clenched and a muscle in it throbbed like a pulse. "This parasitic pyromaniac may have been the one who pulled the trigger-" Megamind's eyes glinted. "-but you were the reason he was there."

For Roxanne, all the air was suddenly suctioned out of the room. Her wind felt cut off, as though she had been punched in the gut. Even the noise of the rain outside seemed to have been filtered away and the air of the old zoo hung thick with a mixture of eerie silence and a steady, phantom ringing in her ears.

Megamind was staring at Wayne, the green of his eyes roiling like a celestial storm. Then he glanced slowly to his left and back again. He straightened to his full height, set his shoulders back, and co*cked his head to one side. The features on his face smoothed to a sudden and almost impossible calm. "And maybe I just don't want you influencing my life anymore," he said. "Hero."

Then he turned on his heel and stalked swiftly down the hall to his left - to where the dehydration gun had come to rest beside a pile of rubble. He scooped it up in a quick, fluid motion and strode with deliberate purpose back toward Wayne again.

Roxanne felt her insides jolt and she immediately reached for the bars again. "Megamind!" she protested, feeling the word tumble from her mouth before she was even fully conscious of saying it. Her brain had begun flying in several different directions at once . . .

. . . The paradox gun . . . the dehydration gun . . . the fact that getting rid of the boa plasma meant destroying whatever was trapped inside it . . . the suddenly horrifying memory of the lair's floor littered with small chunks of barely identifiable debris . . .

That last detail was what she had feared most ever since Wayne had succumbed to the blast from the paradox gun in the café. In the back of Roxanne's mind, however, she had never doubted that Megamind would work tirelessly to find another way to free him. She had even thought he would enjoy the fact that Wayne was entirely dependent upon him for help for once. Roxanne hadn't doubted this because she knew Megamind - his love of a challenge, but also the fact that he had never truly hated his former rival.

But the moment Megamind's fingers wrapped resolutely around the filigreed hilt of the dehydration gun, Roxanne felt a stab of doubt she had never felt before. Creeping fingers of uncertainty wormed their way into her mind, and her heart began to hammer mercilessly against her ribcage.

Oh God, what did he think he was doing?

"Megamind," she implored again, her voice nearly breathless. "Wait!"

The next instant, Roxanne swiftly shifted her eyes back toward Owen. While Megmaind's attention on him seemed to have become sporadic, Roxanne's certainly hadn't. Owen had remained silently dumbfounded throughout the prior confrontation, but Roxanne knew all that could change now that Megamind had reclaimed his weapon.

Owen, however, didn't appear as though he felt threatened. At least not right now. In fact, he looked positively enraptured by this turn of events. His brown eyes glinted in spellbound fascination and the clear hint of a cold smile graced his parted lips.

He was actually enjoying this.

Roxanne turned quickly back to Megamind, in time to see him halt directly in front of Wayne again. His thin, blue fingers were practically choking the handle of the dehydration gun as it hung stiffly at his side. His stony eyes glared down the length of his nose at the figure on the floor in front of him. Then, with a quick flick of his thumb against the grip of the weapon, the prongs surrounding the gun's barrel sliced open like talons.

Roxanne noticed that Megamind hadn't adjusted the gun's cylinder at all, which meant it was still on the same setting that had destroyed the far wall. Fear fluttered inexorably in her stomach as the bulbous gas chamber began to churn with an eerie, electric light.

"Megamind!" Roxanne called out to him. "Megamind, look at me!"

His eyes did not stray from Wayne. But a subtle clench in his jaw betrayed his shift in focus when she spoke - as though he was fighting to keep himself from glancing her way. Roxanne found some encouragement in that.

"Come on, I know you're listening to me," she said emphatically. "Megamind, you need to stop this." She swallowed and her voice softened. "Please."

Megamind inhaled deeply, but remained resolutely focused upon his rival at his feet. Wayne returned his gaze, looking boldly and silently back up at him.

Roxanne leaned her head forward against the bars for a moment and gathered herself, taking a deep breath of her own. Then she looked at Megamind again. "I know you're in pain," she said softly. "I can't even begin to imagine how much you must be suffering right now. But, please, you need think this through. You can't blame Wayne for what happened to Minion." She gripped the bars tighter. "If you do then you'll have to blame me, too."

Megamind pursed his lips into a grim line and seemed to be putting a great deal of effort into ignoring her. As he gripped his weapon, little fingers of electricity danced inside the swirling gas chamber.

"Wayne's not your enemy; he really isn't. Not anymore," Roxanne continued. "And he needs your help right now. The two of you may have your issues, but he didn't cause this." She fixed her eyes on him insistently and set her jaw. "Someone else did."

That got Owen's attention.

The spell of captivation he had been under was suddenly broken and he turned to Roxanne with a start, fixing her sharply with an angry glare. "That's enough, Ms. Ritchi," he warned.

Roxanne ignored him. She pressed herself as close to the bars as possible and focused only on Megamind. Once again, she wished more than anything that she could tear her way through this iron cage and actually do something. But with Megamind standing just beyond the stretch of her fingers, all Roxanne had to reach him with was her voice. It would have to be enough.

"I know you," she said earnestly. "I've known you for such a long time. And I know who you really are, Megamind - you're not cruel, and you're not ruthless." She offered him a dry grin. "Despite all your efforts to the contrary over the years." Then her grin faded and her brow furrowed as she took in the sharp lines of his hardened expression.

"You're hurting," she added softly.

Megamind still didn't look at her. Owen, on the other hand, had faced her completely, his eyes narrowing with aggression.

Roxanne turned her head to him for a moment, then defiantly looked away again - as though the young villain's growing hostility wasn't worth her concern. She focused back on Megamind.

"You're also a super genius," she said emphatically. "And I know that as soon as you sort through the million-and-one thoughts that must be racing through that brilliant head of yours, you'll see things clearly." She smiled wanly. "Then you'll take down the real guilty party with style, just like I said you would."

Owen growled a curse under his breath, and took a threatening step in Roxanne's direction.

This time, she didn't even acknowledge him as he advanced. She kept her attention completely on Megamind.

"This guy thinks he can bait you back into villainy by forcing you to do something vengeful - something irreversible," Roxanne said. "He thinks he knows you, but he doesn't. Not the way I do. And I know he can't pull you down to his level. Because you're better than that. You were always better than that, Megamind. Being a true hero is who you are."

The cold expression on Megamind's face did not falter. But his throat visibly tightened and his Adam's apple plunged deeply as he stood there, motionless.

Encouraged, Roxanne felt her thin smile warm into something more genuine. "You won't do this," she added with a soft confidence. "I know you won't. Because I have faith in you. You don't give up without a fight." She took in his profile with open affection in her eyes, and her heart thrummed in her chest. "And that's the man I fell in love with."

Megamind stiffened immediately - his shoulders and his body going rigid. His eyes were suddenly enormous as he - very, very slowly - shifted them away from Wayne and onto Roxanne.

A timeless, pregnant pause lingered in the room - only interrupted by the steady tapping of rain against the outside of the building and the occasional grumble of distant thunder as the worst of the storm began to roll away.

"What?" Megamind finally asked in a breathless murmur, his face dazed and slightly mystified.

"What?" Owen echoed derisively, his own expression pinched into an incredulous sneer.

At Megamind's unguarded, earnest surprise, Roxanne's face broke into a tender smile. She couldn't help it. As usual, his reactions had such an effect on her. The shocked, silent sense of wonder in his elastic face made her insides warm and her heart flutter. Despite the grimness of their situation, and the hardships continuing to loom over them, he still managed to make her smile. He always managed to make her smile.

Roxanne completely ignored the fuming, young villain who had stopped advancing a few feet to her right. She was entirely focused on the adorably befuddled, blue man who stood directly across from her. Roxanne's smile broadened and she beamed at him. "Oh, you heard me," she chided affectionately as her mouth curled into a gentle smirk. "I'm in love with you."

For a moment Megamind only continued to stare at her, dumbfounded. His eyes were double their usual size and so, so vibrantly green Roxanne swore they were glowing. His facial features had slackened and he even seemed to be trembling slightly - probably from all the built-up tension in his body. Then he lifted the dehydration gun level with his hip and glanced down at it as the churning substance in the electrified chamber faded to nothing. A moment later, he raised his eyes back up to meet hers.

"Roxanne," he finally said. His voice was breathy and thick with emotion. He looked away again, eyes falling somewhere on the floor near his feet, and shook his head slightly. "I- I'm so sorry."

