Inspired by Glimmer by Ninnik Nishukan My story in NOT a sequel to Glimmer, and does not have continuity with Glimmer. My story stands on its own, only borrowing some basic starting plot ideas, then careens wildly off in its own bizarre direction.

PLOT SUMMARY: Roxanne tricks him, humiliates him, and Megamind vows revenge. But his complicated Plan elicits unexpected reactions in both of them. Set pre-movie, AU/AR

(Do I really have to say this? I do not own Megamind in any way, have no financial stake in the movie or characters, and this story is just for fun. Thanks, DreamWorks, for letting us play in your sandbox.)

This update was done primarily to include a pseudo link to a work or fan art inspired by this story, although I also took the opportunity to correct some typing mistakes and other errors .

Chapter 1. Unexpected Consequences

He was angry. No, furious. No, make that- enraged! She had tricked him, humiliated him. It was wrong! They had an understanding, didn't they? (Even though it had never been spoken of.) He would never hurt her, surely she knew that; and she knew that he knew that she knew that. He would kidnap her and she would be the bait; but she knew it was all a game, and so she was never really frightened (except maybe the first time, but that was sooo long ago). They had a routine; they would banter and fence with words. He would pretend to menace her, and she would act brave and sassy, and they would trade clever comments. It would be fun; she had had fun, too, didn't she? Then she broke the rules, and ruined everything! And suddenly it was shool all over again: he getting his hopes up that he would be accepted, at least a little, maybe allowed to play in the games instead of just being the butt of them; then being excluded or belittled or laughed at, the outcast once again. Dammit, he had trusted her, and she had hurt him. He would take his time and make a glorious, magnificent Plan, detailed, with all the possibilities examined and covered. He didn't know what he would do yet, but he would think of something. This would be his new focus. The rivalry with Metro Man had been getting tedious and boring anyway. He would now put all his energy into achieving his revahnge!

Three months later:

Sitting in a taxi cab on her way home, she laid her head back and closed her eyes. Really, that had been fun, well, sort of, anyway. As a local media celebrity, it was expected that she would attend charity events like this, but she didn't mind, not really. The station paid for her ticket, the food and drinks were usually pretty good, and she would get a chance to socialize with some of her colleagues from work, and sometimes meet new people. Tonight she got to spend more time with the charming professor she interviewed for that report on advances in robotics. She found him attractive, intelligent, and even rather fun, and had allowed herself to speculate about the propriety of offering her phone number. And then he'd gone and introduced her to his very attractive wife who was five months pregnant.

She sighed. It seemed like all the good men were taken, especially now that she finally had time to go out. She should be pleased to have the free time. Three months with no kidnappings. In fact, there had been no sign of Megamind at all during that time. Metro Man barely had anything to do. After years of never knowing when she would be kidnapped. Oh, certainly there was some predictability: whenever Megamind broke out of jail, or whenever there was a big citywide festival event sure to bring out a crowd and possibly the appearance of Metro Man as the guest of honor. Yes, she could pretty much count on a kidnapping then. Of course, the kidnappings also had ensured her position as a star reporter for her station, a generous bonus from the boss, and a certain amount of celebrity status. It certainly helped make her career. But she had been tired of it. She was glad it was over, wasn't she?

Except, if she was being honest with herself, there were moments, sitting bored in her apartment by herself on the weekend, that she would catch herself hoping that Minion would show up with the knockout spray, wondering what kind of outlandish plan, what ingenious new invention Megamind was devising. She would start recalling some of the interchanges they had shared, the playful banter. What was wrong with her? This was insane. Didn't she want a normal life? A normal life, like she'd had for the past two months, when she'd gotten over worrying if he was going to retaliate for the stunt she pulled. (The first month, she anxiously avoided going out except for work). Surely, if he was going to do anything, it would've happened already. She had started to relax. Yes, she had a normal life for two months, going to work, sometimes going out to dinner or lunch or the movies with a girlfriend. But there are also a lot of evenings and weekends spent by herself, alone… and lonely.

When she exited the taxi, and paid the driver, she was surprised to see Carlos, the doorman to her apartment building, sleeping. This was unusual for him. She wondered if he was ill. Still trying to decide if she should leave him alone, slip past him and let herself in, she suddenly smelled a familiar fragrance and everything went dark.

