Roxanne shifted position, testing the bonds around her wrists. They held. She glanced up at her captor.

Evan was shifting from one foot to the other in the bedroom doorway, looking extremely uncomfortable in his leather pants and eyepatch. He wasn't even trying to get into the spirit of the thing.

Roxanne felt a twitch of annoyance and shoved it down. He just didn't know what he was doing, yet, that was all. Surely, if she just showed him how it was done, he'd pick it up.

She gasped in false-fright and arched her back, the motion drawing attention to her breasts. Which already looked phenomenal in the corset she'd purchased, by the way, if she did say so herself.

"Who—who are you?" she asked in a wavery voice.

Evan didn't answer, just continued shuffling his feet. That twitch of annoyance was back again, stronger this time. Honestly, how hard was it to play along? She'd humored him when he'd insisted listening to Barry Manilow in bed for the last four weeks (and really—Barry Manilow? in bed?) so now it was supposed to be her turn. It wasn't like roleplay was such a shocking kink, right? Or light bondage? But Evan had looked so scandalized when she'd suggested it, as though she'd just casually announced her decision to take up a career in supervillainy, like Megamind still occasionally told her she should.

And, okay, yes, she could see that there were maybe some strange connotations there, what with her…unusual professional life and all, which was why she'd firmly vetoed Evan's one and only, extremely tentative roleplay suggestion: that he dress up like Metro Man. She'd suggested pirate and captive as an alternative. Pirate and captive! Totally a classic! And not at all similar to what went on in her everyday life shut up stupid subconscious!

Well, okay, so the professional-kidnappee thing was only one of the reasons she'd vetoed Evan's suggestion. There were others. Like the fact that there was no way in hell that Evan had the panache to pull off a cape. And the fact that she'd always found Wayne Scott about as attractive as a toothpaste commercial. Honestly, if she'd wanted to go to bed with Metro Man, she would have, you know, gone to bed with Metro Man. The real Metro Man. Instead of wasting all that time trying to convince people that she was not dating Metro Man. That was the biggest point in Evan's favor, actually, that, after the twenty-third time she told him she wasn't with Metro Man, he finally asked her out.

Oh, who was she kidding, it was practically the only point in his favor! If he hadn't been the only one in Metro City willing to believe her, Roxanne would never have wasted so much time with such a boring, vanilla whiner who listened to Barry! Manilow! In bed!

Roxanne took a deep breath and ruthlessly repressed her excessive mental punctuation. She was starting to sound as bad as Megamind. At least this time it was only in her head and nobody could actually hear her picking up his speech patterns. She'd almost slipped and said 're-vaunge!' to someone last week. That had been close. Stupid speech pattern convergence. It was a perfectly natural social adaptation to frequent verbal interaction! Was it her fault she spent so much time with the weirdo?

She was getting sidetracked.

All right, so she'd given Evan the helpless damsel line and he hadn't responded. Time to go the fiery wench route.

"You'll never get away with this!"

Not especially creative, perhaps, but definitely easy to respond to. Roxanne could think of at least six possible ways to answer off the top of her head.

"Roxy," Evan whined, "I really don't think this is working."

That was not one of the six.

"Evan," Roxanne sighed. "What did I tell you about breaking character?"

"I'm just really not feeling this," Evan said.

Sort of, Roxanne wanted to scream, like I wasn't feeling those orgasms I faked for the last four weeks to the not-so-inspiring sounds of Manilow Sings Sinatra?

"Just give it a few minutes," Roxanne said coaxingly. "We'll just do the banter, and then if you're still not feeling it, we don't have to—"

"This eyepatch is giving me a headache," Evan complained. "And these pants chafe."

Yeah, definitely not enough panache to pull off a cape.

"So take them off, then," suggested Roxanne, attempting to sound sultry instead of simply annoyed.

"Roxy!" exclaimed Evan, looking appalled.

"Or," said Roxanne, resisting, oh, resisting, the urge to roll her eyes, "like I said, we can just start with the banter. Come on; it'll be fun! You say something like, 'you can scream all you wish; I'm afraid no one can hear you!' and then I say something like—"

"I just don't understand why this," Evan gestured vaguely around the bedroom, "is supposed to be sexy. Tying people up? Who does that?"

"Lots of people are into bondage!"

"But why?"

Roxanne sighed, not really in the mood to explain all of this yet again.

"Danger is sexy," she said bluntly. "It's why lots of people go to see scary movies on dates."

"I don't like scary movies!"

"It's also," Roxanne said, trying in vain to hold on to any semblance of arousal, "a whole trust thing. I'm trusting you not to do anything I don't like."

