Disclaimer: This is original fan work, intended solely for the entertainment of the readers, and in no way intends any infringement on any copyrights, trademarks, or licenses held by Dreamworks Animation SKG, Alan Schoolcroft, Brent Simons, or the holders of any other legal rights or licenses pertaining to Megamind.

Author's Note: This will be a group of stories tied together with a common thread: music. As I am also a composer, the "form" of the work will be that of the kind of composition I write, these days: a symphony.

First Movement:

Pride and Prejudice and iPods

It had been over two months since the opening of Megamind's new museum, in that miserable time of the year that came between New Year's and spring, a perfectly depressing part of winter when the Lake Michigan snow machine simply wouldn't quit and it seemed that warmer weather would never come again. Much as she enjoyed living in Metro City, this was the time of year when Roxanne Ritchi wished that the city could be relocated just a wee bit farther south — say, to Jamaica. Mid-winter in Michigan was not one of Roxanne's favorite things; she found it so dreadfully dull, in fact, that this year, she also found herself wishing that Megamind might forget he was her boyfriend for a day or two, just so the frigid mind-numbing routine might be broken up with the excitement of a good kidnapping. Even the environs of her beautifully rebuilt Tuscan villa style apartment wasn't quite enough to lift the emotional pall.

So, on a dreadfully dull Thursday night near the beginning of February, Roxanne left the station and found herself heading not for home, but out onto the long curve of land that had been the old industrial district, to the south and west of Muskegon Bay, headed for the former warehouse that had been Megamind's central Lair for a fair number of years. She knew that she wasn't expected; they had a date planned for tomorrow night and an annually dull charity event to attend the night after, but Roxanne knew that for her, the welcome mat was always out.

During the six weeks in which she had shared the Lair's living quarters with Megamind and Minion while her apartment had been repaired and remodeled after being trashed by Titan, she had been shown all the holographically disguised entrances, including those for vehicles. One in particular she knew was reserved for her and her new car, a fully tricked out Corvette ZR1, its sleek black finish customized with her boyfriend's electric blue and chrome lightning design. When her previous car had been squashed by a jealous and angry Hal — fortunately in her absence — she had mentioned how she had coveted a 'Vette ever since high school, but had never been able to afford even a decent used one. As he had both the money and an appreciation for fast sports cars, Megamind had been delighted to make that wish come true for her in particularly extravagant style, and since the custom paint job had been Roxanne's suggestion, he'd been delighted all the more.

So rather than go home and spend another dull and empty evening trying to get rid of the lingering headache crummy days at work often gave her, she drove right up to the Lair, aimed her expensive brand new sports car at an imposing brick wall, and boldly plowed right through the very convincing illusion. Her usual parking spot awaited her on the other side, along with several brainbots eager to detail every speck of dirt from the vehicle, and one pink brainbot that practically squealed with delight to see her.

"Hi, Pinky," she greeted the happy little bot that had "adopted" her during the time she'd been in residence awaiting the completion of her apartment renovation. "What's—"

skreek...greetch...skruuutch...

"—up?" The noises that greeted Roxanne's ears were faint, but not faint enough. They reminded her of—

skreeeeeeeeeeeeetchk...

Fingernails on the blackboard.

That weird sensation that zings up your nose and through your skull when you accidentally touch a filling with a metal fork or a bit of tinfoil.

The wail of a sore-throated banshee with a strangulated hemorrhoid.

shreeeeeee—unk!

To Roxanne's relief, the noise stopped. "Huh," she said to Pinky, who as always was only too happy to hover about Daddy's girlfriend. "That was... weird. Is there something wrong with the dishwasher?" The sounds, which came from the upper floor where the living quarters were located, had a suspicious rubbing, scraping, then snapping quality, like a drive belt of some sort abrading itself before breaking.

"Bow—"

SKWEEEEEEE eeeeeeeeeee EEEEEENGK!

The ear splitting shriek — which had all the soothing and dulcet tones of twenty squalling alley cats with inflamed adenoids being run over by a garbage truck with the world's largest and loudest air brakes somehow grinding against rusty metal — sent Pinky cringing behind Roxanne and the other car-servicing brainbots into hiding under and inside the Corvette. When her own ears recovered enough from the aural assault so that she could hear again, Roxanne's reporter instincts kicked in, and she decided it was time to investigate.

phflunk-phflunk-phflunk-shkweeeeeek... phflunk-phflunk-phflunk-shkweeeeeeeeeeek...

The noises were quiet again, though the rusty nails dragging on the blackboard quality was now joined by a thunking that was reminiscent of someone banging on clogged pipes with a dead fish. No, bad metaphor around here; make that a dead rat. Or perhaps the drops from a pipe of leaking molasses landing on top of an overturned plastic tub. Whatever it was, it was nothing Roxanne had ever before heard around the Lair, evil or non, and she was sure she didn't want to hear it again, it was so annoying. She was beginning to wonder if either Megamind or Minion were at home, since their new work as defenders of the city could call them away at any time. She was positive that if her blue hero had been around, she'd be hearing his even more strident complaints about whatever was causing such hideous sounds, and thus would also be hearing the thunks, bumps, and bangs of him doing whatever was necessary to stop it.

shkweeeeeee EEEEEEEEEEEEEE eeeenk! phflunk-phflunk-phflunk...

