Disclaimer: Despicable Me is not mine, yo! :D

You know...just in case you were wondering or anything...

A/N: I just wanted to say...this was actually supposed to be the second of three parts of this story, the first part of which involved Gru accidentally discovering Margo's first bra in the wash and freaking out in the way dads do when their little girls are suddenly not so little anymore...But as much as I adored the idea, it's just not working. Maybe if I can get it to work, I'll still add it as the last chapter, but this one has been done for two weeks now, and the third part is almost complete as well...and I can't stand the wait anymore! D:

But this...I'll say that this was one of the first things to pop into my mind after watching the movie, however sick and cruel that might be. But it's already been done once on here, so I don't feel quite so strange about it! I like to call it 'Epic Character Torturing Plot Device of DOOM!'. :)

When I first wrote this, I thought it was the funniest thing ever! But now, I'm not so certain...In any case I hope that you enjoy it and maybe let me know what you think!

Oh, and last thing for reals...Sheena's mom is the one who took Margo bra shopping a good while before this part of the story without Gru's knowledge of it. Probably not that important, but I thought I'd just say...So here we go!

For what had to be the fifth time at least, Gru passed by the wall, hoping beyond hope that it would be empty this time. He'd wandered throughout the neighboring aisles for nigh half an hour by this point, pretending to browse through toothbrushes and soaps, even shampoo, until a few conspicuous, questioning glances made him realize how much more suspicious that last option made him look.

A sneak peak around the entrance of the aisle proved his wait to be nearly over. Only one more woman was present. Her arms were crossed and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she continued to scan the wall.

It was painful to watch her linger there, pulling a box every now and then, reading the back, checking the price, and then placing it back on the shelf with a shake of her dark-haired head, and it was all Gru could do to fight back the growl threatening to escape his throat. This was just ridiculous! How long could someone possibly need to get something so simple. His fingers itched to reach for the weapon hiding inside his coat, but he refrained. This was a covert operation, and the only reason it had taken this long already was from his desire not to bring attention to himself.

Instead, he took to glaring at the back of the woman's head, until—Hallelujah! It was about God forsaken time—she settled on a box, gave a resigned shrug, and pushed her cart along it's merry way. A quick look around assured Gru that nobody else was within several shopping aisles' radius of him, and with a small chuckle of glee, he triumphantly hopped over to the dreaded wall.

Finally! This was it! Operation grab-and-go-without-being-detected would be complete!

And he would still have time to try and figure out his next mission: Operation the-most-difficult-talk-in-the-universe.

Unfortunately for Gru, his victory party was cut short as soon as he extended a hand to the shelf. His vision was instantly assaulted by the infinite variety of products lined up ahead of him. There were just so many...words.

Maxi, liner, overnight, ultra thin, scented, unscented...and that was only a few of them!

To add to the confusion, there were other descriptors such as absorbency—some were even advertised to have wings, whatever that meant. It did, however, conjure up some rather confusing images for the middle-aged super villain.

It was all like some sort of secret language of womankind.

A language he could readily admit to being far from privy to.

He stared up in helpless defeat, and his eyes carried him to a product of a different design. It was smaller, more compact, less flat and more...round. Curious, he took the box, wondering if something like this might be easier to use. Turning it around in his hands, he stared at the images on the back side and read the descriptions.

According to the product's assertions, it was an excellent one. But just how did one use it?

He flipped the box from back to front several more times, taking it's design into consideration. Moments later, his eyes widened; his jaw dropped; and he felt a profound sense of horror at what exactly he was holding in his hands. There was the sound of cardboard meeting tile, and ,with a strangled cry of disgust, he sent the abhorrent product flying down the aisle. Just for good measure.

'No!' his mind screamed as he recovered from the shocking discovery. 'Definitely not!'

There was absolutely no way he could possibly take the thought of Margo using something like that! Especially not if he would have to explain to her how to use it. That she was going through this at all was already too much to bear. There was no need to make things more unpleasant. The thought made him groan inwardly.

Then he groaned outwardly.

Gru leaned back against the end cap behind him, his eyes closed, and pinched the bridge of his nose, thwarted, it seemed, by a vicious onslaught of feminine care products.

"Oh-ho," he began in a miserable tone. "Why me?"

But he knew however helpless and terrified he felt now, it could only be worse for Margo. She had really worried him that morning when she'd grabbed hold of him and insisted that he take her to the hospital.

"What? 'Ospital? Why?"

No answer. Margo just tugged more violently on his arm, trying her best to lead him to the door.

"No—Margo! Tell me what is wrong first, or we are not going anywhere!"

She responded with a few more fruitless tugs on his arm, but Gru hardly budged. She twirled around on her toes to look at him, and her wide-eyed fear was almost enough to send him out the door that instant. But he had to know what was going on.

