Bail

Ninnik Nishukan

He hasn't gone three steps into her living room before he spins around.

"Uhm, I forgot— be right back—" he mumbles as he ducks out on the balcony.

Irritation flares up in her. Is he chickening out on her, after all?

She's distracted, however, by the sound of two loud blips, as if from a car remote. Then he pops back inside, looking sheepish. "I just had to turn on the cloaking device on the hover bike. I don't want the neighbours to notice it…uh, hovering out there."

Roxanne thinks at least one or two neighbours might've noticed already, but she doesn't bother commenting on it. He's here, he's inside. They have more important things to discuss. She does, however, take the time to close the curtains in front of the balcony door and her large living room windows.

"Do you want to sit down?" she offers briskly, walking towards the couch and expecting him to follow.

When she glances back at him for an answer, he actually jumps a little. If she wasn't feeling so irked, this reaction would be almost fascinating to watch. It's not like she's never seen him nervous before, but this is a whole other level. "Uh…no, thanks. I think I'll just…stand."

"Good, me neither." She turns around again, and starts pacing. She said she wanted to yell, but suddenly there are so many things writhing around inside her, threatening to spill out, that she has the sudden need for…if not exactly calm, then at least some semblance of control.

She clears her throat. "Do you know how many times I've had to go to work with a headache, or feeling nauseous, or with my neck, back and shoulders in agony, because you guys overdid it with the knock-out spray or tied me up uncomfortably or I was tossed around in some giant robot you guys lost control over?"

"But you always look perfectly fine on television?" Megamind sounds earnestly surprised.

Roxanne scoffs. "I have to. It's called being a professional. We don't have the luxury of letting a bad day show up on camera. You'd be surprised at how many times local reporters are nursing hangovers, but you'd never know it unless you're in the biz."

"Oh."

"Why did you guys keep feeling the need to knock me out all the time, anyway?" As this new point comes to mind, she can feel herself scowling at him. "I mean, Metro Man always found your hideouts and lairs, and for long periods of time, you'd often just keep using the same ones, so what was the point? It wasn't as if it was a secret location, and you needed to stop me from seeing where I was being taken to."

"It's an evil kidnapping. It's just…what you do. It's a style," he argues, gesturing imploringly, both palms up. "And it wasn't only about secrecy. You wouldn't have followed us willingly, so we had to incapacitate you."

"Did you ever even think to ask?" Her voice hasn't quite reached the volume she expected for this venting session, but it has certainly gained the sharpness. "I knew what the drill was, and we'd been doing it for so long, so I probably would have cooperated— especially given the choice of that and getting sprayed in the face and having a dirty bag shoved over my head!"

He gives her a look of sulky defiance. "Well…that wouldn't have been very evil, would it?"

"No, as we've already established, taking away somebody's freedom of choice would've been evil."

"No," he echoes in agreement, having the good grace to look shame-faced for a moment.

"The thing is that everything was your deal. You and Metro Man and Minion. I was the only one who didn't get a say in things. The only choices I had was what outfit to wear and how to insult you. Other than that, I was literally tied up." Frustration rings clear in every syllable now, and she hopes he understands the feelings behind it; that he isn't privately using that big brain of his to plot his escape from the conversation. "You and Minion got to plan everything, and Metro Man got to fight you and figure out how to defeat you. You challenged each other and you obviously enjoyed it. Me, I was just the bait. Just the audience. It's not a great feeling, having so little control over what happens to you."

He looks thunderstruck. "No…no, you're right. It's not. And sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands and...bust out. No, I get it."

Again, she wonders about his childhood, about prison life in general, about what kind of agency he's had in the past— but she's already decided that it will have to be a conversation for another time. She won't forget to ask.

Then his brow furrows. "Hang on, you're…do my ears deceive me, or are you in fact angry at Metro Mahn?"

Roxanne raises an eyebrow. "You mean I shouldn't be?"

"But he's the hero," he objects weakly, sounding as if somebody's just told him that he, Megamind, has somehow become the most popular new mayoral candidate Metro City's seen in years.

"That doesn't mean he never does anything wrong."

"It doesn't?" More flabbergasting news, it seems.