It had been harder than he expected, keeping Minion in the dark, coming up with excuses for why there were no kidnappings, no implementation of any plans to confront Metro Man. Even though ultimately he knew Minion would go along with whatever Megamind planned, he didn't want to deal with the whining, the complaining, the attempts to persuade him, and the looks. Minion was so good at getting him to feel guilty. He hated having conflicts with Minion, his only friend, almost a substitute parent as much as companion since he was an infant. He knew that Minion would not approve of his plans for Miss Ritchi. So Megamind had spoken of vague plots that required a lot of mechanical work, new devices, new types of brainbots, and major alterations to the hoverbike. He kept Minion as busy as possible while Megamind performed the necessary research and oversaw the surveillance for the Plan. The internet had a wealth of information, actually so much that it was difficult to sift through it. And some of it was so contradictory. But he persisted, and finally he decided he had what he needed. He was ready to get his revahnge.

He wouldn't admit it to himself, but he was nervous. He had gotten used to Minion doing the actual kidnapping, but, he told himself, he was a criminal mastermind, a genius; surely he could handle a little kidnapping. He squirmed, remembering what had gone wrong the last time he had performed this task alone. But he wouldn't make the same mistakes again. He was prepared: new gadgets and devices, but especially, a thorough Plan, reviewed over and over in the privacy of his room.

He was ready when the woman collapsed, scooping her up in his arms quickly, and taking her to the hoverbike, with its new invisibility shield and a brace for holding an unconscious passenger. He couldn't use the car; Minion was always suspicious when he wanted to use the car without him. His new spybots, the little insect-like brainbots that could gather information without people noticing, had been invaluable in getting information about Miss Ritchi's movements. (He was so proud of his label for them. He dismissed the nagging thought that he had heard the name before. If he decided to patent them, he would let the patent attorneys sort out the name issue. He could always come up with another magnificent moniker, if he had to.) Well, there was one advantage to the hoverbike; he could get back to the new Lair faster than in the car, and it was essential to get her back to the interrogation room before she awoke.

Where was she? Not at home in her bed, no, it didn't smell like home. Gradually, she became aware of touch sensation again. She was sitting in a chair. There was some pressure around her wrists, as if they were tied. Her eyes snapped open, as the thought came to her, "Megamind." And then the phrase "lulled into a false sense of security." He had done just that, hadn't he? Now, for the first time in a long time, she was afraid, really afraid. The part of her she hated, the part she called "baby" when she was young, and now labeled "damsel in distress," was rattling the door to the closet into which she had been shut years before. "Now we're in for it! I warned you, I warned you, not to poke the tiger, not to pull that stupid stunt! You thought you were so brave, so clever. You thought you understood him so well. You never want to listen to me. But sometimes being afraid is not weak, but actually smart, because sometimes some things are dangerous!"

"Hush! I need to think." The part of her she was so proud of, the intelligent, observant, analyzing reporter pushed herself to the front of her awareness and looked around the room. She couldn't really tell how large the room was. It was dark, much darker than usual. Normally Megamind liked a lot of light; it was better for the video cameras. In fact, it was so dark she couldn't even see the walls, except that one spot near the typical console with the blinking lights. There was his usual, high backed chair. She couldn't tell if he was in it; it was turned away. She looked up, and gave a little gasp. Now the ceiling, that was different. It seemed like it was high, black, with thousands of very tiny lights, as if he was trying to imitate the starry night sky. It was actually, well, pretty.

"Good evening, Miss Ritchi." She looked back toward the console. Yes, he had swiveled the chair around, and was sitting in his usual slouched position, his fingers steepled. "It's been a long time. Did you miss me?" And then he smiled, no, smirked! He touched a switch on the console, and she was bathed in a spotlight. Launching himself from the chair, he stalked toward her. She had forgotten, hadn't thought about it in such a long time; he could be graceful. It surprised her. "We have a lot to talk about. I have done a lot of thinking since our last... encounter."

Now her heart began to race. The damsel was moaning in the closet. "Hush! I need to think. You may be right, I think maybe he is... dangerous tonight." There was something different about him; she couldn't put her finger on it yet. She needed more information. She straightened herself as best she could, took a deep breath, and looked him in the eye. He was approaching the pool of light in which her chair was positioned. She was going to say something, but hesitated; she was distracted by the thought, had he altered his costume somehow? What was it? She shook her head. It would come to her. "Focus!" she said to herself.