Evan looked confused.

"I thought you said it was a danger thing."

"It's both," Roxanne said shortly. "It's a paradox. Like light, you know—both a particle and a wave?"

Evan looked more confused than ever.

God, what an idiot.

"I feel weird that you're tied up. It's like—good people don't do things like this!"

Roxanne should have suggested that she be the one doing the tying up, a thought she'd originally toyed with but then dismissed as too scary for Evan's first role-play experience. He would have made a much more convincing captive than he did pirate, what with the way he was practically clutching his chest like a victorian maiden whose virtue had just been outraged. Of course, the mere prospect that Roxanne might like to do something like that would probably have caused his fragile little brain to collapse in shock.

"That's what the safeword is for," Roxanne explained for the—no joke—fifteenth time. "Remember the safeword? If something happens that I don't feel comfortable with, I say the safeword and the scene stops. And what's the safeword, Evan?"

"Blue," said Evan.

"Yes," said Roxanne. "Very good. The safeword is blue. Primary color! Nice and easy to remember! Definitely not something that you will accidentally forget or that will naturally come up in the dialogue of the scene! So! Let's continue."

"Can't we just stop with all this silly stuff?" Evan said, whining again. "I can put us on some nice relaxing music, light some candles?"

"Relaxing music," said Roxanne flatly. "Sure. Why not."

Later, after yet another round of disappointing sex with Barry Manilow in the background, Roxanne, lying awake with Evan snoring softly beside her, decided the hell with this.

Roxanne put on her green skirt, cream colored blouse, and a pair of sensible flats and considered herself in the mirror.

There. Serious professional reporter. Perfect.

She turned to pick up her purse, then hesitated, eyes on the mirror.

And then she changed into her off-the-shoulder red dress and a pair of black heels instead.

She just broke up with her boyfriend; was entitled to show a little skin. Plus, it was a warm day!

Also, she was probably going to be kidnapped later. Megamind was predictable like that: holidays always meant a kidnapping—Christmas, Metro Man Day, Halloween, Valentine's Day, Roxanne's birthday—and she was damned if she was going to look less than her best.

She looked at her reflection again.

Much better.

Roxanne shifted position, testing the bonds around her wrists. They held. She glanced up at her captor.

Megamind was sitting in his tall-backed chair, shadows from the collar of his cape cutting sharply into the hollows beneath his cheekbones, one gloved hand stroking the glass case of a brainbot, electricity dancing underneath his fingertips.

Hell yeah, Roxanne thought, and then thought, rather more frantically, wait, what the hell?

"You can scream all you wish, Miss Ritchie," said Megamind. "I'm afraid no one can hear you."

Roxanne's brain—sort of shorted out a bit.

Did—what—he just—and she— Okay, that—that was. A weird thought. To have. About the—hands and the electricity and the long line of his throat, that narrow strip of blue skin showing between the edges of his collar what would his skin taste like if she licked it there stop it Roxanne.

And then that was a strange coincidence, with the, the banter, but that was probably just, you know, another speech pattern convergence thing! A nasty side effect of getting kidnapped too many times by the same person and listening to them monologue about their evil plans incessantly! Because there was no way, no way, that Roxanne actually thought that Megamind was sort of sexy. No way. None. No.

Probably best not to think about the way that she'd dressed up for this kidnapping like it was a date.

Oh, god, what was she doing with her face? Was she making a weird face? Had she changed her expression at all? Apparently not, because Megamind was asking Minion why Roxanne wasn't screaming and then demonstrating, himself, how a proper captive ought to be screaming could she make him scream like that would he let her tie him up and—

Stop.

"That's a little better," said Roxanne, as Megamind screamed for the second time as the brainbot he'd been holding kept its metal jaws locked tight around his wrist.

And that was better, Megamind flailing his arm frantically, looking ridiculous. Much less confusing.

"Is there some nerdy supervision website," Roxanne continued, wanting to keep up the tone of general mockery, "where you get Tesla coils and blink-y dials?"

"Actually," said Minion, from beside her, "most of it comes from an outlet store in—"

"Don't answer that!" Megamind commanded.

"—Romania," Minion stage-whispered to her.

"No! Stop!" exclaimed Megamind, sending his chair over to the two of them with the push of one black-booted foot (that was Megamind all over, never walk if you can glide, leap, dance, or fall). "She's using her nosy reporter skills on your weak-willed mind—" (was that a subtle Star Wars reference? It was, wasn't it—god, he was such a nerd), "to discover all our secrets!"

Suddenly his attention snapped back to Roxanne, his eyes fixed on her face; he leaned close to her, and wow, there went that humorous tone, gone, poof, and there went Roxanne's heartbeat, kicking up into a higher gear.