Roxanne offered him another reassuring smile. It was okay now. He would be fine. They would all be fine. They would stop Owen, they would finally get out of here, they would find a way to help Wayne, and afterwards, whatever they needed to get through, they would face it together. Roxanne waited for Megamind to meet her eyes again.

When he finally did, the look on his face gave her pause. Some of the previous marvel had receded from his expression, leaving behind a strange sort of sorrow. A churning, uneasy sensation began pooling in the pit of Roxanne's stomach. Her smile slipped slowly from her lips.

"Megamind?"

He inhaled deeply - his shoulders rising and falling stiffly. His eyes were still lantern-bright, but the shocked emotion in them was noticeably gone.

"I'm sorry," Megamind repeated. "I truly am." He shook his head again. "I'm not sure I can ever make you understand why I need to do this." His thumb moved and the barrel of the dehydration gun sparked to swirling life once more. "I only hope that, one day, you can forgive me."

An icy finger of panic shivered its way up Roxanne's spine. Her blood ran cold. Her entire world seemed to have frozen on its axis. By the time her brain caught up to the sweep of dread that had taken hold of her body, Megamind had broken eye contact again.

"Wait . . ." she gasped - a desperate, disbelieving sound that seemed to lodge itself directly into the thick panic in her throat. "What?"

Megamind turned his eyes back down onto Wayne. One corner of his mouth curled up, but there was no joy in his smile. "Get up," he said coldly, and bent down to Wayne's level.

His fingers grabbed the collar of Wayne's white t-shirt. The viscous exterior of the boa plasma yielded to his grip as though his blue fingers were sinking into jelly. Then Megamind tugged upward. Wayne grunted as his legs were forced to trail woodenly behind the upward motion of his body. Once again, Megamind demonstrated how external forces were able to act upon the boa plasma: with a bit more effort this time, he managed to haul Wayne's huge torso upward. The rest of the former hero's body had no choice but to follow.

"No," Roxanne gasped out again. She tried to insinuate herself into Megamind's line of sight, cursing the bars that held her back. "Megamind, please," she said desperately. "Please."

Owen was once again staring, wide-eyed and spellbound, at the renewed altercation between the two rivals.

Once Wayne had been hoisted to his feet, Megamind took a step back and looked him up and down. Wayne's hulking frame stood with an ape-like hunch. Although he was now upright, his thick, weighty limbs pulled heavily downward from the force of the substance that clung to every inch of him. Megamind shook his head.

"That won't do," he said offhandedly.

He stepped forward again and moved behind Wayne. With a push to the lower back and a pull at the shoulders, Megamind was able to manipulate the large man's body out of the heavy slouch. Wayne grunted again through his clenched teeth as he was molded into position. Soon he was standing at strict attention: his spine straight, his chest high, his shoulders back. As a final touch, Megamind walked back around to Wayne's front and took hold of his arms, weaving them into an imposing crisscross over the broad expanse of his muscular chest.

Then Megamind stepped back and took a second look. Another small smile pricked at the corner of his mouth.

"There," he mused appraisingly. "That's more like it." His eyes glinted with real amusem*nt. "No excuse for sloppy presentation."

Roxanne felt her stomach churn violently. She slammed one fist hard against the unrelenting iron bars that held her back. "Megamind," she cried out again. Try as she might, however, she couldn't force her voice into anything beyond a terrified gasp. "Don't do this," she pleaded. "Please, don't do this."

Horrifying recollections of the last time she had uttered that particular plea assaulted her memory. She had been just as trapped - just as helpless. That time, however, it had been her own doom that had been looming, and she had had nothing but her words to get through to her captor.

. . . I know there's still good in you . . .

Unfortunately, those words had been thrown cruelly back at her.

She had been wrong about Hal. So heartbreakingly wrong. But she wasn't wrong about Megamind. She couldn't be wrong about him.

She loved him.

Roxanne pressed her head to the cold bars and squeezed her eyes shut.

". . . Please."

Megamind regarded Wayne with a growing sneer. "You know," he said musingly. "I've always wanted to ask this." His eyes glinted. "Any last words, Metro Mahn?"

Wayne was able to angle his head downward. His Intense Scowl of Justice was once again evident on his face. Metro Man had unmistakably reemerged. "You're choosing the role of the villain, then?" he asked.

Megamind's eyes narrowed hostilely. "Not necessarily," he replied. "I've become a big believer in shaping my own destiny. And as I told you: I've been handling your job very well." He approached Metro Man's towering form and looked straight up into his face. "I can still be Metrocity's defender," he said. Then he shrugged and brought the gun up. "I'm just finished living under the shadow of its old one."

Roxanne gritted her teeth in desperation as she watched Megamind retreat backward for a few deliberate steps, leveling his dehydration gun steadily upon his enemy as he went.

Oh God, this wasn't happening.

Metro Man's mouth quirked ruefully. "You can't be a true hero without conviction," he said. "Otherwise, you're just playing a part all over again."

Megamind grinned. "All the world is a stage," he mused. Then his face sobered and he almost seemed to pout theatrically. "Though I admit: I'd always imagined we'd have a bigger audience for this particular scene." He raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you, old friend?"

A corner of Wayne's mouth curled upward in heroic defiance. "I seem to remember having the entire city at my last curtain call," he managed to quip.

Megamind smirked back, a dark sort of approval ghosting over his face. "Too bad," he replied. "It seems that Justice won't be getting much of an encore."

"A smaller venue is usually a more meaningful one," Wayne retorted.

Megamind's mouth spread into a sinister, Cheshire grin. "I always did love a captive audience," he said silkily.

Roxanne bit down hard on her bottom lip. She couldn't take this. They were actually bantering.

"Please," she said. Her voice sounded so small and raspy in her own ears. "Please, stop this . . ."

Megamind stared down the length of his arm to where the dehydration gun was trained unwaveringly upon Metro Man. "It looks as though I'll actually have the chance to say goodbye this time," he mused, his voice deceptively soft. Then he co*cked his head. "Goodbye, old friend."

Metro Man lifted his chin in proud defiance, and Megamind pulled the trigger.

A sizzle of electricity crackled down the length of the beam that shot from the gun and struck Wayne solidly in the chest. Roxanne refused to scream, but she quickly averted her eyes with a small cry. She couldn't watch this. She had to be trapped in some sort of horrific nightmare. She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched at the iron bars tightly, waiting for the explosion she knew would follow . . .

Countless seconds ticked by.

The endless silence was almost too much for Roxanne to bear. The only audible sound was the intermittent echo of the gradually dying rain.

Roxanne's heart continued to race. Her breath was heavy and erratic as she clung to the bars of her cage. Still, the explosion did not come. Curiosity finally got the better of her and she forced herself to peek her eyes open.

Then she gasped.

Metro Man was still there.

. . . Sort of.

Roxanne opened her eyes more fully. She drew in another sharp breath and took in the new scene in front of her. Her first reaction was one of overwhelming relief: Metro Man's body had somehow not been obliterated by the blast from the dehydration gun. But that was only momentarily reassuring.

He now almost looked like . . . a statue. A motionless, white statue like the one that used to straddle the entrance of the original museum. That mental image almost immediately triggered memories of what, exactly, had happened to that statue. Roxanne shuddered at the thought.

But as she looked closer, Roxanne noticed something else. The substance that now surrounded Metro Man was less like solid stone than she had originally thought.

Roxanne blinked.

Whatever it was, it almost made Wayne look like a mummy.

That was the only way Roxanne could think to describe it. Even trapped several feet away, she could still make out what appeared to be crisscrossing bandages swathing Wayne's entire body. Countless, white strips intersected each other over and over, from his feet to the top of his head. They froze his form where he stood, and hid him completely from view.

Roxanne blinked again, then squinted. She began to notice several sporadic, gray patches dappling the "statue's" surface. They appeared damp. But they were also getting gradually smaller. It was almost as though the whole thing was drying - hardening into a more solid sculpture right before her eyes.

Confused, Roxanne finally forced herself to look at Megamind again.

He casually raised the dehydration gun to his lips and blew a quick puff of air across the muzzle. He twirled the weapon sharply on his finger and - in the absence of a holster lashed to his thigh - he shoved the barrel into the pocket of his trousers. Then he closed the few steps of distance between where he had been standing and Metro Man's frozen form. For a moment he simply stood appraising it, then he crossed his arms and turned back to face Owen. He regarded the young villain with a stony expression and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

Owen nearly jumped out of his spellbound trance as he suddenly seemed to realize that Megamind was waiting for a reaction.