"If we don't hurry, I'll bleed to death!" There was a tremor in her voice as she spoke. "I can't make it stop! We have to go. Now!" Then she resumed her previous efforts.

"Wh-what? Blood? Where?"

Gru took his daughter's cue and panicked. He dropped to his knees and searched her over, but try as he might, he could find nothing the matter with her. So he grasped her smaller hands in his own and looked her in the eye.

"Margo, what is going on? You look fine to me."

Her eyes darted about his face for several moments before she opened her mouth, only to close it immediately afterward. She went through the motion again, and then again, before biting her lip and looking down at the floor. He sighed, half in exasperation, half in defeat, once it was apparent she would not speak. Again, he tried to coax it out of her.

"Margo," he dragged out her name warily as he tried to catch her eye, "I cannot fix eet, eef I don't know what is wrong."

When she looked back at him, Gru was taken aback by the tears shining in her eyes. "Please," she begged weakly, "can we just go?"

Never before had he seen his oldest so upset, and if he had to be honest, the whole situation was starting to upset him as well. Surely he could find some way or another to reason with her? He sighed, patiently, and tried again.

"And if I take you dair, are you going to tell a stranger what eet is dat is wrong? Or will you tell me firs' and see if I can take care of eet?"

It clearly hadn't dawned on her that she would have to tell anyone else about what was going on, that she'd simply assumed going there would cure whatever was ailing her.

"Eez your choice," he finished with a small shrug.

Margo glanced about the kitchen as if to check that they were alone. Once satisfied, she took a steadying breath and made to whisper something in his ear. Gru leaned forward as well, relieved at last, to finally find out what was troubling her.

The mood was lost, however, when two little heathens chose that precise moment to come storming through the kitchen doorway

"Dad! Dad!" Edith exclaimed, excitement as plain in her expression as it was in her voice. She gestured about wildly with her arms. "You should see all the blood! It's everywhere! All over her bed and nightgown!"

Margo gasped in horror, and Gru growled menacingly at all his hard work undone.

"Daddy!"

Somehow, without his noticing, Agnes had found her way in between himself and Margo and yanked on his sweater's sleeve. Concern was written all over her face, and a stuffed unicorn was dragging on the floor behind her.

"Margo will be okay, won't she? She's not gonna die, is she?"

Of course, at hearing these words, the brunette's face paled and she shot another terrified glance Gru's way.

There was a word for this kind of situation, with the two younger girls talking over the other, their sentiments doing nothing more that reverting Margo back to her original panicked state. 'Chaos' wasn't quite strong enough to cover it though.

"I was all 'Hey, Margo, what's on your nightgown?', and she was all 'What are you talking about?', and then—"

"Daddy, you won't let anything bad happen to her, right? You can fix her, can't you—"

"And then—and then, she...she screamed! I dunno how you didn't hear—"

"You have to do something—"

"And she locked herself in the bathroom forever—"

"Don't let her die!"

"She even cried!"

"Daaaaadddddddyyyyyy!"

"ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, ALRIGHT, OKAY! NOW JUS' STOP IT!"

Gru's eye was twitching; his nerves were shot; and if he'd had hair, he would most assuredly be bald again. He gave himself a moment to cool off in the renewed silence before speaking again in a voice of forced calm.

"Edith, Agnes, I am trying to figure out what is going on wit' your seester. So please. Get out of de keetchen. Now."

"Awwww, but—"

"Daddy—"

"Out! Now!" He drew himself to his full height and pointed out the doorway. "Edith, I will listen to your story when I am finished here. Agnes, your seester will be fine. Now, get ou—"

"Promise?"

"Nngh!" And again came that pesky desire for hair, if only for the satisfaction of ridding himself of it. Maybe he could opt for the little girl's instead. "Yes, yes, I promise! Now just go—"

"Pinky promise?"

Gru's hand flew to his face. The collision was a bit more forceful than he intended, but he hardly noticed, really. He took a deep breath. Then another. The hand slid down his features and his eyes met Agnes', her pinky finger reached out as far as she could stretch, tip-toed and all. Unable to do much else, he appeased the young girl's ultimatum, to which she cheerily did what she was told and scuttled out of the kitchen.

Next, he aimed his stern look to Edith, whose face sported that signature pout of hers.

"What? I'm practically out the door."

And with that, she hopped up and left, without so much as a glance back.

He breathed a sigh of relief and bent over the counter, massaging his temple as he lamented briefly, "Oy...dese gorls will be de death of me."

A slight scuffle behind him reminded him how this entire stressful event had even started. Margo was staring down at the floor, her hands clasped behind her back as she traced some unknown pattern into the tile with her shoe. So uncharacteristically pathetic was the sight that his heart clenched in his chest, warding off every ounce of his previous irritation.