"Such—tricks," he said, voice low and intimate as he moved around her, practically murmuring in her hair, "won't work—on me."

"Please talk slower," Roxanne said back, her voice no louder than his, answering on autopilot because he was so close right there if he leaned forward just a couple of inches, he could— He leaned forward.

"Temptress," he said softly, the word brushing across her lips like the ghost of a kiss and she gasped, lips parting and—

Oh god.

Megamind leaned back, looking at her face, waiting for her to respond—what were they talking about again? Was it sex? Because Roxanne kind of felt like they were talking about sex.

An expression of confusion flickered across Megamind's face as the moment stretched and still Roxanne didn't respond. Why the hell didn't he just kiss her? Tying her up, wearing those damn outfits, whispering in her hair—the fucking tease of it all was a far worse torture than any doomsday machinery that he'd ever threatened her with. No wonder she found the kidnappings more and more frustrating every time.

"Anyway," said Megamind, moving away from her, sounding rather puzzled. "Since Miss Ritchie is speechless with fear, I think it's about time to call her boyfriend in tights."

He moved towards the main monitor of the lair, shaking the brainbot off of his arm. Minion took up a place off camera. Megamind ran his fingers along the points of his cape collar, making them curve even more dramatically. He looked at Roxanne, frowned slightly, and then glanced over at Minion and nodded sharply.

"What," said Roxanne, her voice a little rougher around the edges than it usually was, "no deathtraps this time?"

Megamind frowned again, deeper this time.

"You want—?"

"Come on, Megamind," Roxanne said, "make a girl feel special."

Megamind's mouth quirked sideways, almost into an evil smirk, but somehow less—deliberate than that.

"My dear Miss Ritchie," he said, still smiling at her, "you may have all the deathtraps your heart desires."

And he flipped every single one of the switches at once. She'd seen all of those particular death traps before (sometimes she thought she had seen every possible type of deathtrap before) , but the suddenness of it, of all of them at once, almost succeeded in making her jump, and then Megamind was nodding again at Minion to get the cameras rolling and Roxanne was back to feeling dissatisfied and irritated and turned on.

She had to be out of her mind. Even if she, admittedly, found Megamind attractive, there was no way she should be disappointed that nothing could come of it. One does not play bondage games with a supervillian, after all. That would be insane. How could she trust him?

Except, Roxanne realized, she did trust him. She was sitting tied to a chair with alligators snapping at her feet, flamethrowers and giant drills and guns pointed at her head, and she wasn't worried about getting accidentally bitten, shot, drilled, or set on fire at all because Megamind never put her chair close enough to any of his deathtraps to actually damage her and he always had the safety on.

You are an idiot she told herself. You don't even know if he's attracted to you. Besides which, you really think this crazy megalomaniacal alien is going to understand and respect the concept of safe words? Of course not. How many times had she demanded that he let her go from a kidnapping? A lot of damn times, that's how many. And how many times had he let her go? That's right, none.

Except—what was that thing Megamind and Metro Man sometimes said to each other, when things had spiraled too far out of control and they needed to take a break—oh, yes, that was it—time-out.

"Megamind," said Roxanne, and he looked over his shoulder at her, away from the screen, and Roxanne had no idea if this was even going to work, if he would listen to her the way he listened to Metro Man, if he considered her to be an equal participant in this weird game they played, but, oh, to hell with everything.

"I'm calling time-out," said Roxanne.

Megamind's eyes widened and he glanced quickly over at Minion, then raised a hand and made a cutting motion at his neck and suddenly Roxanne felt a whole lot more confident about the probability of her attraction being recipricated, because that was her take-us-off-the-air motion right there. She might have started inadvertently copying some of his speech patterns, but he was right there with her, unconsciously mimicking her gestures.

"What is it?" Megamind asked her, an honest expression of worry on his face. "What's wrong; are you hurt; are the ropes too tight?"

His hands moved rapidly over the console, and the deathtraps disappeared, floor closing over the alligators, flamethrower and drill and gun and that ridiculous boot wheel of death folding themselves back up into the walls. Megamind moved towards her, leaning over her with a concerned expression, written large across his features, like all of his expressions always were.

"I—" Roxanne said, and then stopped. She wasn't really sure how to go about this; hadn't really thought she'd get this far, actually. "Can we just—postpone this kidnapping? For another day?"

Megamind frowned at her, looking almost hurt.

"It's Metro Man day," he said.

"I know," Roxanne said, "I know that! I do! But there's just—I—there's something else that I'd rather do today!"