"Oh!" he said with a slight start. "Oh sorry, Mr. Mind!" He focused on the statue that had once been Metro Man and dutifully raked his eyes over Megamind's handiwork - exaggerating his effort with a full up-and-down motion of his head. "Gee, that's . . ." he assessed with a nod and a shrug, ". . . that's cool."

Megamind's eyebrow arched a little higher on his forehead. "Cool?" he echoed dispassionately.

Owen jerked again, his hands fidgeting in front of him as he began to flounder. "Oh! N-no," he stammered. "What I mean is . . . it's, um . . . awesome?" He rubbed the back of his neck uneasily with one hand. "I'm sorry, Mr. Mind, really. I guess I was expecting something else. After reading your database, I imagined it would be more like a 'sonic boom' - less like 'frozen-in-carbonite'." He finished with a weak, unconvincing laugh.

Megamind let out a mild chuckle of his own. His expression lightened slightly - some of the deep, angry lines smoothing over. With his arms still crossed, he leaned back nonchalantly against Metro Man's mummified form.

"Oh, Owen," he drawled with a slight shake of his head, his eyes casually closed. "You know, you're actually amusing." He shrugged. "When you're not being infuriatingly annoying or violently psychotic."

Owen stiffened slightly. He didn't respond, but his lips parted and his eyes narrowed guardedly.

"Forgive me," Megamind immediately backtracked. He held one hand out in front of him as the other covered his heart apologetically. "What I mean is . . . this . . ." He gestured to the substance coating the immobile body behind him. ". . . is not a fictional cryonic alloy." He finally refocused his eyes on Owen and shrugged a second time. "It's découpage."

Roxanne found herself absentmindedly tightening her grip on the bars. She didn't know why, but her heart had begun to pound again.

Owen, on the other hand, merely looked confused. "Oh," he replied, before adding, "What's that?"

"Well-" Megamind pushed away from the statue and turned slightly to place one hand on Wayne's petrified bicep. "-it's the art of decorating an object by gluing strips of paper onto its surface. But that's not important right now," he said, brushing his hands through the air in front of him as though clearing the unnecessary details away. "What really matters is that you're absolutely right, Owen."

The young man still looked confused, but he craned his head forward expectantly.

"About my database," Megamind explained. "The 'sonic boom', as you called it, is indeed one of the only ways to dispose of the boa plasma."

Owen shifted from one foot to the other. "One of?"

The steady flutter in Roxanne's heart rapidly increased.

"Yes," Megamind answered, stepping casually between Owen and Wayne. "You can, of course, destroy it at a molecular level." He bobbed his head back and forth slightly. "Along with whatever is trapped inside."

Owen shifted again, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides.

Roxanne's eyes widened and she held her breath.

"There's another?" Owen asked.

Megamind glanced up and locked his gaze onto the young villain. A sly glint flashed through the penetrating green of his eyes.

Reflexively, Roxanne felt herself smile.

"The other," Megamind replied, "is to completely dry out the hydraulic base of the gel."

Owen took an instinctive step back. "What-?" he murmured breathlessly.

"The substance I created for this particular setting on my gun is not, of course, ordinary glue," Megamind explained as he patted the weapon now resting on his hip. "Like most of my inventions, it truly is fantastic."

Then his lips curled into a genuinely devious smile that made Roxanne's heart absolutely soar.

"It dries exceptionally quickly," he added.

Owen stumbled backward a step, nearly tripping himself on his own feet. "You mean-?" he countered incredulously.

"I mean . . . ," Megamind drawled pointedly. He raised his watch casually to his eyes for a quick look. "In the time we've been talking, that substance has been drying the boa plasma into nothing more than a fairly solid stone. Hardly a problem for the likes of Metro Man." He glanced up from his wrist and smirked shrewdly back at Owen. "In another few seconds, I'd say you're going to have a pretty super-powered problem on your hands."

Owen tightened his fists at his sides and stared back at Megamind with a growing venomous scowl. "So," he said, his voice thick and raspy with accusation, "you didn't destroy him."

Megamind shook his head with another small chuckle. His lips were quirked in amusem*nt. "Well, you probably wouldn't have allowed me to retrieve my weapon if you didn't at least think I was capable of it," he replied. "But, no. No, I didn't."

Owen's body was now trembling with absolute fury. "Why?" he grated through clenched teeth.

"Oh, haven't you been paying attention?" Megamind said, raising his hands with mock exasperation. "All that time visiting my lair - observing everything - and you didn't notice?" He let out a small, dramatic groan.

Then his demeanor shifted completely; he focused his eyes on Owen with blazing intensity.

"I'm a hero now," he said.

An absolute thrill of happiness raced through Roxanne's entire body. Her face split into a beaming smile. "Ha!" she interjected triumphantly. "I told you!"

Owen shifted his scowl to her briefly, then back to Megamind. His shoulders were rising and falling in large movements. Flashes of rage, hurt, and absolute betrayal chased each other across his face.

Megamind crossed his arms back over his chest. Then his expression seemed to soften sympathetically as he looked back at his one-time fan. "Besides, Owen," he said in earnest, "and I speak from experience: destroying one's enemy is not always as fulfilling as you might think."

Owen's lip curled angrily. His eyes narrowed. "Well, Mr. Mind," he whispered harshly, "let's test that theory."

He quickly brushed his short cape aside behind him and reached back to his waistband. When he thrust his arm out again, the pistol was clutched tightly in his quivering grip.

Megamind suddenly froze, his eyes blowing wide.

Roxanne's heart immediately leapt into her throat. The world spun around her as she helplessly clutched the bars of her cage. She needed to do something.

So she did the only thing she could think of.

She screamed.

It wasn't just a quick cry of protest, either. Roxanne Ritchi let out a pure, horrifying shriek that echoed stridently through the small hallway. It was blood-curdling . . . it was ear-splitting . . .

And it was enough to get Owen's attention.

Startled, the young villain jerked. He shifted his aim away from Megamind as his body spun wide toward the sound. Roxanne felt a huge surge of relief. She had seen how nervous and erratic Owen had behaved all day, and the scream had certainly broken his focus.

But Roxanne's relief only lasted for a moment.

Because as Owen's attention abruptly shifted to her, so did his aim.

The dark, hollow barrel of the pistol trained upon her, and Roxanne also froze. At that point, she realized she had no idea what to do next.

What she hadn't realized, was how very quickly Megamind was capable of moving.

He was in front of her in an instant.

A deafening explosion erupted through the hall. A flash of orange fire flared for just a fraction of an instant from the muzzle of the gun.

Roxanne watched in helpless horror as Megamind's body slammed backwards into the bars and slid bonelessly to the floor in front of her.

To be concluded . . .

Chapter 15: Silver Lining

Chapter Text

Chapter 15 - Silver Lining

Taking a hit like that to the chest, Megamind decided, hurt.

It hurt a lot.

Though, surprisingly, not at first. That was strange. After all, his large brain was fully capable of receiving multiple, rapid, sensory, messages at once. But despite that, his body had still experienced a definite delayed pain response. In fact, Megamind wouldn't have been cognizant of the hit he had taken at all, if it hadn't been for the abrupt, forceful sensation of toppling backwards, the jarring impact against the thick, iron bars behind him, and the sudden inability to remember how to inhale properly.

A moment ago, his only conscious thought had been to get to Roxanne before the gun went off. After that, the world had upended around him.

The room spun drunkenly for a few more seconds. Then awareness returned - along with his breath. With it came the sensation of a soft pair of arms encircling him from behind and a voice - raspy and desperate - speaking beside his ear.

"Let me see it," Roxanne coaxed frantically, her warm breath heavy and fast against the side of his neck. "Oh God, Megamind, let me see!"

He became aware of her attempting to pry his hands away from where he had instinctively been clutching at his own chest like a vice. That brought his attention down to his torso . . .

And that was when the pain finally registered.

Megamind gritted his teeth as his body's delayed response caught up to him. Pain bloomed beneath the pressure of his hands and spread quickly through his chest. His skull and back also ached where he had collided with the bars. The inside of his head began ringing like a gong. He felt as though he had taken a direct hit with a sledgehammer, squarely to the solar plexus.

Still, he supposed as Roxanne finally managed to pry his hands apart, things could be a lot worse . . .

He could have actually been shot.

Roxanne gasped softly beside his ear. The thin, button-down shirt that covered his chest was rumpled and had gotten slightly torn and dirty, but it was otherwise unblemished. The blue skin beneath it was the same - though it would probably purple significantly later.

There was no visible gunshot wound.