"Think about it," she says, putting her hand on her hip. "I was the one being tied to the chair, again and again. If he's so unselfish, you'd think he'd have stopped once or twice and asked me how I was doing, if I wanted him to put a stop to it all. Because he could have stopped everything, if he'd wanted to. I was never even asked, that's the point. I mean, usually when people are abducted and held against their will, they end up pretty traumatized, so…"

His mouth drops open. "Miss Ritchi, I— I didn't—"

"Relax, Megamind. I'm not traumatized," she reassures him flatly; then she rolls her eyes. "At least I don't think so. It would've just been nice to have been asked, really. And I guess that was technically his job, not yours."

Megamind nods wretchedly. "Right…as your boyfriend, it's his job to take care of you."

Roxanne refrains from commenting. She's never actually told anybody she and Metro Man are dating; they all just made assumptions. Even though she hardly thinks he'd throw himself at her or anything, and even though she's still not entirely sure he's interested, there remains the fact that she has never before talked to a Megamind who thinks she's single and available. Meaning she doesn't know what to expect.

Considering they're alone in her private home, and considering she's already had to deal with Hal creeping on her for years, she feels she has every right to use the fake relationship with Metro Man as protection right now. Has every right to feel comfortable and safe. It isn't that she fears him, but she isn't ready to deal with whatever feelings he may or may not have for her. There's so much else to work through.

Closing her eyes for a few seconds of peace, she runs a calming hand through her short locks. "I think I'm done yelling for tonight. Talking at you. Whatever."

"Ah." His eyes dart uneasily towards the balcony door. "Um…so I guess you want me to leave?"

"Not yet. Look, it's just…I don't even know what to say or feel anymore. I'm so angry, but I'm also just…so confused. Because I'm thinking…maybe I'm really the most angry at myself." Her fingers come to rest below her throat for a moment, before she gestures her hand at him. "I mean, look how easy it was to get you to release me. Does that mean it's also my own fault, for not speaking up sooner?"

He frowns, as if he's never even considered this. Or maybe he's just surprised at being asked for his opinion on the matter. "Oh, I'm not so sure about that. After all, I am evil. Why would it ever occur to you that I'd let you go, just like that? Why would you ever think to ask?"

"Yeah, but I wasn't afraid of you, not really, so I should've—"

Megamind pouts. "Yes, well, we're all aware of how supremely unimpressive and unscary you think I am, but even so— you knew I was a super villain who played by super villain rules, and those don't include letting your hostage go simply because she says pretty please. So how would you know to ask?"

"I guess you're right, but…I did ask, didn't I? It just took me a long damn time." A long, distressed furrow is digging itself into the space between her eyebrows. "It's like I wasn't thinking, not consciously, until maybe the last year or so. I knew I was feeling restless and uncomfortable, but that was kind of all I knew."

"You did try to escape last year," he reminds her.

She shakes her head at herself. "I did! So maybe I should've realized sooner that I didn't want to be there anymore. Maybe I should've taken that as a sign."

"That was fun, by the way." His eyes have lit up, underlined by a mischievous grin. "When you tried to escape. It ruined my carefully and not to mention brilliantly laid plans for the day, of course, but it was kind of exciting. You changed the routine."

A grin plays across her lips, in answer to his, but she loses it quickly.

"The point is, though, that I didn't examine my feelings properly. I just kind of…let things slide." Sighing, she rubs her forehead. "Got stuck in a groove. Maybe you're not the only creature of habit, huh?"

His grin all gone now, too, he pauses to consider things. "Well…you did ask me to wash the bag many times, and to cut down on the spray, and not to kidnap you on Sundays, and lots of other things…but I never listened, did I? So I suppose maybe…part of you told yourself it was hopeless. That I wouldn't listen, anyway."

He might have a point. Sometimes, Megamind and Metro Man's game would remind her a little of Hal without the creepy. Ironically enough, the hostage situations had rarely or never made her feel the pressure or the vague, but uncomfortable threatening vibe she got from Hal.

The common thread between the game of Good vs. Evil and Hal's behavior towards her, however, was the overwhelming feeling of getting an enormous amount of attention while simultaneously not really being listened to. Once in a while, she might experience something similar when meeting her fans. And it wasn't just Megamind. How many times did Metro Man ignore her responses if he expected her to be in a panic or be afraid, and she wasn't? Just because it didn't fit into the superhero script?

She shrugs. "Maybe that was it. I guess we'll never know." Just like she'll never quite know if she actually did have fun sometimes, or if being amused was more of a coping method. If she's honest with herself, though, she does believe the former option, rather than the latter. Sometimes, she kinda liked it.

