When Minion's suit automatically hums to life at 7:00 on Saturday morning, the first thing he notices is that the lair is still almost silent. That's unusual; Megamind almost always wakes before Minion does and already has everything up and running.

Minion checks the massive back room, first. It's where Megamind spends most of his time, after all – brainstorming and drafting and modifying old inventions and sometimes just stalking up and down and ranting quietly to himself about who knew what – but he isn't there. His chair is empty, the couch is empty, and the globe that usually hangs above the drafting table is nowhere to be seen.

He glances at the table as he walks by and realizes that Megamind is working on one of his suggestions: a filter for the water in Metro Harbor. He smiles – even with the brainbots' cleanup, the recent runoff into the harbor has been full of gross chemicals and poisons, and Megamind has evidently taken Minion's concerns to heart, for once. Well, more openly to heart. Their relationship has never been that of the typical master and servant.

And, damn, where is he?

He can't possibly still be sleeping. He never sleeps past six unless he's recovering from one of his battles with Metro Man. Maybe he went somewhere for breakfast?

Minion shakes himself, irritated. When has Megamind ever gone out for breakfast? For that matter, when has he ever gone out to get food, period? That's Minion's job.

Okay, breakfast is out. Maybe he's working on one of the reactors. But they both sound fine, both humming away in unison, and Megamind wouldn't work on either of them without shutting it down first. He does in fact have a brain in his head.

Is he hurt? Could he be hurt?

Minion pauses. Megamind has slipped and fallen before during all his racing about; for all his agility and toughness, twisted ankles and sprained wrists are nothing new to him, and Minion's worries have been going full tilt ever since the Titan Fiasco. Maybe Megamind fell and hit his head? Twisted his neck? It's enough to send Minion into a tailspin.

Well, and maybe he's still asleep. There's a first time for everything, Minion insists inwardly as he all but runs to his friend's room.

Despite his distress, he pushes the door open as quietly as he can; if Megamind is still sleeping, the last thing Minion wants to do is wake him up. He gets little enough sleep as it is.

And, yes, there's Megamind, flat on his back in the middle of his bed, wide awake and grinning wildly up at the ceiling like a lunatic. He hears the door open in spite of Minion's care, and cranes his head around to catch the fish's eye. He beams, hardly able to contain the sheer glee obviously coursing through him. And who can blame him, really? Roxanne is snugged tight under his arm, her head on his shoulder and her arm around his middle.

His master's manic, wordless grin tells Minion more than any words ever could, and the fish rolls his eyes and closes the door, but not before aiming a finger at Megamind and mouthing very clearly, "I TOLD YOU SO," adding a little stab of his finger for emphasis at the end.

With the door safely shut behind him, he sags against it and smiles. He has been hoping for this for the past two weeks. He had hardly dared to hope, at first, but as his week with Roxanne had worn on he had grown increasingly sure of her. And increasingly fond of her. Heavens, she needs him as much as Megamind does.

"Fist pump," he says to himself, and then, "One more for breakfast."