Roxanne tried to take control of their interaction by inquiring, "So, what have you been doing these past three months? It's unusual for you to stay out of the limelight for so long." Megamind began to circle around her chair, slowly walking.

"Oh, the usual. Plotting, scheming, inventing. Now you, on the other hand, have had a rather quiet three months, haven't you? Lots of weekend's home in your apartment, visits to the library, a little bit of shopping at the mall, although there was that charity event tonight, wasn't there? Pity an attractive woman like you couldn't get an escort for the evening. Metro Man busy?"

Her heart began to beat faster. "Stalker, he's a stalker," the damsel whimpered in her closet. The reporter ruefully thought, yes, stalkers could be very dangerous.

Then a jolt of electricity went through her arm; not literally, but it might as well have been, the sensation was so shocking. Megamind was trailing his fingers up her bare arm, across her shoulders, and down the other arm as he walked, circling, circling. "I like that dress. You look good in purple." His fingers gently grazed the ruffles at her neckline.

"Calm down!" she screamed at herself mentally. "Get more information!"

She tried to sound nonchalant. "So how soon before you expect Metro Man to arrive?"

"Hmmmm? " Megamind seemed distracted. He was still circling, stroking her arms up and down. "Oh, him; he won't be joining our little party tonight." The last said while standing behind her, both hands on her shoulders. Then he bent his face down close to her ear and whispered, "This is strictly between you... and me."

Suddenly, it hit her, what was different about his costume: he was not wearing gloves. The outfit was practically identical to his usual attire, blue and black, the spandex and leather, the cape, but there were no spikes, and no gloves. What did that mean? She thought, "I have a bad feeling about this."

Things were going according to Plan. He could tell that he had her off-balance, frightened; this was good. It was a little unsettling, though, the effect his actions were having on himself. This was all a little play to unnerve her. So why was he having these strange feelings? Certainly it was always a little exciting when his plans were being executed, but the excitement seemed, oh, different somehow. "Never mind," he told himself, "Stay on target."

"Just us?" She hated that there was a quaver in her voice.

He moved away from her, prowling around the room. At least he'd stop touching her; maybe she could think more clearly. Her heartbeat slowed a little.

"Yes. We need to discuss...your little... escapade... with the gun." He turned and faced her directly. He did look forbidding now. There was no smile, no playful tone. She should say something, but her mind was blank, except for the word "retribution" ringing in her head. "I will admit, I was angry at first, very angry. And quite shocked. This was not like you at all. When I finally got over being angry, I'll admit I was... intrigued. I wondered, wondered for a very long time, what it meant. Sometimes humans are so puzzling. I did research. The Internet is a wonderful thing, isn't it? But I digress. I finally realized that you were showing me that you were more than just the sweet, innocent, inquisitive reporter and hostage. Yes, I knew you were more than just clever, intelligent, observant, pretty….."

He moved closer to her, stood before her, and bending, placed his hands on her shoulders and his face into hers. She became aware of a fragrance, something spicy, she'd never noticed before. Was he wearing cologne, was this his natural scent? "Focus," Roxanne said to herself. "Pay attention, this is important."

"I realized, Miss Ritchi, that a part of you... is evil." She was stunned. She didn't know where this was going. Megamind straightened, and began the circling again, touching her on her arms, her shoulders, lightly grazing her neck. Her head began to spin. This was crazy.

"Get more information!" she told herself. "What do you mean? What do you want?" she said to Megamind. The last part had slipped out unintentionally. She mentally shook herself. Basic reporting skills: ask one question at a time.

"Why, Miss Ritchi, you have more in common with me than I would've guessed. I have been accused of many things, and many of these have been correct. But you, Miss Ritchi, were …. cruel." The last word hissed, with a menacing tone. He was standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders, but this time squeezing them, just a little too hard for comfort.

The damsel was pounding on the door, panicking. "We have to get out, we have to get out."

"There is no way out, except through him," the reporter tried to soothe her. "We have to try and trick him, we need more information. What does he want?"

The damsel retorted, "Oh yes, tricking him, that worked out so well the last time. Now look where we are!"

"Well, it did work, at the time. We need to figure out his weakness."

"His weakness before was that he trusted Roxanne. I don't think we can count on that this time," argued the damsel.