That's it, Roxanne decided. If the guys were home, they could explain these weird noises, and if they weren't, the least she could do would be to check it out, just in case it was something like the dishwasher having trouble, about to explode and leave Minion's beautiful kitchen ankle-deep in soapy water. The way Pinky and the other brainbots were acting, this didn't seem like something normal.

The reporter headed for the elevator that went up to the living quarters rather than to the freight elevator that led to the rooftop "observatory." Just as she stepped past the pile of gizmos and boxes that formed a sort of partial wall between Megamind's "thinking area" and the nook containing the elevator door, the shadow of something large coming from around a corner beyond the door nearly made her jump out of her skin — until she saw that it was only Minion, carrying a basketful of clean laundry. The piscine grinned happily as he saw her.

"Ms Ritchi!" he greeted cheerfully. He was always happy to see Roxanne, since she played a major part in recent positive developments in his lifelong career of seeing to Megamind's welfare and happiness. "What brings you here on a dreary night like this? I thought your date with Sir isn't until tomorrow night."

"It isn't," she admitted, taking a few deep breaths to calm her startled heart. "I just had a really lousy day at work, and I thought I'd enjoy seeing a few friendly faces."

Minion's expression turned wistful as he hit the call button for the elevator. "Yeah, it seems like this hasn't been the best day for a lot of people. I'm sure Sir will be happy to see you."

Something in his tone made Roxanne's reporter radar go off. "Oh? Did something happen to spoil his day, too—?"

Shkreeeeeeee EEEeee EEEEeee EEEEEeeeeetchnk...

She winced. "—like that?"

Minion cocked his head, which meant his entire fishy body tilted in its bowl. "That...?"

SHREEEEEEE eeeeeeeeeee EEEEEENK!

"Oh, that! No, that's not the problem — well, not for Sir, anyway, though it seems to drive the brainbots crazy. That's just Sir upstairs, practicing."

"Practicing what? How to torture robot guinea pigs and hamsters?"

Minion chuckled as they boarded the lift. "Yeah, it does kinda sound like that, doesn't it? Maybe that's why it bothers the brainbots so much. It's just the boss learning how to play the violin."

That was very likely dead last on Roxanne's list of possible horrific explanations. "Come again?" she asked, thinking she'd misunderstood.

"Sir is teaching himself how to play the violin. I know, it sounds pretty strange given his usual tastes in music, but he has his reasons. For one thing — and please, keep this off the record, he'd kill me if this got out — he's got a number of guilty pleasures when it comes to music, usually just for things like relaxation or when he gets into certain moods or he needs to think hard about non-evil or even non-hero stuff. Remind me to show you some of the playlists he has for his iPod the next time you're here and he's not. Some of it'll probably knock your socks off. But remember, that'll be off the record, too."

Roxanne smiled. "Cross my heart," she vowed. As astonishingly open as Megamind could be about so many things that others would find embarrassing, he was tremendously sensitive in other ways, and could be wounded deeply from the smallest scratch. When Minion warned her, she knew to take it seriously, or she would risk hurting her boyfriend in ways she very much wanted to avoid. After the incident in the rain, she knew all too well how easy it would be for her to break his heart and his spirit — something she never wanted to do again. "So, did he decide to take up the violin because today was a bad day?"

"Oh, no," Minion assured her as they reached the living level. For the moment, the awful noises had stopped. "He started it a few days ago, but it's something he's been thinking about since he became a good guy. When Sir was a boy, he read anything he could get his hands on — I'm sure he's mentioned that to you. Burned through the prison library so fast, some of the books probably still have scorch marks. Aside from the academic subjects, he loved stories that make you think, or about people who were great thinkers. He was crazy for the Sherlock Holmes stories, but after he decided his destiny was to be a supervillain, he couldn't very well say he identified with a hero, so he gravitated toward Professor Moriarity instead. To tell the truth, though, he still liked Mr. Holmes better because he was in all the stories and Moriarity wasn't. Ever since he became a hero, he started thinking of himself like a kind of detective whenever he comes up against some crime that needs deductive reasoning to be solved. He started toying with the idea of learning the violin back in early December, when he cracked that case about a string of robberies and assaults on the north side. Mr. Holmes played the violin when he needed to work out a tough problem, so Sir thought it might be worth learning so he could give it a try, the next time he comes up against a difficult case like that."