Megamind turned his eyes upward and cast a scathing, accusatory glare at the hulking form of the man who was now standing between him and Owen.

"Oww!" he groused petulantly.

Metro Man turned his head slightly and glanced over his shoulder. The hand he had used to shove Megamind aside was still extended straight behind him. He looked from it to Megamind, who had begun rubbing at his battered sternum. Metro Man's lips curved into a soft, apologetic smile. "Sorry, little buddy," he said earnestly.

A moment later, the superhero turned back to face Owen, allowing his Intense Scowl of Justice to wash back over his features. His body had been frozen in a sort of heroic lunge, which he stepped out of slowly and straightened to his full, intimidating height.

Owen froze to the spot like a deer in headlights. His eyes were as wide as saucers as they trailed up Metro Man's towering stature.

Metro Man's mouth twisted into a wry grin and he extended one closed fist slowly toward the young villain. When he uncurled his fingers a twisted, deformed stump of metal slipped from his hand and hit the concrete floor with a muted click.

The mangled bullet bounced slightly and then settled near Owen's boot.

Consequently, the villain's pistol slipped from his nerveless fingers and also fell to the floor with a noisy clatter.

Megamind propped one hand upon his knee and leveraged himself to his feet with a grunt. He felt Roxanne's arms slip away from his shoulders as he stood. Wrapping one arm across his throbbing ribcage, he approached Metro Man from behind and came to stand next to his elbow, facing Owen.

"You were always really good at those last-minute escapes," Megamind conceded idly. His eyes lingered on Owen, but his words were directed at the man beside him. He smirked. "Cut that one a little close, though, wouldn't you say?"

Metro Man huffed slightly through his nose. "Can you blame me for needing half a millisecond to stretch my legs?" he replied. "I was sort of immobile for most of the day." As he spoke, he, too, kept his eyes fixed on Owen.

The young villain was beginning to tremble like a leaf.

"Um, yeah," Megamind droned as his fingers rubbed absently at the back of his neck. "About that." He gave an awkward chuckle. "I do apologize for that. It was never supposed to happen."

Metro Man let out another amused little snort though his nose. "Do I even want to know why you never pulled that gun on me before?" he asked.

Megamind didn't specifically answer that. But he did briefly refocus his eyes on Metro Man's profile. His face sobered. "Look," he muttered with a small sigh. "Those things I said earlier?" He sighed again, a bit heavier. "I didn't mean it." He squinted thoughtfully. "Well . . ." he amended, "most of it." Then he bobbed his head slightly back and forth. "Okay, almost most of it."

Metro Man also looked away from Owen and turned his head to face Megamind directly. His mouth was curved into a deadpan grin, but his eyes had a subtle, authentic twinkle. "Come on," he said. "Give me a little credit for knowing you." He shook his head and leaned down toward Megamind conspiratorially. His smile spread into something more genuine. "You never banter when you're really angry."

Megamind blinked his wide eyes. Then he grinned back.

And as they were momentarily focused on each other, Owen turned and quickly made a break for it.

He swerved like a drunkard on his lanky legs as panic drove him toward the opposite end of the building. He vaulted clumsily over several piles of rubble that littered the hallway, catching himself one-handed as he nearly tripped.

"Hey!" Roxanne called out after him.

Both Megamind and Metro Man looked away from each other at the same time and turned their faces back toward the retreating young villain. Immediately, Metro Man's body tensed to take pursuit - his legs crouched like a runner, his hands balled into fists, his Intense Scowl of Justice returned.

Megamind, on the other hand, took a slow step toward the hero's side and placed one palm against the bent crook of his arm. Metro Man looked down at him curiously.

Megamind offered him a roguish grin. "Relax," he said in a confident drawl. Then he stepped back and crossed his arms. "I got this."

Owen reached the demolished, gaping hole in the wall that emptied out into the darkened park. He scrambled out of the building and risked a look back over his shoulder. He seemed to notice that he wasn't being pursued and slowed his pace, nearly tripping himself on his own gangly feet in the process. He made a full turn and continued to walk briskly backward, keeping a sharp eye on the room that he had left in his wake. Then he jammed his hand down into one of his deep pockets and fumbled around inside. A moment later, he managed to wrestle his cell phone free again. With ungainly fingers he flipped it open and groped awkwardly at the keypad with his thumbs as he continued his graceless backward retreat. A second later he seemed to have called up the menu he had been fumbling for - in all likelihood, the number to trigger the final bomb he had alluded to earlier.

Owen halted in the middle of the wet grass. The last vestiges of the storm outside rustled his short, tattered cape off to one side and the remaining drops of rain misted around him, speckling the goggles on top of his head. His shoulders rose and fell in large, panicked movements, but as he saw he still wasn't being followed the ghost of an anxious smile spread across his face. He chuckled nervously and held the phone up into the air over his head, his thumb hovering once more over the SEND button.

Megamind's eyes widened. "Um," he ventured uncertainly, taking a small step forward. His eyes flickered down to his watch. "I think I've got this."

Then, out of the darkness of the park, came the strident peal of opening guitar riffs. Owen jumped slightly and turned toward the noise, only to be snatched off his feet by an enormous, mechanized claw that had shot forward from just beyond the frame created by the hole in the building. He cried out sharply in alarm and dropped his phone onto the grass as the claw heaved him up and twisted him upside-down. He struggled in the claw's massive grip - his arms pinned, his cape hanging down past his ears, and his feet kicking ineffectually through the air like a flipped beetle.

A moment later, the spider-bot crawled back into view, accompanied by its own rock anthem.

At the controls was Minion.

Even over the blaring music, Megamind could hear Roxanne's startled, joyful cry behind him and he grinned broadly. He crossed his arms over his chest again in satisfaction, taking a few steps forward as Minion steered the spider-bot back inside the zoo through the missing wall. The robot almost seemed to woof in excitement, bucking and twitching as it came to a halt.

Minion held on tightly while the spider-bot shook some of the excess rainwater off its metallic body like a soggy canine. The vibration traveled up the length of the claw's cable, causing Owen's upside-down face to turn a nauseated shade of green. Megamind held one hand up and slightly turned his head to the side as some of the droplets flew in his direction. He smiled as the robot's numerous red eyestalks glowed brightly at him in recognition. It was such a relief to see it back to its old self.

"Any problems overriding the remote access, Minion?" Megamind called out over the pounding chords of Van Halen's Panama, which was continuing to reverberate through the narrow room.

"No, sir!" Minion responded proudly. "Sorry - it just took a little time, that's all."

Megamind brushed one hand dismissively through the air in front of him. "Not a problem," he replied over the din. "I had everything completely under control in here."

Minion transferred the spider-bot to auxiliary power and the music faded out. He shifted in the co*ckpit and turned his mechanized body down toward the three other people standing in the room. He arched one brow dubiously at Megamind.

"Yes, I heard," he drawled, holding up the spare communicator watch that was fastened around his robotic wrist. "But aren't you glad I convinced you to let me come along anyway?" he added with a wry quirk to his upturned mouth.

Megamind's features softened as he looked up at him. "Minion," he said, "my fantastic friend." He offered Minion a sincere smile. "I honestly don't know what I would ever do without you."

It wasn't really an answer to the question Minion had asked, but Megamind knew his friend would understand his true meaning.

The fish's tawny eyes acknowledged Megamind warmly for a brief moment. Then, after a beat, he narrowed them archly and redirected them to his left, where Owen's inverted body hung in the grip of the robot's claw. Minion retracted some of the cable, tugging the villain closer, and swam to the side of his new tank. Then he deliberately flipped himself upside-down in his water to look the young man dead in the eyes.

"Gee whiz, Owen," Minion said, his voice both syrupy-sweet and menacing all at once. "How's it hanging?" He punctuated his question with an edged, wolfish grin - displaying rows of wicked-looking, sharp teeth.

Owen cringed back from him with a definite whimper. His legs continued to kick fruitlessly through the air.

Megamind sneered smugly, crossing his arms again. "I told you I brought backup, you delusional little insect."

Metro Man stepped forward to stand beside Megamind. He, too, took a few moments to observe Minion gleefully terrorizing Owen, then he cleared his throat.

Megamind glanced up at him.

"So," Metro Man muttered, his face displaying the same sheepish expression he had worn the day Megamind and Roxanne had discovered him alive at the old schoolhouse. He scratched aggressively at one side of his shaggy jaw. Some small flecks of the hardened boa plasma that were still clinging to his hair and clothes showered to the floor like fine pieces of lint. "Hey."