Megamind had worked his way around to the front of her again. He was just standing there, looking at her. His expression was…. no, that couldn't be right? He looked... hurt? Why should she feel guilty? She tried to go on the attack. "What do you mean, cruel?"

His face hardened; his voice was low. "You tricked me, smuggling a concealed weapon into my Lair during your last kidnapping. Do you even have a permit to carry a gun?"

Roxanne blurted, "It was a toy gun."

Prowling around the room again, Megamind waved his hand dismissively." I have almost no experience with your petty human weapons. You know I only use those of my own ingenious design. How was I to know? Even you must admit your gun was realistic looking."

"Well, of course, that was the idea," she said mockingly.

"The point is," he stressed, "you used it to threaten me. You tied me up, and left me. But that was not the worst, oh, no." Again he was in her face, his voice low and threatening. "You used my own video equipment, my own, and broadcast images of me, to the public. It was..." and now he turned his back on her. "You embarrassed me. You humiliated me," he said softly.

He hadn't meant to be so honest. He didn't want her to see the genuine anguish on his face. "Back to the Plan," he said to himself. He looked back at her again, his face full of fury. "Did it help the ratings?" he sneered.

He was hurt. She'd never expected anything like this; it shocked her. He had always seemed so arrogant, so egotistical, like nothing could touch him. Now she felt guilty. "Crazy, crazy, crazy," she said to herself. He was a villain. Why should she feel sorry for him? He was back to prowling again.

"I didn't do it for ratings," she said softly. "I just….." she trailed off. There was silence for a while.

He was standing behind her again. Quietly, he said, "Perhaps, you did it to provoke me. Perhaps, you wanted... a change in our... relationship." He was back to circling, trailing his fingers along her arms, but not as frequently, not every time.

Her mouth was dry, thoughts whirling. His changes in mood were giving her mental whiplash. "Our...r-r- relationship?" Roxanne stammered.

Again, the dismissive waving of the hand, as Megamind said, "You know, kidnapper and hostage. I'll admit, it is rather.… limiting."

"What kind of... changes… do you have in mind?" (I can't believe I'm having this conversation, Roxanne thought to herself.)

"The question is... what kind of changes... do you want, Ms. Ritchi? You are, after all, the one who provoked this." And the smile was back on his face, and there was humor in his voice, as he bent and whispered this in her ear. He was standing behind her again, and he reached up with a hand and stroked her cheek.

There was a buzzing in her head, and she thought distantly that his fingers were warmer than she expected. The reporter's inquisitive mind wondered why she had expected cool. Maybe associating the blueness of his skin with temperature. She could barely hear the damsel, whining in her closet. There were new thoughts, new feelings, being elicited in her now. "Crazy, crazy, crazy" she chanted in her head. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but a part of her was just a little excited by the touching. How long had it been since she'd had a relationship with a man, a relationship that permitted the little touches, something more than a chaste hug. What had she thought, so long ago, in the taxicab? All the good men are unavailable. So, what, now her only option was "a bad boy?" Well, she supposed there was Metro Man, but she'd never been attracted to him; he wasn't really her type.

"And this blue alien is?" the damsel was shrieking. Roxanne knew that it made no sense. He was the villain, but... in high school, and college, really, all her adult life, she'd always been more attracted to guys who were intelligent, geeky, even nerdy, the ones who were a little different, sometimes even eccentric." What is wrong with me?"

"Stockholm syndrome?" the reporter suggested.

"I have to play along. What else can I do?" she told herself.

Roxanne turned the question back to Megamind. Softly, she asked, "What are you proposing?"

"Let's discuss... possibilities." He walked away again toward the console, but, halfway there, turned back to her and asked, "Are you thirsty?"

Mental whiplash again. "What?" she responded.

Megamind repeated himself, "Are you thirsty? I expected this to take a while; I am prepared. There are a variety of drinks, water, lemonade, a selection of soft drinks, there's even some wine; what was the name? Oh, yes," and he mentioned something that Roxanne recognized as being in her refrigerator at home.

"Water would be fine," Roxanne replied.

Megamind walked to the console and touched a switch, and suddenly a soft light played over a table in the corner. Walking back to her, he again stood behind her chair. She felt a vibration and heard a click, and suddenly he was wheeling her to that little cloth covered table. Once there, he went to a small refrigerator, and removed a bottle of water. Again, it was a brand she knew was in her own refrigerator. "I think I'll try the wine," stated Megamind. (He thought to himself, maybe this is a little incautious, but he was feeling very confident; things were going so well. Besides, drinking wine will make him look confident.)