Megamind definitely looked hurt now, with a veneer of anger over the hurt. He stopped leaning over her and stood up fully, looking down at her coldly.

"Something else," he said, "that you'd rather do. I see. Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Miss Ritchie, but evil does not run on a sched-you-all. So, back to the—"

"With you!" Roxanne blurted out desperately. "Something else that I'd rather do with you today!"

Megamind went still for half a second, and then, in one swift motion that left Roxanne a little breathless, he stripped off his right glove and placed the palm of his hand against the side of her face.

"Wh," said Roxanne, rather unintelligibly.

"Are you ill?" he asked. "I think you might be running a fever; you're not really making sense and your face is flushed and your skin feels hot, although—I'm not really certain what the normal temperature range for human skin feels like. That's probably important; I should find that out." He shifted slightly, as if he was going to take his hand away, so Roxanne deliberately tipped her head, leaning into his touch. He took a sharp breath. "You're—ah—"

"I'm not sick," Roxanne said.

"Drugged, maybe?" Megamind asked, so softly it was almost to himself. Roxanne could feel the calluses on his palm and and on his fingertips against her cheek. "Did the spray smell odd this time? Have you eaten or drank anything unusual? Did you hit your head?" He ran his fingers through her hair, checking for bumps. Roxanne shivered.

"I broke up with my boyfriend today," she said abruptly, looking down at the floor.

Megamind froze again, then sank suddenly to his knees in front of her, so that he was looking up into her face.

"You and Metro Man broke up?" he asked incredulously. "What happened? Are you okay? What did he do? It had to be bad, for you to break up with him—"

He stood again without warning and crossed the distance to the control panel rapidly. Roxanne blinked.

"What—" she began, but Megamind was already speaking, hands moving over the keyboard, pressing buttons.

"I have a death ray; you can watch—you can give the order—you can press the button!"

"Is this another scheme to convince me to be your Evil Queen?" Roxanne asked, smiling slightly.

He looked over his shoulder at her, expression utterly serious.

"It doesn't have to be," he said. "This can just be a one-time thing. We don't even have to televise it." He gestured toward Minion, and then at the ceiling. "Full concentrated power of the sun—satellites—you know. It might actually work this time." The ceiling opened up, revealing daylight and the cityscape—and, in the distance, the shape of the abandoned observatory, which was a bit odd, considering Roxanne had sort of, until this moment, thought they were in the abandoned observatory. Megamind was still talking. "I had planned to lure him to the observatory with this clever decoy—you were supposed to recognize it and shout out our supposed location during the broadcast. That was the surprise for today, by the way, that's why the deathtraps were old—the real observatory was the big reveal—"

"That—" Roxanne's jaw had dropped a little. She closed it. He'd planned around her observational skills. The big reveal wasn't even about one-upping Metro Man; it was all about her. "That was a pretty damn good plan."

Megamind looked at her as though she'd just handed him the moon.

"Oh," he said softly, and then made a visible and only partially successful effort to pull himself together. "Yes! Well! Of course it was! And we can still play it that way if you want—the cameras can easily short out on this end just as he reaches the observatory if you want to press the button or give the order! Minion, you should probably start warming up the death ray now," he added.

Roxanne raised her eyebrows. Megamind's plots had been foiled several times before due to the fact that most of his evil machines were built with an (entirely pointless, she suspected) 'warming up' feature. But this was the first time he'd suggested warming up any of the devices ahead of their deployment.

Jesus, he really was serious about this letting her use the death ray thing, wasn't he? Was it creepy that she found that incredibly touching? He hated Metro Man, had been trying to defeat him for years, and here he was, offering her the glory of his best and most likely chance at getting rid of his loathed rival based on the assumption that Metro Man had hurt her feelings. Make a girl feel special, indeed.

Fuck creepy. That was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for her. If she disliked Wayne, she might have been slightly tempted to actually do it. But—

"It wasn't Wayne," Roxanne said, "that I broke up with. I was never with him."

"Wh—what?" asked Megamind, looking shocked, and then slightly disbelieving. "But I thought—"

"I know," said Roxanne, "everybody does! It's really irritating, actually. Because I have never dated him. Never. Not once. I don't even find him attractive. At all."

Megamind pressed the palm of his bare hand against his own cheek.

"Maybe I'm the one running a fever," he murmured to himself. "I think I might be hallucinating. Possibly I should sit down." He did, half-collapsing into his chair. "Did you hear that, Minion?" he asked. "Miss Ritchi told me I came up with a good plan! And then she said that she broke up with Metro Man—or that she never dated him—or that she finds him unattractive! Or something!"

"I heard, Sir," said Minion, sounding almost as shocked as Megamind.