"I'm sorry about not listening to you about those things," he says, meeting her eyes briefly before looking away. "They're…uh, they're on the list. Minion did wash the bag a few times, though, whenever he remembered to. It was just easy to get distracted sometimes, I guess." He gives a helpless shrug, shakes his head. "When we weren't locked up in prison, there was always so much to do. Evil plotting, evil engineering, gathering material for our latest scheme, routine maintenance of the lair, the brainbots and Minion's suit, grocery shopping…"

Roxanne sighs. "I know. There's always so much to do. Having a high stress job is one of the reasons I don't go out much, for example, or own a pet. It's not just because of you guys. But that's why the supervillain game got to be too much for me in the end, because it was slapped on top of an already full weekly schedule."

He hangs his head. "Still…sorry."

For a long moment, she can only stare at him. "You do know, though, don't you? How extraordinary this is? You, coming to me, apologizing?"

Megamind looks up, eyes wide. "Is it?"

Roxanne nods. "It is. You didn't have to do it. Not at all. I know I didn't expect it, at least."

"Uh, it just…seemed like the right thing to do?"

"See, that's the thing." She tilts her head at him. "Evil people don't say stuff like that."

He grimaces. "I know, I know— don't tell anybody!"

"Don't tell anybody what?" She can't stop the little smile from breaking out on her face. "That you're not actually very evil? That you're a terrible supervillain?"

"Don't say that," he objects, suddenly looking crestfallen. "Being bad is the only thing I know how to do! You've already convinced me to stop being actively evil on a regular basis— are you going to try to strip me of my title, too?"

Frowning, she studies his face again. His chest is heaving with emotion, but his expression seems frozen now. Apparently, he expected her to argue, and has no idea how to respond to her silence.

At times in the last two months, she has wondered how he was adjusting to his new life, post-kidnappings, but mostly, she was simply too busy living her new life. Now, here he is, clearly not adjusting too well.

Finally, she figures it out. Finds the words to ask. "Is that how you feel? Like I've…evicted you from your old life?"

Biting his lip, he frowns down at his black leather boots. "…yes."

"But did you really like it all that much?" That one she's honestly curious about. She gets the feeling she shouldn't be pushing too much, though, so she keeps her tone even; makes sure it doesn't sound harsh.

His voice comes out tight, odd. "It was perfectly fine."

"At least as long as you didn't examine it too closely, right?"

Now he looks at her, even if reluctantly. "It was the only life I had," he says helplessly.

She thinks she knows how he feels, at least kind of. Even though she had the resources of a job, friends and family to fall back on, to help ground her…the first week or so out of the game felt…weird. Itchy. And the first time she had to write a big news piece after, it was as if she had to teach herself to write and speak again. Unlearn the language of their specific brand of heroics and villainy. Of course, she always had to cover other things in between, but Metro Man and Megamind monopolized most of her time.

Now, how much would Megamind need to unlearn?

Roxanne stands up. "I'm gonna make some tea. You want some?"

Megamind arms fall to his sides, disorientation reanimating his face. "Tea?"

"Mmm," she confirms breezily, trying to pretend she isn't aware of how groundbreaking the offer is for them. How much it resembles some sort of decision, a direction taken. "It's a little late for coffee, but I could still make you a cup if you want. If you don't like tea."

"No, that's— tea. From you. For me." The way he talks, the way he stares, tells her his mind is far away, trying to make sense of things. She knows the feeling. "Sure. I guess I could try some tea, for once."

"Why don't you sit down?" she suggests again, her voice going soft for the first time that evening. She resists the impulse to add before you fall down.

Megamind drops heavily down on the couch, his back rigid and his eyes unseeing. Lost. She can tell he won't respond intelligently if she asks him whether he takes milk or sugar, so she doesn't.

When she returns a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of peppermint tea, he's got one of her red couch cushions clutched tightly under one arm, the other hand holding a long, slightly wrinkled piece of paper up to his face.

He stops scanning the paper when she puts one of the mugs down on the coffee table in front of him. "Uh, here's the list, by the way," he explains without her asking, holding it up to her. "You don't have to read it now, but…there it is."

Accepting the paper, she puts her own cup down before sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. Her curiosity overwhelming her, she starts reading the list straight away. When she shakes it, it folds out like some kind of long, narrow road map. And it's strange, seeing the last ten years of her kidnapping victim career meticulously documented like this. Every item has been numbered. Some items have sub-categories. It makes her wonder exactly how much free time he's had lately, after quitting his regular gig.