"Oh, so he's not doing it for the art, then," Roxanne deduced as she followed Minion down a hall, toward the linen closet. It was probably just as well, she thought, since the violin was notoriously difficult to master, and Sherlock Holmes had supposedly never been all that good at it. This did explain the apparent aberration, though, since as far as the rest of the world knew, Megamind thrived solely on ear-splitting, head-banging heavy metal rock. These sounds could break eardrums as well, but not in the same deliberately over-amplified bass-heavy hyper-driven way.

But Minion shrugged. "Actually, it's probably for that, too. Sir always appreciates a challenge, and he likes to learn things as well as he can."

Roxanne chuckled softly. "Then that proves his heart was never totally into being evil, doesn't it?"

Minion grinned. "Not even half into it, really. It was just what he thought he had to be."

skreeeeeeeeek...greeeeeeeeeetch...skruuuuuuuuuuutch...

They both winced. "I'm surprised he does this when he knows you're around," the reporter admitted. "Doesn't he hate anyone knowing that he stinks at something?"

The piscine chuckled at her accurate observation. "He does, though really, he's already getting better, and he only started on Tuesday. He just forgot to turn on the sound damping field in the music room, or it's on the blink again. He did give it quite a workout the last time he went at it with his guitar, to blast out the memory of accidentally hearing something of Mr. Scott's on the radio."

He whistled for Pinky, who was as always hanging about as close to Roxanne as she dared. "Tell Sir that Ms Ritchi's here, Pinky. But make sure the sound damper's turned on before you tell him. That way if he forgot, he won't get upset thinking you might've accidentally overheard," he explained to the reporter as Pinky zipped away in the direction of the music room. "He's had kind of a rotten day, and that'd just make things worse."

Now, Roxanne was concerned. "What happened, Minion? I thought that the big story today was his amazing rescue of thirty people caught in the collapse of an old church building out on old Harbor Island."

"Hmm," the fish said reflectively. "How much did you hear about that?"

"A fair amount, since I did the breaking news story from the studio. The place had been condemned last year, the roof caved in from too much ice and snow on unsound structural supports, and the emergency vehicles couldn't get out fast enough because the lift bridge on the only road out to the island had broken down not half an hour earlier. The collapse caused a gas line leak, and the people trapped inside the building would've died from carbon monoxide poisoning by the time regular help could have reached them. Megamind and the bots managed to get everyone out of the building safely with only a few injuries that were all due to the collapse, he got some emergency crews out to the site, then helped fix the bridge and clear the mess. The mayor's thinking of giving him some kind of commendation for it, he did a fantastic job, especially considering that those people weren't even supposed to be out there."

Minion nodded as he stacked the freshly laundered towels and sheets on the cedar shelves. "He did, but that's not the problem. It's..." He hesitated, clearly torn. "I think this is something he should tell you. He needs to talk about it, and with someone other than me. He thinks I'm too biased, and he's right."

She cocked one eyebrow. "And I'm not?"

"Not this way, no. You didn't come from another planet, after all."

Roxanne was fairly certain she knew what this was about. For all that he'd been doing to make amends for his villainous past, there were still too many people in the area who thought of Megamind only as the alien pest who they wanted to go back to where he'd come from, never mind how often it was explained that his planet had been destroyed when he was just a baby. Some idiots actually had the notion that he'd been the cause of that destruction, and had fled to Earth to continue a string of conquests. Damn those movie producers and their fondness for stories with big-headed and/or blue-skinned alien enemies coming to Earth to enslave or kill the people and lay waste to the planet. Once upon a time, Megamind might have enjoyed such films; now, he found them painful reminders of the misguided past he was trying to leave behind.

"I understand," she said, believing that she did. No more was said as Pinky returned — to Roxanne's surprise arriving before Megamind could even be heard coming down the corridor. Unless he was totally immersed in some new invention, the blue genius could be counted on to virtually teleport from wherever he might be in the Lair to greet his girlfriend the moment he knew she'd arrived. This was definitely a major and somewhat unsettling change.

His unusually subdued manner when he showed up at least a full minute later was even more troubling to Roxanne. Oh, his smile and words of welcome were quite genuine, but when she kissed him in greeting, he was hesitant, more hesitant than he'd ever been, as if he was reluctant to touch her — or for her to touch him. She wasn't sure which would be worse, if it was true.

She tried her best to appear interested rather than worried, though her insides were screaming that something was very, very wrong. "Hey, sweetie," she said with a gentle smile. "What's up?"

The look he gave her was so patently forced, Roxanne now knew that something bad had happened, something she needed to know about. "Up?" he replied in a fair imitation of his usual nonchalance. "Nothing! Why should anything be up? Typical day, you know, save the citizens, repair broken infrastructure, send in brainbots to do clean up, same old, same old. Why do you ask? Is something up with you?"

"Hmm, there might be," she ventured, searching for a way to steer this conversation toward more productive ends without causing a unwanted disaster. She hazarded a quick glance at Minion, who shrugged minutely.