"Is this reality?" Megamind asked, hand still on his cheek, eyes round.

"I don't think he's attractive," Roxanne repeated, since it seemed to bear repeating, "and I've never gone out with him. My ex-boyfriend's name is Evan."

Megamind snapped back into focus.

"Eh-vahn what?"

"What?"

"What is the last name of this Eh-vahn?"

"Er," Roxanne blinked. "Why?"

"I need a name to search for the new death-ray target," he said, as though this were a perfectly reasonable thing to say.

"What?" asked Roxanne, torn between feeling appalled and sort of wanting to laugh. "Oh, no! No, no! Don't bother wasting a death ray on Evan! He definitely isn't worth it!"

"Fine, no death-ray," said Megamind. "What's it to be, then? De-gun? Freeze ray? Shrink ray? We could—oh, I don't know!—egg his car? Give me some parameters of evil, here!"

"Death-ray to car egging," said Roxanne, feeling happier than she had in months. "You do cover a lot of ground, don't you?"

"Whatever you need," Megamind said, with heart wrenching sincerity.

"I don't—I don't need any of that," said Roxanne.

"You could be the one to foil my villainous plot today?" he asked. "You could take me to the prison yourself."

"What?" asked Roxanne, honestly thrown. "What are you talking about?"

"I thought that was maybe what you were talking about! I thought it might—I don't know! Cheer you up?"

"No," said Roxanne. "That is definitely not what I was talking about."

"But," Megamind tilted his head, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "You said you wanted to do something with me today."

"Yes," said Roxanne.

"I can't imagine what else you'd want with me," he said simply.

"Oh," said Roxanne, and very nearly lost her nerve right there and then. He looked so damn innocent, sitting there, watching her with his too-large, too-green eyes, offering her anything from death-rays to help engaging in petty vandalism to turning himself in. He was dressed from head to toe in what was practically fetish gear and he was telling her without a hint of irony that he couldn't imagine what she wanted with him.

She could just—ask him to play scrabble with her or something. He'd probably be thrilled.

"What did he do?" Megamind asked, interrupting her train of thought.

"Hmm?" she asked. "Who? Oh! Evan, you mean? Nothing, really." She bit her lip. "He was boring."

"Boring?"

"Extremely boring," she said earnestly. "He listened to Barry Manilow."

An expression of acute horror dawned on Megamind's face.

"You're kidding," he said.

"Nope," said Roxanne, grinning at the look on his face.

"The death ray really is too good for him," said Megamind with a shudder.

Roxanne laughed, throwing her head back. When she got herself under control again, she looked back at Megamind, who was grinning crookedly, biting his lip. It took him a moment to notice her gaze, though, because his eyes were on her bare shoulders, following the sweep of her neck down to the straps of her dress. He licked his lips, and then looked back at her face with a guilty expression, a slight flush on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

He always wore those high collars Roxanne thought a little dizzily. From the back of his head all across his shoulders, like if he wasn't wearing one, he'd be half-dressed or something. She'd always taken that as a personal affectation, but Megamind wasn't human (a thing Roxanne…actually had trouble remembering, sometimes, oddly enough?). It was possible that his species had some sort of neck thing, and if that's the case, then this off-the-shoulder dress Roxanne had on was probably wearing the equivalent of a white shirt and no bra.

Experimentally, Roxanne sighed, arching her neck and pushing down her shoulders. Megamind's eyes tracked the movement for a moment before snapping back to her face.

Oh, hell yes. She was good and this was happening.

"Minion, could I talk your boss alone?" Roxanne asked sweetly.

Minion, who had, if Roxanne had to guess, probably seen the whole checking-out-Roxanne's-neck deal, said, "Suuure thing, Miss Ritchie," in an extremely skeptical and definitely judgmental tone, and then made some sort of series of gestures at Megamind over Roxanne's head. She could have turned around to see what they were, but she was too preoccupied with watching the flush deepen on Megamind's face.

"Yes, yes, I understand," hissed Megamind finally, making shooing motions at Minion and the brainbot, who finally clanked and flew their way out of the room, Minion getting on the lift and going down to the main level of the Lair and the brainbot swooping down after him through the air. The door clanged shut behind them.

Megamind turned back to Roxanne, eyes fixed firmly on her face.

"I—" he said. "What did—you probably want me to untie you."

"I haven't decided yet," Roxanne said before she had a chance to psych herself out of it.

Megamind's eyebrows went up in surprise and then down in confusion.

"Are you sure you're feeling—"

"I want to try something," Roxanne said quickly.

"A—game, kind of. To see if it works."

"A game?"

"A game."