He's got nice, neat handwriting, she notes absentmindedly. Every once in a while, the pattern is broken by a bigger, blockier scrawl that must be Minion's.

Roxanne grins a bit as she comes across his apology for ruining her expensive, new hairdo during the robo-sheep spectacle a couple of years ago.

Meanwhile, Megamind has started experimenting with the new, unfamiliar beverage. She can still feel his apprehensive eyes on her occasionally, as she keeps reading, but at least he seems partly distracted.

"This tastes like toothpaste," he remarks, sticking his tongue out. Yet he takes another sip. Then another; this one larger. Then he blinks. "Oh, toothpaste— I forgot— have you been to the dentist yet, by the way?"

Lowering the list, she frowns at him. "The dentist?"

"Yes, remember? You said I'd made you miss your last two appointments?"

"Right." She ventures a small, quick smile at the concern, deciding to finish the list later. She likes it when people pay actual attention to what she says, and figures she should extend the same courtesy to him. "Yes, don't worry, I've been to the dentist now," she says, folding the list in half to push it carefully to the next couch seat over. Then she picks up her own cup.

He nods firmly. "Good. Did you know you can die from an infected tooth, if it gets in your bloodstream and reaches your heart?"

Her eyes go wide, and she stops in mid-sip, lowering her cup. "Alright, alright, no need to get dramatic—"

"Miss Ritchi, do you floss regularly?"

Roxanne swears she nearly dropped her tea cup, then. "Ohhh-kay, that's— that's enough now!"

Megamind looks like a kicked puppy. "What did I do?"

"What did you do?" She puts her cup down on the coffee table with a dull thump. "You went from threatening my life with weird torture devices and alligators on a regular basis, to— to checking if I floss every day like a good girl so I won't die of a tooth infection! Who are you, my dentist all of a sudden? My mom?"

He throws his hands up. "Oh, come on, you know all those torture devices were just for show!"

She just stares at him.

His hands come back down, slowly. "…don't you?"

Sitting back down, Roxanne releases a tired breath. "Yeah, I guess I do know. I've known for a long time. It's just…this is all a little much."

When she doesn't elaborate, he apparently feels forced to fill the silence. "The automatic machine guns didn't even have bullets in them. Well, they did have blanks at first, but I thought, even that might be a risk, so—"

"The alligators had teeth in them, though," she interjects dryly.

He pouts. "They're really quite nice, once you get to know them."

"Nice, huh?" She rolls her eyes. "I'm just afraid I'll uncover more layers of weird once I get to know you."

Now his eyes seem suddenly glassy. "Well, well, well, Miss Ritchi…" His breath actually hitches, then. "Aren't you just being…a big meanie again, hmm? Are you sure you're not still trying out for Evil Queen?"

She groans. Apparently, she's already forgotten her own resolve to give him a little slack about any social faux pas for now, what with his questionable upbringing. "I'm sorry. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. It's just…a little too much. It's gonna take a while to adjust to…to our new roles, whatever they may be. Right? I just don't really know what to think about all this. For one thing, I mean— Evil Queen? Really? You're still going on about that? Because it should be pretty clear by now that any guy who's gonna be with me needs to be a…I dunno, a Good King, I guess? Okay, so that's a…really dumb name, but you get the idea. I'm not a criminal, and I don't wanna be one."

Megamind's shoulders slump. "Of course. Metro Mahn. The…Good King. Just another one of his many nauseating titles."

"Right." Roxanne closes her eyes for a moment, blocking out his misery. Her mouth still needs to stay shut about her and Metro Man, because for all she knows, Megamind might see it as an invitation to try to be her Good King or whatever. That is not something she is prepared to deal with tonight. And if he does decide to attempt to be good, she's not interested in having his only incentive being her sitting at the other end of the tunnel, like some sort of prize. He should do it because he wants to and needs to, and because it's the right thing to do.

He might need somebody to believe in him, though, and she supposes that could hypothetically be her (and in due time, she suspects it could possibly-maybe also be Metro Man). It's crazy, the idea of more or less becoming Megamind's social workers. Even imagining the amount of responsibility it would entail makes her shiver inside, but...if encouraging him towards the right direction can be done at all, then who else but them could do it? The Warden has apparently already given up on being a positive influence for him.

It's just an idea to consider. She hasn't made any promises, signed any contracts, or even discussed it seriously with anybody. While it remains locked in her mind, it's nothing but an interesting concept.