"Have you had dinner yet, Ms Ritchi?" the fish asked, a safe enough subject. "We've already eaten, but if you'd like something, we have leftovers, cassoulet with chocolate mousse for dessert."

Roxanne chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood. "You're terrible, Minion, always tempting me like this. If I'm not careful, I'm going to wind up putting on thirty or forty pounds for the camera..."

"Oh, I'm always careful about fats and things," the ichthyoid assured her. "While Sir was studying physics and engineering and science-y stuff, I studied things like nutrition and mechanics and textile arts, to make it easier to take care of him properly. Since those courses were meant for humans anyway, it's easier to know what to do for you." He jerked his head in Megamind's direction and added in a stage whisper, "It's a lot harder with him, getting him to eat right. You have common sense."

His comment won him a mild frown from his ward, which was an improvement over the pensive distraction. "If you're reminding me that I didn't touch my supper, you needn't bother, Minion. I'm just... not hungry."

Roxanne's eyes widened. "Not even the chocolate mousse?" Megamind's fondness for sweets was legendary, but he only shrugged. Now she was beginning to wonder if he was sick, though he was showing no other signs of illness. She glanced back at Minion, thought furiously for a moment, then reached a decision. "I had a late lunch, so I didn't stop for anything after work. A little something would be nice, if you don't mind."

An unspoken communication traveled along their exchanged glances. "No problem, Ms Ritchi, I can have everything ready in about half an hour. Why don't you wait in the living room? I'll have Pinky let you know when everything's ready."

"Thanks, Minion, that'd be great. C'mon, you," she instructed Megamind, nabbing his arm to turn him in the proper direction. She said nothing more, and as the alien didn't fight her, she accepted his passivity, for the time being.

When they had settled on the very comfortable overstuffed leather sofa in the elegant Frank Lloyd Wright inspired living room that was one of Roxanne's favorite places in the uppermost floor of the Lair, she sat beside her beau, turned sideways so that she was facing him. For his own part, Megamind sat facing forward, half-slouched. His thoughts were plainly not in the room, or even in the neighborhood of the Lair, and he was so tense, she could see it in the long muscles of his neck, only partially obscured by the black up-turned collar of his unusually designed but otherwise fairly casual shirt. She sighed.

"Okay, spill it," she said, her tone kind but quite firm. "What happened today?" When he said nothing, she didn't let it go. "You can try to clam up all you want, but it won't do you any good, you know," she pointed out. "If something went down during the work you did today, sooner or later it'll come out — if not through the legitimate press then through the scandal sheets. They love dishing any kind of dirt they can find, even if it isn't really dirty. They'll twist until they make it that way."

For some long moments, the alien fidgeted; finally, he loosed a sigh of surrender. "They won't have to twist that hard," he muttered bitterly. "Roxanne, do you believe that I was created... less than human — an animal? That I'm not just bad, but some kind of literal demon?"

Even with all the strange and shocking things she'd seen during her career as a reporter, nothing could have prepared Roxanne for that question. "What?" she managed to choke out, almost shocked into speechlessness. "Where did this come from?"

Megamind didn't appear inclined to say more, but after several seconds had dragged by in agonizing silence, he grunted softly. "From the people whose lives I saved today," he ground out between clenched teeth. "After the brainbots and I removed enough of the debris to take them out safely, the ones who came out without a scratch started... I don't know what you'd call it. They called me a lot of things — a demon, a beast, the spawn of Satan, unnatural, unclean — soulless."

He finally looked directly at Roxanne, and his green eyes were so troubled and haunted, she felt something clench tightly about her heart. "I'd just saved their lives, and they said I was damned, that I couldn't buy forgiveness because of how I was created, an evil, inhuman monster. I didn't want to lose my temper, though it made me furious to listen to that, but the more I've been thinking about it, the more I've started to wonder. How do I know they aren't right? They aren't the first people to have painted me as evil by nature, not by choice — even I used to believe that. What if I am? What if what I am is something so terrible, I — I'll drag you down with me, just by association? I couldn't live with myself if that were true!"

It felt as if an eternity passed before Roxanne could frame any kind of a response. "Oh, Megamind," she finally breathed. "Sweetie, don't you ever believe people who talk like that! They're angry, bitter, mean, spiteful people who go around with chips on their shoulders, telling everybody that they've got God in their pockets because it makes them feel big and strong when they're really small and petty. You asked me once why there are so many religions in the world, and I think this is one of the reasons. Some people need to think they're the only 'right' people in the universe, and to feel that way, they have to go around labeling other people as 'wrong.' You've done bad things, yes, but you weren't created bad, no more than they were created the way they are. And a lot of these same people go around telling others to repent and ask forgiveness for their sins, the wrongs they make — but they won't forgive them. You've done more than talk about atoning for what you did wrong; you're actually doing it, like you did today when you put your own safety and life in danger to save theirs. If they can't at least be grateful for that, then they're worse than blind and misguided. They're doing wrong, and trying to make you feel guilty for it. You know that, I know you do. Why are you letting them get under your skin like this?"