"What kind of game?"

Roxanne took a breath.

"I want you to pretend that you've kidnapped me."

Megamind blinked at her.

"But I have kidnapped you," he pointed out.

"Right," Roxanne said, "yes." Way to just point the essential fucked-up-ness of this right out, Megamind. "Okay, but. I want you to pretend you've kidnapped me and we haven't had this conversation."

"Ooookay," Megamind said, skeptical but clearly following.

"We're going to start at the beginning of the kidnapping," Roxanne said, "and we're going to keep playing until I say stop, all right?"

"Until you say stop," Megamind agreed, nodding his head.

"What are the rest of the rules of this game?"

"No calling Metro Man," Roxanne said, thinking fast. "Or Minion or the brain-bots. It's just us playing. You and me."

"Just us," Megamind confirmed. "Should I get the bag?"

"No!" Roxanne hated that bag. It smelled disgusting. "Use something else. A blindfold or something. And—" She wanted him to be close to her; didn't want him to be across the room— "No death traps."

Megamind tilted his head. "

How am I supposed to threaten you?" he asked. "It's going to be a pretty pointless kidnapping if there isn't anything to threaten you with!"

"You could, ah—use the de-gun? Like you did the, um, the first time you kidnapped me, remember?"

Roxanne certainly remembered. She'd been working as an intern at the station, filming one of his battles with Metro Man; all of the other journalists had run for shelter, but Roxanne had been determined to do better than everyone else, catch the eye of the public and earn herself an actual position at channel 8. She'd certainly caught Megamind's eye. He'd snatched her in the middle of the street, mid-battle, one arm around her waist, the other holding the gun pressed to her temple. He'd been standing behind her, so she hadn't been able to see him when he whispered in her ear you should have run when you had the chance.

God, Megamind didn't even really know what they were talking about and this was still embarrassing.

"Yes, of course I remember," Megamind said, waving a hand dismissively. "But that was a spur-of-the-moment kidnapping; it wasn't exactly a well-thought-out plan, you know."

"Neither is this," Roxanne muttered.

She was crazy, wasn't she? This was crazy. She snuck a glance at Megamind from beneath her eyelashes. He was looking at her with an expression of extreme concentration, as though she were an exceptionally complex machine he was trying to reverse-engineer. It was—yeah, it was kind of hot. Kind of. Extremely. Yes.

Crazy or not, Roxanne really wanted this to happen.

"What are the rest of the rules?"

"No more rules," Roxanne said. "Everything else is fine."

"All right," Megamind said.

"Really," Roxanne stressed. "Everything else. You can do whatever you want. Because you know that, if I don't like something, I'll just say the—I'll just say stop. The word 'stop', I mean. It has to be the actual word."

"Like a code?"

"Exactly! Yes, like a code. Or like calling time-out."

"Okay," said Megamind. "How do I win?"

"Win?"

"The game, Miss Ritchi," Megamind said. "How do I win?"

"It isn't that kind of a game."

"No death-traps, no winning." Megamind made a disgusted face. "This sounds like a rather boring game, Miss Ritchi!"

"I'll scream for you."

"You—what?" Megamind stared at her, green eyes wide.

"I'll scream. During the game."

For a moment, he just looked at her, lips slightly parted, cheeks flushing.

"I'll go get the blindfold," he said quickly, and jumped to do just that.

"Good," said Roxanne, and then added, "And lock the door!"

Megamind glanced at her curiously over one shoulder, and then moved to continue his search for the blindfold. He moved behind Roxanne; she heard the sound of a bolt sliding into place.

Holy shit. This was actually happening, wasn't it?

She could hear him pushing things aside, opening drawers, and then she heard him say, "Ah-ha!" The sound of his boot-heels on the metal floor; he was moving closer to her, moving to stand behind her.

"Please close your eyes, Miss Ritchi," she heard him say, close behind her.

Roxanne suppressed a shiver and closed her eyes. The cloth settled over her face gently; she felt him tie it behind her head, making sure not to catch any of her hair in the knot. She heard him moving again, walking away, flipping switches; she couldn't be sure through the cloth, but she thought the quality of the light changed. Skylight closing, she thought. More sounds of switches being flipped, things being moved around, and then—

Silence.

In the dark, Roxanne waited. The silence lengthened, stretched. Roxanne became aware of the sound of her own breathing: a little faster than normal? She could feel the beat of her pulse in her throat, in her wrists beneath the ropes.

Where was Megamind; what was he doing; was he just going to leave her like this?

Roxanne felt a quick flutter of panic.

Had he known all along what she was wanting? Was this some sort of cruel trick to punish her? Could she get out of these ropes if she tried?