"I t'ink," he said gently, kneeling back down to her level and tilting her chin upward, "you were about to tell me what eet is dat has been going on dis morning."

It took a moment for her to summon up her former courage, but when she finally did lean forward and whisper in his ear, he was confused, unsure if he had heard her correctly.

Confusion turned to shock as he comprehended what was happening to his little girl.

The shock soon upgraded to terror as he comprehended what was happening to his little girl.

Then, last but not least, he outright panicked as he comprehended what was happening to his little girl.

He was certain the world was paying him back for every wicked deed he'd ever committed. And maybe giving him an advance on the ones he planned to commit.

"No—no! No, no, no, no, no," he moaned. "You are joking wit' me, right? Right?" He was begging her. "Please tell me eez a joke."

Alright. So it wasn't the most assuaging of responses to a young pre-teen who was convinced she was going to die, if the anguished look on her face told him nothing else.

"You mean it's worse than I thought?" Margo screached.

"No!" Gru backtracked, realizing the damage his words had caused. "Eez—eez jus' very—"

His hand gestured wildly for a word. Horrifying? Appalling? More than he could possibly handle? No, those wouldn't do.

"—I was jus' not expecting dis yet is all."

Or ever, really.

Wide eyes searched Gru for an explanation he didn't think he was recovered enough to give. His mind reeled at the information he'd just received, but somehow he managed to plow through his new found distress.

"Margo, you are not dying. You are fine. In fact, you are more den fine."

He gulped. What exactly was that supposed to mean?

Her cocked eyebrow asked the same question.

Feeling suddenly more awkward than he ever had in his life, Gru swallowed again and paced the length of the counter, one hand behind his back, and the other gesturing as he spoke.

"You see...Margo," he spoke slowly, weighing every word before allowing them to escape him. He was more prepared to give up his career and join the good guys than have this conversation. That was, to say, not at all. No. Even less than that. But how else was there to calm her? "You are...you are a growing girl, and, as such, eet is only normal for t'ings like this to happen. A lot, actually."

Margo stared.

Gru avoided her eye.

"Wait. So you mean that this is supposed to be happening to me?" She didn't look entirely convinced, but at least she didn't seem upset anymore.

He halted his pacing and looked at her uncertainly as he gave his answer. "...Yes."

"And that this will keep happening to me. Basically forever?"

"...Somet'ing like dat."

"..."

"..."

"Why?"

This time, Gru was the anguished one, slack-jawed and all. It was the dreaded question. The one he didn't want his girls to have an answer to. So once he'd recovered enough to think of it, he went to his old standby. He avoided it.

"Well! Firs' t'ing's firs'. I mus' fix dis. I will be back."

And in one swift movement he reached the doorway. He paused there and sent another wary glance her way.

"Until den jus'...jus' use de toilet paper to catch eet, alrigh'?"

All morning, Margo had managed not to blush, but at those words she lost the battle, her cheeks glowing more brightly than the vibrant pink of her bedroom. The last thing Gru heard before he closed the front door behind him was her flustered sputtering of his title.

"D-dad!"

"Um, can I...help you sir?"

Gru's eyes shot open at the realization of his lost cover, and he found himself looking down at one of the store's workers. 'Jenny', according to her name badge.

Embarrassed at being caught in his moment of defeat, his posture straightened, arms crossed, and he tried to pull off at least an air of confidence if not of intimidation.

"Oh, no. No, I am fine. I am not needing any assistance at all."

It sounded false, even to his own ears, and the tentative smile added to the end couldn't be helping. She looked unsure, but she didn't linger.

"Alright. Well...if you need anything, just let me know."

Satisfied that he had avoided any awkward confrontation with some random teenager, Gru returned his smug face to the wall of doom. Only to be met with instantaneous defeat. As much as he hated it, there was really only one thing he could do.

"Wait...um...Jenny?"

She swiveled around on her heal to look at him, eyebrow raised in question.

He entertained second thoughts, but a quick sidelong glance at the wall squelched them all.

"De t'ing is...eez my daughter. She jus' started her," he paused, unable to say it. "Well, you know," he said awkwardly, making a slight motion toward the wall. "But," he faced the wall again, one hand on his hip and the other atop his head, staring in confusion at the product-lined shelves, "I really 'ave no idea of what I should be getting for her. Eez...not so simple as I thought it to be. Now, I realize it must be weird for me to be asking you dis, and—"

"No, not at all, actually."

"Huh?"

Much to Gru's surprise, Jenny was smiling kindly at him, one of the packages tucked in her arms.

"I think it's pretty admirable for you to brave this part of the store for your daughter. It's a scary place for dads." She handed over the package. "Especially for the single ones. Trust me; my dad's still scarred from the experience."