He was quiet for a few moments before answering. "Because nobody's ever turned on me like that after I helped them. I thought you had all those years ago, after that business with the Bradford gang, but you had a reason because of the traumatic amnesia you suffered. None of these people were hurt that badly, and the ones who yelled at me the most weren't really hurt at all! I—"

He hesitated, looking for the proper words. "I didn't like it when they called me soulless. No one's ever called me that before. That's what I'd call people like serial killers. You look into their eyes, and you see... nothing. But I can't see into my own eyes. I can't tell for sure if I'm like that or not." He looked away again.

Now, Roxanne moved closer to him, reaching out with one hand to gently turn his face back toward her, though she couldn't force him to lift his downcast eyes. "I can see," she told him with as much assurance as she knew how to muster. "And if I've ever met a person whose eyes really are windows to their soul, it's you. Your sleeve isn't the only place you wear your heart, you know. If anyone can look you straight in the eye and call you a soulless monster, they're lying."

The green eyes did look up now, their expression such a desperate need to believe something they feared impossible, Roxanne could not have remained silent had she wanted. "It's true," she promised him. "If anybody has a right to call you evil and a monster, I suppose it's me — and while I'm sorry to admit that I have, I'm much, much happier to admit that you proved me wrong, one hundred percent. These people who went preaching their gospel of hate today, they want you to believe them so that they can have power over you. But even if you give in, it won't stop there. They'll use it as proof that they're right, and then move on to their next victims and start a campaign of hate against them. When you chose not to vent your anger at them, you proved that you're better than them, no matter how much they say they've got Right on their side. You're not a soulless monster; you're a remarkably sensitive and soulful person who was dreadfully hurt when you were very young and took a wrong turn because your hurt let other people define you. The real question isn't what anyone else believes; it's what you believe. What do you believe, Megamind? That they're right?"

The ex-villain leaned into the hand still gently laid along the curve of his cheek and jaw. He looked away, but it was to think, not to avoid. "No," he finally said, eyes returning to Roxanne with an open, ingenuous gaze. "They aren't right. I've never believed in any religion, but I do believe there's something more beyond this life — or I've always wanted to believe it, so I could keep the hope that someday, I'll be able to see my parents again, that I could have a chance for an existence that wasn't so difficult, so painful. And lately, I've been wanting to believe it so that I can tell myself I'll never lose what's become very precious to me." He shifted position to turn fully toward her as he touched the hand on his face.

Roxanne smiled, softly. "I've been thinking that myself," she confessed. "Some days, I wonder if I've lost my mind a little, letting everything between us change so fast — but I always wind up realizing that the crazy part is even thinking thoughts like that. There is something so incredibly honest in what's between us now, it's almost a little scary."

She had never been happier to see her boyfriend smile, even weakly. "Not scary because of anything I did, I hope. It'd be embarrassing after all those years of trying to scare you, to finally succeed by just being honest."

She laughed lightly. "No, it's just the way it is. Sometimes, it's the real things in life that are the most frightening, not because they're bad, but because having them means giving up preconceptions and attitudes that were comfortable, but wrong. Loving you meant I had to let go of all those years of thinking of you as the permanent villain in my life, which meant giving up having a convenient something outside of myself to take the blame when things went wrong. And that meant facing up to the fact that no matter how bad you might've been, I never really had the right to make you my personal scapegoat. That wasn't right, it wasn't fair, and I'm sorry now that I ever did it. And I think for you, loving me meant having to let go of how much I'd hurt you."

"That was easy," he said without the slightest hesitation. "I think I've always loved you, one way or another, so anything I had to do to let it be more than just a fantasy wasn't difficult. Owning up to things I'd done wrong wasn't quite so easy, but that was a very small price to pay, for you."

He was so sincere, she couldn't help but smile even more brightly, and leaned forward to kiss him. This time, he wasn't afraid to accept her touch, or to respond to it. Over the past months as they'd become more comfortable with each other and their feelings, he had been a very eager and willing pupil in anything that made them mutually happy and helped to define and solidify their relationship. As he had begun to learn the benefits of positive feedback from the people of the city, he had also learned the even more pleasant benefits of learning how to love and be loved.

Megamind had been starved for affection his whole life, and after a long string of failed relationships, Roxanne had a surfeit of stored up feelings that she was more than happy to share with a man who adored her for who she was, as she was. She reveled in the way he returned her expressions of that love with a remarkable mix of awed gentility and fierce protectiveness, and she hoped that nobody ever made the mistake of arousing his anger or his jealousy on her behalf. It was enough now to kiss and be kissed, to touch and be touched, and allow whatever came next to flow naturally from it. Roxanne had never been one of those women who felt a man wasn't a man unless he was out in public proving it on her behalf with shows of strength; that was one of the many reasons she'd always preferred brain over brawn. Jocks who showed off their physical prowess to win a girl couldn't hold a candle to a skinny geek who was smart enough to perceive what that girl really wanted and needed, and simply offer it to her in the ways she liked best. And as Megamind was very, very smart, he was also very, very good at doing just that, a growing skill which he amply demonstrated right now.