Roxanne twisted, trying to get enough leverage to slip one of her hands free.

A mocking laugh rang out from the dark. Roxanne jerked at the sound of it, closer than she'd expected.

"No need to stop trying to free yourself on my account," Megamind's voice came to her. "Your struggles—although futile—are quite entertaining to watch."

Roxanne shivered, let herself shiver.

"Megamind," she breathed.

"Miss Ritchi," Megamind said, a curl of amusement in his voice. "It's so nice to see you again."

"Very funny," Roxanne said, allowing her voice to waver uncertainly.

"Take off the blindfold." There was a long silence, and then—

"No," said Megamind. Roxanne jumped; he was on her other side now. How had he moved so silently? She turned her face blindly towards his voice.

"Quit playing games, Megamind," she said, testing him.

He hesitated.

"Oh," he said, "but I'm having so much fun. Aren't you having fun, Miss Ritchi?" So he'd definitely understood the specificity of the safeword; that was good.

"No," she lied. "I'm not having fun, Megamind! Undo the blindfold!"

"No," Megamind said again. "I don't think I will." There was a subtly questioning note to his voice, though. Was giving her an opening?

"Take it off!" A beat of silence. "Ask me nicely," he said, "and I'll think about it."

Goddamn, but he was a natural at this.

Roxanne licked her lips and tilted her head back, arching her neck slightly (she was definitely not above playing dirty). She could hear Megamind's swift, quiet intake of breath.

"Please, Megamind," she said, "please take it off of me; I really want you to take it off of me, please." Yeah, so not above playing dirty.

"Well," said Megamind, a bit breathlessly, "since you said please."

A hand cupped the side of her face; Roxanne jolted a bit at the unexpected contact, then let herself lean a tiny bit into his hand. It was his right hand; he had put his glove back on, she was disappointed to notice. She could feel his other hand lift the blindfold away. She opened her eyes. Megamind was leaning over her, wickedly smirking face close to hers. His hand was still on her cheek. In a sudden burst of inspiration, Roxanne tilted her chin up so that his hand slid down to her throat. Megamind's mouth fell open, eyes flickering to her throat, to his hand on her throat. Before he could move it away, Roxanne screamed.

The expression on Megamind's face was well worth it.

His hand twitched, fingers curling at the back of her neck, thumb jerking over her pulse point. Roxanne, running out of breath, stopped screaming and gulped for air, swallowing and pressing up into his hand so he could feel the movement of her throat. His eyes were so large that it was impossible to miss their sudden dilation, to miss the way they flickered from her neck to her eyes to her mouth. Roxanne tilted her chin up even more in permission, but Megamind didn't appear to understand the gesture. Instead of kissing her, he blinked, glanced away from her for a moment, and then let go of her, moving a few steps back.

Roxanne wanted to scream again, this time in frustration. That had been so close.

"You won't get away with this," she snapped.

"Oh?" Megamind asked, sounding a little dazed. "Away with what?"

"Whatever you're planning to do to me," she said. "You are planning to do something to me, eventually, right?"

Megamind tossed the blindfold aside and drew his gun smoothly.

"I haven't made any plans, at the moment," he said, spinning the gun around one finger. He stopped twirling it and aimed it at her. "Isn't that what you're always wanting from me, Miss Ritchi? Unpredictability?"

"And what do you want from me, Megamind?" Roxanne asked. She dragged her eyes over him, deliberately letting her gaze linger on his hands (she always liked the gun), on his eyes (pupils still blown wide and black), on the infuriating curl of his lips, on the tantalizing line of his exposed throat. "Here I am, tied up, completely at your mercy—what is it you want from me?"

Surely that was clear enough, even for him, but, no, he just tilted his head, a considering expression on his face.

"You could scream for me again," he said, lips curving into a smile. "I liked that very much."

Damn it, how was it possible for someone so brilliant to be so oblivious?

"You want me to scream again?" Roxanne said, and lifted her chin in a challenge (incidentally calling attention to her neck again—playing dirty: it's how Roxanne rolls). "Make me."

His sudden lunge took her by surprise; Roxanne actually jumped, and then he was leaning over her again, even closer than before, one hand in her hair, tilting her head to an angle just shy of painful, the other pressing the barrel of the gun beneath her jaw.

"Oh god please," Roxanne gasped, all in a rush.

"Oooh, begging! I liked the begging, too!" Megamind said, looking delighted, looking at her neck, at her mouth.

"Please."

"Please, what?" asked Megamind, tapping the gun lightly against her skin. "You're going to have to be more specific, Miss Ritchi."

"Please, Megamind!"