"Oh? Oh, well...t'ank you."

He stared at the package of maxi pads, burning the image into his memory banks for the future.

"Um, one more question? As far as how to use dem..."

"Oh. No worries. There's instructions inside. You won't have to say a thing."

"Oh, t'ank you, t'ank you, t'ank you," he breathed, hugging the package to himself.

"And you," Gru spoke to Jenny, "you are a real life saver, you know dat?"

"Not at all," she replied with a smile, waving away the praise.

And now, finally, the easy part of his mission was over.

Gru leaned against the wall next to the bathroom door, waiting for Margo to reemerge. Their exchange had gone without significant event, though she seemed to find it difficult to look him in the eye. No where near as difficult as it would soon be for him, he was sure.

Lost in his emotional turmoil about what to do next, he didn't even hear the door open.

"Dad, you don't have to keep on with this. You've done more than enough. Thanks."

He was more than a little confused at her words.

"But...but I t'ink—I am pretty sure—dat I am now obligated to answer any and all questions you have about what is going on."

"No, Dad, I—" she hesitated, "—I called Sheena's mom a while after you left, and kinda told her about what happened—"

"You what?" Gru had to admit that it stung a little that he'd had to work so hard to get it out of her, but she'd so willingly gone to someone else. "Why would you do dat?"

"What else was I supposed to do? You'd been gone for almost an hour and wouldn't answer my question!"

They stood in awkward silence for a few moments, neither looking at the other.

"But she said...she said if you didn't feel comfortable talking about it, that...that she wouldn't mind talking to me instead. She said Sheena has it coming soon, too, so it wouldn't be a problem."

As much as he'd been dreading this talk, he couldn't help but to feel that this lady was stealing his thunder. And then it occurred to him.

"Sheena's mom...is dat de same one dat took you shopping before?"

Margo nodded, looking up at him uncertainly.

He sighed. There was really only one option, in the end.

"Geeve me her number. Eez probably best for de both of us. I am assuming you are okay wit' dis?"

"Well, yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I was jus' checking before I pawn off what was to be de most embarrassing moment of my life, dat is all."

She gave a small snort of laughter and ran off. When she returned, she held out her cell phone, the screen already set on the number labeled 'Sheena's Mom'.

"Should I be worried dat her number is so easy for you to get to? How much do you call her anyways?"

"Dad!" She rolled her eyes and shoved the phone into his hands. "Just call her already!"

"Alright, alright." Gru shooed the girl away and stared down at the phone. It seemed he was depending on other people a lot today. With one last sigh, he punched the dial button. He couldn't help but pace again as he waited for an answer.

"Margo, is everything okay?"

Such a direct answer startled him.

"Uh, no. No—sorry! I mean...dis is Gru, Margo's dad. You are...Sheena's mom, am I right?"

There was silence on the other end, and he feared that his fumbling introduction had caused her to hang up.

"Oh! Gru! Yes, yes I am. It's Maggie."

"Ah! Maggie! I will have to remember dat one for de future. Well...umm...Margo said dat she called you earlier about her...experience...dis morning?"

"...Yes. She did."

"And she might 'ave mentioned somet'ing about you being willing to talk wit' her about eet?"

Silence again. And then,

"Look, Gru, I—I hope I haven't overstepped my boundaries with Margo. I know she's not my child, and I hope my offer hasn't upset you. I just thought—"

"Oh no! No, no, no. It hasn' upset me. I was actually 'oping dat it was somet'ing you were still willing to do. I don't...I don't t'ink I could handle eet, to be honest."

"Oh—well—of course I am!"

"Dat is fantastic! Wonderful!"

And several minutes later, when he'd hung up the phone, Gru slid down the wall behind him with a sigh. Relief washed over him.

It was over! It was finally over!

Just then, Edith ran through that particular hallway, giggling madly with a stuffed animal held hostage in her grasp. No sooner had she passed by him, completely oblivious to his presence, than Agnes appeared around the corner in hot pursuit.

"Give! Him! Back!" she cried. She tripped over a rug and fell to the ground, but it did not phase the little girl. She was up in an instant and back on her sister's trail. "I mean it, Edith!"

Soon enough, the roaring footsteps and voices died down.

Gru buried his face in his hands and gave one final, drawn out groan.

He'd celebrated too soon.

It was only over for a couple more years.

A/N again: Maybe a little too much? Probably...but that's okay! I figure since the girls have little to nothing in the ways of a mother figure, they missed a bunch of vital mother/daughter talk. I was 10 when I got my period and Mom had been warning me of it for a couple years, and I still freaked out when it came. I figure this is about a year after Gru adopts them and that Margo's close to 11. Also, there was supposed to be a part noting Edith's gross exaggeration of the amount of blood, but it didn't happen, so...no, it wasn't that bad...