When they finally came up for air, Roxanne noticed that they had somehow shifted position without her noticing it — not surprising, since the slender alien was so nimble, he could move quickly before she was even able to register the change. In this case she liked that change very much, as he had pivoted to bring both his legs up onto the couch with his back against one well-padded arm. She was now leaning against and atop him with both his arms wrapped around her, an embrace that radiated profound gratitude along with desire and affection. She sighed softly as she rested her head against his chest, smiling to herself at the thought of how wrong the office gossips were when they speculated that physical contact with Megamind had to be about as uncomfortable and unpleasant as full body contact with a skeleton. If only they knew — but Roxanne wasn't about to tell them, nor was she ever going to let them find out for themselves. For the moment, she was glad to feel him more relaxed, though there was still a hint of tension in him that had nothing to do with passion.

"Feeling better?" she asked lightly, not prodding for anything more than he was willing to give.

"Yes," he said simply, and she knew he meant it. That was something she'd learned the hard and painful way: the fewer the words, the deeper his feelings. Not that he was insincere when he said more, but often, it was his briefest responses that held the greatest depth of feeling. Anything more was just average icing on the perfect cake — sweet, but not always an improvement on an already good thing. "Thank you," he added, softly kissing the top of her head where it rested near his chin.

He said nothing for a moment or three, and Roxanne could tell he was still thinking. "And...?" she prompted, an invitation to vent or simply talk, if he wished.

A few moments more slipped by. At length, Megamind sighed. "I just don't understand these people. How can anyone who says they believe in a Supreme Being look at the universe in all its beautiful complexity and think for one moment that the same Being could be so petty as to bother with making anything wrong by its very nature? Even things that seem unpleasant in the natural world serve a purpose in the greater scheme of things. But to create something deliberately flawed...! Why would anyone do that?"

"They wouldn't," Roxanne opined, "not if they really are a Supreme Being. That's just another one of those things religious fanatics do to make themselves feel that everything they do is justified. Just think about it a second: That church building was condemned and locked up last year because it was found to be unsafe; old and poor construction made it a hazard to its whole neighborhood, not just to the people inside it. The only reason it wasn't already torn down was because funding shortages in that district delayed it. But these people were there, holding a meeting in a building they'd had to break into just to use, insisting that they had the right because it was their church — never mind that they'd been already been paid by the city when it was condemned, and their congregation had relocated to a new site only a couple of miles away. What were they doing there in the first place? Why couldn't they hold their meeting in their new church? And who was stupid enough to try starting up a furnace that was probably older and leakier than some of the shipwrecks at the bottom of Lake Michigan?"

Megamind considered these points, his curiosity piqued. "I don't know," he admitted. "Unless the authorities ask for my help, I usually leave the investigations and follow-up to them. I didn't know that the place had been condemned until I saw one of the signs the city had posted on it in the wreckage." He blinked as a connection was made. "That's when they started to preach at me, when I asked why they'd been in a condemned building. I wasn't accusing them of anything; I was just wondering if maybe they didn't know because the signs hadn't been properly posted. That's why they jumped down my throat, isn't it? Because they'd been doing something they knew was wrong, and didn't want to accept the blame."

Roxanne lifted her head to kiss his chin even as she snuggled up against him a bit more closely. "You're learning, sweetie," she congratulated. "I think you've hit it right on the money. The church they belong to is one of those more extreme fundamentalist types to begin with, and I've got a feeling this particular group is so far out on the lunatic fringe, their own church doesn't let them hold their hate-mongering meetings on the church grounds. They wouldn't want to risk getting their whole congregation tarred with the same brush if this bunch ever tries something that gets pegged as a hate crime. This group has probably been slinking out to the old site ever since they were refused a place to meet in the new one. You just happened to be a very convenient target for them to use to dump their feelings of guilt and anger. I'm sorry you had to be hurt like that, without anyone around to defend you."

"Actually, there was, though not at first," he said, enjoying her reassuring presence as well as the feel and the fragrance of her hair against his cheek. "I had to escort some of the emergency personnel out to the site, to take care of the injured while the lift bridge was being repaired. Some of the more vocal 'victims' started in on me again when they saw the brainbots bringing in the EMTs and their equipment, said that I had constructed a legion of false angels to act as my unholy servants to inflict evil on the innocent. Three of the paramedics and two site investigators heard them, and told them off in no uncertain terms. It was good of them to defend me, but I guess I was stinging a little too badly for it to make up for the damage that had already been done."

He lifted her chin and lowered his head to kiss her very tenderly and very thoroughly. He'd gotten exceptionally good at this, though he often started so uncertain and shy: the fact that he'd taken the initiative this time made Roxanne's toes curl and the rest of her melt into a veritable puddle of contentment. "Thank you for finishing the damage control," he whispered when he'd adequately offered his wordless gratitude.