"How do you expect me to drink with my hands tied?" Roxanne queried.

("Oh, very good," said the damsel. "I'm impressed.")

"Oh, I plan to untie you... eventually. But not just yet." Megamind placed two wine glasses on the table. Pouring a small amount of wine in one glass, he poured her water in the other.

"I could have drunk from the bottle," Roxanne murmured.

"Oh no," Megamind stated, "that would not be... nearly elegant enough." And placing one hand gently under her chin, he brought the glass to her lips with the other.

The thought crossed her mind: take a sip of water, spit in his face... no, no, no that would be really stupid! Where did that come from? "I'm scared, which makes me angry," answered the reporter. "In this situation, it's probably better to... tap into... I can't believe I'm saying this... the part that is... enjoying this."

"Enjoying this?" the damsel shrieked again.

"Shut up!" they shouted at her. Play along, right, that's the strategy.

"Thank you," she murmured. Then she was silent, waiting for him to take the lead.

Another question: "Are you hungry? I know you had dinner around 7 PM, but that was, oh, hours ago." He looked at her inquisitively awaiting her answer. (He'd been too nervous himself to eat earlier, and really wasn't all that hungry now. But it was polite to offer, and he wanted her to see him as a gentleman.)

She spluttered, "How did you know that?"

He really shouldn't, but he was so proud of his device, and to be honest, he wanted to show off a little in front of her. Moving quickly from the table to the console, he opened a drawer and took something out. The object flew out of his hand. It was so small, she could barely see it. It flew slowly, drifting more than anything else. By the time that it rested on the table 6 inches from her water glass, Megamind was already seated. He began to speak more quickly. "Notice, it looks like an insect; you'd have to look very carefully to see that it's mechanical. It can pick up both sound and image and relay it back to the Lair. I can control it remotely, and it can even operate autonomously with the proper programming." He was looking at her, eagerly, hoping to see something like approval, or amazement on her face.

Again she spluttered, "You were spying on me?"

He sat back, a little hurt, a little angry. In a truculent voice, he stated, "But of course. Reconnaissance is essential to any plan."

She watched him, the emotions flickering across his face so quickly, she almost thought they weren't there. "The hurt before the anger, yes," the reporter noted, "we can use this. He always wants to be impressive. Stroke his ego," she directed.

Roxanne took a deep breath. "May I see it more closely?" she said gently. Hesitantly, Megamind picked it up, and held it close to her eyes. "Yes," she murmured, "very ingenious. I interviewed a professor recently, from the university, a specialist in robotics. He showed me some things, but nothing this delicate, this realistic. Quite impressive." And really, she wasn't lying: it was amazing. She didn't have to fake this. She looked into his face, and again, the emotions flickering quickly. Pride, pleasure, and something else. She would not have believed it, but he was... blushing. She could see the change of color in his ears and cheeks, not exactly pink, more lavender, or violet. For some reason, she felt herself softening toward him.

Megamind took the little spybot, and laid it further away on the table. He was a little flustered. He shouldn't care so much that she had complimented it, but he did. Where was he? Oh yes. "But you never told me; do you want something to eat?"

Roxanne found to her surprise that she was a little hungry. What time was it? "What do you have to offer?"

"Well, you have had dinner, so I assumed something more in the line of a snack or dessert. Let's see, there is pop-ped corn, brownies, shrimp with this red sauce, what was the name? Oh yes, cocked –tail sauce. (I've never had it, but I understand you like it.) What else? Cheesecake with strawberries, I like that. Potato chips, pretzels, Doritos. (Minion really likes those, so we always have them around). Does anything sound appealing? " The eagerness in his voice was really rather... sweet.

Quite against her will, she was... impressed again. He really had gone to a lot of trouble. Wait a minute... her brand of wine, her brand of water, all the snacks, mostly things she's liked. The fear was bubbling up inside her, but also anger. "Have those things been in my apartment? Have YOU been in my apartment? Spying on me in MY apartment!"