Megamind blinked. "Hey," he replied, feeling a little uncomfortable.

To Megamind's extreme curiosity, Metro Man continued to fidget slightly. He had never seen Metro Man fidget.

"So," the former hero began again. He paused, then abruptly gestured forward, indicating Minion. "Good to see that he's actually okay."

It took Megamind a delayed moment to respond. This was . . . "small talk," wasn't it? He blinked again. He had never engaged in small talk with his rival before. It was weird. He shook himself a bit before replying.

"Er, yes," he said. "Yes. Thank goodness." He, too, turned back to where Minion was continuing to have a little fun menacing the young villain in his robotic clutches. Megamind's next words weren't necessarily directed at anyone in particular. "If he hadn't been, I imagine today might have turned out very differently."

Metro Man made what sounded like a small humming noise of agreement.

A moment later, Megamind collected himself and looked back up at the man beside him. They had never stood shoulder-to-shoulder like this. Ever. He absently tapped the tips of his blue fingers together and narrowed his eyes in slight confusion. "So . . . it's 'Way-en' now, is it?" he asked.

The name felt foreign on his tongue; it was so strangely, surreally, inexplicably . . . ordinary.

Megamind had always known his rival's other name, but neither one of them had ever actually used it in each others' presence before. Mortal enemies didn't call each other by their first names. But, Megamind supposed, that's not who they were anymore. Were they?

Megamind stared blankly at a random spot on the floor and said the name again - thoughtfully - as though he was testing it out. "Way-en."

After a pause, he turned back to the other man with another puzzled squint. "So does that mean there's no more Music Man either?" he asked.

Wayne's chuckle caught Megamind a little off guard. The sound rumbled around for a moment inside the deep cavern of the man's broad chest. Megamind couldn't be certain, but he thought it actually sounded like genuine amusem*nt. Another curiosity. He had never heard Metro Man laugh before. Not like that.

"I guess you could say 'Music Man' hit a bit of a creative slump," Wayne answered. "It wasn't especially pretty." He shrugged. "The songs - the whole lifestyle, in fact - started getting a bit stale."

"Oh," Megamind said with a preoccupied nod. "That's . . . rather disappointing, actually." Then he gave Wayne a sidelong glance. "You don't suppose there's any way I might be able to hear-"

"Um, boys?"

Roxanne's voice carried clearly from across the room behind them. Both Megamind and Metro Man turned toward her. She was smirking knowingly at them with her hands on her hips and equal parts admiration and affectionate exasperation playing over her face.

"Don't get me wrong," she said. "Former-rival-bonding couldn't make me happier." She grinned wider and raised one eyebrow, gesturing to herself with the pointing fingers of both hands. "But kinda still in a cage here."

Wayne started forward but stopped himself mid-step. He looked back at Megamind. "Let me guess," he said. "You've got this one too, right?"

Megamind drew his dehydration gun from his pocket. "If you don't mind," he replied.

Wayne raised his hands. "Not at all," he said. Then he motioned toward the cage in a sweeping, 'all yours' sort of gesture. "I think I'll go find where our friend Fire Bug dropped his cell phone," he added. His feet lifted slightly off the floor and he floated - deliberately slowly - toward the park beyond the destroyed wall.

Megamind gave the chamber of his gun several twists until its setting reached 'dehydration'. He took aim at one of the cage bars and Roxanne stepped back so he could fire. A wave of blue light shot from the gun. The metal hummed like a tuning fork as the beam spread up and down its length. A second later the bar vanished and a bright, blue cube pinged off into a far corner of the cell. Roxanne did not even wait for Megamind to remove another bar before she came forward again and squeezed herself sideways through the wider gap.

Suddenly Megamind felt extremely apprehensive.

No. Scratch that.

He was completely petrified.

What could he possibly say to her now? After what had happened? Watching Roxanne's reaction a few minutes ago to the charade he'd been forced into had been worse than a dagger to his heart. Never mind that Minion had required time to locate the spider-bot and completely disable the remote control's link to it. Forget that the only way Owen would have allowed Megamind to retrieve the dehydration gun was if he had thought the weapon would be used to destroy Metro Man. None of that made any difference now.

Because Megamind's actions had hurt Roxanne. Badly.

Again.

He had never seen her so desperate before - so upset, so frightened, and so utterly, emotionally wounded. And he had been the direct cause of it.

She had told him she believed in him. And he had reciprocated by giving her more reason to doubt him than ever.

As for what she had said afterward . . .

Megamind's heart twisted with a palpable ache that went far beyond the pain in his bruised chest. His mouth went completely dry. He couldn't even fathom how badly he must have ruined things. He just couldn't.

'Please forgive me' wouldn't even begin to cover it.

Over a dozen different thoughts raced through his head at the same time, and Megamind couldn't be certain which one of them would eventually come stumbling clumsily out of his mouth. He fumbled to shove the barrel of the dehydration gun back into his pocket as Roxanne came to a halt in front of him. His stomach flip-flopped. She was frowning and he immediately averted his eyes away from her. Megamind opened his naked hands toward the ceiling and stared down at them brokenly.

"Roxanne," he said. "I don't know what to-" His voice felt thick in his throat. He tried to swallow past it. "I- I wish I could-"

Roxanne took a small step toward him as he began to stammer. She eyed him silently. Then she almost seemed to physically push her way past the impotent words that were coming at her as she closed the distance between them. The next thing Megamind knew, Roxanne's arms were around his neck and she was gently clinging to him.

Megamind stiffened. Once again, his oversized brain suffered a bit of a delayed reaction. It took a few long seconds for him to actually process what had just happened. One minute he was contemplating his inevitable acceptance of the very real possibility that he would once again have to watch Roxanne walk out of his life over something he had done. The next he was completely surrounded by her.

She hadn't thrown herself into him too aggressively, or playfully bowled him over, as she had often done following his victories on numerous other occasions. She was trying to be mindful of the pain in his chest, he could tell. But she still hung on with a desperate kind of force that Megamind couldn't help but answer in kind. His arms folded up and around her, pressing her closer to him. Any lingering physical pain evaporated into the furthest reaches of his mind as he tightened his hold. Roxanne finally relented and did the same.

Megamind released a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in a long, steady exhale as he mumbled a very quiet, "I'm so sorry," against her shoulder.

Realizing right away that that apology wouldn't nearly be good enough, Megamind pulled away from her. He was loath to release her so he simply leaned back a bit, keeping his arms around her as tightly as he could. Shaking his head, he managed to force his gaze up to look her in the eyes.

"Roxanne-" he attempted to begin again.

But that was as far as he was able to get. In the next moment, Roxanne's hands unwound from his shoulders and slid up the back of his neck. With her fingers laced across the base of his skull, she gently pulled him back toward her and covered his mouth softly with hers.

At first, Megamind's body gave a tiny start. Then his eyes shuttered closed. His overactive brain momentarily turned off and his apology was put on hold. He was completely incapable of registering anything beyond the softness of her lips . . . the press of her tongue . . . the smell of her skin against his. Both of his hands curled inward and gathered unconscious fistfuls of Roxanne's blouse as he responded to her kiss, pulling her even closer. He barely noticed any lingering pain in his chest at all anymore.

Roxanne's lips lingered for a few more seconds. When she finally eased back, she continued to maintain contact with him by resting her forehead against his. She anchored him to her gently, her hands still clasped behind his head.

For a moment, Megamind only stood there dazedly, holding her against him. The relief he was feeling was unimaginable. It seemed impossible, but somehow he hadn't lost her - not to Owen's actions, or even to his own. Megamind drew in a deep, steadying breath.

". . . I love you."

The words slipped out of him in a soft sigh.

It wasn't how he had intended to tell her. After all, they were light years away from his original plans for the perfect evening. And it certainly wasn't the apology he had meant to give. But once he had said it, in that moment, Megamind couldn't imagine saying anything else. It felt unquestionably right.

He noticed a small tremor ripple through Roxanne's body. Her lips parted as she pulled back to stare at him with slightly wider eyes. Megamind returned her gaze, looking into her face with a renewed sense of earnestness.

"Roxanne," he said, this time steadily, "I am very much in love with you."

In the next moment, Roxanne's face split into a huge, beaming smile. She shook her head with the tiniest hint of a laugh. "Yeah," she murmured, placing one hand along the side of his face. The pad of her thumb stroked across the smooth plane of his cheek. "I know."

Megamind blinked at her. Then his heart utterly swelled. Days ago he had worried that a reply like that could have only meant that he had somehow gone about this all wrong - that he had been too predictable in his affection or that he had failed to declare his love with the necessary amount of fanfare. Now, however, as he took in the absolute joy in her smile, it didn't feel that way at all.