"You're welcome," she sighed, happy to have been of help. "So, no more thinking that you're a monster without a soul?"

"No more," he promised. "Though I still don't understand how people who claim to believe in a God can be so narrow-minded and cruel. Why would any being capable of such incredible and infinite creativity bother with deliberately creating anything wrong?"

Roxanne looked up at him, surprised both by his words and the indescribable look on his face. "Are you saying you do believe in God?"

He shrugged, his cheeks tinting lavender. "In a way, I suppose. Not in the way of any religion I've ever heard of, though. You have to understand, I'm an inventor, I've been inventing and creating things for almost as long as I can remember. All of the universe is a kind of ultimate invention, a constant, ongoing process of creation — and destruction, yes, old things sometimes have to be taken apart to provide the means of creating new ones. Sooner or later, anyone creative has to ask themselves the question: what created me? Not the physical body, but the unique spark that makes me singular, the only one of my kind in all of creation. Who designed it, and why? I've asked myself that question a lot, over the years. Sometimes it makes me angry, makes me want to reject the notion of any kind of guiding intelligence because I've been hurt so much. But most of the time, it just makes me curious. When I look out at the stars and remember all that I saw before I came to Earth, when I see things here that are incredibly beautiful, I can't help but hope that there really is an ultimate intelligence designing it all — and that someday, I might have a chance to meet it, to see it at work. It's kind of awe-inspiring, when you think about the possibilities."

Roxanne suddenly felt as if the whole world that had been unfocused had in an instant become crystal clear. The words that sprang into her mind murmured from her lips. "Some men see things as they are and ask why. Others dream things that never were and ask why not."

When Megamind gave her a puzzled look, she explained. "It's something a playwright wrote a long time ago, that was quoted by a young and inspiring politician who was assassinated in the 1960s. It's what you've been talking about. Those people who harassed you today were pretending they have all the answers, but they're really clueless, going around asking why and getting angry at others when they don't like the answers. You look out at the same universe, you see things they can't even imagine, and you ask why not. That's incredible, especially after everything you've had to put up with since you came to Earth. And that might be part of the problem, with some people. If they were in your place, they couldn't imagine being anything but furious with everyone and everything; they'd've been out trying to destroy the whole world just to get revenge for the acts of a comparative few. They couldn't forgive, so they can't believe you would, either."

He snorted softly. "And people call me an egomaniac!"

Roxanne's smile was sympathetic. "Well, you did have that market kind of cornered for a while,"she teased. "But I don't think even you ever lived quite so much in your own head, not even with all the extra real estate you've got in that department. Even if you weren't really just trying to compensate for having had your ego bashed pretty badly when you were a child, a big ego with a big heart is acceptable. A big ego with no heart — that's a real villain, and trust me, you never made the cut. No offense."

For a second or two, the ex-villain put on a show of indignation, which disappeared a second later like a puff of smoke in a gale. "None taken. At least I had the brains to leave that behind when I had a chance for something better." His arms tightened around her, and she could feel his smile when he nuzzled her hair.

She sighed happily. "So, will you eat your supper now, like a good little superhero?"

"Can I have an extra helping of dessert?"

"Only if you finish your supper first and beat me to it."

He laughed, a toned down version of his evil cackle that came out as deliciously mischievous. "Just watch me."

"No swallowing your food whole."

"Spoilsport."

"Hey, I'm just trying to take care of you. With that neck, you could choke to death."

He huffed. "Oh, all right, I won't cheat. Maybe we can just share."

"That's a good idea."

A moment of companionable quiet followed the bargaining process. "So, what brings you here tonight?" Megamind asked at last. "Not that I'm complaining, but I thought you were catching up on some neglected housework all this week."

Roxanne chuckled. "I'd planned to, but when I came home yesterday, I found everything taken care of. I think there was someone eavesdropping when I called Tuesday night and wound up venting at you about how having the anchor out sick at the station was upping my workload and making it impossible to get anything done at home."

"Minion?"

"No, Pinky. There were some telltale signs, like how every bottle and tube in the bathroom was arranged by color, size, and product type. You know she'd follow me everywhere like a puppy if you let her."

"Do you want me to?" was the earnest question.

But Roxanne shook her head. "No, please don't. I like her, really, she's sweet for a bot, but if she got bored at my place, she'd probably start 'helping' all my neighbors, and they're still adjusting to the idea of you coming around without mayhem and kidnapping in your wake. If you really want to let her do things for me, it'd be enough if she came by once a week. That'd be a big help, and not long enough for her to get bored and start looking for extra little things to do."

Megamind thought it an acceptable compromise, and something more occurred to him. "Oh, speaking of Pinky, she found your iPod in the library after you were here last weekend. If I'd known she was going to pay you a surprise visit, I'd've sent it with her."