As if embarrassed, Megamind busies himself by taking a large swig of his tea. "I shouldn't have brought up the subject of Evil Queen. I didn't mean anything by it, it's just part and parcel of being evil. I'm supposed to be all…seductive." He says the last word in a deeper voice, wiggling the long, slender fingers of his left hand with half-hearted eeriness. "I guess it must be in poor taste now that we're …technically not enemies anymore, and especially since you're…already taken. I didn't mean to be creepy— not that kind of creepy, anyway—"

"Megamind," she says, her steady, serious tone bidding him to look at her, "I am more than familiar with what that kinda creepy looks like, and trust me— you are not it."

His already naturally large eyes grow larger. "Really?"

She gives her head a firm shake. "Uh-uh. Definitely not."

The look he sends her is so grateful her heart almost breaks for him.

She clears her throat. "Speaking of Metro Man, have you talked to him, too?"

And just like that, he's back to his safe, surly ways, eyes narrowing. "What for, so I can apologize to him for smudging his pristine white gloves with oil or soot from my inventions, every time he punched me or held me upside down to shake me? Or should I apologize for providing him with even more adoring fans?"

Roxanne snorts. "Hah, no, I just figured…maybe he'd want to know why you quit. Fighting you was such a big part of his life, after all. He hasn't come to you yet?"

"Oh, for sure," he says, raising his nearly empty teacup in a mockery of a toast, "Metro Mahn and I had a couple of broo-skis and watched the game together yesterday."

Her mouth twitches with suppressed laughter.

"I bet he does watch football," he continues snidely, "it certainly includes enough beefy, brainless jocks…"

She giggles at his juvenile pettiness. "Hockey. He watches hockey."

"I'm not surprised," he mutters, glaring into the dregs of his tea. Then his grim expression clears, replaced by awe. "Miss Ritchi…did you just laugh?"

She pauses. "Uh…yes? Why?"

"I don't think I've ever heard you laugh before. Not other than mockingly."

A shy grin blooms on her face. "Oh…well, it's a nice change. Not feeling the urge to mock and all."

"So, Miss Ritchi…after all those years of trying to make you scream…perhaps I should've tried making you laugh instead?" he asks, directing a warm and fond smile at her.

And to her surprise, it doesn't feel uncomfortable or too flirty, it just feels…uplifting. Her cheeks are glowing now.

They'll never know what would have happened if he did, but it's a very nice notion. At least in theory. She hopes the real thing wouldn't have included him kidnapping her and forcing her to be the one woman audience to his standup routine or something. No, she decides, that would've been too bizarre, even for him. Surely.

Holding back a laugh at the ludicrous thought of brick walls, microphones, rubber chickens and ukuleles instead of lasers, tesla coils, alligators and spikes, she grants him a warm smile in return. "You know, for your first day, you're not too bad at being good."

His smile drops. "It's…not exactly my first day."

This gives her another pause; she feels like perhaps she should've known this. Researching Megamind, Minion or Metro Man as a reporter, however, has always felt too much like snooping into the private lives of people she knew, rather than simple investigative journalism. So she hasn't done much of it.

"How so?" she asks.

Megamind flaps a dismissive hand. "I've tried being good before, when I was a child. It didn't really work out. I'm not very eager to try again."

"I think you've already tried today, though," she says, shrugging one shoulder. "And that worked out okay, didn't it?"

"It did?"

"I think so."

It appears she's momentarily thrown him for a loop, but it doesn't take long before he scoffs, shaking his head as if to clear it of the notion. "But this isn't the same. This was just…an apology. I owed you. It's not the same as being good."

"You showed me courtesy and respect, and you listened to me," she explains gently. "That's what people want, really."

"It's different when it's you. I can talk to you. You're not…society at large." His eyes narrow to slits, his eyebrows drawing together, and his shoulders hunching up. "I know I can't redeem myself in the eyes of the public, and I don't think I'd even want to. I don't owe them anything."

Roxanne decides to try another approach. "Megamind? Do you want to tell me about before, when you tried to be good? Off the record, of course. You'd have my word that nothing would wind up on the news or in the papers."

The distrustful glare— directed at some abstract concept of society currently not present in her living room— disintegrates. "What, you want me to tell you now?"

She shakes her head. "It's late. Come back next Sunday."

"Come…come back? Here?"

"Next Sunday," she repeats, nodding.

Megamind stares at her as if she's just suggested they team up to destroy Metro Man. "You're inviting me?"

"Yep."