He felt assured. Validated.

And happy. So, so happy. In fact, Megamind couldn't recall a moment in his life when he had ever felt more thoroughly happy.

He loved Roxanne Ritchi.

And what was even more amazing: Roxanne Ritchi loved him back.

Standing together in the middle of a rubble-strewn, old building, both of them slightly battered and more than a little disheveled, and so far away from the private, candlelit, flower-strewn setting Megamind had originally envisioned . . .

Honestly?

Things couldn't have turned out more perfect.

Megamind returned Roxanne's delighted smile. And then he was the one kissing her - this time sweeping her flush against him, with one hand in her hair, the other around her waist, and all the flourish he believed the moment truly deserved.

There may have been spinning involved.

As they swung around full-circle, Megamind happened to glance up over Roxanne's shoulder to where Minion was currently waiting in the spider-bot at the other end of the room. The robot body had its back to them, but Minion was clearly turned around inside the tank. He was grinning happily and offered Megamind a small, discreet thumbs-up. As Megamind smiled back, Minion co*cked his body with a smug little 'I-told-you-so' expression on his face and proceeded to turn around in his tank again, making a deliberate show of ignoring them.

When Megamind and Roxanne parted the second time, she finally took a step back. She was laughing and looked happily dizzy as her arms slid down from his shoulders and came to rest against his chest. Despite his earlier reservations about the dress shirt, Megamind decided that he liked the sensation of Roxanne touching him without the thick layers of spandex and leather between them. It was something he could definitely get used to. He smiled back at her.

Then Roxanne's soft lips twisted into an impish grin. A playful spark flashed through her blue eyes. The next thing Megamind knew, she had removed one hand from his chest, wound back, and thumped her fist against his shoulder.

Megamind recoiled from the subtle blow, his face falling and his bottom lip jutting out in pouty consternation. He reached up and reflexively rubbed at the spot with his fingertips, looking back at her with a somewhat wounded expression.

"Um, ow?" He blinked at her.

Roxanne's smirk widened. "That," she said in reply, "was for nearly giving me a heart attack, hero."

Megamind cringed slightly. He deserved that, he knew. Truth be told, he probably deserved a lot worse, so he couldn't shake the undeniable feeling of relief building up inside him. Clearly, he was getting off easy.

Megamind's lips quirked into a small, sheepish smile. "Perhaps we are in need of some sort of signal," he suggested. "For future reference."

"Oh, you think?" Roxanne teased back with mock seriousness.

"Then again," he mused, "I'm not sure how wise that would be. You were the one who said my codes were so easy to crack," he reminded her, shrugging.

Roxanne rolled her eyes with a grin.

Then Megamind frowned.

"I really am sorry, Roxanne," he said in earnest. "If there had been a way to convince Owen of my char-ahde without involving you - without hurting you like that - I swear I would have-"

Roxanne silenced him with a small, knowing smile and a gentle finger against his lips. After a moment she removed it. "Can we at least have a 'Minion's-actually-okay' signal?" she asked, placing one hand over her heart. "I'm not sure I can handle worrying like that again."

Megamind pressed his lips together into a troubled line, his expression slipping a degree darker. "He almost wasn't," he told her quietly. "Almost 'not-okay', that is. It was . . ." He glanced back over in the direction of his friend for a moment. Minion was still turned away from them. Megamind took a steady breath in and out. Then his eyes found the floor. "It was bad."

Roxanne's gaze softened. She did not ask for any specifics yet, for which Megamind was grateful. She simply placed a gentle hand along the side of his face again. For a moment she merely stood like that, and Megamind quietly accepted the comfort she was offering through her touch.

A few seconds later, he reached up and folded his fingers around Roxanne's hand. He brought it down from his face and looked at it, stroking her skin gently as his eyes studied the frayed, makeshift bandage that surrounded her palm.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, trying very hard to keep any remaining aggression out of his voice.

"No," Roxanne admitted with a small smile. "It was actually an accident. I was trying to get out through the window." She shrugged. "But he did donate a piece of his cape," she offered with some degree of optimism.

Megamind's mouth twisted into a sour frown. "I'm sure that will carry substantial weight in the number of life sentences the overzealous insect receives," he muttered sardonically.

Roxanne curled her fingers further around his, effectively using his own hand to hide the injury in question from his view. She smiled again. "It's fine, really."

Megamind could still feel the fabric of the bandage against his skin, but at her quiet insistence, he let the subject - and his subsequent anger - drop.

When he looked back up at Roxanne, she was smirking playfully again.

"By the way," she said, "care to clue me in to your new, super-secret method for getting rid of your boa plasma?" She co*cked a teasing eyebrow at him.

"There was no secret," Megamind retorted, his shoulders rising into a defensive shrug. "And it wasn't new, either. I told you all about it days ago!"

Roxanne eyeballed him incredulously. "You said the only ways to get rid of the plasma were fatal!"

"I said they were messy," he amended. He gestured toward the far end of the room, where Wayne had floated a few minutes ago. Megamind held both his hands out in front of him like scales. "On one hand," he said, lifting his right palm a bit, "scattered chunks of demolecularized superhero. On the other . . . " He paused, then thrust his opposite hand vaguely in Wayne's direction. "Well, he's going to be picking residue out of his hair for at least a week!"

Roxanne's eyebrow arched even higher on her forehead and Megamind sighed.

"Okay, truthfully? I wasn't totally sure it would work at first," he admitted. "I knew the plasma's hydraulic base was capable of being dried into solid matter, but I'd never tested it on anything living before. I wouldn't. The boa plasma is very dangerous, Roxanne." He looked at her meaningfully. "An average human being simply wouldn't have the strength to escape once the gel hardened," he said. "Not to mention, he or she would very likely run out of air before it could be breached from the outside - or suffer severe injury in the process.

"We'd learned that remote signals can't penetrate it either," he continued, ticking his points off on his fingers as he spoke. "So even a machine with the right amount of power would still be trapped, unless it had assistance from the outside. Minion and I lost a few brainbots to the cause in our early experimentation." He shook his head. "No, the only way it would work is if the object or person inside the boa plasma was capable of generating a sufficient amount of its own raw, kinetic energy to break free."

Megamind again turned his head in the direction Wayne had flown, then looked back at Roxanne. "So, yes: in theory, someone with Metro Man's powers would certainly be strong enough to do it," he said. "But without testing that theory, there was no way of predicting the substance's long-term effect on his super strength. If his powers had failed to immediately return once the gel had been neutralized, he would have remained helpless - at least temporarily - and quite possibly in the same danger of suffocation as any other living thing." Megamind took a deep breath. "I had to be absolutely certain he would regain his abilities quickly enough to free himself."

Roxanne tilted her head and smiled expectantly. "And so you tested it," she stated. It wasn't a question - as though she knew without a doubt Megamind would be dying to explain this to her.

She was right.

Oh, how well she knew him.

Megamind bit down on his bottom lip with an excited gleam in his eyes, the way he always did when he was about to unveil something brilliant. "And so I tested it," he repeated with a self-satisfied grin. "Once I'd received the brainbots' report about what, exactly, had happened at your coffee shop, I knew I'd have to find a way to test it. So I did." He gestured toward Owen. "With the unwitting assistance of our friend the Beetle-Bomber, in fact."

Roxanne raised an eyebrow, awaiting his explanation.

Megamind simply crossed his arms in reply, affecting a casual stance and wiggling his own eyebrows back at her.

Roxanne looked at him for a moment. Then focused her attention on the remains of the demolished rear wall. As she turned back to him, her lips spread into a knowing smile. "The bomb from the prison," she guessed.

"Self-contained, raw, kinetic energy," Megamind replied with a smug and devious smirk. "Set it down a safe distance from the wall, take the shot, wait a few seconds, and-" He smiled flirtatiously - as he so often did whenever he had explained his evil plans to her in the past. "-boom," he finished in a villainous whisper.

Roxanne's returned his gaze with a playful roll of her eyes. "Brilliant," she murmured.

The next thing Megamind knew, her arms were encircling his shoulders again and his hands had alighted upon her hips - his fingertips pressing small dents of pressure into the flesh there.

"Yes," he said softly, but with a hint of good-natured arrogance. "I thought so."

The look Roxanne gave him after that made him want to sweep her up and kiss her positively breathless this time. And he probably would have, if he hadn't sensed a sudden presence at his elbow again. He glanced up to see that Wayne had returned. He was holding Owen's cell phone.