"I was wondering what happened to it. I thought I'd left it in the news van and someone walked off with it." She smiled to herself, remembering Minion's remark about his boss's playlists. "Did you check it out?" she asked ever so casually.

She thought she could feel Megamind's flushed reaction via an increase in his body temperature. "Well, I looked at it, yes. Minion has one just like it, and I thought it might be his."

"Uh-huh. And you didn't look at any of the playlists or albums?"

He cleared his throat. "Yes, I didn't know how else to tell whose it was. You two don't have the same tastes in music."

"Hmm, and neither do we, not entirely. Did you listen to any of it?"

Oh, yes, he was definitely blushing; she could feel the heat radiating from the cheek against her hair. He coughed. "Ah... well... yes, a little. I was curious about some of the things you seemed to like a lot. Is that an... introozeeon?"

She smiled as she turned to look at him directly, making it clear that she had no wish for him to let her go. "No, I'm okay with it, so long as you don't start complaining about my taste. I like a lot of the same things you do, but I also like to give my eardrums a break once in a while, and sometimes, I just enjoy quieter stuff. Don't you?"

The alien shrugged unconvincingly. "Sometimes. So you aren't offended?"

She shook her head. "No, I think it's good if we get to know these things about each other, too. Did you hear anything you liked?"

Megamind hemmed and hawed for the better part of a full minute. "A couple of things, yes," he finally confessed. He hesitated again, then forged ahead. "There was one song — from the play count, you seem to listen to it a lot, and I was... sort of wondering why."

"Which song?"

He blinked. "Ah — I don't know."

Roxanne was startled, knowing what she did about his memory. "You forgot? I thought you can't forget."

His expression turned sheepish. "You can if you never know. I never looked at the title, I just had the thing play your favorites." Careful to not disturb Roxanne from her comfortable position, he reached for a remote on the coffee table, snagged it by his fingertips, and deftly flipped it into his hand.

The reporter applauded. "Nice move."

Megamind smirked. "What can I say, I'm good with my hands."

"Can't argue with that," she agreed.

With his thumb alone, the ex-villain pressed a number of buttons with such quick accuracy, Roxanne was a mite envious. Darn ambidextrous aliens. She forgot her envy as music came from the room's sound system — a piano and, appropriately enough, a solo violin, joined a few beats later by other strings, then a clear, low tenor voice.

Through the darkness,
I can see your light.
And you will always shine,
And I can feel your heart in mine.
Your face I've memorized,
I idolize just you.

I look up to everything you are;
In my eyes you do no wrong.
I've loved you for so long,
And after all is said and done,
You're still you;
After all, you're still you.

Roxanne sighed, and not just because she loved Josh Groban's voice, which she admittedly did. "Ah. That song. You're right, I guess I have listened to it a lot, especially these past few months. It — just seems to say so much. I'm not exactly sure how to explain..."

She was surprised when Megamind shook his head. "You don't have to, I think I understand. I was just really surprised by it, the first time I heard it. I am capable of appreciating things other than hard rock, you know. But the words to this, they made me think, of me, of you, of — us." He said it with a wide-eyed sort of astonishment.

Roxanne nodded, in full agreement. "That's exactly what I thought. I liked the song when I first heard it a few years ago, but lately, it just seemed to... fit, perfectly, the way things have been going, the way they've been. I didn't expect that you'd feel the same way, though." Her laughter was aimed mostly at herself. "I should know better than to try to anticipate you, these days. You're certainly making up for lost time after so many years of predictability."

He chuckled. "Thank you, I've been trying."

"Hmm, you mean you were trying. Nowadays, you're succeeding." She raised her head and kissed him softly, a pleasant sort of reward for success on so many fronts. "Can you start the song over? I'd like to listen to it with you, without the discussion."

Megamind happily complied, thumbing the replay button on the remote before tossing it back onto the table. And as the music began again, they listened together, with more than mere discussion.

In the kitchen, Minion heard when the music began to play in the living room, and he hummed along as he listened. Ah, so Sir had owned up to poking his nose into the contents of Ms Ritchi's iPod. Good, that made him feel more justified and a bit less guilty about his promise to show her the boss's. He'd liked this song for a long time, but until earlier in the week, he'd never thought he'd hear it being played anywhere in the Lair, except in the privacy of his own iPod. And as he listened to the song begin again, he decided that the reheated dinner, which was just about ready, could wait another ten or fifteen minutes before being served. He was not only sure that the boss wouldn't mind, Minion knew he'd actually appreciate the delay.

And I've believed in you,
Although you never asked me to.
I will remember you,
And what life put you through.

And in this cruel and lonely world,
I've found one love:
You're still you.
After all, you're still you.

Note: The lyrics are from Josh Groban's "You're Still You" (can be found on YouTube) — maybe not Megamind's usual kind of song, but definitely something I can imagine Roxanne going for. My, what a voice that young man has... More parts to follow!