He stopped tapping the gun, pressed the barrel of it beneath her jaw again.

"Not exactly what I meant by more specific, Miss Ritchi," he said, arching an eyebrow.

Roxanne shuddered, swallowed. Was he teasing her deliberately, or did he really still not know?

"Please kiss me," she said.

And—he really hadn't known; the expression of utter shock that overtook his face was proof enough of that.

"What?" he breathed.

"I said," Roxanne said, quiet and insistent, "I want you to kiss me."

He didn't move, remained perfectly still.

"Megamind—"

He kissed her.

He kissed her desperately, as though he'd been wanting it as much as she had, as though he was afraid her permission might be rescinded at any moment. He kissed her like the world was ending, hand tightening in her hair, gun pressed hard beneath her chin.

It was exactly what Roxanne wanted, right up until the point that he tore his mouth away, panting for breath.

"Don't stop," Roxanne complained, leaning forward to kiss him again.

He let go of her so fast it was like she'd set him on fire. One moment he was centimeters away from her, and the next he was gone, stumbling backwards, tripping over his cape and falling.

"What are you doing?" Roxanne asked, looking down at him, sprawled out on the floor in front of her.

"You said stop," he said, looking up at her, eyes wide and sort of wild.

"No, I said—oh," Roxanne smiled wryly. Her lips tingled. "Would you believe I actually forgot about that?"

"Forgot?" he said blankly.

"I was a little—" Roxanne bit her lip, "distracted. We need a better safeword."

"Ah?" said Megamind, looking baffled.

A sudden noise made them both jump.

"Uh, Sir," Minion rattled the door knob again. "Is everything all right? I heard screaming and the door seems to be jammed."

"We're fine, Minion!" Roxanne called, looking over at her shoulder, feeling a brief flicker of panic at the thought of Minion breaking the door down in concern and walking in on them. Although—that was irrational, wasn't it? Her tied up in a chair was pretty much business as usual for them. She looked back at Megamind, still on the floor looking gobsmacked.

"We are fine, aren't we?" she asked. He had certainly seemed into the roleplay and the kiss, but she was starting to get a little worried that she'd freaked him out or something.

"Ah?" said Megamind again, and then, leaping to his feet, said, loudly, "Oh! Yes! We're fine! Totally fine, Minion! Extremely fine! Miss Ritchi and I were just—" he looked at Roxanne, "I'm not really sure what we were doing? But it was fine! Really, really fine!"

Roxanne laughed, fondness blooming warm in her chest.

God, she actually really liked him, didn't she?

Stockholm Syndrome Stockholm Syndrome, a nasty voice in Roxanne's voice said snidely. Except—

—Megamind backing off so fast he fell over, looking up at her with guileless green eyes, you said stop—

You can watch; you can give the order; you can press the button!

If she had Stockholm Syndrome, Megamind definitely had—what was it called?—the opposite of Stockholm Syndrome—Lyme Syndrome. So it all balanced out, didn't it?

"Okay," said Minion, from behind the door, sounding even more skeptical than when she'd said she'd wanted to talk to Megamind alone.

"If the door mechanism is faulty, I should probably break it down now."

"No, no!" Megamind said frantically, "The door is fine, Minion! Leave the door!"

Roxanne stifled a snort of laughter. They really couldn't do this here. Minion was way too perceptive and nosy.

Was it weird to invite a supervillain to your apartment? Probably not weirder than springing surprise bondage and roleplaying on them. Even though surprise bondage and roleplaying was basically the foundation of all of their interactions. Just—usually with less making out.

A damsel in distress inviting her supervillain up to her apartment was probably less weird than the fact that she'd had to be the one to propose the bondage and role-play and making out.

"Megamind," she said, cutting him off in the middle of his assurances to Minion that everything was fine Minion honestly just go away and do something else now. "Would you like to come back to my apartment with me?"

Megamind stared at her for several seconds.

"Uh," he said. "Yes?"

She smiled, rather wickedly, wondering if it looked anything like his evil grin.

"Good," she said. "You can untie me now, then."

He scrambled to do so.

Minion looked deeply confused when Megamind threw open the door and raced past him, Roxanne in tow, shouting, "Miss Ritchi wants me to take her home now, Minion; I'll be back later!"

"Much later!" Roxanne called over her shoulder, laughing as she tried to keep up with Megamind.

"Much later!" Megamind yelled, and threw open the door of the invisible car.

"No, no!" Roxanne laughed, pulling on his wrist, "The hover bike, I want to take the hover bike!" Megamind's face lit up even more at that.

"Oh, yes," he breathed. "We can absolutely take the hover bike."