"But I've never been invited to visit anyone before—" His cheeks and ears go a deep purplish pink, then, and he blusters, "Uh, you know, because I've always been more of a rebel and a party crasher, that's all—"

She keeps her expression carefully blank. "Of course."

Megamind clears his throat, face still flushed. "But anyway— I thought you didn't like to be bothered on Sundays?"

"Then why did you come here tonight?"

"It was the only day I knew you'd be home."

"Exactly. So come over on Sunday. It's different when it's not a kidnapping," she says, raising her eyebrows pointedly. Then she smiles. "I don't mind social visits on Sundays. Let's say…around eight?"

He nods slowly, still looking stunned. "But…don't you already have any plans? After all, it's your day off, and…Metro Mahn…"

Roxanne bites her lip; one day, it'll be inevitable to tell him the truth, but today is just…not that day. It'll only complicate things. "He's supposed to give a lecture at the Metro Man museum on Sunday, and there's some charity stuff he needs to do in the evening. So I'm free as a bird."

"Oh."

"So I'll see you then?"

Seeming to come out of his daze, he draws himself up. "What will the citizens of Metrocity say if it comes out you're harboring a wanted criminal?" he challenges. "Won't that damage your oh-so-prestigious career?"

"I'll tell them you're giving me exclusive interviews," she says calmly.

"And when those interviews aren't published? After all, you said off the record—" He shoots her a glare. "Unless, of course, you were just trying to trick me—"

"I'll tell them I'm saving them for my memoirs. Or maybe I'll tell them I'm collaborating with the Warden and Metro Man to reform you," she adds, teasing.

Throwing his head back, he lets out a single, derisive bark of laughter. "Hah! As if anybody would believe that!"

She remains unruffled. "Wouldn't they?"

This pokes a hole in his false bravado. At first, he looks baffled; then it grows into something resembling fascination. "I guess…we'll have to find out?"

She gives a curt nod. "Then I'll see you next Sunday."

He smiles, in a distracted sort of way. "I'll see you then. Thanks for…for the tea," he adds hesitantly, as if the sentence is completely foreign to him. "I'll…uh, I'll bring some donuts next time."

He's about to leave when she realizes she's got something more to say. She hurries to block his path to the balcony door. "That's great, but— Megamind?"

He stops before he bumps into her. "Yes?"

She meets his gaze with hers. "Thank you, too, for this. It's been ten very strange years, so thank you…for giving me the opportunity to finally talk some things out."

It seems her genuine gratitude has bewildered Megamind. She's had that effect on him a lot tonight. "You're welcome?"

"We probably all still need some serious therapy, but…I think I actually might feel a little better," she says, laughing softly.

His eyes appear to acquire some extra shine to them at that. "You do?"

Roxanne nods. "It wasn't all bad, it's just…I was done, you know? And I think that if it hadn't been me…then either one of you guys would have put a stop to it instead. It was just a matter of time, and a matter of who."

"Even me?"

"Yeah. Who knows? Maybe that's one of the reasons why it was easy for me to get you to let me escape. Maybe deep down, you were kind of tired of it, too, you know? So even you, I think, would have wanted something else eventually. Now you just need to figure out what that is."

"I'm…I'm trying to, Miss Ritchi," he admits, sounding almost out of breath.

Intrigued, she smiles as she steps aside to let him out on the balcony. "I look forward to hearing about it."

Perhaps next time, she muses, as she watches Megamind and the hover bike speeding off into the night, she'll give him permission to call her Roxanne. She'll just have to wait and see how she feels. Right now, all she knows is that she kinda-sorta had a good time tonight. She didn't expect to.

One day, perhaps she'll even try asking him what his real name is.

"Go to bed, Mrs. Wilkins!" Roxanne calls on her way back inside, catching a loud splutter from the elderly lady next door. Mrs. Wilkins is practically hanging out her window, trying to gawk at Roxanne.

She's glad she's the only one with a big balcony on this floor. Still, she might have to convince Megamind to think up a more discreet visitation plan next time.

The End.

Author's notes: I decided to extend the fic a bit. I agreed with some of the readers, who felt the original ending was a bit abrupt.

Roxanne's lines about Megamind being evicted from his old life, and asking if he really liked it all that much, were stolen/paraphrased from the 1997 movie As Good as it Gets.

Roxanne's nosy next door neighbor is partly inspired by the snooping old lady who lived next door to Geena Davis in Earth Girls are Easy (1988). Geena told her "good night" in much the same way that Roxanne did. The tone suggested "go away/mind your own business".