Megamind grumbled inwardly at the man's timing.

"Probably don't want to leave this lying around," Wayne said, offering the phone to Megamind. "Not if it really was being used to trigger the explosives remotely."

Megamind and Roxanne drew apart so Megamind could accept the phone. He slid it into the pocket of his trousers. "I'll have some of the brainbots perform a sweep here for the last bomb," he said with a nod. "Then it should all be over."

Roxanne looked from one man to the other, then relinquished her hold on Megamind completely, taking a quick step back. "You know," she said, nibbling at the corner of her bottom lip with mischievous innocence, "I think I'll go tell Minion how glad I am that he's okay." She retreated for a few more steps, glancing deliberately from Megamind to Wayne and back again. Then she smiled, turned on her heel, and trotted off toward the spider-bot.

Megamind watched as she reached the base of the robot. Using the oversized spikes on its legs and Minion's outstretched hand, she climbed up into the co*ckpit and threw herself joyfully into Minion's robotic arms.

The sight caused a definite smile to tug at the corner of Megamind's lips. Not only because he was relieved to know that the two individuals he cared for most - in this world or any other - were both all right, but also because he realized that Roxanne had purposefully left him all alone with Wayne.

The woman was wickedly devious.

No wonder he loved her.

Right away, however, Megamind's fingers began to fidget. He wasn't sure how comfortable he was with this. But clearly it was something that was important to Roxanne. And if it was important to Roxanne, Megamind would certainly make the effort.

He forcefully cleared his throat.

"Look, I--" Megamind mumbled slightly, then quickly added more volume to his voice. "I wanted to thank you," he said, turning toward the large man beside him. "For what you did for her."

Wayne co*cked his head with a subtle look of surprise. His eyebrows raised a bit and he paused for a moment before responding.

"Oh," he replied, crossing his muscled arms over his broad chest. Suddenly his posture didn't seem at all like the usual, heroic stature of the city's former, co*cksure defender; it was more introverted, cautious - even a little self-protective.

Curiouser and curiouser, Megamind found himself thinking.

Wayne let out a chuckle. He unwrapped one of his arms and massaged vigorously at the back of his neck. His hand came away with a few more bits of glue and hardened boa plasma. "I never would have let that guy hurt her, you know," he said as he shook the flecks of residue to the floor.

Megamind angled his head inquisitively.

That guy.

Not "that foul villain" or "that evil fiend" or even "that vile evildoer".

Just simply . . . "that guy".

There was something odd about hearing Metro Man speak without all the grandiose descriptives. It was so strangely . . . normal.

Wayne shrugged self-effacingly. "It really wasn't a big deal," he finally said.

But it was. It was a big deal, and Megamind knew it. Metro Man had made a deliberate choice to leave the public eye a year ago. It was what he had said he'd wanted - his chance to find his true calling and genuine happiness in his life. He had even gone so far as to fake his own death in order to guarantee that he would never again be expected to perform the heroic obligations that he had found to be such a burden: defending the people of Metro City, or participating in the recurring "game" that Megamind, himself, consistently initiated.

But then, without a moment's hesitation, Wayne Scott had chosen to end all that.

Willingly.

All to protect Roxanne.

It was most certainly a very big deal.

In fact - Megamind's mouth curved into a discreet, appreciating smile - it was actually rather heroic.

"I admit, that was a pretty impressive gun," Wayne added after a beat, a chuckle rumbling around inside his chest. "Both of them, actually."

Megamind's grin widened. "Everything I make is impressive," he retorted with a casual brush of his hand. "But what happened today actually wasn't the only thing I was talking about." He turned his head back up toward the man beside him, this time with a more sincere expression.

For a moment, Wayne merely blinked. There was a slightly confused look in his blue eyes.

"That day at Metro Tower," Megamind clarified. "The falling concrete." Then he frowned. "I wouldn't have gotten to her in time," he said. "I owe you for that."

Wayne continued to stare. Then his face broke into a genuine, lopsided grin. "How did you know that was me?" he asked.

Megamind sniffed. "Are you kidding?" he exclaimed. "The angle of decent practically defied the laws of physics. Clearly, it had your goody-two-shoes fingerprints all over it." It didn't take long for Megamind to grow serious again. "Thank you," he said more softly. He turned his head to focus his eyes on Roxanne, in the co*ckpit of the spider-bot with Minion. "She means . . . so much to me."

Wayne nodded as his eyes traveled in the same direction. "So I've noticed," he mused. Then he focused on Megamind's profile. "She feels the same, you know," he said. "Those days in the coffee shop? We always ended up talking about you."

Megamind had really tried to act unflappable while speaking to his rival, but he couldn't stop a huge smile from spreading across his face at that. It sort of put Owen's photographs into a completely different perspective. As Megamind's silly grin spread even further, he averted his gaze away from Metro Man and down toward his feet.

The two men stood in a strange, companionable silence for a few moments. Then Wayne shifted his attention to the park outside. The rain was stopping, and only intermittent drops were still dribbling steadily from the fractured stone framing the huge hole in the building. Wayne gazed wistfully at the world beyond the broken wall. He sighed.

"They're going to hate me now," he said in a soft voice. He turned his gaze back down to Megamind and smiled sadly. "Aren't they?"

Megamind looked back up at him. He blinked. It was unspeakably surreal to see his rival look so insecure. All their lives, Metro Man had been nothing if not infuriatingly confident. Megamind wasn't sure what to make of this new development. But it was unsettling enough that he felt the need to say . . . something.

"I don't know," he began. "But I wouldn't be so sure. From one formerly loathed public figure to another, I can attest that the citizens of Metrocity are a rather forgiving group of mindless drones."

Wayne shot a small scowl at him, evoking a genuine chuckle from Megamind. It seemed Metro Man was still defending the people of his city.

"Oh, come on," Megamind drawled in response. "I'm just kidding." He waved a hand dismissively through the air. "But you have to admit: there is an ounce of truth to it. I mean, just look at me." He spread his arms out to his sides. "A year ago, I terrorized them and took over their city." He shrugged and let his arms fall. "Now I'm defending it. And they actually like me. Things . . . change." He turned his gaze out into the park. "I have a feeling they won't hold anything against their hero for very long. And the ones who do?" Megamind sniffed. "Who cares?"

Wayne laughed self-depreciatingly. "That's easy for you to say, little buddy."

Megamind shrugged again. "Only because I have more experience being despised than you."

Wayne stiffened at that. His cheeks flushed strangely. "Oh, no," he said. "I really didn't mean it like-"

Megamind raised a hand to interrupt him. "What I'm saying is, I'm the voice of experience here," he retorted with a small grin. Then he shook his head, crossing his arms. "You know what your problem is, Way-en? You've never had anyone dislike you. You're just not used to it."

Wayne snorted. "You always hated me," he pointed out.

Megamind did not stop smiling, but his eyes took on a hint of melancholy. After a beat, he glanced back toward the park. "That isn't true," he said, very quietly. Though with Metro Man's super hearing, it was doubtful he missed it.

After that, the silence stretched out a little long for Megamind's comfort. He was grateful when the man beside him finally broke it.

"So how do you think this is going to work?" Wayne asked.

Megamind co*cked his head. "How is what going to work?"

Wayne rolled his large shoulders and scratched at the back of his neck. "Figuring out this whole hero thing," he muttered. "Now that everyone knows I'm still alive."

Megamind narrowed his eyes at him, slightly confused. "What's to figure out?"

Wayne lifted one eyebrow and glanced back at him. "Come on, little buddy," he droned. "I told you, you can't just quit a gig like this. There are going to be . . . expectations." He shrugged again with a look of resignation.

Megamind's nose wrinkled. "Well, I suppose that's up to you, then, isn't it?" he replied. "It seems difficult to envision anyone shoehorning you back into your old tights against your will, though."

Wayne let out a small, huffing laugh, then the corners of his mouth pulled downward. "It's just that . . ." he sighed. "You said yourself: I forced you into this. You know, taking on 'the role I didn't want anymore'." His fingers framed quotes around the words Megamind had spoken earlier, then his arms dropped to his sides. "Trust me, Megamind, I know how it feels to do this for the wrong reasons . . . to think you don't have a choice in the matter."

Megamind's momentary aggravation tempered a bit and he shook his head, re-crossing his arms over his chest. "Look," he began, "we need to get something straight: a year ago, you did force me to deal with Titan. Which, in hindsight, was only right; Titan was my doing. But understand that nothing you said, did, or didn't do that day ever forced me to continue defending the city afterward. I did have a choice." He raised his eyebrows pointedly. "I made it."