He was bewildered by her questions."But I already told you that you have been under surveillance. You have been my focus of study these last few months. I wanted to understand you. You would never have consented to answer my questions. Minion, even in a disguise, is not always clever enough to remain unnoticed. I am much better at keeping my identity secret while in disguise, but a stranger asking your co-workers and friends direct questions? That would never do. It would draw... unwanted attention. The spybots were a more discreet way of gathering information."

Then her exact words, her tone, the anxious but irritated look in her face, made a connection in his brain. Megamind suddenly looked embarrassed. "Oh, no. I've never been in your apartment; that would have been unnecessarily risky. And let me reassure you that the spybots were carefully programmed to stay out of your bedroom and bathroom. I would never invade your privacy that way." (Roxanne suspected he had no idea of the irony of that statement, but kept that thought to herself.) "Oh, by the way, I learned that you had been telling the truth: you really aren't dating Metro Man. But back to the point: what would you like to eat?"

Maybe eating something would help her think. "Let's start with a brownie." She liked chocolate; chocolate was always good. "Still would be easier to eat with my hands untied."

"Not necessary. Maybe... later." He placed a brownie on one plate, and a slice of cheesecake on another. He picked up a fork, broke off a small piece of the brownie and held it to her lips. Whoa, he was going to feed her. This was... different.

"Play a long," she sternly told herself. She took it in her mouth. Amazing, it was wonderful. She couldn't help smiling. She watched him feed himself the cheesecake, fortunately using a different fork. "That's quite good," she offered.

"I'll tell Minion you said so," Megamind replied. "He made it from scratch. He's really quite a good cook. But the cheesecake, that's takeout. He can't quite do cheesecake. It's from that little Italian restaurant on Amberly Street."

"Do they deliver?" Roxanne said with a smile.

"Ha, Ha. No, of course I send Minion to do pick up. And before you say anything, of course, he goes in disguise. I wouldn't expect the staff to remain calm and do their jobs if a robotic gorilla with a fishbowl head showed up."

She couldn't help herself, the image made her laugh.

She laughed, he'd made her laugh. He felt warm inside; he liked doing that. He slowly fed her the brownie, and offered her sips of water. He asked her questions, such as what restaurants she liked; and she asked about Minion's cooking, whether Megamind had ever gone to a restaurant in disguise. (The answer, only a few times; it made him too nervous, he couldn't relax.) When they were done with their dessert, he put the dishes away; she couldn't see where. He asked, "Are you sure you don't want some wine?"

(Play along.) "Sure, why not?" After he poured the wine into her glass, she tentatively suggested, "It really would be easier, and more... enjoyable, if I could drink the wine myself. Why don't you untie my hands? My feet would still be tied."

Megamind was enjoying himself. Maybe he'd have a little too much wine; he was feeling a little reckless. She was right, her feet were still tied.

"Well, why not? And just in case, you have any ideas, Ms. Ritchi, the room is locked, and can only be unlocked with the code spoken in my voice. And, I know you don't have a weapon this time."

"Of course, I'm unarmed, but how did you know?"

"I built a device, like your airport security people have, one of those scanners-"

"You saw me naked!" she cut him off. Even the reporter was shrieking along with the damsel now.

Confusion, puzzlement was on Megamind's face, followed by horror. "No, no, no! Not one of those-I'd read about the problem-no, no. My device is far superior. Only if a weapon, an explosive device, something of that nature, is detected, it shows up on a rough body outline. It doesn't show what, what, is underneath... the clothing-no-no."

Her racing heart started to slow. "Well, well, oh, all right then."

He stood up, shaking a little, and pushed the image that had started to come into his mind away. No, he was a gentleman. He looked her directly in the eye. He asked her, "You promise, promise me you won't try to get away, no funny business?" Roxanne nodded her head. He went behind her back and released her hands. He spun her to the side, and massaged her wrists. "Sorry, hope the restraints weren't too tight." The touch was doing it again, causing strange sensations in her chest. She wouldn't look him in the face. She didn't want him to see, what? She didn't even know herself what she was feeling. Finally, he set down across the table, picked up his glass, raised it, and suggested, "A toast."

"What are we toasting?" she queried.

"How about, possibilities?" Megamind responded.

"All right, to possibilities," she agreed. And they clinked glasses.