Megamind turned his head to where Minion was maintaining his hold on Owen in the clutches of the spider-bot's claw. The young villain was right-side-up again, but still looking queasy and somewhat worse for wear. Megamind jutted his chin slightly in his direction and Wayne's eyes followed.

"Owen was wrong about a lot of things," Megamind said, "but he was especially wrong about what had the biggest influence on my decision to become a hero. He was so focused on the whole chain of events that occurred last year, the growing approval of the people of Metrocity . . ." Megamind's eyes traveled to the other person in the spider-bot's co*ckpit. ". . . even Roxanne's presence in my life." He shook his head. "He was mistaken to think those were my only reasons."

After a pause, Megamind turned back to Wayne. "As for what I said to you earlier, I only actually meant some of it," he said seriously. "One being: I'm good at defending Metrocity. And you know what else?" He grinned. "I like it." Megamind uncrossed his arms and placed his hands definitively on his hips. "What happened last year, the new public approval, even Roxanne - all of that had an impact, but the real reason I do this is because it's what I want."

Wayne merely looked back at him for a few moments. Then his own smile spread across his face.

Megamind shrugged and crossed his arms again nonchalantly. "So you should do what you want, too," he offered. "It's up to you whether your fringey tights or your old logo play any part in it."

Wayne laughed, shaking his head. "You know what, little buddy?" he replied. "You're a pretty smart guy."

Megamind raised his eyebrow sharply. "If, by that, you mean incredibly handsome and inspiringly brilliant," he retorted dryly, "then, yes, I am."

Wayne rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, pal," he droned with an upturned curve to his mouth.

After a moment, Wayne's face grew more serious. He tilted his head to one side and regarded Megamind curiously. "Can I ask you something?"

Megamind bobbed his head back and forth. "I suppose."

Wayne's brows knitted together and he fixed Megamind with a sidelong look. "Would it have . . . worked?" he asked.

"Would what have worked?" Megamind replied.

"Whatever it was Roxanne seemed to be so afraid of," Wayne clarified. "Obviously that gun of yours managed to really affect me somehow. I couldn't . . . well, I couldn't do anything." He narrowed his gaze and leaned in closer. "Could you have . . . I don't know . . . actually done it? Finished me off, I mean?"

A significant pause stretched between them, and Megamind simply stood there. Then his lips curled into a devious smile and one eyebrow arched high on his forehead. "You know what?" he answered silkily. "I haven't the slightest idea."

For a second Wayne only blinked back at him. Then he returned Megamind's grin.

"Sir?" Minion called out from the co*ckpit of the spider-bot as he began to help Roxanne climb back down the side. "We should probably deliver our villain to where he belongs, don't you think?"

"I couldn't agree more, Minion," Megamind replied as he approached the foot of the robot and reached up to lift Roxanne down the rest of the way. He set her on her feet beside him. "I'm sure the Warden is eagerly anticipating making the acquaintance of our friend the Beetle-Bomber," he added, purposely using the name he had coined, as opposed to the one Owen had chosen for himself.

Then Megamind glanced over his shoulder at Wayne. He paused for a moment, uncertain.

"You could . . . accompany us?" he offered with a small hint of hesitation. "If you want, that is."

Wayne's answering smile seemed surprised, even a bit reserved. "I . . . suppose I could do that." He stepped forward to stand beside the spider-bot as well and regarded the young villain in the claw's grip. "Besides," he announced, placing his hands on his hips and adopting a bit more of his familiar, superhero swagger, "I wouldn't want the citizens of our fair city thinking this vile fiend had gotten the better of me."

"Of course not," Megamind agreed. "Everyone needs to know exactly how I came to your rescue in a blaze of glory and gallantry."

Wayne's mouth quirked into an odd smirk at that. But he didn't respond to Megamind. He simply turned to Roxanne. "You know," he said, "that would actually make a great title for a song." He turned out the empty pockets of his jeans as his feet left the ground and he hovered there. "And me without a single scrap of paper!"

Roxanne giggled and, as Minion steered the spider-bot back out into the park, Wayne followed close behind.

Megamind eyed the retreating back of the former hero narrowly. All his life, the man had been an obstacle. An enemy. An opponent. A rival. Megamind might have even considered him a partner, of sorts, in their ongoing game, but he had never seen him as an ally. And certainly not a friend.

Megamind shook his head. No, he and Metro Man had never been friends. But after today . . . this very strange day . . . and everything that had happened . . .

Maybe . . . someday . . . they could be.

Megamind raised an intrigued eyebrow.

Maybe.

Megamind had turned to join them when he felt a slight tug on his arm. Roxanne was holding on to his elbow. "I just need to run back and grab my shoes," she told him. "I've lost enough of those lately."

For the first time Megamind glanced at her feet and noticed that they were bare. Roxanne quickly returned to her cell, snatched up her pumps from the floor by the jungle gym, and hurried back to Megamind's side. She put her hand on his shoulder for support, brushed off the dust clinging to the bottoms of her soles, and slid her feet back into the shoes. Then she quickened her steps to try and catch up with Minion and Wayne.

They had emerged from the old zoo and were walking quickly through the damp, misty air of the park when Megamind reached out and tugged gently on Roxanne's hand, pulling her to a halt. She turned to face him.

"One thing before we join them," Megamind said. He took a slow step toward her and interlaced the fingers of both his hands with hers.

"Yes?" Roxanne asked with an expectant smile.

Megamind glanced down at their hands between them, tracing gentle lines against her skin with his thumbs. "You said you . . . loved me earlier," he said with a slightly bashful grin. He looked up into her eyes. "You meant that?"

For a moment Roxanne continued to smile at him with genuine affection. Then she slowly leaned forward and pressed her soft lips to his, allowing them to linger there.

When she pulled back, Megamind's eyes were still closed. He fluttered them open to take in her beautiful, smiling face. Small, translucent beads of misty rainwater clung to her hair and to her lashes. Occasionally, the tiny droplets glinted like crystal in the dim, early-evening light that was peeking through the dispersing storm clouds.

"Absolutely," Roxanne replied.

Megamind drew his lower lip between his teeth and grinned as his eyes focused on their hands again. "And the other thing you said earlier," he said. "When you vowed to make Owen pay for everything he had done." There was an unmistakable, devilish gleam in his vibrant, green eyes when he looked up at her. "Did you mean that, too?"

Roxanne offered him a sly smile to match. "You bet your life," she answered.

This time, Megamind reached for her and captured her mouth in a deep, serious kiss, twisting her body against his as one hand coiled tightly into her dampening hair. She reciprocated by clinging to the rumpled folds of his torn, wrinkled shirt. Then, even when Megamind released her, he did not permit her to go far. He continued to hold her close, feeling the heavy cadence of her breath upon his face.

"How delightfully evil of you, Ms. Ritchi," he murmured with a wicked smile.

Roxanne arched back slightly to look him in the eyes again. Her lips peeled into a stunning, devious grin. "I learned from the best," she replied.

Megamind continued to smile for another moment, then his features twisted into a small, teasing frown. "And yet you've never screamed like that for me," he pointed out, feigning hurt.

Roxanne's grin, however, never faltered. "Are you kidding?" she replied. "That was for you."

A suave, former supervillain probably would have flashed a flirtatious smile and played along with an equally suave, villainous response. Megamind, however, felt his facial muscles reflexively tighten into a goofy, love-struck grin while a warm flush crept up through his cheeks to the very tips of his ears.

Roxanne always did know how to leave him at a loss for words.

A moment later, her eyes softened and her voice quieted. She reached up to stroke her thumb down the side of his face. "I knew you would come through today, you know," she said, a calm certainty in her voice. "I knew you would."

Megamind's silly smile tempered into something more meaningful. "Yes, well," he replied with a slight shrug, "someone has to keep an eye on Roxanne Ritchi."

Roxanne leaned forward until her forehead once again touched his. "My hero," she murmured softly.

After a beat, Megamind tipped his head back and looked up at the sky. There was still a touch of dampness in the air, but the clouds above them were starting to break apart, allowing mottled patches of indigo-blue to peek through. As the sun dipped below the horizon, it painted the clouds that clung to the edge of the tree line with a fiery, orange glow. Megamind straightened his neck and looked back at Roxanne.

"It looks like the rain has finally stopped," he observed.

Roxanne smiled and stepped out of their embrace. She tugged gently on his hand.

"Then come on, hero," she said. "Let's go."