They slowly drank the bottle, Megamind refilling her glass whenever it was close to empty. She was trying to drink less than he, but found it hard to keep track. He was asking her questions, acting the reporter instead of her, asking about her childhood, her work, her travels. (He'd never been anywhere but Metro City and its outskirts; she shouldn't have been surprised.) When was the last time anyone had shown such an interest in her? She realized, to her astonishment, that she was actually enjoying herself. How much time had passed? She didn't know; there was no clock. Megamind was wearing a watch, but she couldn't see it from her angle.

All of a sudden, there was a voice emanating from a speaker in the console. "Sir? Are you all right in there, Sir?" Megamind looked startled, then mildly irritated. Glancing at his watch, he seemed surprised.

"Oh, Minion, you're back from all those errands I sent you on. I didn't realize how late it was." He turned toward the console. "It's fine, Minion, you can go to bed. I don't need you."

"But sir, have you eaten? I know you tend to forget to eat when you're busy." There was a pause, and a soft clicking noise. "Sir, do you know this door is locked? I have told you, over and over, you shouldn't lock the door when you're working in there. If something should happen, it would make it difficult for me to get in to save, er, help you."

Megamind was getting genuinely irritated now and turned toward the console. "I told you, Minion," he said sternly, "I don't need you. Go... away."

There was a war going on inside Roxanne's head. The part that had been enjoying herself wanted to stay quiet, wait for Minion to go away, and have Megamind's attention back on her, to see where this conversation, this evening would go. But the damsel and the reporter, they had other ideas. This was an opportunity. Her right hand grabbed the now empty wine bottle while Megamind's back was to her, and hit him on the head. "Minion!" she hollered.

"Ow!" Megamind exclaimed, leaning over, and then jumping up, putting his hands on his head. Minion's voice was frantic, asking what was wrong, was that Miss Ritchi in there with him, and demanding to be let in. Suddenly, Megamind had her right wrist in his left hand, and was putting his other arm around her waist, jerking her upright. He slammed her against the wall. No, that wasn't accurate, the reporter corrected. Yes, he pushed, pushed forcefully, but he didn't slam her, he didn't injure her. But the length of his body was pressed against hers, and each wrist was trapped by one of his hands. "Vixen!" he hissed in her ear. "Be quiet," he said sternly, but more softly. Raising his voice, Megamind stated "Nothing I can't handle, Minion. Go away."

"But, sir..."

More firmly, "Go... away."

Softly, "Yes, Sir."

In her head, Roxanne was chanting "mistake, mistake, mistake." With embarrassment, she realized her body was responding to the closeness, to the pressure. It was exciting her, arousing her. What was wrong with her? She was barely paying attention to the conversation between Megamind and Minion. There was silence; Minion had gone away, she thought. But then his voice, tentative, came over the intercom again.

"Sir. Should I make up the spare room for Miss Ritchi? Will she be spending the night? It's already rather late." And then, hope in Minion's voice, "Or would you like me to take her home?"

Megamind chuckled. Whispering in her ear, he asked, "Well, what do you think Miss Ritchi? Should Minion prepare the spare room for you? How late do you plan to stay?"

She could hear him, feel him, breathing fast and shallow. Would he really let her leave now? She dared to look at his eyes. "Do I have a choice?"

He was still pressing himself against her, her wrists still captured. Where was that bottle? She'd lost it somewhere before her back touched the wall, which the reporter observed was covered in a dark fabric. He placed his cheek against hers, just for a moment, and then lifted his head. "Hmmm…I think….not just yet. We still have issues to discuss." He raised his voice, and spoke to Minion. "All right, just in case, go prepare the spare room."

"Yes, sir," and she thought she could hear the sound of his footsteps receding.

Megamind murmured under his breath, "At least it'll make him leave. He likes having a task to perform. Helps him feel useful."

Directing his attention back to Roxanne, Megamind stated, "Now where were we, before you behaved so rudely?"

"I... don't remember."

"Fortunately, I do."


If you noticed, yes, I like to slip in quotes from favorite movies and books, applying them to new contexts.

I have heard that standup comedians say "Dying is easy; comedy is hard." And I know what is funny to one person can just sound stupid to another. If you have bothered to read this to the end, I hope you appreciated my efforts at humor. This is my first posting.

Phenixia has done me the great honor of drawing fan art inspired by this work of fanfiction. You can see it on the DeviantArt website by cutting and pasting the following and removing the extra spaces.

h t t p : / / browse . deviantart . com /#/d3drq91